The two dull red running lights on the back of the flatbed car disappeared with rapid inevitability into the thickening and freezing smog, and Evelyn, unable to contain her sadness and frustration any longer, dissolved into earnest tears that burned cold on her frozen cheeks. Her earlier tantrums were nothing compared to the profound sense of loss that chewed painfully at her belly and clutched at her throat. She felt light-headed and sick with worry, her dear boys, her only surviving children had gone from her, not abducted by Stevie, as she wrongly assumed at first, but gone nevertheless, and no one had offered her anything in the way of reassurance that they’d be returning any time soon.
Evelyn bawled inconsolably into Frank’s stiffening and freezing wet coat shoulder.
“They’re gone,” she mourned in his ear, “Eddie, my brother Brad, the baby, an’ now the boys!” Frank took no offence from Evelyn’s failure to acknowledge his relationship to her; he quite understood the direction her despondency had taken.
Evie wanted someone, preferably Frank, to tell her she’d woken from a rotten nightmare. She’d tried to paper over her deepest fears by nattering and chattering on, but had ended up sounding like a demented hen wife. Whoever else Evelyn Beaton managed to confound it was never herself.

Cataclysm’s Day: First Book of The Gatherers Trilogy.



  1. Wow!

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