Survivalist Reality Show: The Complete Series

by Grace Hamilton

  “Cool,” Regan replied, not sure what else to say.

  He chuckled. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “I gave you my life story. Tell me yours.”

  She heaved a sigh, but realized she couldn’t argue with his logic. “It isn’t nearly as awesome. My mom was fifteen when she got pregnant with me. Her family was poor and couldn’t help her much. She was going to school when she had me. Or, at least she tried. She dropped out so she could work. We lived in a studio apartment that should have been condemned. I didn’t blame her for how poor we were. I knew she tried.”

  “Where is she now?” Wolf asked.

  Regan shook her head, wishing she hadn’t let him draw her into all this. “Dead,” she answered simply.

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  Regan shrugged off the pity in his voice. “It was a long time ago. I’d been pulled out of her custody and put into foster. She was hit by a car walking home from work one night.”

  “Why were you put into foster care?” Wolf asked.

  Regan looked around and noticed they had separated themselves from the other three in the group. That had turned into a habit with them, she realized.

  “It’s a long story, but basically, I got hurt. She took me to the hospital and the nurses started asking questions. We were homeless at the time, and food wasn’t always a guarantee. They said I was malnourished and not being properly cared for. My mom was crying when they dragged me away from her. It’s the last time I saw her,” she explained quietly.

  Thinking of the scene hurt. She never talked about that moment. It stirred up memories she’d rather forget.

  “I’m sorry, truly, I am,” Wolf said.

  He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she cringed, not wanting the sympathy. He seemed to understand and pulled his hand away. Thankfully, he didn’t ask any more questions. They rejoined their group, which had been partially swallowed up by the crowd of people flooding the streets of the city, all of them apparently hoping to scavenge for food. Everywhere she looked, Regan could see people. This was the urban environment she was used to. It was easy to blend in and move like a ghost in and out of the various groups of people.

  She separated from the others and blended in with the crowd, her ears open, listening for any clues about where they might find food or medicine. Her recon mission paid off even more quickly than she might have expected. She casually slowed her pace and fell back in with her own group.

  “There’s a hotel that’s actually open. They have water, but no food,” she whispered to Wolf.

  Tabitha overheard. “What? How is that possible?”

  “Bartering. Someone figured out money isn’t what makes the world go around anymore.”

  Wolf nodded and caught Tabitha’s eyes. “I doubt the hospitals are open at this point, based on what we’re hearing and seeing. Let’s get over to this hotel Regan heard about and see if we can rent a room. I think, with our stash of supplies, we have a shot. We’ll let Geno rest while we scout around for food and medicine. We can’t try to get to the island until late tonight anyway. We need the cover of darkness.”

  It didn’t take them long to find the hotel. There were armed guards patrolling the front door area. It was one of the nicer hotels in the city, but the folks who had taken over were definitely not the original owners or managers. They were gang members, and it was obvious from the ink scrawled on their arms and necks. They weren’t hiding their weaponry, either, which looked pretty serious.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” Fred hissed.

  Geno bent over suddenly, coughing with such ferociousness that people took several steps away from them, not wanting to catch what he had.

  “He has to rest,” Tabitha growled. “He needs a dry bed and a place to sleep. He is never going to get better if he doesn’t get some real sleep.”

  “I agree,” Wolf answered. “We can’t do much today, and holing up here is our best option.”

  Wolf and Regan walked up to the nearest armed guard while the others stayed back. It took a little negotiation and a peek inside Regan’s backpack to convince him to let them inside to talk with the so-called manager. After several minutes of haggling inside, Wolf gave up one of their first aid kits and some matches they had scavenged in order to secure a single room and two gallons of potable water for a two-night stay, which none of them were hoping they would need. They were given a key card also, which Wolf questioned.

  “It works,” the manager assured them with a smile filled with gold teeth. “The door lock batteries only need charging every few months, and the concrete walls protected ‘em. They’re good.”

  Regan wasn’t so sure, but figured this was their best chance at getting Geno a bed.

  “Our friends,” Wolf said to the guard at the door. The guard checked with the manager then, who nodded his head, giving permission for the other three to enter the grand hotel lobby. Tabitha had already packed up the ‘babies’ in the remaining backpacks and abandoned the stroller. It would be too cumbersome on the city streets, Regan had insisted, and a pain to get upstairs. They had to be able to dodge and weave in and out of crowds, which wasn’t possible with the stroller.

  It was a little strange to be in such opulent settings after spending so much time in the wild. The chaos beyond the glass doors of the hotel stood in stark contrast to the environment inside. The heat was nearly unbearable. The gang had apparently opened up windows and propped open as many doors as possible, but the lack of air conditioning and the Florida heat meant that the air was stifling. Adding to the reminder of the electricity outage, there was still a strong odor of human waste and rotting food, which was only somewhat subdued beyond the hotel walls.

  Wolf and Fred helped Geno as they climbed the eight flights of stairs to their room. The doors to the stairwell had been propped open, and occasional windows let in air, but the climb was made worse by the heat and the dark conditions. A skylight far above gave some light, but not enough for comfort. They stopped several times along the way to give Geno a chance to catch his breath, and passed a few people who were renting rooms, but the majority of the renters appeared to be members of whatever gang was controlling the hotel.

  “I can’t believe we’re sharing space with violent gang members,” Tabitha hissed when a particularly rowdy group of young men pushed by them on the stairway.

  “It should be safer for us. If they are violent, people are going to stay away. You saw the guards out front,” Fred pointed out.

  “And who’s to say they won’t turn on us and decide they’ll shoot us and take what we have?” Tabitha growled back at him.

  “There’s no guarantees. You wanted a safe place for Geno to rest. This is the best we’re going to find. We have the gun,” Wolf whispered. “We can defend ourselves if necessary.”

  Fred chuckled. “They have far more fire power than we do. You may take out one or two, but there are plenty more of them.”

  Regan glared at Fred. Wolf was trying to reassure Tabitha and he was being a little too realistic. Fred shrugged a shoulder.

  “This is our floor. Let’s hope this room key actually works,” Wolf said.

  “The locks are backed up by battery. Unless the maintenance in the hotel was seriously lacking, the key should work for a while, probably months. How do we know which room this goes to?”

  Wolf held up the key card. The room number was written in big, black marker on the card.

  “Did they try every door?” Fred asked in surprised. “Those men are quite brilliant.”

  Wolf guffawed. “I think it’s more likely they strong-armed whoever the occupant of this room was. The keys would still work if the cards were never deactivated.”

  Regan’s eyes widened. “What if there’s a dead body in here?”

  They all paused, but Wolf stuck the key in the lock anyway. “If there is, we put the person outside the room. I think we’d smell the stench of a three-week old body from here.”


  “What if they only recently killed the person?” Fred asked.

  “Can we look inside before we start worrying about something that hasn’t happened?” Wolf returned with not a little frustration.

  With that, he turned the handle when the door light went green, and pushed the door open a couple inches. No one screamed, and they didn’t smell death, although there was a strong smell of mold.

  Wolf pushed the door open and stepped inside. The rest of them waited in the hall, Fred’s foot holding the door open.

  “Anything?” Regan called out, anxious to know what he’d found.

  “It’s clear. Housekeeping is lacking, but this will do.”

  They went inside and discovered two unmade beds along with a tray filled with wrappers from candy bars and chips. Someone had been there for a short time after the EMP and lived off the vending machine food.

  Tabitha went to the first bed, pulled the blanket over the sheets, and gently pushed Geno down. He rolled to his side and looked around the room as she took a seat beside him.

  “They stole the TV,” Fred said in awe. “Why would they steal the TV?” he asked as he took a seat on the bed opposite Tabitha and Geno.

  Wolf shrugged. “I guess they’re assuming the power will be back soon and they can sell it then.”

  “What did it cost to rent this room?” Tabitha asked.

  Rather than answering right away, Wolf peeked into the bathroom, shut the door with a grimace, and then walked over to open up the door onto a balcony so that they’d have some fresh air. When he took a seat at the room’s desk, Tabitha repeated her question and he finally answered, “One of the first aid kits and a few other things.”

  “What? You gave away a first aid kit?” she asked angrily.

  “I have plenty of supplies on the island,” Wolf reminded her. “It was more important to get Geno somewhere he could rest. We can get to the island tomorrow. I have medicine we can use to help him.”

  Tabitha took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. Okay.”

  Through the conversation, Regan had done nothing more than move to the window. Now, she turned and looked around at her exhausted companions. “I’ll go out and see what I can find,” Regan offered.

  “You can’t go out alone,” Wolf jumped in.

  “I can,” she insisted. “It’s better if I do. I know who to talk to and how to tap into the street network. You’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

  “It isn’t safe for you to be out there alone,” he argued.

  She rolled her eyes. “I’ve been alone most of my life. It’s plenty safe. Taking you with me is far more dangerous. I’ll be back later. If I don’t come back… well, go on without me.”

  “No!” Wolf near shouted.

  Everyone froze and looked at him.

  Regan raised an eyebrow.

  He pursed his lips, looking around at the group before meeting her eyes once again. “It isn’t safe out there. Look where we are. We’re in the middle of a gang’s headquarters. Do you think you can make it out there on your own?” he asked.

  “Actually, I do. I’ve been making it out there on my own for a very long time, Wolf.”

  Going over to the packs, she slid a few things into her pockets, choosing not to take a backpack.

  “Why?” Tabitha asked.

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you going out there?”

  “Are you kidding? I told you. I’m going to see if I can find him some medicine, or get us something to eat.”

  Tabitha shook her head. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  Regan laughed at the seriousness in Tabitha’s expression. “I’m not going to get myself killed for him. Trust me.”

  That made Tabitha smile. She stood up and gave Regan a quick hug before returning to her husband.

  “Be careful,” Wolf said to Regan’s back.

  Regan waved in response, too excited about some time by herself to waver. The moment the door closed behind her, she felt free. Traveling with this group over the past week had been taxing. While she’d accepted she needed the protection and strength they offered, she was in her comfort zone now.

  She walked down the eight flights of stairs and found the manager they’d spoken to before.

  “Hi,” she said with a flirty smile. “I need a hook-up.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He leaned over the counter toward her. “What kind of hook-up you need, girl?”

  Regan had long been accustomed to using her looks to persuade men and sometimes women to give her what she wanted. She wasn’t classically pretty like Tabitha maybe, but she could play up her looks when needed.

  “I need meds. Where can a girl find something like that?” she asked, throwing a hip out and leaning forward across the counter.

  The guy smiled. “Information costs.”

  “What does it cost?” Regan asked in a breathy voice.

  He cocked his head at her, apparently impressed with her confidence, and she smiled in return. “For you, because I like you, I’ll tell you. There’s an old medical warehouse about four blocks down. You might find something there. When you come back, I’ll take my fee out of whatever you find.”

  Regan shrugged. “Fine, assuming I find anything.”

  He looked her up and down. “A girl like you is always going to find something. You’re not like your friends. You’re a street kid.”

  She smiled. “Street woman.”

  The guy chuckled as Regan walked away, heading by the guards with barely a glance. She knew it was risky to be going out alone, but guys tended to let their guard down when it was only one female.

  It didn’t take her long to figure out the lay of the land, so to speak. The folks who were used to living on the streets were the kings now. There had been a major shift in the hierarchy of the population—those who’d been rich before were struggling, and those who’d been considered street rats and thugs were reigning. Regan checked the information the gang leader had given her and felt relieved to learn it was credible, thinking that maybe this could be a quick and worthwhile trip. She made her way toward the warehouse, hoping to score something good.

  The city was operating like one big black market. There was definitely food and other supplies to be had, if you had the right bartering tool. Personally, she was hoping to find medicine for Geno and any prescription painkillers, which would be extremely valuable. Addicts didn’t lose their cravings for opioids simply because the apocalypse came around. They’d be willing to do about anything for a fix. That could be used to her advantage later on. It was shady, but it was how one survived.

  17

  The medical warehouse had most definitely been hit. And as with other high-value places, there were guards patrolling the area.

  “This is ours,” one of the guards said when she approached.

  She looked him over, noticing the Kevlar vest he was wearing and assuming he had to have taken it off a cop or military personnel. It meant he was serious.

  “Is there anything left?” she asked. “I need some antibiotics.”

  The man sneered. “You show up here empty-handed and expect to buy our drugs. You’re out of your damn mind. Get lost.”

  “Are you saying you have them?” she pressed.

  The other man came to stand in front of her. “Maybe we do. What are you willing to trade?”

  He looked her up and down, and she knew exactly what the man was hinting at. She wasn’t that desperate.

  “I have a few things,” she said pointedly. “What’s the cost?” she added, reminding herself to stay calm. So what if it had been a while since she’d been on the street? She wasn’t any more vulnerable now than she’d been as a teen.

  But, at the same time… she knew she was essentially alone. The difference between now and her time on the street in the past was suddenly clear to her—in the past, cops and the law would have been a worry on some level, as law and order had mostly prevailed. If you knew how to navigate the streets, you could fend for
yourself. Now, things were different. Apocalyptic mindsets and attitudes meant that street logic had changed, as there really wasn’t much of a law to be worried about. And here she was now, coming up on two armed guards alone.

  So far, they’d done a good job of scaring everyone off. If they decided to rape her, it wasn’t like she could scream for help and expect anyone to show up. The first guard stepped forward.

  “You’re the cost, babe,” he answered.

  “Yeah, well, that isn’t going to happen,” she replied, feigning nonchalance.

  “You don’t look sick,” the other guard said, looking at her a little too closely.

  “They’re for my husband,” she hissed.

  The first guard made a snorting sound. “What kind of man sends his wife into these streets to get him medicine? You’re better off with us.”

  “Whatever. I’ll find what I need somewhere else.”

  Leaving them with a glare, she took a few steps backwards before turning around and walking down a side street. She was trying to play it cool, but her heart was pounding in her chest. That had been a close one. Sure enough, things had changed, and this wasn’t the same world they’d left behind a few weeks before. Even the streets were more aggressive.

  Regan had been told there was an area near the warehouse that had been all medical offices, and hoped it might prove more useful. There were various clinics to be sought out, and a chance she would find something there. She wasn’t holding out a lot of hope, but she had to check.

  She found an OB/GYN clinic and scouted around the outside before quietly going through the back door. Clearly, the place had been ransacked more than once. Medical supplies, food, and water were far more valuable than money now. When the lights had gone out, the expensive electronics and other valuable items had been looted right away, along with the items she’d actually been seeking for herself and Geno.

  Regan knew it would have taken time for people to go after random medicine, but that point had come and gone. When it had become apparent the outage wasn’t a temporary situation, the focus of looters had shifted. The medicine had been stolen then—not because people needed it immediately, but instead with the sole purpose of reselling it at a much higher price. The people who had the medicine were going to be the new world’s version of wealthy.