Born In The Apocalypse Read Online Free PDF

yard. 
    The arrow was still there sticking accusingly in the lawn.  I ran over to it and removed it, pulling up a good chunk of dirt.  The broad head dripped soil, and as I looked it over I was struck by another surprise.
    This wasn’t my arrow.

Chapter 5
     
    I thought about that arrow a lot over the next couple of days.  I didn’t tell my dad or mom about it just yet, I was afraid dad might be mad at me, and I knew mom just wouldn’t understand.  Besides, Dad was busy dealing with a Tripper outbreak down south of us, and he said before he left that they probably accounted for the two that had shown up the other day. 
    I didn’t think that the occupants of the house would know where I lived unless they had followed me.  That didn’t make sense, as I was a pretty good stalker, and I figured I would know if someone was sneaking around in my area.  I settled on the notion that they must have seen Trey and me as we stalked frogs in the creek a time or two and put two and three together to come up with my yard.
    I was busy for a time, as Mom was getting back into teaching me things other than math.  I was pretty well learned for my age since all my learning came from heavy reading material, not the so-called age-appropriate stuff other kids were picking up.  Trey came over these days to learn as well since his mother wasn’t as good at history or reading as she was at numbers. It was the only time I ever saw Mom not worry or look out the windows in fear.  She buried herself in the lessons, bringing them to life and telling stories the likes of which I am sure most kids never saw.  Before I was ten years old I knew about Shakespeare and Steinbeck, Dickenson and Emerson.  I liked Leaves of Grass well enough, but I wished he would have gotten to the point about a hundred pages earlier. Walt Whitman was another long-winded soul.
    Thanks to his mother’s genes, Trey was a hand at math, whereas my skills tended to drift more towards the mechanical.  I could figure out most things if I broke them down into easy to bite chunks.  Trey just breezed through as if he were taking a stroll, which made things more difficult for me since I was constantly on the prowl for more books and materials, as ordered by my mother.
    It was about noon, and we had just finished lunch when Mom announced we were running low on some supplies, especially meat.  I took the hint and went out to the garage with Trey right behind me.
    I took my bow off the rack and strung it, slipping my quiver over my shoulder.  Trey looked at me funny.
    “What are you doing?”  he asked, eyeballing my gear.
    “Mom wants meat; I’m getting her meat.  I figure we’re good for a deer or two this time of year,”  I said, belting on my knife.  It was a simple blade with a slow, sweeping edge leading to a drop point.  The seven-inch blade was a bit big for me I always thought, but Dad said it was just the right length.  He never elaborated on the right length for what, but my imagination was full of unpleasant things.
    Trey looked shocked, then looked over his shoulder.  “Are you nuts? We’ve never gone out for big game without our dads before.”
    I shrugged.  “Meat is meat.  I’d rather skin one animal and get a lot of meat than ten and get just a little.  Besides,” I added, “you don’t have to come with.”
    Trey frowned.  “Of course I’m coming.  Think I want to tell my folks I passed on a chance at deer meat?”
    “Let’s get moving then.”  I poked my head through the door just enough for my mom to see my noggin and nothing else.  “Mom?  Trey and I are going to check the lines for that meat you wanted.”
    “All right, sweetheart.  Please be careful.”  Mom barely looked up from her book, giving me the opportunity to slip away without answering a lot of questions.  Trey and I went around to the front of the house and quickly ran to his.  We passed through the stone walls which bordered our properties, and I