Ravaged Land: Divided Series - A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller Books 1-3 Read online

  Ravaged Land: Divided Books 1-3

  A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

  Kellee L. Greene

  Contents

  Copyright

  Books By Kellee L. Greene

  From The Author

  THE LAST DISASTER

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  THE LAST REMNANTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  THE LAST STRUGGLE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Final Note

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Copyright

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 Kellee L. Greene

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the author.

  First Edition January 2019

  Books By Kellee L. Greene

  From Below Series

  Creatures - Book 1

  Desolation - Book 2

  Red Sky Series

  Red Sky - Book 1

  Blue Cloud - Book 2

  Black Rain - Book 3

  White Dust - Book 4

  Indigo Ice - Book 5

  Yellow Heat - Book 6

  Ravaged Land Series

  Ravaged Land -Book 1

  Finding Home - Book 2

  Crashing Down - Book 3

  Running Away - Book 4

  Escaping Fear - Book 5

  Fighting Back - Book 6

  Ravaged Land: Divided Series

  The Last Disaster - Book 1

  The Last Remnants - Book 2

  The Last Struggle - Book 3

  Falling Darkness Series

  Unholy - Book 1

  Uprising - Book 2

  Hunted - Book 3

  The Island Series

  The Island - Book 1

  The Fight - Book 2

  The Escape - Book 3

  The Erased - Book 4

  The Alien Invasion Series

  The Landing - Book 1

  The Aftermath - Book 2

  Destined Realms Series

  Destined - Book 1

  From The Author

  Dear Reader,

  The Ravaged Land: Divided series is set in the Ravaged Land world, but it can be read as a stand-alone series. The Last Disaster takes place in the same world, but with different characters and at a different time.

  I really hope you enjoy The Last Disaster! Thanks for reading!

  Kellee L. Greene

  THE LAST DISASTER

  ravaged land: divided

  —————

  BY

  KELLEE L. GREENE

  1

  There was no way to know for sure, but I’d estimated I’d been living alone for about a year after my mom died. What I couldn’t figure out was why I was still alive. Somehow, I’d managed to continue to go on… I still hadn’t killed myself.

  The only reason, at least that I could come up with, was that I’d made a promise to the two people that had meant everything to me. My parents. But now that they were dead, I didn’t know why I was so intent on keeping that promise.

  My father had told me that our family was different from everyone else. We were tough. He’d say people like us didn’t just give up. If my mom and dad would have given up, I wouldn’t have ever been born.

  Life hadn’t been easy, but it hadn’t been that difficult either. I’d spent twenty years or so living in the same small house, barely stepping off our front porch. I never saw the world beyond our yard. In a way, at least to me, it had felt as though I’d given up long ago.

  Everything was about to change. I couldn’t do it any longer. There was no way I could spend another day alone. Not to mention the fact that supplies were running low. Soon, I wouldn’t have a choice about leaving. If leaving my home meant I was going to die, well, then so be it.

  A few years ago, a storm ripped through the area tearing most everything down. It was a miracle that our house was still standing. Although, really, it was ready to crumble to the ground any day. The house was in such poor condition that I worried if I breathed too heavily it might collapse on top of me.

  My mother and I stayed in the dilapidated building because it was fully stocked. We’d had everything we could have ever needed all in one place.

  A few years before the big storm, my dad had died leaving my mom and me alone. After he passed, she hadn’t ever been the same. He’d gotten sick, and there hadn’t been a damn thing we could have done about it.

  We’d had various limited medicines, but nothing for what ailed him. He fought hard like he had with everything, but it was one battle he couldn’t win.

  My parents used to tell me stories about a time when there were doctors and all kinds of different medicines. They’d told me there were large buildings that had been constructed for only one purpose, to take care of the sick, injured, and dying, but that sort of luxury no longer existed. Those times, if even real, were long gone.

  Truth be told, I couldn’t even comprehend some of the things she'd told me about their life before the storms. It all sounded like a fantasy tale to me.

  The world outside our four walls was nothing at all like what they’d described to me. I had to stay indoors hiding from all the bad things that were lurking out there. Things that could kill me.

  They told me of dangerous animals and unkind
people that would take your life, just because they could. I’d never seen anything or anyone, but nonetheless, I believed them.

  One of my first memories was of my dad teaching me how to protect myself. He taught me everything he could about surviving.

  If I had to, I could take down a man bigger than myself. Although, the only real practice I’d had at doing that, was on my dad.

  The most important thing he’d taught me, besides how to find food and water, had been how to kill. Animals. People. How to fight for my life.

  My dad had told me he wished I’d never have to use any of what he taught me, but that he believed one day I would. One day, he and my mom wouldn’t be around to take care of me, and I’d have to fend for myself. When he’d told me that, I was pretty sure he hadn’t known just how quickly that day would come.

  I stuffed the backpack with as much of the supplies as I could. All of the necessities. Anything that would help me stay alive until I got further south. South… where it would be warmer, and I could rebuild.

  The one thing I needed to make sure I didn’t forget, was the gun my mom had given me the day she passed away. I looked at the black metal, pushing away the memory that was trying to overtake me. I swallowed it down with a cough and tucked the gun into the back of my pants.

  There was a big part of me that was anxious to get out of the place I’d been stuck inside of my entire life. But there was another part of me that was beyond terrified.

  I zipped up my jacket and glanced out the window. My mom had told me to head south. She’d echoed my dad’s words and told me to never trust anyone. She’d told me to take the small bag of seeds and find a new home. Something near water and far, far away from other people.

  Then she’d told me she loved me and less than ten minutes after that she was gone. Tears welled up in my eyes. I’d failed at pushing away the memory.

  I couldn’t let the tears fall. Not now. It was surprising that there were even any left, but I couldn’t let my emotions take over. I had to leave. I had to be the tough girl my parents wanted me to be since the day I was born. They wanted me to be strong and brave like them, and that was exactly what I planned to be.

  “Goodbye house,” I said looking around the disaster area I called my home. I closed my eyes and listened, hoping there would be some kind of sign that would tell me I was doing the right thing.

  There wasn’t anything. In fact, it was so quiet, I was pretty sure I could hear the flurries falling into the pure white, untouched snow outside.

  “Well, all right then.”

  I checked to make sure the gun was tucked away right exactly where I wanted it and stepped out onto the porch. It wouldn’t take that many steps before I was further than I’d ever been in my entire life.

  I’d been born in the small house to my loving parents, and now, I was leaving the place I thought one day I’d die inside of behind. It was hard to understand exactly what I was feeling, but fear was definitely one of the many feelings.

  I sighed and walked away from the house. Each step put more and more distance between myself and my home. I thought it would reach out and pull me back, but it didn’t. If anything, it felt like it was pushing me away. To get out of there. To hurry.

  It was like a clock was ticking and if I didn’t hurry something terrible would happen. If I was quiet enough, I was pretty sure I’d hear the sounds of the ticking and the tocking.

  “Come on feet,” I said forcing a slight bounce in my step.

  I stepped out past my yard, past an uprooted tree and looked over my shoulder. For a second, I wondered if the house might just poof out of existence. I chuckled at the thought.

  I took a massive step over a thick, rotting tree trunk that was lying on its side and looked up at the sky. It only took me a second to realize which way was south. One of the many skills my dad had taught me that I hoped would be useful in my travels. Thanks, dad.

  The ground was covered in at least a foot of snow, but it didn’t bother me anywhere near as much as the cool air against my face did. My skin felt like it was being stung, and even though I couldn’t see my cheeks, I was pretty sure they were pink.

  There were so many trees that had been uprooted and blown about by the storm that had come through a couple years ago. In fact, very few were still standing. The trees were scattered across the ground, all of them pointing like gnarled fingers in different directions. The storm had been violent. It was a miracle that we had survived.

  The few trees that still stood were pretty beat up. Most of them didn’t stand straight, but they’d fought back against the destructive winds and tornadoes and somehow managed to hold their ground.

  I needed to be like one of those trees. To be strong and stand up to even the most powerful of forces.

  Even though the branches on the trees were empty, they’d survived the storms. Unfortunately, they appeared to be having a harder time battling against the long winter.

  The cold and snow had eased up, but it had been years with these conditions. It was the main reason my mom told me to go south. If I could get to a warmer location, I could plant the seeds. I could start to build my own little oasis and live out the rest of my life.

  But I wasn’t even sure if that was what I wanted to do. Why would I want to live out the rest of my life alone?

  I swallowed hard and pressed on. It was going to be a long journey, and the faster I walked, the quicker I’d get there… wherever there was.

  The sun had moved across the sky much more quickly than I had anticipated it would. I wasn’t about to admit it, not even to myself, but my legs and my body were not prepared for the vigorous workout.

  I’d been indoors my entire life. The one thing I’d never practiced or trained for, was all the walking I’d have to do.

  I yawned so big my eyes closed tightly. They popped open with my exhale, and my entire body froze at what was in front of me.

  Not far ahead were two men. My dad would have wanted me to run, but I didn’t. My feet felt as though they were glued to the ground watching as they threw punches at one another.

  I ducked down behind a tree stump as best as I could and watched. Right when it looked like one of the two was winning, the other would land a blow.

  “Don’t get involved, Emery,” I told myself almost silently.

  The words sounded like a recording in my mind. It was definitely something my dad would have said to me.

  I couldn’t look away.

  I wanted to know what was happening. Why were they fighting?

  These two men were the first two people I’d ever seen besides my parents. I’d have been lying if I would have said I wasn’t fascinated. It was so much more than that.

  Curious.

  Intrigued.

  The desire to see their faces was overwhelming.

  One of them was all marked-up with ink all over his face and neck. He slammed his fist into the other man’s face, and for a second, it looked as though time stood still. Neither of them moved, but then, the unmarked man started to tip backward. He fell like a stone onto his back.

  The marked-up man knelt down beside him and started going through his pockets. He pulled something out, and his eyes darted around the area before he stood. He pulled his hood over his head and turned away. Snow spat out from beneath his boots as he ran.

  I still couldn’t move. It was like my body forgot how to work.

  I stared at the man’s unmoving body lying in the snow. My dad’s voice echoed in my head, but still, I didn’t heed the repeated warnings.

  The poor guy was just lying there in the cold snow… helpless. What was I supposed to do?

  Was he even still breathing?

  He could die.

  I couldn’t leave. I had to try to help. When I was sure the other guy was gone, I made my way over to the man.

  2

  I pointed my gun at his head and looked down at him. His eyes were closed. Blood leaked out of his nostril and trickled down his cheek, into the pure wh
ite snow. By the gentle up and down motions of his chest, I knew he was still alive.

  I could leave. The man wasn’t dead. He’d wake up and be able to go back to wherever it was he’d come from.

  His eyes opened to tiny slits, and he groaned. I could tell his eyes were focused on the barrel of my gun.

  “If you’re going to shoot me, just get on with it then,” he said in a thick, groggy voice. “As you might be able to see, I’m in no mood for games.”

  I adjusted my grip on the gun and bit my lip. He snorted slightly as he forced his eyes open wider.