Crimson Rage: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Thriller (Crimson Rage Series Book 1)
Page 4
Jane had closed her eyes and was just on the verge of dozing off when she saw Donna walking towards the entrance, prompting her back to wakefulness. “Where are you going?” she called after her.
Donna looked down at the floor as she walked over to Jane, like a child who had been caught red-handed by her parents. “Just taking a look outside.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go too far. The view’s a killer.”
Feeling the need to change the subject, Donna asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Apart from feeling like a human pin cushion?” asked Jane, grateful her sense of humor was still intact, if leaning towards the morbid site. “I’m on top of the world.”
“Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Donna.
“Not unless you are going to tell me you can regrow eyes,” muttered Jane, pulling herself up. “Why, do you feel like you need to be doing something?”
“Well…” Donna glanced around at Eric, who was lost in the recordings. “I don’t want to end up being like the third wheel dragging everyone down.”
“You won’t be,” said Jane firmly. She softened slightly. “No one expects you to know everything. Sit down and chat.” She patted the ground beside her. “Tell me about what you do.”
“I was a copywriter,” said Donna. “Not exactly the most useful occupation for what’s happening right now,” she added.
“I’ve been a cop for more than fifteen years. I’ve seen people who could barely pass as human and I’ve been in situations where life or death was a frequent dilemma. And I’m telling you, nothing I’ve done or seen in those last fifteen years could have prepared me for today. The whole situation is a mess and we’re just trying to get through it.”
“I just want to do something useful.”
“You are. You’re surviving. You want to think about being a pillar of society, save it for when we know we’ve got a future to look forward to. For now, you’re surviving. And that’s the most important thing you can do for anyone. So don’t think that running off on your own is doing us a favor. There’s strength in numbers.”
Donna was a little taken aback by Jane’s accurate deduction about her attempted lone wolf act.
Jane’s radio crackled, then slowly, a voice filtered through. “This is a distress signal. Can anyone hear me?”
New energy flowing through her, Jane gripped the radio as though it were a lifeline and spoke into it. “This is officer Jane Benson. Please respond. Over.”
“We are setting up sanctuaries for anyone who has managed to survive the sandstorm. Locations are as follows…”
*
Donna, Eric and Jane traipsed over the sandy ground which seemed to have risen since they had last ventured outside. All of them tried to avoid directly looking at the corpses in the street.
There was a base, overseen by military personnel, offering refuge and guidance to all survivors.
It had taken a while for the group to find the courage to emerge from the shelter. Eric and Donna had been equally hesitant about heading back out there. “How do I know the second I step outside; I’m not going to be the target for a shooting range?” asked Eric.
“Honestly, you don’t,” replied Jane bluntly. “But try setting up home in this place without food or drink and see how long you last. At least out there, we have a chance of finding a proper shelter and some supplies so we have a better chance of surviving. If that means I have to walk through hell to get there, I’m game.”
“I agree,” chipped in Donna, although she did leave out the fact that she was mildly ambivalent when it came to dying.
“Then we go.”
It would be the longest walk Jane, Eric and Donna would ever take, with Jane constantly looking up to the buildings for any signs of movement. But as they walked through the sand-covered city, their fears slowly subsided.
Jane knew she should have felt relief that there was a professional authority still in place. However, this was the type of event that could easily cause panic. Despite being told they would receive all information relating to the storm, Jane suspected that the powers that be were most likely making it up as they went along. No guidelines would ever have been drafted for anything like this. She wanted to believe it would all work out. That everyone had their best interests at heart. But even with a drastically reduced population, there would always be the opportunity for ego clashes, conflict and extortion.
Eric tried to resist the temptation to film the world around him, reminding himself that the camera was the most valuable thing he had to offer anyone. Without it, his own value went down considerably. He intended to expand on the footage he had already captured. Perhaps if he managed to obtain some kind of protective lens or casing?
Donna’s mouth was dry. She needed her medication. Though she appreciated Jane’s words, she was all too aware of the complications her bipolar could bring moving forward. There was no room for disorder in a world struggling to craft something resembling order again. Until she could get her hands on her meds, she’d try to bury her feelings deep.
Donna looked up at the sky, wondering if she would ever see the beautiful blue sky and the sun shining down on her again or if from now on, everyone would be forced to live under the mercy of a crimson haze.
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Other books by Sam Fires
MAYHEM & MADNESS
Bad Boys Make Broken Men (The Prequel) - free story
Book 1 Burning Rains
Book 2 Holy Hell
Book 3 Girl in the Sewer
Book 4 We, The President
SCAVENGERS
Book 1 Dog Meat
Book 2 Shark Tactics
Book 3 Sharks’ Fury
About the author
Sam Fires is a poet, writer and best-selling author of his debut novel ‘Dog Meat’, the first gripping book in the trilogy series ‘Scavengers’.
When he isn’t exercising his imagination for ingenious ideas for his next book, Sam can usually be found in his local coffee shop, sipping his oat milk cortado and voraciously reading books, usually in the post-apocalyptic/dystopian genre but also psychological thrillers.
Being a published author was always Sam’s dream, and finally with his three-part series ‘Scavengers’, this has become a reality.
When he doesn’t have his head buried in a book, Sam loves cooking Indian food and enjoys driving his beautiful, bashed-up classic Citroen and of course spending too much time on his computer.
If you want to contact Sam please do so, he would love to hear from you! hello@samjfires.com
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