Someone
had once been stupid enough to calculate the odds of any one person surviving
the first two years of the invasion.
Then they’d been even dumber and told those odds to Arner. The number had been so astronomical as to be
impossible. And the odds of a group
consisting of one adult and three children, one still in her diapers?
Arner
had been too busy beating the shit out of the mathematician to find that
out.
He swung his arm out to the
nightstand, easily finding his lamp in the utter darkness and switching it
on.
Coming January
2013
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