Odium IV: The Dead Saga
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Book four in the bestselling post-apocalyptic romance series... at the end of the world, there's no time to mourn
A kid, an old lady, and a heartbroken man…what could possibly go wrong? Mikey is holding true to his promise to Nina, and is doing everything he can to keep the group alive. But when something attacks the threesome in the middle of the night, things begin to take a turn for the worst. Luckily a new group—the N.E.O.s are on hand to ease Mikey’s burden and help fight alongside him. But first he must prove his worth to the leader Aiken and the people that follow him. Within this new group, Mikey begins to find a form of peace that he didn’t think was possible after losing Nina, and he discovers his place within this new world. A place where killing isn’t for fun, and is only ever committed as a last resort. His heart is still aching, but at the end of the world there’s no time to stop and mourn, and as he searches out a Circus Freak Show and the horrors begin to stack up around him, Nina slips far from his mind. It’s probably best, because there are many more terrors in store for him. Because within the folds of a small town, inside an old candy store, he meets a woman named Clare, her two dogs and something that he never saw coming. |
Excerpt!
I look up at the sliver of moon through the hole in the roof, and then I sit back down in my chair. My ass hasn’t
even hit the seat when footsteps come forward from the darkness.
“Good choice, my friend. I knew we were going to get along,” Aiken says.
I stay silent, watching as lamps are lit around the room.
“I said to my men, ‘he’s all right, he’s one of us,’ and it would seem I was right, wouldn’t you say?”
I can see him now, much better than I had at the side of the road.
“I know, I’m a pretty boy, ain’t I?” he chuckles, running his hand along the long red scar that’s etched into the
side of his face.
“What the fuck is this?” I reply, forcing myself to look away from the scar.
“This,” Aiken says, with his arms wide open, “this was a test. I wanted to check out your loyalty. Because loyalty is
what I’m all about.” He smiles, ignoring my frown. “What you said at the side of the road about promises meaning something, well that’s the sort of philosophy we tend to live by around here. But not many others in this world do
anymore. What I just saw in you—sitting yourself back down and not abandoning your friends—well, that showed me exactly the color that runs through your veins. And it ain’t yellow.”
A meat hook from an slaughterhouse hangs on a metal chain from one of the crossbeams of the warehouse, and
Aiken grabs hold of it with both hands, letting his weight rest as he leans. He flicks the matchstick from left to right
with his tongue, watching me carefully for several moments as he assess both me and the situation.
“There are a lot of people here, and we can’t just go letting anyone in.” Aiken cocks his head to one side. “I mean,
have you met some of the people that survived?” He whistles. “They are not good people.”
“Boss?” Close to my right-hand side, a voice from behind has me automatically tensing,
but I control myself enough not to show it.
Aiken’s gaze shifts from me to the person behind me before coming back to me again. His smile grows, and he
lets go of the meat hook and stands up straight again. “Come and meet my men, get something to eat, and let’s
fix up that leg of yours before you pass out. I’d like to hear your story.”
“And what if I say no?” I say, slowly standing up. I wait to see if someone—one of his men, crew, whatever he wants
to call them—will grab me and slam me back down in my seat, but no one does.
Aiken laughs. “Well, then you can be on your way. But I wouldn’t suggest you do that tonight—not with your leg
all banged up like it is.” Aiken laughs darkly. “So much blood will have all the monsters in these parts making you their Sunday lunch, and if you’re going to find that kid of yours, dying isn’t a good way of going about it.” And then the
squeak of the door sounds as he leaves the warehouse.
I turn to look behind me, putting a face to the voice. Three people are standing there, each of them looking
threatening, yet none of them move toward me. They don’t look happy about me being here, but if Aiken’s their
boss then they’re his underlings, and what good little underlings they’re being right now.
“Is that his thing?” I ask the biggest underling. “Walking away dramatically?” I move my gaze across to the other two.
“I reckon he watched too many cowboy movies as a kid and he’s trying to reenact the dramatic walk off into the
sunset. What do you think?” I smirk.
“I think you should take the boss up on his offer,” the smallest of the three replies.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“And why’s that?” My tone’s full of attitude, but I thank God that no one can see the raging in my blood, or the
pounding in my ears as worry strokes up my sides.
“Because the boss normally knows what’s best for everyone,” the biggest underling says, making no big show of his statement, which only irritates me more.
None of this makes any sense. Why rescue me and Joan, convince me to leave Adam behind, and then lock me in a warehouse and see if I would try to escape, only to then patch me up, feed me, and send me on my way the next day?
No, none of this makes any sense at all.
This still feels like one big test. And with Joan and Adam’s lives on the line, I’m not about to mess it up. I make up my
mind and decide to play it cool. To play a part in all of this until I decide what the best thing to do is. Because he’s
right in that I couldn’t leave right now—not in this sort of mess with my leg busted up the way it is. I wouldn’t make
it a mile down the road before I got eaten by something. And I can’t let that happen, because I have a promise to keep.
“So, what’s for dinner?” I ask, my cocky smirk still in place—mainly because I can tell it irritates the shit out of
Aiken’s men. “Please tell me it’s steak, because I’ve been hankering for a steak for a good few years now.”
even hit the seat when footsteps come forward from the darkness.
“Good choice, my friend. I knew we were going to get along,” Aiken says.
I stay silent, watching as lamps are lit around the room.
“I said to my men, ‘he’s all right, he’s one of us,’ and it would seem I was right, wouldn’t you say?”
I can see him now, much better than I had at the side of the road.
“I know, I’m a pretty boy, ain’t I?” he chuckles, running his hand along the long red scar that’s etched into the
side of his face.
“What the fuck is this?” I reply, forcing myself to look away from the scar.
“This,” Aiken says, with his arms wide open, “this was a test. I wanted to check out your loyalty. Because loyalty is
what I’m all about.” He smiles, ignoring my frown. “What you said at the side of the road about promises meaning something, well that’s the sort of philosophy we tend to live by around here. But not many others in this world do
anymore. What I just saw in you—sitting yourself back down and not abandoning your friends—well, that showed me exactly the color that runs through your veins. And it ain’t yellow.”
A meat hook from an slaughterhouse hangs on a metal chain from one of the crossbeams of the warehouse, and
Aiken grabs hold of it with both hands, letting his weight rest as he leans. He flicks the matchstick from left to right
with his tongue, watching me carefully for several moments as he assess both me and the situation.
“There are a lot of people here, and we can’t just go letting anyone in.” Aiken cocks his head to one side. “I mean,
have you met some of the people that survived?” He whistles. “They are not good people.”
“Boss?” Close to my right-hand side, a voice from behind has me automatically tensing,
but I control myself enough not to show it.
Aiken’s gaze shifts from me to the person behind me before coming back to me again. His smile grows, and he
lets go of the meat hook and stands up straight again. “Come and meet my men, get something to eat, and let’s
fix up that leg of yours before you pass out. I’d like to hear your story.”
“And what if I say no?” I say, slowly standing up. I wait to see if someone—one of his men, crew, whatever he wants
to call them—will grab me and slam me back down in my seat, but no one does.
Aiken laughs. “Well, then you can be on your way. But I wouldn’t suggest you do that tonight—not with your leg
all banged up like it is.” Aiken laughs darkly. “So much blood will have all the monsters in these parts making you their Sunday lunch, and if you’re going to find that kid of yours, dying isn’t a good way of going about it.” And then the
squeak of the door sounds as he leaves the warehouse.
I turn to look behind me, putting a face to the voice. Three people are standing there, each of them looking
threatening, yet none of them move toward me. They don’t look happy about me being here, but if Aiken’s their
boss then they’re his underlings, and what good little underlings they’re being right now.
“Is that his thing?” I ask the biggest underling. “Walking away dramatically?” I move my gaze across to the other two.
“I reckon he watched too many cowboy movies as a kid and he’s trying to reenact the dramatic walk off into the
sunset. What do you think?” I smirk.
“I think you should take the boss up on his offer,” the smallest of the three replies.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he says.
“And why’s that?” My tone’s full of attitude, but I thank God that no one can see the raging in my blood, or the
pounding in my ears as worry strokes up my sides.
“Because the boss normally knows what’s best for everyone,” the biggest underling says, making no big show of his statement, which only irritates me more.
None of this makes any sense. Why rescue me and Joan, convince me to leave Adam behind, and then lock me in a warehouse and see if I would try to escape, only to then patch me up, feed me, and send me on my way the next day?
No, none of this makes any sense at all.
This still feels like one big test. And with Joan and Adam’s lives on the line, I’m not about to mess it up. I make up my
mind and decide to play it cool. To play a part in all of this until I decide what the best thing to do is. Because he’s
right in that I couldn’t leave right now—not in this sort of mess with my leg busted up the way it is. I wouldn’t make
it a mile down the road before I got eaten by something. And I can’t let that happen, because I have a promise to keep.
“So, what’s for dinner?” I ask, my cocky smirk still in place—mainly because I can tell it irritates the shit out of
Aiken’s men. “Please tell me it’s steak, because I’ve been hankering for a steak for a good few years now.”