Home > Work > Afterburn (Next, #1)
21 " Crows lined the crumbling and contaminated road that led to Stonewall. As Rachel Wheeler approached, they lifted one by one against the hazy October sky. A muted lime-green aurora shimmered behind the clouds as if the black birds were swimming against a frothy tide. The hardwood trees on the surrounding Appalachian slopes were gone to gold and scarlet, and the strange light hinted at the gray winter waiting ahead. One of the crows turned, and its eyes flashed with fire. A blood-chilling caw cracked the brittle air. Rachel slid her machete from its canvas sheath, but the crow veered wildly and then rejoined the broken formation heading south toward the distant city of mutants. "
― Scott Nicholson , Afterburn (Next, #1)
22 " DeVontay touched his left eye and wiggled the glass prosthetic. “You got that right. My depth perception is for the birds.” “That wasn’t funny even before Doomsday. Now it’s just sad.” “You didn’t marry me for my wit.” “We’re not married yet, remember. All the priests seem to be either dead or Zap.” DeVontay shouldered his M16 and caught up with her so they could walk side by side. He took her slim right hand with his left and gave it a squeeze. “Living in sin is okay with me.” Rachel squinted up at the hidden sun and whatever force, if any, lay "
23 " periwinkle flowers. Here and there were gravel turnouts that led up to blank and brooding houses, but neither Rachel nor DeVontay were inclined to stop and explore them. Experience suggested such places were more likely to harbor danger than supplies. Not that the open road was much safer, but at least their options were more appealing—fight or flight rather than fight or die. “I thought you were done with that philosophical stuff,” DeVontay said. “I’m done with asking why, but not with wondering what’s next.” Rachel scanned the surrounding vegetation "
24 " Sounded big,” DeVontay said. “It’s all relative. Bigger than a car, smaller than a house. "
25 " Nature’s a pure, heartless bitch. "