The No Where Apocalypse (Book 2): Surviving No Where Read Online Free PDF

wonderful smell it was. I glanced up at him, nodding and smiling.
    “You keep this up, Joe, you may just have stay a little longer.”

    Joe offered to help chop some wood in repayment for my sharing of food and shelter. Who was I to argue with a man insisting to help? If I were honest, I enjoyed his company plenty.
    I let him head outside first. That gave me time to check the revolver. Though I had my doubts and queasy feelings, the Colt sat in its exact same position as the night before. This one, the Reverend Joseph Smith, had earned my trust. And that made me feel good deep inside my soul.
    By the way Joe bent I could tell his back was bad. So we struck a deal. I’d split wood and he’d go and stack it in the back of the cabin. As with everything else, he accepted with a smile…and thanks to God.
    We worked hard and steady for several hours before taking a break. For an old man, with a bad back, Joe kept up well with my cutting. Real well, to be precise. Most of that time he was waiting on me to split enough wood for him to transport.
    Sipping on cool well-water, he produced a pipe from his pocket and lit it with an old flick lighter. As I watched the thick blue smoke rise, I noticed a smile come to his face.
    “My only bad habit from before,” he admitted, taking another pull on the short pipe. “I gave up drinking, chasing women, pornography…all my sins.” His head tipped right as he grinned. “Except this one. But I’m almost out of tobacco, so that too shall pass.”
    I pondered Joe’s life for a moment. He seemed so sincere, virtuous, and honest. His usual expression was that of happiness, nothing like most of the others I had met in the past year and some months. I wondered if he was onto something, or just on something. “Could a man get to Chicago?” I asked, rubbing my calloused hands together. “Would the journey be safe?” Instead of checking his expression, I watched the wind gently move the pines back and forth.
    “You could, make it that is.” His tone was the same as always; full of hope and encouragement. “I believe a man can do anything he puts his mind to. I’m living proof of that.” Always back to God, but he was a minister.
    He turned and faced me, more serious than before. “But why? Why would you want to face such dangers?”
    Taking a deep breath, I exhaled loudly. “I’d like to find my wife.”
    I saw him nod as if he understood. But his expression remained tight, not full of hope. “She’s not there, Bob. You will search, but you won’t find her.”
    “Why not?” My question had an intended bite to it.
    “She could be elsewhere, with family and friends. She could have relocated. Or she could be dead.”
    The last option was the worst, and one I refused to believe. But he might have had a point.
    “No power, no working vehicles, no communications,” he continued in a matter of fact way. “You’ve adapted, she will have to. It’s been more than a year, you know. I would think Chicago is worse than most places.”
    I tilted my face his way. “Worse in what ways?”
    “Disease mostly. But there’d be rioting, looting, bad people everywhere. And most of that happened before the first winter,” he paused to relight his pipe. “If she’s alive, and she very well could be, she’s not where you’d expect to find her. And even if you made it there, how would you ever figure out where to look?
    “Chicago is a big city, I’ve been there.” I nodded, noticing his gray eyes on me. “Hundreds of square miles where she could, or could not, be holed up riding the storm out. If she’s smart, and I bet she is, she’s long gone from there by now. Somewhere safe.” He poked my leg with the end of his pipe. “Somewhere just like this.”

Year 3 - early spring - WOP

    Sometime around mid-afternoon, our pace slowed. A man can only cut so much wood in a day; especially a man missing a finger. And I noticed the more pronounced slouch in my partner’s back. Time to