Surviving The End (Book 3): New World

by Hamilton, Grace

  “I’m not being temperamental,” Ryan said, stroking his wild beard with both hands. “I fully intended to have a civilized discussion. It bothers me when I’m being lied to right in my face. Everyone can see it, Blevins.”

  He stepped around Zoe and closed the distance between himself and Beth. His stench was overpowering, but more than that, the pain high in Beth’s stomach was becoming sharp. But it wasn’t her stomach. She knew that. Ryan didn’t seem to notice, as he kept right on ranting.

  “If it weren’t a lie, you would gladly invite people into your home to see your collection of cans,” he said. “If you didn’t have anything to hide, you wouldn’t be opposed to the mayor’s idea of a fair redistribution. You’ve got a big family. If you’re not hiding food then you’d be ready and willing to participate. It can’t be easy to supply enough food for all of those people, but you seem to be doing just fine. Isn’t that curious?”

  Through rising pain, Beth saw nodding, hostile faces. She grabbed her chest, struggling to maintain her balance. The pain had never been this bad. Fortunately, Zoe seemed to notice, and she thrust an arm in front of Ryan.

  “Leave her alone,” she said, sharply. “Can’t you see she’s hurting? You’re a bully. Back off!”

  Beth was bent over now, eyes squeezed shut. The pain was intense, a sharp, throbbing sensation moving through her whole body. She heard Violet saying something, but she couldn’t pay attention. The pain had consumed everything. Someone put an arm around her shoulders and began guiding her across the park.

  “Help me,” Zoe said to someone. “Come over here and help me!”

  A second arm wrapped around her torso.

  “Where are we going?” Marna’s voice.

  “Take her to Dr. Yates.” That was Violet. She sounded like she was crying.

  “Okay, the doctor is doing house calls,” Zoe said. “I need someone to go find him. Have him meet us at the clinic.”

  “I’ll go.” A man’s voice. She didn’t recognize it. “I think I know where he is.”

  “Hurry, please,” Zoe said. “Tell him we’re on the way to his clinic right now.”

  Somehow, Beth found herself being pushed onto the back seat of a spacious sedan. She felt the rumble of the engine rising up through the seat. The pain was intense enough that she couldn’t even sit up.

  “Hang in there, Ms. Bevin.” That was Zoe.

  Am I dying? she wondered. Is this how it ends, lying in the back of a car like a sack of groceries?

  “You know where we’re going?” That was Marna, the woman in the homemade dress.

  “Yes, it’s a bit of a drive.” And that was Zoe, the head librarian, her big sun hat seeming to fill the top of the car.

  Beth could scarcely think through the searing pain. She tried to find a more comfortable position, but nothing helped. Finally, she grabbed the door handle and pulled herself up to the window to see where they were. She saw tents, broken-down cars, and debris littering the shoulder of a highway, but she could only hold herself there a few seconds. Biting back a cry, she slid back down onto the seat and sank into a fog of pain and uncertainty.

  I didn’t get to say goodbye to my family, she thought.

  It seemed only seconds passed before sunlight flooded into the back of the sedan, and she felt herself being dragged off the seat. The pain had become everything now, so she pressed both hands to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut.

  “We’ve got you. Relax, Ms. Blevins. We’ve got you.”

  Was it Zoe or Marna? She wasn’t sure. She felt the ground brushing against the soles of her shoes, but when she tried to walk, she only kicked back and forth. Somehow, she was still moving, the heat smothering her. Then she passed into a dim space, and she was being laid on a padded surface. Paper crinkled beneath her.

  “Roll her on her side,” one of the people said.

  “Like this?”

  “Yes, let’s see if we can find any medicine to alleviate the pain.”

  “What do you give someone for chest pain?”

  Beth opened her eyes just enough to see a baby-blue wall covered in cartoon animals. She felt around herself and felt thin, smooth paper beneath her. A doctor’s office. She knew this place. Jodi had lain on this very examination table. Finally, Beth sank into a half-conscious state, sure that this was it.

  I’m fading away, she thought. This is what it feels like to die.

  She felt strangely calm.

  The calm ended abruptly when a door flew open and banged off the wall. Suddenly, Beth felt hands grabbing her, turning her over. She felt something cold against her chest and gasped. Dr. Yates’s face swam into view.

  “Doc, am I still alive?” she said.

  “You are very much still alive,” Dr. Yates replied in that kind voice of his. “Let’s figure out what’s wrong, so we can get you back on your feet. How does that sound?”

  Just his simple encouragement gave her a burst of renewed strength. Despite the pain in her chest, she was able to sit up with some help. She heard the hiss of a blood pressure cuff, saw heavy afternoon sunlight glint off the metal edge of a stethoscope hanging around his neck. Zoe and Marna were sitting in chairs in the corner, the librarian ruthlessly chewing on her thumbnail.

  Dr. Yates wandered away and returned a moment later with a pill and a paper cup of water. Beth didn’t bother asking what the pill was. She trusted the doctor. As she drank the small cup of warm water, she thought of Ryan, his greasy beard and angry eyes. What a thoroughly unpleasant young man.

  “Wait,” she said suddenly. “Where are Violet and Ruby? Didn’t they come with us?”

  She turned toward Zoe and Marna, but the women just looked at her.

  “Violet was busy directing some of the volunteers,” Zoe said, after a moment. “I didn’t think to bring her.”

  That caused the pain to flare up again. “You left her alone in the park with that Ryan creep,” she said, groaning. “That’s not good. What will she do? How will she get away from him?”

  “My husband is at the park,” Marna said. “He’ll stick up for her. Don’t worry. We both took a shine to Violet. She’s a bright young lady.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Beth had to lie back down on the examination table, curling up on her side to diminish the discomfort. “Poor sweet child. I just left her there to worry about me. How is she going to get home?”

  “I’ll make sure she gets home,” Zoe said. “Don’t you worry about that. Let’s worry about your health right now, okay? The volunteers will be at the park for a while yet. Violet won’t be left behind. I promise.”

  “Okay,” Beth said softly, taking slow, deep breaths. “Okay, you’re right. It’s fine. Violet will be just fine. There are a lot of people around her, and plenty of them are armed and ready to protect her.”

  “That’s exactly right,” Marna said.

  Dr. Yates returned then, dragging a small stool toward the examination table. That seemed like a bad sign. He sat down, tapped a finger against his lips, as if collecting his thoughts, and spoke.

  “Without access to an ultrasound, it’s hard to say definitively,” he said, “but I think you’re suffering from an enlarged heart. I heard some arrhythmia, and the pain is accompanied by dizziness. Your symptoms seem to point in that direction.”

  Beth let the news sink in. “My family needs me, Doctor. I can’t leave them now. What do I do? Surely there’s some treatment that will help.”

  “Well, first of all, you simply must reduce your stress,” he said. “Your friends here informed me that you had some kind of altercation at a public park. You have to avoid these kinds of situations. Get more rest. Trust your loved ones to pick up the slack.”

  “That’s not going to be easy,” she said.

  “Do it anyway, ma’am,” he said. “Your health depends on it. I also want to prescribe a diuretic to lower your blood pressure. Sadly, I don’t have any in stock, so we may have to wait for our volunteer team to find some in the abandoned building
s.”

  “The local pharmacies don’t have any?” she asked. “Have they already run out? It’s only been a few weeks.”

  “The pharmacies experienced a run on most medications within days of the EMP,” he said. “What wasn’t looted was mostly moved to clinics and hospitals. There’s no real contact with the drug manufacturers. I’ve written letters, but I haven’t gotten a single response.”

  “It’s fine,” Beth said. “I have an entire library of books on herbal remedies and treatments. I’m sure I can find a natural treatment for my heart condition, and I probably have seeds for whatever plants they recommend.”

  She expected pushback from Dr. Yates on this. He’d never been particularly open to nontraditional medical treatment, but this time, he pursed his lips and nodded. “You know, I may want to take a look at some of those books. Anything you can recommend from your library that might help me treat common ailments. I may be forced to explore alternative medicine. I can’t offer sick people nothing.”

  For a second, Beth felt a swell of pride for the good doctor. Though it had taken the total destruction of the power grid, at least he had an opening mind. However, that reminded Beth that Owen had volunteered to lead a team scavenging for medical supplies. The thought of her grandson roaming the community when Pike’s gang might be on the way, when hostile people like Ryan and Nora were out there, made her heart skip a beat. She grabbed her chest and rolled onto her other side.

  “What are you thinking about?” the doctor said. “Something is stressing you out.”

  “Worried about my grandson,” she managed to say.

  “You have to stop it,” he said. “If you can’t rest and relax, you’re not going to get better.”

  “I understand, Doctor. Rest and relax. I’ll try my best.”

  But how in the world was she supposed to rest and relax when everyone and everything she cared about was in imminent danger? Dr. Yates might as well have asked her to flap her arms and fly to the moon.

  13

  All of the volunteers on Owen’s team were considerably older than him, and he knew the instant he met them that they had no respect for him. Certainly, judging by the way they looked at him, they did not see this teenage boy as the leader of the team. Gary Morde was a hugely-gutted old man with short, gray hair, a black shirt the size of a tent, and a gray beard hanging from his fleshy face. He’d brought what appeared to be a late-80s model Chevy Nova—not a particularly lovely vehicle. When Owen walked up, Gary was leaning against the hood, dabbing his forehead and cheeks with a yellowed handkerchief.

  “You’re late,” Gary said. “It’s hot. Let’s hurry up.”

  Owen had been dropped off nearby by his dad, and he approached the front of the high school now. The volunteers had agreed to meet there because it was roughly equidistant to all of their houses. David Horton had come with him, his trilby hat pulled low, shading his eyes. The other two volunteers were already sitting in the back seat of the car with the windows rolled down.

  Claire Harris was a scarecrow of a woman with stringy hair, a freckled face with nearly translucent skin, and tired eyes. Owen couldn’t tell how old she was. She could have been anywhere between forty and seventy. As Owen approached, she leaned out of the open window and stared at him with an expression that was either hostile or strangely interested. He didn’t care for either possibility.

  “This was your idea,” she said. “What took so long?”

  “I had to get a ride,” he replied, jogging toward the car.

  The final member of their volunteer team was the oldest of the bunch, a shriveled little man with a shiny bald head. He wore a long-sleeve t-shirt that was a few sizes too big for him. His skin was like loose leather. During their first encounter, he had introduced himself by a single name: Carlos.

  “Get in, muchacho,” he said. “It’s hot. Let’s get the air moving. I’m sweating like a chancho.”

  Neither Claire nor Carlos had claimed the front passenger seat, and when Owen walked around the car and opened the door, he saw why. The front floorboard was piled with trash—mostly crumpled paper cups, wrappers, and used napkins.

  “Just stomp it all down,” Gary Morde said. “I’ll get around to cleaning that out one of these days. The trunk is empty, though, so we have plenty of room for pills and such.”

  Owen did his best to make the pile of trash manageable, smashing it with his left foot until he had at least a small amount of room for his legs. Then he climbed on the seat and pulled the creaky door shut. David got into the back, though he had to stand there dumbly for a moment before Carlos scooted over to make room for him. Gary got in last, the bottom edge of the steering wheel pressing against his prodigious belly.

  “So I have a few ideas of places we could start,” Owen said, struggling to pull his seat belt.

  Gary put the Nova in drive and pulled away from the high school. “Oh, you do, do you?” he said, somewhat dismissively.

  Owen fought the urge to turn inward. Clearly, they didn’t think much of him, but he refused to fail at this. He would prove himself to these old coots, no matter how reluctantly they gave him an ounce of respect.

  “I’ll tell you where to start,” Carlos said from the back seat. “I used to work as a delivery driver at a medical supply warehouse. It’s the reason I volunteered. I know they have a ton of stuff.”

  “Now, that sounds like a great idea,” Gary said.

  “A whole warehouse?” Claire said, in a creaky little voice. “We could get everything we need in a single stop. Can you imagine? Very good, Carlos. Very good.”

  Owen sighed and leaned back in his seat. Then he thought he ought to be a team player, so he said, “Yeah, sounds good to me.”

  Everyone but David was armed. That was one of the agreed-upon conditions. Gary had a shoulder holster containing a .38, and Owen had his dad’s Glock 17. He wasn’t sure what the others had brought. He hoped they wouldn’t need to use their weapons, but Shane had warned him that medical supplies were like gold in the post-EMP world.

  “Head into Macon,” Carlos said. “I’ll show you the way. We can break in through a window in the back. Nobody will be there, I don’t think. The jefe was in Cancun when the power went out. That’s what I heard. He’s never coming back.”

  Owen wasn’t sure how he felt about the idea of raiding a medical warehouse. What if the company was still technically in existence? At what point did it become simple theft? But he had signed up for this. He kept his mouth shut as Gary took to the highway and drove into Macon. The medical warehouse proved to be a nondescript building located in an industrial park. Carlos directed them around to the back of the building, where a couple of large cargo vans sat abandoned.

  “That door by the back corner,” Carlos said, pointing. “It’ll be locked, but we can go up to that window.”

  Gary pulled the Nova in along the back of the building. Indeed, as Carlos had pointed out, there was a dumpster near the back door, and above the door, about ten feet up, was a small window, a single pane of murky glass. The dumpster would put them in reach of it.

  “Let’s do this quick,” Gary said, killing the engine and removing his ponderous self from the vehicle. “One of you go inside and unlock the door so we don’t all have to climb through.”

  Seeing a chance to prove himself, Owen said, “I’ve got it.”

  He got out of the car and approached the dumpster. Among the debris on the ground, he found a chunk of concrete. He grabbed it and clambered up on the dumpster.

  “Watch out for the glass,” David Horton said. “Sever an artery in your armpit, and you can bleed out in two minutes.”

  “Thanks for the warning,” Owen said.

  He hit the window with the chunk of concrete and was surprised when it took three solid blows to break the glass. Thanks to David’s warning, he made sure to snap every jagged piece, then he dropped the concrete and pulled himself through the open window. The inside of the warehouse was smaller than he expected, a single r
oom with about ten rows of tall shelves. Cardboard boxes were scattered on the shelves and all over the floor. Owen had a bit of a drop to the hard floor, and the slap of his shoes made a loud, almost explosive sound.

  For a brief moment, he thought he heard something moving, a skittering sound coming from somewhere deep in the room. He held his breath and waited, but he didn’t hear anything else. Rising, he went to the back door, turned the deadbolt and pushed it open. Carlos and David were just on the other side. Claire was busy unfolding a large cloth bag that she’d retrieved from the trunk, and Gary lingered near the driver’s door.

  “Okay, muchachos, let’s load up and go,” Carlos said, pushing past Owen.

  Owen followed him down the first shelf, but it didn’t take long to realize that all of the cardboard boxes were empty. Just to be sure, they went to the end of the aisle, searching every box. He found a single bottle of aspirin.

  “Looks like they’ve been looted already,” Owen said. He held up the aspirin. “This is all I got.”

  “The door was locked,” Carlos said, angrily kicking an empty box. “I bet the workers emptied the place. They didn’t even invite me. I hate those guys.”

  With a sigh, David turned and walked to the door. Claire was just entering the building, but he waved her outside.

  “Too late,” he said. “It’s empty. Nothing but this.”

  He held up the bottle of aspirin. Claire scowled at Carlos, grabbed the bottle, and shoved it in the cloth bag.

  I would have started with abandoned houses, David said. But, no, they didn’t want to hear my idea.

  “Nice going, Carlos,” Gary said sourly, when they got back outside. “Any more bright ideas?”

  Carlos sniffed and said nothing. They drove out of the parking lot in sullen silence, heading east, as if to return to their community. Owen was staring out the window when he spotted a sporting goods store in the distance. It was a small business at the corner of a strip mall.