Lone Survivor Book Novels & Stories

She knew I could see it. Only she and my grandmother knew that name. "I’m so happy… my Nia has grown strong in a place I couldn’t see. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you." I shook my head through tears. I was happy too; I had never thought I’d get to see her again. "As long as you’re happy, I’ll be happy." In the end, I woke slowly on the operating table. The world had returned to normal. Winson was imprisoned for rape, tax evasion, and unlawful confinement.

I cry to Brixtius, shaking him out of his shock. "We need to warn the house first!" Brixtius runs back into the house to raise the alarm. I stare as Vesuvius keeps throwing up ash into the air, and the deadly ash has started to fall back down to the earth. It is a wondrous sight to behold, nature in all her violence and beauty fused into one. Lighting has started to streak from the enormous cloud, and I was transfixed by the designs against the now darkening sky. No sun now. Only darkness. Like a tomb. It dawns on me. I was not meant to survive Pompeii. "Fuck you, fairies!" I scream into the air.

No matter how much he tried to rationalise it, the truth remained: he had lost control, and Desmond could have died. Darius squeezed his shoulder again, a gesture meant to comfort—but even Darius’s presence couldn’t calm the storm inside him. He had never felt more alone, not even when he had been struggling with his feelings for Amara. “Everyone back to your dorms!” Professor Steve ordered, cutting through the silence like a knife.

“Your love keeps me. It's one of the reasons I'm not losing my goddam mind right now because everything else around me is white noise, tipping me to the edge of insanity. But you, you're my anchor…” “My support.” I kiss the skin beneath her ear as the first tear finally escapes from my eyes. Immediately, Laura feels it; she echoes my name like a prayer. “Michael.” Then she wraps her arms around me, anchoring me. It's always been about survival for me right from a young age. Even now. I may have all the money in the world, I may be the Pakhan, the leader of the biggest mafia clan, who doesn't show any emotions, but I'm human.

And I was dangerously close to showing her exactly how her little theory about momentum played out in real life. But with all this, she’d just proven what I’d known long before she ever showed up in this city – lone wolves were fu.cked up.

The crowd erupted in quiet cheers, whistles, claps, and laughter—joy sweeping through the clearing like sunlight breaking through clouds. I found myself smiling so wide my cheeks ached. Tonight, we remembered. And tonight, we celebrated. We were more than survivors—we were something new. And we were just getting started. *Note from the author* Book two Starts in the next chapter. "What Rose From the Ashes" I hope everyone has enjoied reading "What Survived the Burn" as much as I have enjoied writing it. This is why I see no other way than to begin book two...

“I want every detail—where they were, who they spoke to, even what they had for breakfast if necessary. No surprises, Lorenzo.” “Understood, Boss,” Lorenzo replies, hesitating before adding, “But… there’s something else.” I exhale sharply, the weight of the situation pressing on me. “Spit it out.” “There’s a survivor,” he says carefully. “He’s critical, but he might make it. We’ve got him at the safehouse.” My pulse quickens. A survivor means answers—or a loose end. “I want him alive,” I state firmly, though I doubt he’ll survive long enough to tell me much.

"She's just a kid, and she's already out there getting hotel rooms with people? And now that she's gone missing, she's making all of you run in circles? "Pat, why do you still bother with a walking disaster like her? Wouldn't it be better if she just died out there somewhere?" The cold fury in her eyes made me shudder. Patrick finally seized the chance to speak. "Grace, Aubree booked Room 318." Mom had been about to snap back, but suddenly, she froze as if something had just come to mind.

He would uncover the truth by any means necessary. The moon pulsed behind heavy clouds. Ophelia sat before the hearth, staring into the flames, with fingers clenched around the edge of a worn book, one of Aaron’s journals. She took it the morning she snuck into the library, which felt like a lifetime ago, even though barely a week had gone by since the argument, the kidnapping, the escape, the shift, and the revelation. Her life had become almost unrecognizable in a week, and it was just the tip of the iceberg.

The abnormal weather had killed many survivors. In my past life, I'd only arrived at a safe zone five months after the zombie outbreak. There'd been elite soldiers and over a hundred thousand survivors there. Over a hundred of these safe zones were scattered across the country, significantly contributing to mankind's survival. "Why aren't we leaving now since the safe zones have already been set up?" Mom asked me. I looked at the snow outside. "It's highly likely we'll freeze to death in this weather if our car breaks down." …