Chapters (100)
- Acknowledgments
- Author’s Note
- Part One: A Fall of Angels
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Part Two: Broken Birds
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Part Three: Sanctuary
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Chapter 78
- Chapter 79
- Chapter 80
- Chapter 81
- Chapter 82
- Chapter 83
- Chapter 84
- Chapter 85
- Chapter 86
- Chapter 87
- Chapter 88
- Chapter 89
- Chapter 90
- Chapter 91
- Chapter 92
- Chapter 93
- Epilogue
- About Jonathan Maberry
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s penance.”
“But . . . the stuff you did while you were with the reapers, that wasn’t your fault. You didn’t know any better, and when you did, you left.”
“Maybe. That don’t make me sleep any better at night.”
She reached over and stroked Eve’s hair.
“I got wind of the reapers planning on making a move on her town. Treetops it was called. I’d been there a few times with the scavengers. Nice folks, so I tried to get there in time to warn people, but I was about four hours too late. All I could do was offer to lead the survivors to Sanctuary.”
“You left out one part,” said Chong. “What happened to your dad?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Saint John and Mama said he up and left one night. Just took off . . . but I don’t believe that. I think they killed him.”
“Why?”
Riot gave him a hard look. “If you’re running a church based on killing everyone who’s still sucking air, do you really want a doctor around? Pa was all about some oath when he was in medical school. He was all about saving lives . . . so I guess he had to go.”
“I’m sorry,” said Chong, and he meant it. “It . . . it must be lonely for you.”
“Well, it’s the end of the world, you know? Kinda sucks for everyone.”
Chong smiled a bitter little smile. “Yeah, I really get that.”
Riot studied his face for several thoughtful seconds. “I don’t know much about medicine,” she admitted, “’cept how to patch a busted leg or stitch a knife cut, take out the occasional arrow. Point is, I know where we might be able to get some help.”
“Help? Come on, Riot, we both know how this ends. I get sicker and sicker and then I die. And then you . . . well, then you take care of me. There’s no variation on that story. Everyone who gets infected dies.”
At that last word, Eve gave a soft whimper of protest and buried her head against his chest. Chong stroked her hair. He wanted to do the same thing she was doing—curl up in a fetal position and hope the world would just go away.
“Chong, listen to me,” insisted Riot. “I think I should take you to Sanctuary.”
“And what exactly is Sanctuary? Is it just a bunch of way-station monks or . . . ?”