Author Archives: Erin M. Klitzke

            Davon swallowed hard, looking perhaps a little unsettled.  “How many do we think are dead?”             “Probably better to ask how many are still alive.”  Marin’s voice was quiet.  She didn’t look up from Thom, who was still dozing—almost … Continue reading →

            Two big tents got set up before the first fat raindrops splashed down on the terrain—they’d had more time than any of them suspected.  Matthew and Carolyn, between the two of them, had managed to get enough wood for … Continue reading →

            “What’s that?”  Thom tried to push himself up on an elbow, stopping short and gasping for breath as he fell back.  He squeezed his eyes shut, tears welling up.  I gave him a dirty look that he didn’t see … Continue reading →

            “Cross that bridge when we come to it,” I murmured to myself, trying not to think about how we’d handle things when the others—more than just Carolyn—started to Awaken.  “Don’t be borrowing trouble you don’t need, Marin.”  There really … Continue reading →

            “How’s he doing?”  Carolyn approached quietly, a makeshift ice pack in her hand, which she wrapped in the towel left for that purpose before crouching and settling it gently on Thom’s forehead.  He flinched, hissing, before the tenseness it … Continue reading →

            I was hovering, I knew it, and I also knew that it was pissing Jacqueline off to at least some degree.  But I didn’t care.  It was Thom, for Christ’s sake.  I wasn’t letting him out of my sight … Continue reading →

            “Shit,” Davon mumbled, straightening from his examination of the rear corner of the building.  Matt grimaced, knowing Davon’s pronouncement could mean nothing good.             “Not stable, is it?”             “Not by a long shot.  These quakes keep coming, it’s … Continue reading →

            “What the hell came down on you guys?”             “My guess would be about two and a half floors.”  J.T. hauled himself out of the hole, watching critically as the camps staffers carried Thom’s limp body clear of the … Continue reading →

            He kept his eyes closed and tried not to move, tried not to even breathe too deeply.  His ribs ached, like he’d run for miles without stopping.  His ankle throbbed, waves of pain rippling up his leg with every … Continue reading →

            “I hear something.”             “Hopefully it’s not something else coming down.”             Yeah.  Hopefully.  J.T. looked upwards grimly, up into the twisted remains of supports and walls.  “Thom still breathing?”             Brandon nodded.  “Still breathing.  Looks bad, though.  Hope … Continue reading →