Page 1 of Claimed By Ruin

PROLOGUE

Jack

Where would he go next?

I was in the middle of the road and looked left to the west, then right to the east. Both choices had merit, and I knew Evan would be meticulous, just the way I’d taught him.

West meant mountains. Rough terrain, few resources, less people.

That was the way he would go.

I stepped left when I heard it—that inhuman growl that had become the background for what passed as life these days.

Six, maybe seven, of them shambled toward me. I stared east as I buried my knife in the first one’s temple. Kept looking that way for two and three. The black goo made my glove slick.

A shame. I’d have to toss these once I was done.

I spared a second to stare at my ruined glove, then took out four and five. Threw my shoulder into six’s chest, dropped down to jab the knife into its eye socket. Ducked to avoid the spray of blood when I pulled the knife out, and then sliced seven’s throat open.

I crunched its head under my boot as I stood, staring left, right…then left again.

Evan had gone west.

I tossed the dirty glove, scraped my boot on the asphalt until it was some semblance of clean.

Then I started walking east.

ONE

Jack

“I presume that’s mine.”

Asia didn’t flinch at the sound of my voice.

She didn’t drop the dish towel.

Didn’t spin around in shock.

She just moved across the kitchen, her steps silent, deliberate, even though she wore a pair of heavy tan work boots.

She reached for the upper cabinet, her long fingers plucking a cup from the shelf, the soft clink of the glass against the wood discordant in the thick silence.

When she stretched up, the hem of her shirt lifted just an inch.

I saw it again.

That gentle, barely there slope everyone else would have missed.

Not me.

I knew every inch of that stomach.

Remembered exactly how it looked and felt the morning I walked out the door.

Knew exactly how many weeks had passed since I’d been inside her.

The math was violent in its simplicity.