Away From the Sun Read Online Free PDF

woman gave birth to me. That was her part and she was done. I don’t even know her name. I’ve never asked. It was my father that took me in, doing what he always told me was his best. But he was too into his work, making more than enough money to hire a nanny full-time. There were entire months that passed where I didn’t see my father. Sometimes I wondered if he even knew the reason so many nannies were quitting. I acted out as a child. I wanted his attention until I finally realized that I wasn’t going to get it. I remember one time when I lit a match and set the drapes on fire in the living room. The house filled with smoke. Alarms went off, and the fire department was there in no time. When my father finally got to the house (three hours later), he immediately fired the nanny, despite me telling him that I had done it on purpose. That’s the moment I stopped caring about what he thought of me. I stopped acting out. Instead of vying for my father’s attention, I fell in love with books, allowing philosophers and great thinkers to father me instead.  
    Little good that does me now.  
    My father was at least decent at making sure I had enough money to get by. He made sure to pay my tuition, but once I finally graduated, the world ended and greyskins roamed the earth. I wasn’t surprised that it took him months to even think about looking for me after the outbreak happened. But like showing up late to the house fire, he eventually found me. Of course, he never asked me how I was holding up. He didn’t ask about any of the friends I had lost. It was all business. He told me that he was starting a small task force and that he saw something in me that would benefit the group. It was the first time my father had ever said anything like this to me. I was overwhelmed with joy. But that joy wore off as the past three years started to weigh on us.  
    We have killed hundreds, if not thousands, of greyskins. We have tracked down Shadowface on more than one occasion…and failed to get him. I have had to come up with my own reasons to want to go after him. My father’s reasoning isn’t satisfying enough. He always says that Shadowface is evil and that he is responsible for the birth of the greyskin virus. But my father doesn’t know my thoughts on the subject. He doesn’t think that I would hail Shadowface as a hero for bringing down civilization. He brought us to anarchy, and for that, he should be praised. But I know Shadowface isn’t a hero. He has taken it a step too far. He brought the world into anarchy, but only so he could eventually rule it. For that, he should die because he is no better than the ones before him.  
    I still don’t know how my father knows what he knows. Or what he thinks he knows. The greyskin virus is a complete mystery to the surviving world, but for some reason my father thinks that this Shadowface created it for power.  
    “Shadowface is very rich and greedy,” he once told me.  
    “Who is it?” I asked.
    His answer was a blank stare.  
    I can only assume that from my father’s occupation, a scientist/professor, and given the so-called epicenter of the outbreak, that Shadowface is a person that he once worked with at Elkhorn University. I can’t begin to fathom why my father would keep Shadowface’s identity a secret, but then again, does it matter who it is if the only goal is to kill him? I never pressed the issue again.
    As I lean against the side of the SUV, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with my father, I can’t help but take in the stale scent of his clothes from his heavy use of cigars. The one in his hand is bad enough. From what I remember, my father had never smoked before the outbreak. I know that this new world has taken its toll on a lot of people, but he seems to have taken it the worst. His eyes have begun to sag, exposing the wet redness beneath the eyeball. Apart from the overwhelming smell of cigar smoke, I smell death. It’s like the smell of a greyskin, but