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Nathan Hystad: The Survivors: Books 1-3

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Nathan Hystad The Survivors: Books 1-3

The Survivors: Books 1-3: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

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The Best-selling first 3 books of the Survivors series are now together in one exciting collection. You wake up to ships in the sky. By nightfall, they are gone along with everyone you know and love. You are Dean Parker. Alone on Earth, with nothing but a trail of clues to guide you. It’s time to save the world. Join Dean as he’s forced to take on the roll of unlikely hero, in this epic tale of invasion, destruction, sacrifice, and love. Book One: The Event Book Two: New Threat Book Three: New World

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As I thought about a city the size of New York being empty, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. All of a sudden, I felt very vulnerable out here all by myself. As if on cue, I saw it lower through the clouds.

I quickly slowed the truck to a stop as the silver-gray ship dipped lower and lower. My heart slammed against my chest, and I started to gasp for air. I checked the necklace and it was just the regular color; no molten green at the moment. I sat as still as possible and Carey perched himself up against the window that I had closed. He watched the ship with me as it sped across the morning sky. It did a loop a couple of times, like it was looking for something, and then disappeared into the distance. One thing I knew for sure was that the ship was a duplicate of the ones that had arrived yesterday, but it was much smaller. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I had to keep my eyes peeled for more of those things. Whatever I was destined to do, something was going to try to stop me.

SIX

By the time I got to the Bronx, there were so many cars on the roads that the only place the truck would fit was on the sidewalks. Maneuvering it through the light poles and building steps wasn’t as easy as I hoped. It was a very slow, rough drive, and by the time we got to Yankee Stadium, it was well after noon. My stomach was growling and Carey looked like he could use a bathroom break; so could I.

The stadium grew in my windshield until I was parked right outside its front doors. I used to love coming to the games, watching the Yankees on a sunny afternoon, “Sunday in New York” blasting through the stadium speakers. We hopped out of the truck and to the gate. Surprisingly, it was open, unlocked to the public. I was the only public left, I supposed, so we sauntered on in, making our way to the field. I’d never stood on the grass, and once down there, I found that given the world’s current situation, being on the diamond had lost its luster. Carey decided to relieve himself on the pitcher’s mound and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the sight. He wiggled and ran around the grass like he was a puppy. I ran with him for a few minutes, like a boy playing with his dog. After we were both worn out, I figured while we were here, we might as well get some baseball food. We went to the concourse and I hopped the concession stand, pilfering a few bags of peanuts and some beef jerky. Carey seemed to smell the meat before it was out of the bag; drool fell from his mouth as I tore the bag open.

“Someone’s hungry.” I gave him a piece of the jerky before eating a piece of the salty meat myself. Dark clouds were rolling in as we walked back towards the truck, and it looked like rain was due any minute. I looked to the sky and for a moment worried I would see that silver ship again, but there was nothing but dark clouds looming above us now.

“Come on, Carey. Let’s get moving.” He listened and ran ahead of me but never too far away. I found it hard to believe this was the same whining dog from back home, since he seemed so confident and self-assured out here in the wilds of New York City. We headed toward the front entrance and I grabbed a Yankees ball cap and umbrella to stave off the impending rain. As we left the front doors, I whistled “Sunday in New York,” for a second forgetting the fact that I was all alone in the world.

Once the truck door was open, Carey hopped in and soon we were heading deep into the city. I hoped we would be at the Toronto Dominion Bank in an hour or so, but I was wrong. Once we passed through the Bronx, I headed to Willis Avenue Bridge, the southernmost entrance into Harlem. I’d driven by the other bridges and they were all jammed with cars, so I had high hopes that I could cross this one. I was sadly disappointed when we arrived there to see it fully clogged with vehicles. The sidewalks were on the right side, and with the dividers, they weren’t wide enough to get a vehicle through. I slumped forward, letting my head rest on the steering wheel, as heavy rain pelted my windshield.

For a moment, I thought I would just sit there and wait out the rain, but if I was truly humanity’s last hope, I knew I’d better find a way to get across. I decided to walk and find another truck, then haul all of my supplies there. Once I was over, I wouldn’t have to worry about a bridge until after whatever I found in Manhattan. With the plan settled, Carey and I started making the trek across with my groceries and clothing. I hadn’t realized how long the bridge was until I had to walk to the end and back four times to get it all. The last trip, I borrowed an appliance dolly from a moving truck and moved the generator. I figured I had just walked almost five miles in total and it had taken me over two hours, making it close to four by the time I had my new truck loaded up. Carey was soaked and the front end of the GMC lost its new car smell as it was very quickly replaced with the classic, wet dog de toilette.

Before starting my journey again, I saw a semi-truck sitting there like a behemoth amongst cars, and I recalled the CB radio I wanted to get. I jumped into the cab of the Mack and tried to slide the CB off its mount. After a few minutes, a couple of swear words and a screwdriver, I was the proud owner of a radio. I moved it to scan, looking for any local frequency that might be transmitted, glad that truck driver had a quality unit. When it didn’t find anything, we started to move, slowly dodging cars and heading through the streets of Harlem.

__________

One of my favorite things about living in the state of New York was the sheer number of trees. They were everywhere. I remember the first time I’d flown in from Ohio and saw the green from above. Growing up in the country, we had our share of trees, but they usually lined a farmer’s crop. This was different to me. I’d always thought New York would just be a huge city with nothing but concrete and criminals. Instead, it was a lovely state, with flowers, trees, and parks everywhere, with the Mecca of everything you could want in the big city at your fingertips. It was the perfect balance for me. When I’d first moved here, I’d spent the first couple years in a Battery Park condo. It was the size of a shoebox, but it was close to the subway, which made commuting to work so easy. It was also a twenty-minute ride to Central Park.

I loved Central Park. It was the most magical place I’d ever seen; ever since the first time I walked onto the grass, it felt special. The paths, the trees, and the people – it was just amazing. As Carey and I neared the huge park in the middle of the high-rises, I fondly remembered the first time I’d seen my wife, nine years ago in this very park. I was meeting a client for my firm in the Boathouse, a wonderful dinner and drinks spot in the middle of Central Park. It’s an iconic place where many “meet cutes,” as they said in the movies, happened in classic films. It was fitting that this was where I would first lay eyes on Janine. My meeting was just finishing, and as I stood to leave, she walked in. There was something that just drew me in instantly; she smiled at the hostess and my heart melted. I saw a man rise from the bar, leaving his stool empty, and start walking towards her.

My shoulders slumped as she turned to him. It was like she moved in slow motion, and as her head turned, our eyes locked. Hers widened slightly, and my heart pounded in my chest. No woman had ever looked at me like that before, and I doubted any ever would again. I stepped forward, all rational thoughts pushed to the side for the moment. I forgot about the man coming to meet her and I reached her first. Her eyebrows rose as I took her hand and said hello.

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