The Reckoning had passed, but the loss of life and destruction left in its wake defied imagination. Not in JT Clarke's wildest dreams could he have foreseen the speed at which society consumed itself. The little village of Somerset, once a quaint rural community, lay in utter ruins, uninhabitable after the final thread of morality wore thin and snapped.

JT's home, the ranch, was spared the worst when the village collapsed simply because of geography. Six miles north had been just enough distance to insulate the group from the tentacles of disaster the night of the ice storm. Yet, the group had suffered in ways just as harrowing. JT himself had been shot by a ragtag mix of men put together by a crazed neighbor holding a grudge. Had it not been for D'Vante’s blood, along with Joni and Sarah’s skilled hands, he would have died.

D'Vante's death shattered the group's spirit like a freight train derailment, and it took everything JT had in him to send D'Vante off on his last flight—its destination—Valhalla. That night, the group saw a side of JT they never knew existed. Out of pure rage, he had lashed out viciously in unrelenting vengeance against D’s killers.

Each new day in their discombobulated world brought challenges and tribulations from every angle. At times, they seemed insurmountable, yet JT Clarke and the group centered around the ranch found ways to cope with the reality of what their world had become.

Now, as they settled in for the long haul and the unpredictability of northern Wisconsin in late October, a burning question lingered in their minds.

Could it possibly get any worse?