Distant Beyond (The Beyond Book 4)

The Dead Rule the Earth. But the Living Aren’t Done Yet.

In the year 2047, civilization has crumbled—but not completely. Amid the ruins of the old world, survivors have rebuilt a semblance of order in Mackinaw City, Michigan. From this last bastion, Walter, a former reconnaissance soldier, ventures into the wasteland to gather intelligence. What he finds—a small but determined group of survivors on a farm in Compton, Illinois—could change everything.

Back in the city, Trevor, once a loyal guard, uncovers unsettling truths in a new mission riddled with political deception. Across the globe, in the shadows of post-apocalyptic Hong Kong and the war-torn streets of Tirana, Albania, others are drawn into conflicts of their own—fueled by legacy, vengeance, and survival.

As paths cross and agendas collide, alliances will be tested, and consequences will be deadly.

Available now—step into the future where the dead walk, and the living fight for more than survival.

Excerpt from the book

“Knight to G 5,” Aleksandr said.

The radio had cut out, so it only let through every other syllable and sounded like “-ight -o -e -ive.” However, Pharaoh didn’t have to hear it. He already knew what his opponent was going to say. It was only a matter of time before Aleksandr would attempt a Fried Liver Attack, his fa-vorite chess opening. Pharaoh made the move on his own board and leaned his head closer to the radio so he could confirm his next one. He could have made a pithy comment about Ale-ksandr’s play, but he didn’t. Instead, he relayed his move and looked through his rangefinder.

Pharaoh was on the balcony of his sixth-floor apartment. The chess set was on the table to his left, and his Zastava M48 was on a tripod mount to his right. The weapon was aimed at the window of Aleksandr’s fourth-floor apartment across the way. The mountains in Dajti National Park were visible behind Aleksandr’s building, the lone building among some empty lots. It didn’t stick out, but it starkly contrasted with the mountain range behind it. Through the eye-piece, Pharaoh watched Aleksandr study the board. Aleksandr checked his watch.

“Can we pick this back up in a few hours?” Aleksandr asked.

“Flutura stopping by?”

“Yes.”

“OK. How’s 1400?”

“Sounds good.”

Pharaoh watched Aleksandr stand and stretch. The man had a pale complexion and hadn’t shaved in a few days. Too much artificial light had given him a wan look. However, leaving the confines of the apartment was out of the question.

It was almost noon, and Magic would be visiting soon anyway. Pharaoh continued to look through the scope and watched Aleksandr answer his front door. Flutura entered the apartment and hugged Aleksandr. Even though she had weathered hardship and gotten older, she still looked beautiful. She’d kept her hair long, down to her waist, but it never seemed to tangle. Pharaoh wondered how much time she would spend on it in the morning before she left the house or whether it was impervious to the elements. He debated whether she would have sug-gested her hair was auburn or brown. She wasn’t vain, but anyone who had hair like that would take pride in it. He briefly thought of what it would be like to run his hands through that hair, then quickly admonished himself for indulging the fantasy and drove the thought from his head.

He watched them break apart and move farther into the room. Initially, Pharaoh had felt like a voyeur watching these moments, but after a while, it no longer fazed him. It had been almost a year since Pharaoh had invoked the blood feud of the tradition of Kanun, and now every day was the same. He’d gotten used to it, and he no longer felt odd watching these intimate mo-ments between siblings.