Table of Contents

Concurrence (Apocalypsis Immortuos, #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Epilogue

Chapter 63

About the Author

Disclaimer

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental

Copyright

© 2020 BY MARCO DE Hoogh

Cover design © Michael Dargie

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedications

IT WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN possible for me to take this story to a book stage without the many people that have supported me, from my family (also known as my alpha readers) to the people that leave me positive and encouraging reviews.

Credits for the cover go to Michael Dargie and his zombie drawing sidekick; Nicholas Acs.

In particular, I would like to thank my beta readers, including Ryan McComiskey, John O’regan, Anita Morison, Inge Verkley, and my wonderful editor C.B. Moore. Thank you all for joining me on this journey!

“I AM A MOST UNHAPPY man. I have unwittingly ruined my country. A great industrial nation is controlled by its system of credit. Our system of credit is concentrated. The growth of the nation, therefore, and all our activities are in the hands of a few men. We have come to be the worst ruled, one of the most completely controlled and dominated governments in the civilized world — no longer a government by free opinion, no longer a government by conviction and the vote of the majority, but a government by the opinion and duress of a small group of dominant men.”

Woodrow Wilson

Chapter 1

October 10, 6:05 P.M., River Valley Veterinary Clinic

It’s getting dark. The days are getting shorter.

Joe looked over his shoulder.

He had his foot propped against the door to his veterinary clinic, holding it wide open. The lights in the mostly empty parking lot had switched on only a minute ago. The soft hum of the lamps warming up could just be heard above the ambient city noises. Joe turned his head and scanned the darkened reception area.

Where is that damn girl? “Come on Christine! Let’s get a move on!”

“I’m coming.” His daughter yelled from somewhere in the back of the clinic.

A small grin broke over Joe’s face as he picked up the frustration in her voice. Joe heard her talking to herself: “Now where did I leave that damn phone?”

Damn phone was right. She was always on the thing. Texting her boyfriend along with her posse of girlfriends, doing the Facebook, the Twitter and whatever else young folks did on those devices. Oh yeah, those damn games. Feeding Smurfs and crushing candy.

Well, the girl had left her phone sitting somewhere. Joe figured the odds were that it was either in the bathroom or the administrative office, where coincidentally she spent another huge chunk of her time. In this case on that damn computer.

Today’s kids... They’re just plain addicted to technology. Now, back in my day things were a lot simpler.

A voice startled him out of his reverie. “Doctor Collins?”

“Huh?” Joe turned and quickly had to grasp the door to keep if from closing.

A woman had approached him from the parking lot. She took an involuntary step back, as if afraid or embarrassed at Joe’s startled response.

Now it was Joe’s turn to be embarrassed. “Sorry, madam! You just startled me, is all...” He took a closer look and recognized the young woman. “Miss Jeffersons?”

She stepped forward with a small nod. It never occurred to Joe that he had not heard Maddie Jeffersons’s vehicle pull into the parking lot.

“Yes, Doctor Collins, it’s me.”

The Jeffersons ran a small farm about thirty miles outside of the city. Joe had treated their dairy cows and a selection of other animals on multiple occasions over the last decade.

“Is everything okay at the farm? We’re just closing up the clinic for the day...” Joe was just about to ask why she had not called, if something was indeed wrong, when Miss Jeffersons raised her hand in a placating manner.

“Yes, everything is fine at the farm. Mom asked me to, um, deliver a gift to you.”

“Found it!” The announcement rang out from the dark interior of the clinic. Miss Jeffersons’s gaze drifted over Joe’s shoulder before settling back on the doctor.

“Doctor Collins. We wanted to ... give you these, as a thank you for your service.” Miss Jeffersons was holding a basket with her other hand, which she now raised towards Joe.

Just then Christine made it to the door.

“It was on my desk the whole time. Talk about hiding in plain sight. See?” She held up the cellphone to her dad as if to prove she really had found it.

“Oh!” she exclaimed when she noticed the newcomer. “Hi, Maddie. What are you doing here? We’re about to close up for the day.” She quickly met her dad’s eyes. “Do you want me to turn the lights back on?”

“No, dear — it’s fine. Miss Jeffersons has brought us a gift.” Joe indicated the basket in

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