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  War

  Book 2

  A Drew Murphy Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

  by

  E.M. Kelly

  War

  Book 2

  A Drew Murphy Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

  Famine

  2022

  Published by: Great Blue Hill Publishing

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN- 978-0-692-15907-1

  Copyright © E.M. Kelly

  Cover design: Deranged Doctor Design

  Famine: A Drew Murphy Post-Apocalyptic Thriller is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places are products of the author’s imagination.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  A very special thank you to my editors.

  Dianne Giambusso

  &

  Jennifer Dinsmore

  For my sister, Lea

  Contents

  A very special thank you

  For my sister, Lea

  Mike Casteel

  “The Water”

  Book of Revelation

  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

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Visit me at:

  Available Now!

  Coming Soon!

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Mike Casteel

  Song Writer

  They say certain songs come into your life for certain reasons. I definitely agree with that statement, especially when it comes to the song, “The Water” by Mike Casteel.

  It’s no secret that I’ve had my battle with the drink, and thankfully I’m in a good place now, but there’s still more work to be done. I’ve had God in my life, and then I lost Him. I now find myself on this journey through Hell to find whatever it is I’m meant to find.

  Just as I was sitting down to write War: A Drew Murphy Novel, this song came into my life. The lyrics combined with the way they are sung really resonated with me and reminded me of myself and made me emotional.

  “The Water” became an instant inspiration and was on heavy rotation while writing this book. I consider it to be the theme song for War.

  I reached out to Mike and told him how much his song meant to me, and I asked him if I could use the lyrics in the book.

  He responded, and I was humbled by his kindness. Although we’ve never actually met him, I consider Mike to be a friend and we follow each other on social media.

  I encourage you to check out “The Water” and Mike Casteel’s other songs at: www.mikecasteelmusic.com

  “The Water”

  Lord I know that I did wrong

  When I chose this road I’m on

  Yes I tried to turn around

  But every time I’d fall down

  It’s been years since I’ve been gone

  I think it’s time to go back home

  So here I stand my head hung low

  Lord have mercy on my soul

  Take me to the mountain

  I want to see the father

  Then take me to the river

  And cleansed me

  In the Water

  As I look back at where I’ve been

  I see a life that’s filled with sin

  I ain’t proud of what I’ve done

  But I’m just my daddy’s son

  And though it hurts me now

  I survived it all somehow

  So here I stand my head hung low

  Lord have mercy on my soul

  Take me to the mountain

  I want to see the father

  Then take me to the river

  And cleans me

  In the Water

  When it’s time to lay me down

  And they put me in the ground

  I won’t hurt anymore

  Because of trust in the Lord

  Now I know I’ve been forgiven

  For the life that I’ve been living

  So now I stand, my head held high

  Spread these wings and let me fly

  Well I climbed up on the mountain

  There I saw the Father

  Then I walked down to the river

  And he cleansed me

  In the Water

  Book of Revelation

  And when he had opened the second seal,

  I heard the second beast say, Come and see.

  -Revelation 6:3

  And there went out another horse that was red: and power was given to him that sat thereon to take peace from the earth, and that they should kill one another: and there was given unto him a great sword.

  -Revelation 6:4

  Chapter 1

  Manhattan, New York

  New York City did not look the way Glen had remembered. Once full of life and energy, the Big Apple now appeared desolate and frightening as the distant skyscrapers came closer into view. Goosebumps rippled up and down his arms at the sight of the foreboding stillness, nearly causing him to apply the brakes in an instinctive urge to end the journey just shy of his destination.

  Yet there was another part of him that wanted to press the accelerator upon finally seeing the much-longed-for finish line. After all, he had been on the road for over two days. The drive from Cincinnati to New York should have taken between ten and eleven hours under normal circumstances. But, like the rest of the survivors in this new world, Glen Daniels knew these weren’t normal circumstances.

  The drive had been slow, with long stretches of highway heavily congested with wrecked or abandoned vehicles, especially whenever his trip brought him near a major city. In those areas, he followed a path just wide enough for him to squeeze his car through. At one point, he rubbed tires with big eighteen-wheelers or
had traded paint with various car fenders. Somewhere just outside Columbus, Ohio, he had lost his right-side mirror to a blue Chevy Malibu. The control wires that moved the mirror were the only things left in its place. The way they hung made him imagine his car was some sort of creature, hidden underneath a shell, and he couldn’t stop glancing toward the thin tentacles as if expecting them to reach for him.

  Perhaps Glen’s imagination was really a defense mechanism his subconscious used to shield his sanity from the horrors he had witnessed in those congested areas, like the one he was now entering. It was all the other vehicles, the ones that weren’t moving, that were the real fright. So many had been abandoned in the middle of the highway. The worst were the ones with occupants who were as lifeless as their vehicle’s engine. He tried to keep his eyes forward whenever he passed them by, but there were just too many and Glen witnessed firsthand that the unexplained virus did not discriminate against race, gender, nor creed.

  Worse still, and the most maddening parts of this road trip through hell on Earth, were not the cars without corpses blocking his path, and not the cars with corpses, but the corpses without cars. The numerous dead lying in the middle of the highway. Glen dared not leave his own car to move the bodies out of his way, having been unsure if they were still contagious. His SUV was high enough off the ground, so his best option had been to drive slowly over such obstacles. He had shut his eyes each time he did so and tried to convince himself they were merely speed bumps, but the sound they made when his car drove over them was not the same thump that reminded him of speed bumps. This was more of a squish.

  Glen had cringed and tensed up with every scrape and screech caused by his forcing his way in between other vehicles. But that other sound, that squishier sound, would haunt his memories forever.

  Coming face-to-face with the aftermath of the plague that had spread across the globe should have been, and probably would be, enough to give him nightmares for the rest of his life. Instead, it was the broken mirror with the hanging wires that gave him the creeps. Glen almost laughed at his own absurdity.

  Some activity ahead brought his attention back to the present. Up on the right, four men dressed in coveralls and work boots used a backhoe and chains to remove cars from the roadway, and Glen slowed his SUV to a halt to wait for them to finish. A small wave of relief came over him. They were the first living people he had encountered since his departure from Cincinnati. And the fact that they were working to clear the roads felt like a good sign. It was like in a massive blizzard. When it hits, everything shuts down. But when you finally see the plows going up and down the roads you know the worst is over, and it won’t be long before things are back to normal.

  Still, he was too paranoid to get out and talk with the men. As much as he wanted an update, especially one that might bring some good news, the thought of the sickness kept him from leaving the safety of his car. He wouldn’t even roll down his windows. The men at work didn’t seem to have a desire to speak to him either, paying mind only to their task at hand. And he could tell they didn’t take any chances, noticing they all wore filtered masks.

  Once they removed the last car, the driver moved the backhoe off to the side and climbed out. He was older than the three men who worked the chains and, as he stepped down onto the asphalt, he looked toward Glen’s SUV and tipped his hat, as if to both thank him for waiting and to signal that he could proceed forward. Not sure what else to do, Glen just smiled and waved awkwardly as he slowly drove forward.

  From this point and heading toward the city, the highway now had a wide enough path for him to drive without the fear of debris, and he was more than thankful for the brave construction workers. No more close calls trying to fit through gaps barely wide enough for his car. No more corpses. No more squishing. Glen glanced over to his right and fixed his eyes again on the wires, dangling from where the side mirror had been. Though they still gave him an uneasy feeling, he smirked and gave them the finger, as if the improved road condition was his own personal victory with which he could taunt his adversary. “Take that, jackass,” he said aloud.

  The wires only fluttered in the wind. Glen’s smirk turned to a grimace, and he redirected his eyes forward, willing himself to ignore them.

  It was the solitude. He was sure of it. The solitude of the past two days; it was playing tricks on his mind. Why else would he eye the stupid side-mirror wires with suspicion? Why would he feel like they were a menacing creature, not an immediate threat, but something patiently waiting for him to exit the safety of his cocoon before ensnaring him in its death trap? “Stop it!” he snapped at himself suddenly. “They’re just fucking car parts!”

  It was more than solitude, he decided. It was the job. He was nothing without it. As a top news anchor in Cincinnati, Glen was revered and respected in his field. He was untouchable. But the suspension had taken that status away. All because that intern slut had to open her mouth and go public with their private affairs.

  Before her, Glen had been careful with his infidelities. But he supposed, inevitably, he would eventually slip up. The more often he screwed around, the more likely he’d get caught. It’s not like he wanted to make a habit of cheating, but given his position, so many young hotties had admired him, and he had thrived on the attention. It had made him feel powerful. But, in the end, it was his own ego that led to his downfall. He wooed and seduced the intern to satisfy that ego until she was completely head over heels. But, of course, he wouldn’t leave his wife for her.

  Glen supposed that when she got pregnant she’d thought that would be enough to get him to file for divorce. Now, on the road, he’d had plenty of time to think about it, and he suspected she had tampered with the condom she’d given him. That crazy bitch had most likely planned to get pregnant. And when he still wouldn’t leave his wife for her… well, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, as they say.

  He would have gladly funded her privately, would have been able to support her financially with no problems. But she just had to fuck up his world and rat him out to HR, then text his wife to boot. Within days, his world had been flipped upside down. Suspended from his prestigious position. Kicked out of his house.

  Then the sickness hit.

  Glen supposed, looking back, he should be thanking the girl. If it hadn’t been for her interfering with his perfect life, he might have gotten infected in the newsroom with everyone else. Instead, he’d been holed up safely in the apartment he’d temporarily been staying in. Thanks to her, he was still alive. Thanks to her, there weren’t many left alive with his experience, which was most likely why he had received a call from Mr. Williams at WTFH with an incredible offer to report on the aftermath of the crisis.

  In the end, it looked like karma was on his side after all. A sex addict he may be, but his addiction had saved his life. As far as Glen was concerned, he was one lucky son of a bitch. He dreamed of gaining even more fame from this new opportunity, and made a note to himself to get the most expensive bottle of scotch and raise a toast to the intern. She was probably among the dead now, may she rot in hell. He’d find himself a new pretty young thing soon enough. With society having crumbled, he doubted he would have to worry about HR again.

  Glen’s attention was quickly back on the road once he rounded a corner. His eyes widened at the view before him and he jammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a halt. The road before him now led straight into the city, and on both shoulders, as far as he could see, were stacks of bodies. Some were draped in sheets while countless others were exposed.

  Thousands of carrion birds perched on the piles of corpses, picking away at the bloated, open remains of men, women, and children. Their constant pecking caused blood to ooze into puddles that seeped into the street. Glen could see a thin film of yellow-and-green pus floating on top of the little crimson pools, like pollen at the edge of a lake.

  Suddenly, vomit rose from the depths of his stomach. He finally dared to open the window just in time to hurl
the contents of his digestive system out the side. It ran down the driver’s door and spattered onto the street below. Some chunks hit the edge of his door and seeped down the inside, wedging into the space between his door and his seat.

  The foul smell of his bile was nothing, however, compared to the intolerable odor of death from outside, which had now penetrated the interior of his car. Glen took in the sight of the horror before him again. Some bodies had rolled off the massive piles and ended up in the roadway. They looked like overcooked hotdogs, except the griddle was black asphalt. Glen forced himself to roll the window back up, preferring the scent of his own puke to that of the decaying sea of corpses.

  All he could do was sit in shock, his car idling, staring straight ahead at the cold stone cement buildings off in the distance, which rose up from the ground like tall tombstones. The city was one vast cemetery. He knew the death toll was catastrophic, but the impact of that knowledge was nothing compared to seeing it firsthand.

  Taking a deep breath in an attempt to get himself together, Glen put weight on the accelerator. He had seen enough. All he wanted was to get to the safety of the news station and be done with this nightmare of a drive.

  Suddenly a bright flash of white light exploded across his vision. Glen slammed on the brakes again and closed his eyes, shielding his face from the intensity with his forearm. When he reopened his eyes his vision was blurred, and it took some time before the impression of the whiteness started to wane. Even when he could finally see to some extent, he continued to blink rapidly, trying to clear the remaining white spot from his sight.

  “What the heck?” he cried aloud, his body shaking from the fright of the unexplained flash. At first he feared the end of it all, his mind entertaining the idea that the military had just detonated a weapon of mass destruction for some god-unknown reason, and he half expected the shockwave to hit at any second. But there had only been the flash of intense light; no sound. After several seconds, Glen breathed a sigh of relief when all remained still.