Ruin (The Ruin Saga Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

seemed to have consumed Lisey’s Bar ‘n Grill in Bleak. Alex suspected that the morning run of the good lady’s famous bacon-and-mushroom omelettes had charred to combustion point without her there to flip them.
    Alex’s gaze swept across the moorland lakes, which glistened silver-white in the sun, and every other settlement in sight—Chester Walden, Stanfield, Eppinsborough, Langlebridge, Finstynne, Tinners’ Lodge, and, nestled between the slopes of Porters’ Pass, at the very edge of visibility, the twinkling lights of Milton Percy’s radio tower—scanning farther back into the distance until his line of sight met the horizon.
    Every one of them was utterly still. Unattended toasters, gas hobs, careening motor vehicles and hair straighteners had sent at least three of them up in flames along with Radden Moor and Bleak.
    There was not a single person in sight. Thousands of cars, trucks and coaches sat on the dual carriageway, most in pieces, torn into great mountains of shrapnel and shattered glass. Some had careened through the centre divider or into the wooded ditches that ran downhill on either side of the tarmac, having by chance avoided total destruction. No attempt at braking had been made, for their drivers had vanished along with everyone else. Their motors still ticked amidst the fields and creek beds where they had come to rest.
    Alex sank to his knees, covering his eyes with his hands, and let loose a wail of bewilderment. Once that first cry had escaped him, he was powerless to stop those that followed, and merely sat watching the flames, clutching at the grass. His screams rang out until his throat had become raw, the distant smoke columns had blossomed into rippling firestorms, and the monstrous carcasses of transcontinental airliners had begun to fall from the sky.
    No screams answered his, nor did anyone cry out to be rescued from the burning wreckage. The world had grown still and silent.
    He was alone.

II

     
    Norman called a halt and pulled the reins towards his lap. His mount took a single step farther before coming to a stop, snorting in the evening gloom.
    Allie stopped beside him but said nothing. Her mouth was pulled into a tight grimace.
    “You’re still mad,” Norman said.
    She was quiet for some time before responding, “How could you do that?”
    He leaned from his saddle until they were almost face to face. “There was nothing we could have done. We can barely feed ourselves.”
    She rounded on him, her eyes flaring. “We could have helped. We could have done something. We could have given them something.”
    Norman shook his head as he watched Lucian ride across the field behind them. His steel-grey hair and horse to match made him difficult to miss amidst the meadow of browning grass, even when he stopped abreast the posts of an ancient wooden fence, scanning the horizon.
    “We knew that people were starving,” Norman said, sighing.
    “That doesn’t make it all right.”
    Allie took an apple from one of the bags swinging beneath her saddle and looked at it for a while. She soon took a bite, but her expression was disgusted.
    “You ought to save those,” Norman said, motioning to the bag. “We had to leave a lot behind.”
    She swallowed with a heavy gulp, as though to make a point of defying even so small an order, but when she replied her voice had fallen to a mere whisper. “At least they have that much.”
    “Allie…”
    “How could we leave them?”
    Norman turned to her. “What do you want me to do?” he said.
    “I don’t know. Something .”
    “It’s not my job to make those kinds of decisions.”
    “It’s going to be.”
    “I’m not a leader,” Norman hissed. “I didn’t ask for this.”
    There was a pause.
    “For what?” she said.
    Norman gestured to the sacks beneath them. “For this!”
    Lucian, over by the fence, held up his hand to give the all-clear signal. He then wheeled around and rode back towards them, turning his head occasionally