Reawakening Eden Read Online Free PDF

He was silent for a long time, so long Eden began to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. She stopped herself from begging and badgering, giving him his silence, until she couldn’t take it anymore.
    “Could you…?”
    “St. Maries,” he grunted. “I’ll get you that far. You might be able to find a car there.”
    Relief nearly buckled her knees. “ Thank you .”
    He nodded, his face stony as he flicked a look up at the sky. “We should get moving. This weather won’t hold.”
    “Right. Of course.”
    Eden peeled the kids off the dog and got them in order as Connor moved deeper into the forest. South. Precious bounded after him. The kids fell into line with Eden bringing up the rear. She didn’t hesitate to follow where this stranger led, but her hand was back on the rifle butt. Lingering misgivings refused to let her go. Would he really see them to St. Maries? Could she trust him? Or was he just a far cleverer brand of thug than she was used to, leading them far away from any hope of rescue before he revealed his real plans?
    She could only wait, and walk, and see.

Chapter Four
    Eden held her hands up to the campfire. It smoked and spat sparks, but since she pretty much sucked at starting fires, the fact that someone else had built it went a long way toward warming her.
    It was still twilight and Connor had told her they had farther to go tonight, but they’d stopped for some food and to let the kids rest. Eden watched as Connor tossed the remains of the soup cans from dinner into the flames while Hannah Rose and Lucas napped in a huddle near its heat with Precious curled around them protectively like a mama lion.
    Connor settled himself on a log a few feet from Eden, flicking a glance from the snoozing kids to her and then staring into the flames. They hadn’t spoken much. Her initial assessment that he wasn’t much of a talker had been an understatement. It was almost as if he’d forgotten how. Not surprising, that, but it left her with the powerful urge to remind him how to be sociable.
    Eden cleared her throat softly. “Have you always lived near here?”
    “No.”
    “But you moved here before…” Eden never knew what to call it. The plague? The epidemic? The end of the world?
    “My wife grew up near here. We bought a place here in oh-nine.”
    His wife. She didn’t want to assume the worst, but she couldn’t ask. Who knew what memories it would dredge up? Families hadn’t survived intact.
    Before she could frame her next question, he spoke, a low gravelly admission. “She went in the first wave. I was called back from Afghanistan, but she was gone before I arrived.”
    “I’m sorry.” The words were simple, heartfelt, and all she had. He nodded his understanding of their inadequacy.
    The world had mourned the first wave. The loss of the first hundred and thirty thousand lives had been a tragedy of unspeakable proportions. The nation came together, politicians vowing nothing like this could ever be allowed to happen again, never suspecting that the next wave was less than two months away and it would be much, much worse.
    Some survivors spoke of the as-yet-unseen Third Wave with near-religious fervor. The same way some might speak of the Rapture. Eden couldn’t fault them. Whatever allowed you to cope.
    Afghanistan. Eden turned the word over in her mind. He didn’t say much, but each word was another clue into him. “You were in the Army?”
    He grunted in the affirmative.
    It wasn’t hard to imagine him as a soldier—the hunting camouflage was one step removed from fatigues. His ease with weapons, his calm in dealing with Ben, it all pointed toward the sort of training she didn’t have. He was better equipped to deal with this new world. That much was obvious. Her extensive knowledge of the Dewey decimal system was not, tragically, a valuable survival skill.
    “I was a librarian,” she volunteered when he didn’t ask. She didn’t know much about army life. The only time she’d