The End of Hope (The End of Everything Book 4), page 1
The End of Hope
By
Nate Johnson
Copyright 2023 Nathan Johnson
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof in any form. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means. This is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author's imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Purple Herb Publishing
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Dedicated to
Travis Strong
A man to be admired.
Other books by Nate Johnson
Intrepid (Taurian Empire 1)
Blackthorn (Taurian Empire 2)
Discovery (Taurian Empire 3)
Drake's Rift (Taurian Empire 4)
Dauntless (Taurian Empire 5)
The End of Everything (The End of Everything 1)
The End of the Beginning (The End of Everything 2)
The End of an Era (The End of Everything 3)
The End of Hope (The End of Everything 4)
Worth Saving (Post Apocalyptic)
Stolen Reality
Nolan Reed
A Demon’s Nightmare
First (Short Story)
The End of Hope
Chapter One
Mia
It wasn’t the worst foster home. Believe me, I knew what a bad one was like. The McKenzies were cool. John and Martha. Or at least as cool as old people got. Really, it’s only major drawback was being out in the middle of nowhere. Stuck up in the mountains of Northern Montana.
But then that isolation is what saved us when the world ended. I know, something none of us expected. But I’ll take it. It beats the alternative by a mile.
Growing up, I couldn’t afford to not see reality. An addict for a mother will do that for a girl. Believe me, I knew when I had it good. So when my foster mother came into the kitchen white-faced, looking down at her phone with large eyes, my gut tightened. I knew trouble when I saw it.
“I need you to drive me into town, Mia,” she said without looking up from the phone.
Of course I was immediately torn in two different directions. Ecstasy at the thought of getting to drive. Even more at the thought of going into town. Even if Hope Montana was more village than town. Those happy feelings were tempered by the trepidation I saw it in her face. Something was wrong. And in my life, wrong could be real bad.
“Okay,” I said as calmly as possible as I glanced over at my foster sister Lily. She looked like I felt, nervous. As a very old thirteen, she knew even more than me how wrong things could get. I might be seventeen, but in many ways, Lily was older, she’d had been through even worse than me and that was saying a lot.
Brad, my ten-year-old foster brother was oblivious, shoveling raisin bran into his mouth like he was afraid someone was going to take it from him. If we had known then, I would have made him save some.
“They’ve called a town meeting in Hope,” Martha said as she took a deep breath. “John went to the city for a doctor’s appointment.”
I cringed, That meant he’d gone all the way to Great Falls. The only sort of city within two hundred miles. The biggest thing around at sixty thousand people and a hundred miles of mountain roads away. That meant another thing to worry about. If John was going that far it must be serious.
“Can we go?” Brad asked.
Martha shook her head. “Lily, you muck our Benji’s stall. And Brad, the garden needs weeding.”
“Oh, man,” he whined as his head slumped.
“And,” Martha continued shooting him that mother’s frown. “Your room needs to be cleaned. You know how I want it. It looks like I’m raising a hobo. I’ve seen cleaner pig sties.
“Yes, Mam,” he said again. Brad knew we had it better than most. One thing you learned early in the system was not to upset your foster parents unless you wanted to get tossed back into the deep end.
“And you,” Martha said to Nellie, our black and white border collie, “you make sure they don’t get into trouble.”
We all laughed because she wasn’t far off the truth. Nellie was probably the smartest dog in the universe.
“Come on Mia,” Martha said as she got her purse. “We need to hurry.”
I put my cereal bowl in the sink then grabbed the truck keys off the peg. John had taught me last year how to drive and taken me all the way to Great Falls to get my license. Then we’d stopped at McDonald’s before I got to drive all the way home. I swear it had been one of the greatest days of my life.
Martha didn’t drive. I don’t know why. It was just one of those things. But then there wasn’t much need. We were seven miles of dirt road out of Hope and Martha never went anywhere.
I made sure all the mirrors were set up correctly then started the truck and pulled out of the yard towards town.
Martha leaned over to turn on the radio, country music. But then what else were you going to get in Northern Montana?
“So, what is going on?” I asked her.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. The mayor called a meeting of the town. He wants everyone there.”
Again, one of those words that had different meanings depending upon who you were talking about. Our mayor was mayor because no one else wanted the job. You would think a town of a hundred people wouldn’t need a mayor. But it made the multitude of Hope feel like they were a real town.
I let it go and decided to enjoy the day.
It was mid-June. Brown grass and purple sagebrush covered the valley floor. The ridges were draped in green pines and cedar. All combined with that gorgeous blue sky of Montana. The one that goes on forever. A soft wind blew down the valley from the north. Not too hot but warm enough that a girl could enjoy the day. And I was going to town.
Of course, nothing stays simple. Again, one of life’s lessons learned early.
We had just driven through the second creek ford when I spotted a boy walking to the side of the dirt road. And then he turned and looked over his shoulder and my stomach fluttered.
Several things hit me all at once. One, he wasn’t one of the six boys in the valley around my age. I knew them all and this guy was too good-looking to be one of them. Black hair and blue eyes. A killer combination. Second, a big backcountry backpack hanging off wide shoulders. Tall, and like I said, striking. The devastating tall, dark, and handsome in worn jeans, a flannel shirt, and hiking boots.
Out here in the middle of nowhere.
But then, Martha had to ruin it all by telling me to stop as she rolled down her window. I might have said Martha was cool. But not really. I was dressed in ratty jeans and a black T-shirt, my hair in a ponytail that needed work. The last thing I wanted was to talk to some guy with my foster mother right there. Even if he was cute.
I pulled to a stop next to him in a small cloud of dust as he smiled, dipping his ball cap. My butterflies jumped even higher.
“Hello,” Martha said with a welcoming smile. “You headed to Hope?”
I fought to not roll my eyes. Of course he was going to town. Where else could he go out here? Disneyland?
“Yes ma’am,” he said then shot me a quick glance that made my insides go all wonky. “I’ve been hiking the backcountry for the last couple of weeks and need to stock up on supplies.”
Okay, maybe eighteen, with a deep voice like melted chocolate. Intelligent eyes and an easy smile.
“I’m Martha Jensen, this is my foster daughter Mia Burk. Do you want a lift?”
He glanced at me again and I swear I saw something in his eyes that let me know he liked what he saw. The kind of a look that made a girl glad to be alive. “Jake Roberts,” he said with a dip of his head, “Nice to meet you both, and yes, a lift would be great.”
My heart raced a little as I waited for him to sling his pack over into the back of the truck then hop in. He perched on the wheel well then caught me looking at him in the rearview mirror, making my cheeks flame with heat. He gave me a quick smile and my insides settled. Okay, now I knew what I was dealing with. Confident, almost cocky. But then a guy like him had good reason. One of those guys who drew girls likes a sponge soaks up water. The kind of guy used to being chased.
And since I didn’t do that, it wasn’t going to be a thing.
As we drove, Marth kept shooting me secret looks, fighting not to smile. “You know,” she began. “It wouldn’t hurt to smile now and then. Especially around a cute boy.”
“Shush,” I hissed as I quickly glanced in the mirror to make sure he hadn’t heard her.
She laughed and shook her head.
My grip on the steering wheel grew tighter as I fought not to look over my shoulder. And since we were the only car within a dozen miles, there wasn’t really an excuse to look in the mirror. Of course I might have done it anyway and I swear, every time, he caught me. God, life can suck sometimes.
Thankfully, ten minutes later we popped up onto the paved road a mile outside the metropolis of Hope Montana. Population around a hundred, during the tourist season when we’d get a half dozen fly fishermen in for a few days.
I was filled with a small sense of shame as we approached town. It was so small, so ridiculous. So unimpressive. You know how people talk about a one-stoplight town? Well, Hope didn’
One church, two bars on either side of the church, on one side of the road. Parker’s general store, a gas station slash convenience store combined with the twelve-room motel and Mrs. Jackson’s art gallery that sold a painting once a year on the other.
The busiest place in town was the bar to the left of the church named the Popeye’s. Yes, I know that was grammatically incorrect but this was Hope Montana, People didn’t care enough to change it.
That was downtown. The rest was a mix of maybe two dozen small homes and doublewide trailers stretching in and out of town. Or homes like ours out away from town. Up on the hill above town, the tailings from a played-out silver mine. It had been shut down for ten years or so, the town just hadn’t finished dying yet.
“Park over there,” Martha said pointing to the front of the General store.
Smiling, I silently let out a breath. I wasn’t going to have to demonstrate my parallel parking skills. The town’s sidewalks stretched about a hundred yards on either side of the road. Sixteen spots if you didn’t count the motel parking lot. But I could slide into the one on the end.
Jake jumped out of the back and slung his backpack over one shoulder and tipped his hat, “Thank you, ladies.”
Martha smiled. I of course forgot how to talk. It was at that moment when my world began to really change. The radio gave off those three emergency tones then interrupted the song to say.
“This is an emergency broadcast. Everyone is to stay at home. I repeat, The CDC has ordered an immediate quarantine. Everyone is to stay inside. If at work, stay at work. If in a car, pull to the side of the road and await further instructions. Do not get out of your car. If you are at home. Stay at home with doors and windows shut.”
My stomach fell, no way this was good. The world suddenly felt flat and unformed as if I had nowhere to stand. Martha frowned and shook her head as she opened her door. “No way I’m listening to the government, they wouldn’t know their elbow from a thorn bush.”
Jake’s brow furrowed as he stepped out of the way of the door. I could see he was trying to work out what the radio had meant. He was alone, in a strange town in the middle of nowhere.
Me, being the smart, together girl I am, remained frozen. The radio said we were supposed to stay in the car. But my foster mother refused. A disagreement between authority figures. But hey, I knew where my next meal was coming from so I got out.
Jake gave me a quick smile and once again my heart fluttered.
I was looking down, afraid to meet his stare when Martha made me cringe again, “You better come with us,” she said to Jake. “This is probably what the town meeting is all about. You’ll learn what is going on.”
Jake glanced over at me then smiled and I could see it in his eyes. An excuse to hang out with me. To say I was shocked would be putting it mildly.
“Yes Ma’am,”
Okay, the world was in trouble, my foster father was ill, and now I had to deal with a cute boy. One of those stressful days I hate. Of course, it would turn out to be so much better than anything I would ever know again. The last day of almost normal.
Chapter Two
Jake
I might be an eighteen-year-old boy, but I’m not completely stupid. When I get a chance to hang out with a pretty girl, I’m going to take it. Besides, I was sort of curious. That emergency broadcast could mean any of a thousand things. I figured it was best if I found out.
Stepping back, I let the ladies lead the way. Mia glanced over her shoulder and I couldn’t not smile. Pretty, shy, with an intelligent look in her eyes. Besides, I’d been in the backcountry for two weeks. A heart-shaped face with high cheekbones. Chocolate brown hair in a ponytail.
Have I ever told you how cute a ponytail is on a young woman?
“So, where you from,” Martha asked me.
“St Louis Ma’am. Hiking and camping for a couple of months before I go to college, WSU. My last chance at a little freedom.”
She smiled and nodded that she understood.
It looked like more than half the town was going to the meeting. We had just crossed the street and were walking up to the church when a cop, a deputy sheriff, held up his hand to stop me.
My gut sank, I knew that questioning stare. Tall, thin, maybe forty, he looked like he’d seen it all. A calmness about him if you know what I mean. The name badge said BALDWIN.
“Where’d you come from?” he demanded.
So much for pleasantries. “I was hiking the Henderson trail. Came into town to load up.”
His brow furrowed as he continued to stare, glanced over at the ladies then back at me, “Did you see anyone else out there?”
I hadn’t expected that question. Something wasn’t right. Had someone gotten killed? Was I a suspect in something I didn’t even know about?
“Not for the last week,” I answered as I frantically tried to figure out what was going on. “Saw a couple a week ago but we never got close enough to talk. I took a side branch and they never caught up.”
I think he was going to interrogate me more when someone called from the church. He thought for a moment then nodded at me, before stepping back.
“Really Tim,” Martha said to him before shaking her head. “Come on,” she added as she took my arm and pulled me away from the cop. “Don’t mind him. Strangers are rare around here.”
I hesitated at the church door. God and I were not on a first-name basis, it had been nine years since I had been in a church and I had never expected to ever enter one again. But something told me I needed to be in this meeting.
It was a small church for a small town. Almost a chapel and not a church. A dozen pews, a stained-glass window of an angel behind the pulpit.
Martha led us to the middle then went in first. I felt Mia next to me balk for a moment then followed her foster mother in leaving me to follow. Okay, I could handle that. I’d be sitting next to the pretty girl, Martha hadn’t pushed herself in between us.
I dropped my pack between my legs and sat down next to Mia. She shot me a glance then looked down at her hands in her lap.
“So,” I whispered, “If this town were any smaller it’d fit in a woman’s purse.”
Her eyes widened then she barked out a laugh before she could stop herself. Quickly putting a hand over her mouth she shot me a look of shock mixed with a hint of happy.
Martha didn’t shake her head, instead pretending her foster daughter hadn’t just embarrassed herself in church.
“Sorry,” I whispered again. “I will tune down the humor. I know how girls can’t stand a funny guy.”
This time she was fighting not to smile and failing miserably, then she said, “There is a huge difference between funny and silly.”
My heart jumped. He shoots, he scores. She had just acknowledged I existed, a major step forward.
An awkward silence fell between us as I desperately tried to think of something funny to keep the conversation going when the heavy church doors were closed and a heavyset bald man walked to the pulpit.
“I need a sportscaster to tell me who the players are,” I told her.
“Mayor Stewart,” Mia whispered. “That’s officer Tim Baldwin standing off to the side, but you’ve already met him.”
Twisting I did a quick count and came up with just short of eighty people. Old people, young couples with children. A lot of singles. Most of the town I would say.”
The Mayor stepped to the pulpit looking like a man afraid of his own shadow. Pasty face, sweat on his brow. He confirmed it when he took out a handkerchief and wiped his bald pate.
“Some of you heard the emergency broadcast,” he started.
“Ain’t we supposed to be in our homes? Why’d you call us here?” Someone called out.
“Don’t listen to the government,” another older man said. “They just want to tell us what to do. Makes ‘em feel like they’re important.”
The room broke into a dozen people mumbling, agreeing, and disagreeing. The mayor held up his hand as he swallowed hard. Eventually, the crowd settled down.
“I received a call from Paul Sanderson, you remember him? Works in the governor’s office.”
