In the near future, a deadly flu-like virus decimates the Earth's population. The few who remain struggle to survive without electricity, fresh food, or any other amenities they once took for granted. John “Court” Courtland and his best friend Ronnie Densch are two such survivors. Court has never known a time when Ronnie wasn't in his life. They grew up together. But it's only as they begin to move forward in the post-apocalyptic chaos of Virginia that Court realizes he's in love with Ronnie. Always has been, and always will be, even if he never lets himself admit it out loud. Ronnie is a private, inscrutable man who lets no one close to him except Court. With winter coming on, Ronnie wants to move farther south to warmer weather, and Court follows without question. Along the way, they're joined by other survivors, a ragtag bunch all looking for guidance. As they travel, they hear faint radio signals from Fort Sumter, South Carolina, where a rebuild effort is underway. The world Court once knew has changed, leaving behind a dangerous and lawless landscape. But come whatever storms, he knows he can weather them with Ronnie by his side. Will Sumter turn out to be everything Court hopes for and more? And will he find the courage to tell Ronnie how he really feels before it’s too late?

Come Whatever Storms

Adam looked doubtful, but Bree brushed past him and started folding up the chairs. She handed one to Court, who took it and glanced around, uncertain. “Where am I supposed to put this?” he wanted to know.


“There’s plenty of room in the bathroom,” she said. “Come on, hurry up. The sun’s almost gone, and I’ll be happy once we’re settled in for the night.”


Adam helped with the chairs, and soon there was no room in the small bathroom for anything else. The table was too large to get through the door, and Court tipped it on its side, hoping it’d go through that way, but no. Between them, he and Adam got two legs out, then couldn’t move it any further. “Shit,” Court cursed. He was outside in the hallway, the table blocking the doorway, and everyone else was in the room. The table was wedged pretty well—two legs outside, two inside, and no room to budge or wiggle it in either direction.


Chapter 77