B.T. Wright - Uncivil War: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller

The Uncivil War Series

UNCIVIL WAR

UNCIVIL WAR: INFECTED

(available - 7/30/19)

UNCIVIL WAR: EVOLUTION

(available - 8/13/19)

UNCIVIL WAR: TAKEOVER

(available - 8/27/19)

UNCIVIL WAR: RECKONING

(September 2019)

UNCIVIL WAR: AFTERMATH

(October 2019)

Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it.

Hunter S. Thompson

Monsters will always exist. There's one inside each of us. But an angel lives there, too. There is no more important agenda than figuring out how to slay one and nurture the other.

Jacqueline Novogratz

Uncivil War is an episodic six novel series where youll follow two brothers into the apocalypse. What makes our story unique is that I, B.T. Wright, will be writing Jake Maddoxs story, and Jonathan Dudycha will be writing Colt Maddoxs story.

The advantage this gives us as co-authors is that each brother will truly have his own unique voice, because the authors have theirs. We believe the stories of the different brothers are much more authentic because of the way we have split the storytelling duties.

As the reader, you get to see the apocalypse from two different perspectives along the same timeline. Jake lives in Kentucky and Colt lives in Colorado. They both confront their own obstacles along the way while trying to fight their way back to each other. Each novel in the series is from one brother's perspective, battling through a world that all of a sudden is nothing like it used to be.

We hope you enjoy the ride. It has certainly been fun for us to write.

Book 1

by

B.T. Wright

What the hell is so dire that you dragged us to the PEOC in the middle of the night?

President of the United States John Miller was disheveled. His silver hair was a mess, his clothes half on while hanging from his lanky frame, and his mind remained in the fog of sleep. The Presidential Emergency Operations Center, a bunker-like structure below the White House, was the most secure place to put the president on such short notice. He and his wife had been rushed there from their bed by secret service at the behest of George Armstrong, the secretary of defense.

And what the hell are Jerry and Will doing here? Whats going on?

The president was referring to Jerry Wesley, the director of the CIA, and Will Dunning, head of the FBI.

Have a seat, Mr. President, George said. Please. We dont have a lot of time.

George was a broad-shouldered man, big by anyones standards. The gray in his hair matched his beard, and his uniform was finely pressed as always. There was fear in his voice. And he had a look of worry that President Miller had never seen his old friend wear before. It was hard not to fear the worst.

George picked up a remote from the table behind which he, the president, and the first lady were seated. The large television on the wall in front of them came to life. Jerry and Will looked on, standing against the wall behind them.

George cleared his throat. Remember the outbreak weve been monitoring at the US Army base in Syria? The one thats progressively gotten worse?

The president let out a sigh of relief. Good God, George, the way you all are acting I thought someone had shot off a nuclear bomb. Dont bury the lead next time. Cant we do this in the Oval Office? Cant Melissa go back to bed?

Though it didnt seem possible, Georges face had grown even more worried.

Fine, then, spit it out already. Yes, I remember the outbreak.

George toggled something on the screen. In the last forty-eight hours, sir

Cut it out, George. Call me John. And can someone get me some coffee?

A woman in the corner of the room made a move for the carafe on the table and began to pour coffee into a mug. And who the hell is she? She cleared for this conversation? the president said.

John, Ill introduce you in just a second. Shes the reason we all are in here. This is bad. Real bad.

Well all right then, get on with it. The president rolled his hand, motioning for George to proceed.

The last forty-eight hours, George continued, the same outbreak that has been getting worse in Syria has spread. John, its everywhere.

What do you mean its everywhere? The whole base caught it?

No, sir, every base caught it.

The presidents face scrunched in confusion. Every base? We only have one Army base in Syria. You okay, George? You feeling all right?

Not just the Army base, John. And not just Syria either. Every base, every single one we have in the entire world.

What?

The room was quiet. George punched a couple of buttons, and a flat map of the Earth appeared on screen. Red dots were everywhere, all over the map.

The woman moved in and set a cup of coffee in front of both the president and his wife.

John, George said, this is Doctor Emily Fraser.

Mr. President, Emily said. Mrs. Miller.

The president simply nodded. He was still trying to process what George had started to say. Emily was a good-looking young woman, late twenties, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail. She was dressed in a business suit, the only thing left in her wardrobe fit for the occasion of meeting with the president.