Free Broken Lives: A Tale of Survival in a Powerless World (Broken Lines Book 4) by James Hunt

that.
     
    The door to the truck swung open and Beth brought the rifle up to her shoulder. A boot hit the gravel followed by another. The man that spun around from the door wore beige army fatigues, aviator sunglasses, and had short crew-cut hair with a clean-shaven face.
     
    He also wore a 9mm pistol holstered on each hip, held together with a belt and additional ammo. He kept walking toward Beth, but neither of them said anything. She was still in shock at the sight of a working vehicle in her front yard.
     
    Beth examined his uniform. There wasn’t a single fiber out of place. She looked back inside the truck to see if there was anyone else, but the sun’s glare still blocked her view. If there were others inside they didn’t step out.
     
    “I can wait for you to grab some bullets to reload if you’d like.”
     
    “Who are you?” Beth asked.
     
    The soldier kept his hands behind his back as he walked up the porch steps. He took off his sunglasses and two piercing blue eyes examined her.
     
    “My name is Cain. I’m a part of the Cincinnati scouting division,” he said.
     
    “Cincinnati? You’re quite a ways from home.”
     
    “Not as far as you’d think,” he said.
     
    “What do you want?”

“Are you here alone?”
     
    Beth took a step back and held up the rifle between them out of instinct, forgetting there wasn’t any ammo in the gun.
     
    “I’m here to help,” Cain said.
     
    “Help how?”
     
    Cain stepped forward, the barrel of the gun pushing into his chest. He leaned forward as far as he could, looking Beth straight in the eyes.
     
    “I can help get back what you lost.”
     

 
    ***
     
    Fay knew something was wrong when she inserted the key into the door for Jung’s room and saw that the chain lock had been set.
     
    “Jung? Jung, open up,” Fay said.
     
    She tried to peek through the small crack in the door, but she couldn’t see anything. She pounded her fist on the door.
     
    “Jung, this isn’t funny.”
     
    That’s when she saw a hand limp on the floor. When the sunlight from the cracked door hit Jung’s hand it shimmered red.
     
    “Jung!”
     
    Fay took a step back and kicked the door in, breaking the chain and flooding the dark room with sunlight. She rushed over to Jung, who was unconscious on the floor. His wrists were cut and blood was everywhere.
     
    “Oh my God, Jung, no.”
     
    She checked his pulse, but couldn’t feel anything. She bent her face down to check his breathing, but there was nothing. She tore the sheets off the bed, wrapping them around Jung’s wrists. She wasn’t sure if there was any blood left to stop, but she couldn’t think of anything else to do. She tied the sheets as tight as she could.
     
    Fay placed her hands on Jung’s chest, trying to remember the CPR course she took a few years back and what she needed to do to try and restart his heart. She placed the heel of her palm on his sternum in the middle of his chest. She pressed down hard, hearing the crack of bones. She didn’t stop though. She counted to thirty and tilted his head back, clearing the airway, and pushed two breaths into his lungs.
     
    “C’mon, Jung, c’mon.”
     
    Fay kept her arms rigid, pressing down on Jung’s chest. She was in the middle of the compressions when she heard Billy running up the stairs. She panicked.
     
    “Billy, don’t bring the kids up here!” Fay shouted.
     
    Billy rushed into the room. Fay looked around for Claire or Jung Jr., but they weren’t with him.
     
    “Don’t worry; I put them in a room downstairs. What happened?” Billy asked.
     
    Fay gestured to the sheets around Jung’s wrists. Blood covered her hands and the carpet.
     
    “He wasn’t breathing when I came in. He was passed out on the floor. I couldn’t feel a pulse either,” Fay said.
     
    “Jesus.”
     
    Billy started messing with the sheets around Jung’s wrists.
     
    “What are you doing?” Fay asked.
     
    “Making a