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Author: Kerry Nietz
Published: May 5, 2015
Pages: 435
Ages: 16+ (I'm just guessing here.)
Synopsis: First, vampires in space. And now...zombies. Really?
Jebediah and the others are trying to get over the horrors they faced in deep space, and now this.
It's been five years, and the Amish colony on Miller's Resolve has finally gotten settled. Jeb and Sarah have a son. Elder Samuel is happy not being in charge. Darly has a private practice. And Greels is out of jail at last.
But when a mysterious ship from space arrives on Resolve, it unleashes a horde of undead that might spell the end of the survivors and their dreams of peace.
Will the specters of the past save them, or seal their fate?
Book Links
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| Kerry Nietz's first book was mentioned on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon |
Excerpt
Mark turned to the east, in the direction the ship had gone. For a moment he felt like an ancient explorer, now in a place where none had traveled. The ground was decidedly hillier on this side, and the grass long. Clumps of trees dotted the landscape. It made for an eerie and lonely spectacle in the dwindling sunlight.
At first, he saw no trace of the craft, and he worried that he’d crossed the river in vain. Then to the southeast, he saw a glimmer of brightness. He steeled himself and walked that direction, taking higher than normal steps to break through the grass. After five minutes of this, he began to tire but still kept on. Wise or not, the journey seemed to balm his emotional torment. There was a certain distraction to it, even while he felt unsettled. He should be angry at this unusual arrival, but mostly he felt curious.
The glimmer disappeared and Mark paused. He waited to see if it would return, but it did not. There was a wide clump of trees in that general direction, possibly a quarter mile ahead. He resolved to walk to the club, and if he didn’t see anything, turn back for the river. Darkness was coming.
Ten minutes later he reached the trees. They were low-lying and bushy, not that dissimilar from the trees that lined the riverbank. At first he walked to the east side of them, but when he glimpsed the “ship” he found himself pulling back, hiding.
It was bone-like, or at least the part he could see was. The lower portion seemed to be buried in the ground. The rest was at a slight angle, and was cylindrical all the way to the top where it gradually widened out. The color was an off white and the surface was uneven. Not smooth like Guild ships. Definitely like bone.
The craft was silent. Only the breeze rustled in the trees above him. Was someone inside? Were they injured? His compassion, his goal to be Christ-like, beckoned him onward, but something else restrained him. The strangeness of the ship, the odd way it came in, and even the uncanny quiet surrounding it—he didn’t like to admit he was fearful, but he was.
There was a deep “thunk” followed by a strained scratching sound, as if a rat were trying to carve its way in through a ceiling. The sound must’ve come from the other side of the ship, because Mark saw no visible change in the side facing him. He looked to the left and saw another clump of trees some distance to the east, too far away to reach quickly. He contemplated leaving his hiding place anyway. Curiosity suppressing fear.
Someone stumbled into view. His hair was bedraggled, his face smeared with grime and blood. His clothing was ripped in multiple places, exposing all of one arm and part of a leg. Both appendages appeared injured, though the leg more so, as it had a long cut that was visible even from where Mark stood.
The clothing wasn’t that different than Mark’s own, dark pants with suspenders and a light shirt. So perhaps it was another pilgrim?
This couldn’t be the pilot. All the others had been flown in by English’s. The pilot must’ve been injured, unable to control the ship. That would explain much—the craft’s tumble and its apparent crash landing.
It wouldn’t explain the ship’s design, though. That was still strange.
The man took a few limping steps forward, then panned the horizon all around. He looked down, then took another step to his left. A low groan escaped his lips.
If the man is injured, Mark though, I need to see if I can help. He stepped free of the trees.
The breeze seemed to stop, the grass falling completely still. The man’s eyes searched again and Mark raised a tentative hand. Waved.
The man’s eyes locked on him, and he froze for a full ten seconds.
The he seemed to smile.
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