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Anthony Newman: American Survivor

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Anthony Newman American Survivor
  • Название:
    American Survivor
  • Автор:
  • Издательство:
    Newalk LLC
  • Жанр:
  • Год:
    2018
  • Город:
    Owensboro
  • Язык:
    Английский
  • Рейтинг книги:
    4 / 5
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American Survivor: краткое содержание, описание и аннотация

Предлагаем к чтению аннотацию, описание, краткое содержание или предисловие (зависит от того, что написал сам автор книги «American Survivor»). Если вы не нашли необходимую информацию о книге — напишите в комментариях, мы постараемся отыскать её.

This is Book I in the American Apocalypse series. The North Koreans launch a surprise Nuclear EMP attack on the USA. Our hero, Joe doesn’t care about politics or what happened, he just knows his world went to Hell. Planes fell out of the sky, people went nuts looting and killing as he scrambled to hide from all of the craziness. Joe had a cabin and land in Southern Oregon when TSHTF and retreated to the cabin to survive the massive die-off that was always predicted for an apocalypse. The weeks before the Grid went down weren’t much better for Joe because his best friend, his fiance, and his beloved Grandma all died during the weeks leading up to lights out. Joe was a young auto mechanic whose only stress in life was from a domineering girlfriend, and now he has to learn how to survive in a Post-Apocalyptic world without military or survival training. To make matters, worse others look to him for support and guidance. Read American Survivor to find out how a regular guy survives in a Post-Apocalyptic world.

Anthony Newman: другие книги автора


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“Darn, it’s a building. I’m in luck. It’s the cabin I was looking for.”

The cabin was covered with vines and had small trees and bushes growing up next to it making it virtually invisible from a distance. No one would come to this place and evict her. It looked as if no one had been here for many years. Cobie cautiously walked around the cabin and noted all of the windows were secured with shutters, and both of the cabin doors were intact and closed. She tried the front door, and the knob wouldn’t turn. She walked around to the rear of the cabin and couldn’t budge that doorknob either, so she tried moving one of the shutters that covered a window facing out over the back deck. She pulled on the shutter, and it fell apart in her hands and fell to the deck.

The window wouldn't move at first, but soon it rose a bit after Cobie pulled upward with all of her strength. The window was open, and she removed a flashlight from her coat pocket and looked inside the cabin. She stared into the kitchen and looked over the kitchen sink. There was no danger in sight, so she climbed into the room and stepped down to the floor from the counter. The kitchen was dusty and had a lot of cobwebs but otherwise was in great shape.

The dank, musty smell hit her, and she said,” Holy crap that stinks like a burial vault.”

The kitchen was right out of the late 1800’s complete with an old cast iron cooking stove and one of those steel cupboards covered in white enamel with a red pinstripe. There was an old-fashioned hand pump by the side of the sink and an old wooden icebox in the corner. The kitchen table was solid oak with four ladder back chairs with cane bottoms.

Cobie explored the rest of the small cabin and found it had two bedrooms, a small family room, bathroom, and the kitchen. The larger bedroom had an old iron bed with a feather mattress, and both were covered in dust. The dresser was oak and had a large mirror. The mirror tilted so the lady of the house could sit in front of it and put her makeup on by the light of two small kerosene lamps. Cobie laughed when she thought about a woman sitting in front of this charming dresser putting makeup on in such a crappy cabin.

It was less than 900 square feet but would be perfect for their needs. Cobie made notes on what she needed to clean the cabin and then headed back to her Jeep to go fetch her trailer. She would work all night on the cabin to make it clean enough to bring Cloe to their new home. The only negative was she saw a few footprints in the dust but couldn’t tell if they were new or years old.

The furniture was covered in sheets, and everything had a thick layer of dust. Cobie removed the sheets from the furniture and found a handwritten note. The note read:

Dear Joe:

So, you found this ratty old cabin while exploring your new property. This cabin was originally built in the 1850’s when Oregon was settled. Your grandfather and I stayed in it for years until we built the other cabins. I hope you never have to live in this ragtag excuse of a cabin, but once it had a family that loved it and depended on it for their survival. Please don’t tear it down because it holds many a memory and was the place where your dad was conceived. I know TMI.

Love Grandma.

Cobie almost cried because the old woman apparently loved her grandson and the old cabin. Then she wondered if Joe actually lived in the woods nearby.

She opened the windows and doors to let light in and air out the place as she dusted and then wet mopped the floors. The pump didn’t work, but there was a small creek twenty yards from the west side of the cabin with ice cold, clear water. She found two buckets and hauled water into the bathtub and sink. She scrubbed the bathroom first and kept a bucket of water in the room to flush the toilet. Then she cleaned the two bedrooms and drug the mattresses outside to air out. It was 1:00 am when she finished the last room and fell asleep on the couch.

Cobie woke several times to the sound of a wolf howling in the early morning hours, and it sent shivers up her back as she snuggled deeper into her sleeping bag. She thanked God her boss had allowed her to purchase the slightly damaged camping gear at a reduced rate, now that she needed it to help make a home for her daughter. The sleeping bag was one of the best, and she had to strip down to her underwear during the night to keep from sweating. Unfortunately, she almost froze as she put her clothes back on the next morning and since she didn’t build a fire, the toilet seat was like a block of ice. Perhaps camping in the winter was not her cup of tea but it beat living on the streets with her twelve-year-old daughter.

She made it to work on time and thanked her boss for allowing her to leave the trailer there while she apartment hunted. She evaded his questions about the location of her new digs and only said that it was a small home out in the country but still in the Ashland school district.

Cobie had the radio on while waiting on Cloe to get out of school and the station broke into another song to announce there was turmoil in Asia between China and Taiwan. Cobie never watched the national news and frankly didn’t give a care about national or world events. She knew who the President was by name but didn’t know the Oregon Congressmen. She had a daughter to raise, and anything else was just background noise, so she changed the channel only to hear the same crap coming out of the speaker.

She smiled when she saw her mini-me walking with a boy to the Jeep. Cloe was two inches shorter and fifteen pounds lighter but could pass for her mother though Cobie was 16 years older. They shared most of their clothes and even wore the same shoe size. Cloe looked much older for her age and could pass for a twenty-year-old the same as her mom. Several people had stopped them while out shopping and thought they were twin sisters. This made Cloe happy and put a frown on Cobie’s face because she wanted her little girl to grow up slower and more sheltered than she had.

The young man peeled away as Cloe arrived at the Jeep making her mom ask, “Who is your new friend and how old is he?”

“Mom, his name is Brad, and he is only a bit older than me. He’s 16 and has a Mustang. We just talk and have a Trig class together.”

Bennie, Cloe’s chocolate colored Lab, jumped in Cloe’s lap as Cobie said, “Cloe, you are twelve years old and are a freshman. You are brilliant but not mature. You are too young to go with a boy four years older with a car. Does he know you are only twelve?” a protective mother exclaimed.

“Mom, please. It’s not like we’re having sex or anything. He hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet,” Cloe said as she baited her mom.

“Cloe, I have a gun and can get a fingerprint kit. If he touches you, I will shoot him in his…”

“Balls, mom, that’s what they call them these days,” replied Cloe as she laughed at her mom.

“Girl, we are going to our new home after we drop by the store to get some paint, hammer, and nails. I think you will like our new rustic home,” Cobie crossed her fingers as the words came out of her mouth.

“Mom, what street is it on? Is it close to the school? Do any of my friends live nearby?”

Cobie answered, “Don’t know, no, and probably not. It’s a cabin in the woods and kind of off by its self. It’s all we could afford, and it’s about six miles out of town.”

Cloe thought for a minute and then asked, “Which direction?”

Her mom pointed straight up, “It’s kinda up in the hills east of here. I love it, and we can walk in the woods and commune with nature. Bennie will love it.”

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