Edge of Survival Box Set 1

by William Oday

  “I hope you’re both using protection.”

  Iridia grimaced and Miro looked away in horror.

  Score one for Parenting 101!

  Though Iridia wasn’t her daughter, Beth couldn’t have felt more parental joy at their uncomfortable response. “I’m just saying be smart about it.”

  Miro stared at the floor. “Uhh, okay. Well, we should get going.” He pecked Iridia’s cheek and then headed for the front door.

  Beth followed in silent glee. This was usually the kind of thing Mason would do. The kind of thing he would get joy from. Now, she understood why.

  Iridia stood at the open door as they descended the steps to the street below. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We can’t get pregnant doing what we’re doing.”

  Beth stumbled a step and nearly dumped the casserole. Was she saying they only did heavy petting? Oral? Anal? She stared up in shock, not knowing how to respond.

  Iridia smiled wide. “I don’t want you to worry,” she said before closing and locking the door.

  “Uhh, we don’t do that,” Miro said. “I mean, we do, but, we also, I mean—”

  “Ugh! Enough already,” Beth said trying to cleanse her mind of the various thought pictures attempting to dirty it. “Let’s go. This is getting cold.”

  They made it to Maria’s place in record time as neither spoke an additional word the entire way over.

  Miro’s phone buzzed with a text as they walked up the steps to her apartment building. The screen lit his face in the surrounding dark as he read it. His lower lip tucked in and he chewed as he read. He typed something back and then clicked it off.

  “What’s up?” Beth asked.

  “Mason needs me back ASAP. Can you stay here until I return to walk you home?”

  “Sure. Tell Mason to get in touch when he can.”

  “Will do,” Miro said as he leapt down the stairs and broke into a jog.

  Beth buzzed Maria’s apartment and was up at her door a few minutes later. Theresa opened the door. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Her nose red from wiping.

  “Mom,” she said in a whisper.

  “I know, honey.”

  She fell into Beth’s arms and Beth did her best to both comfort her daughter and also not drop the casserole.

  “How’s Maria?” she whispered in her daughter’s ear.

  A pained voice answered from inside. “How do you think I am?”

  Beth guided Theresa inside and then set the casserole on the kitchen counter. She was not about to tangle with Maria, no matter how much the woman baited the invitation. “I think you need to eat and I’ve brought chicken casserole.”

  Maria rose from the couch in the living room and stepped into the kitchen. She looked worse off than Theresa. “How can I eat? How can I do anything when my sweet boy is… only God knows where?”

  It was a question that sounded a lot like an accusation.

  “I know you’re upset, Maria. I—”

  “Don’t, Elizabeth! You don’t understand my pain. You have your husband. You have your daughter.”

  Beth began to dish out portions onto plates she found in the cabinet.

  “I’ve lost everything. And it’s all because of your husband!”

  Fire sparked in Beth’s belly. An urge to defend Mason rose through her chest and nearly made it out of her mouth before she managed to choke it back down. “I’m sorry Elio is being blamed for this. I know Mason is doing everything he can for him.”

  She placed a napkin and a fork on the plate and then held it in front of Maria as a peace offering.

  The plate lingered in the air, neither advancing nor retreating.

  Theresa grabbed it. “Maria, we should eat. Starving ourselves won’t help him. We have to be strong to get him back.”

  Maria considered and then accepted the next plate offered. She retreated to the couch and sat down. She shoveled a forkful of casserole into her mouth. “Did you forget the salt?”

  The next couple of hours were filled with the kind of stilted, stuttered conversation that made Beth want to strangle herself.

  And then set herself on fire.

  And then bury herself.

  Bury herself in a deep, dark, quiet hole where no one could come to claw at her sanity as Maria had for the last eon of minutes. She glanced at the clock on the living room wall. Miro should’ve been back by now. She needed to go home.

  Go anywhere.

  Mostly, she just needed to leave.

  Both to escape this torture and also because she didn’t completely trust Iridia to be the one in charge at home.

  So what if it was after curfew?

  She’d rather spend the rest of the night in jail than spend another minute deflecting Maria’s jabs. Another minute and she was going to break down and start punching back.

  Beth stood up. “Well, we should go.”

  “I’m staying,” Theresa said. “If that’s okay, Maria?”

  Elio’s mother nodded. “You are such a comfort, my dear. I don’t know how you can come from your family.”

  “I don’t want her to be alone tonight,” Theresa said.

  Beth nodded. Theresa was the closest thing that Maria had to family right now. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  “Shouldn’t you wait for Miro?” she asked.

  “Doesn’t look like he’s coming back tonight.” And there was no chance Beth was spending the night. She gathered her things and said her goodbyes.

  Theresa stared at her with worried eyes.

  Beth kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

  27

  With electricity still a scarce resource, most of the Green Zone was sparsely illuminated by working streetlights. Add to, or rather subtract from, that the fact that most people were so worried about not exceeding their weekly power allotment that few people left outside lights on at night. The result was a city that had returned to the primordial darkness from which it had sprung. Couple that with the absence of people due to the curfew and Beth logically understood why she was feeling creeped out.

  But understanding it didn’t make it go away.

  Humans had learned through centuries of merciless predation that danger lurked in the darkness.

  The absence of light accentuated a human’s deficiencies relative to other apex predators. And it did so not in abstract, dialectic terms that philosophers might argue ad nauseam until one side or the other finally decided to end the impasse by gulping down a cup of hemlock.

  No, the lessons learned in the darkness were of a more vital, visceral nature.

  A defenseless child dragged by the neck off into the high weeds.

  A big splash at the river’s edge followed by a scream cut short.

  Those were the experiences ingrained into the human subconscious. Those were the horrors wired into the amygdala and other primitive parts of the brain.

  And so it was an expected reaction when odd noises drifting out of the surrounding darkness made the hairs on the back of Beth’s neck stand on end.

  She stopped walking and took a deep breath to slow her heart. She turned her head back and forth trying to locate the source of the sound.

  A scuffling.

  A raccoon getting into someone’s trash?

  Of trash blowing around in an eddy of wind?

  She looked down an alley between two multi-story houses and couldn’t make out anything more than vague outlines and soft edges that disappeared when she focused on them. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew the end of the alley ended at the perimeter fence. She wasn’t far from where she regularly met up to feed and water Buddy.

  She was tempted to go to the spot and check but it wasn’t likely he’d be out at this hour.

  CLANG.

  A jolt of adrenaline shocked her senses.

  Her nerves screamed like she’d stuck a butter knife in a light socket. Her heart pounded in her chest and the muscles in her legs contracted ready to run for it. Her entire body balanced on
the edge of a decision yet to be made.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have left Maria’s apartment without an escort.

  She needed a light. She dug through her jacket pocket and fished out the mobile phone. She turned it on swiping around the screen searching for how to turn on the LED flash.

  Did it have a flash?

  Maybe it wasn’t that fancy. She turned it over feeling as much as looking on the backside for where the camera and flash might be. A blinding white light blasted into her eyes making her squeeze them shut and turn away.

  She’d found it.

  And half-blinded herself in the process.

  Beth turned the phone away and aimed it down the alley.

  A black cat leapt out of the darkness, arrowing right at her. The phone clattered to the ground as she reflexively dropped it to block the incoming missile of claws and fur. The cat landed on her arm and tried to burrow into her jacket. Its dagger-like claws needled through the thick jacket and pricked her skin.

  It glanced up and hissed at her.

  “Easy. I’m not the one who jumped into your arms.”

  She slowly moved a hand up to stroke its back, to calm it.

  The cat whirled around and lashed a paw at her, slicing her fingers where the claws dragged over the skin.

  “Ow!”

  The cat leapt out of her arms and raced away.

  Beth rubbed at the lines of red on her fingers. She watched the little black silhouette retreat down the street. “You’re the reason people don’t like cats!”

  The adrenaline spike flooding through her system crashed leaving her winded and tired. As annoyed as she was, she couldn’t blame the creature for its behavior. It had probably been a well loved and looked after house cat two months ago. And whereas its owners had probably died in the aftermath of the outbreak, it had the dubious fortune to survive.

  She couldn’t blame it.

  There were days Beth felt like scratching people’s faces off, too.

  Not surprisingly, the phone crashing to the ground had shut off the LED light. It was probably broken. She scanned the ground at her feet and didn’t see it. Even if it took a big bounce, it couldn’t have gone far. She looked around to the sides and behind and still didn’t see it.

  It must’ve bounced into the alley. Deeper into the darkness.

  Great.

  She entered the alley sweeping her foot back and forth like a primitive metal detector hoping it would bump into pay dirt. Her foot kicked something and it skittered to the side.

  If it wasn’t broken already, her bumbling attempts to retrieve it would likely finish the job. She crouched down sweeping her hand over the pavement in the direction that she thought the phone had slid. Her fingers bumped into and then wrapped around a slim rectangle shape that had to be it.

  CLANG.

  She froze.

  Unless she was experiencing some kind of auditory déjà vu, there was still something in the alley. The drowsy drop of coming down was drowned by another wave of chemicals flooding through her nervous system. She picked up the phone and hurried to turn the flash back on.

  There were two problems.

  One was that she couldn’t find the right screen. And two was that the drop had probably broken it anyway.

  CLANG.

  Like a metal trashcan, maybe.

  Her fingers shook as the adrenaline burning through her body made holding the phone a challenge, much less doing anything coordinated with it.

  Something moved nearby and, although she couldn’t see anything, she sensed she was not alone.

  She reached for the Glock holstered at her hip and, of course, realized in horror that it wasn’t there as she’d overruled Mason’s expressed wishes of carrying it every day.

  It seemed too barbaric.

  Not the kind of world she wanted to live in.

  And besides, they were in the Green Zone. That was the whole point of the Green Zone. It was a place where you didn’t have to feel like you were living in the ancient days before the security of community.

  Far too late to make a difference, Beth realized her mistake. She’d been grasping for the comforting memory of saner days, imposing the reality she desired on the one that no longer existed.

  In a panic, she found the right app and the LED flashed on.

  She looked up and screamed as a humanoid figure leapt into the bright halo of illumination and bowled her over backwards.

  Her head snapped back and smacked the pavement. Blinking stars swam through her vision. Her head hummed with pain.

  The delta drove her to the ground and landed on her chest. His matted hair hung down framing an angular face. The stench rolling off him made her eyes water and her breath gag in her throat.

  She drove a knee upward and caught him in the belly. The shot loosened his grip on her shoulders. She twisted to the side and rolled free. She turned to face him and he’d already recovered.

  He crouched on all fours with muscled, wiry limbs tense and ready to attack.

  She’d caught him by surprise. She’d gotten lucky. But luck wasn’t a dependable ally when your life was on the line.

  He uncoiled like a spring and leapt at her in a flash.

  Beth fell back clawing and scratching as they both tumbled to the pavement.

  Something streaked through the air and smashed into the delta’s side. The impact pushed it off of her.

  She rolled away and got to her knees.

  A blur of growling fur had the delta’s leg in its jaws. It shook its head and shredded skin with a primal strength and fury.

  The delta howled in pain.

  Beth found her phone and angled the light to better see the ongoing fight. It was a dog!

  It was Buddy!

  He must’ve gotten through the same way the delta did.

  The delta sat up and punched at Buddy’s head to get him to let go.

  Beth needed a weapon.

  She shined the light around and saw a round trashcan lid a little ways into the alley. She sprinted over and grabbed it and then came back to tilt the scales.

  The delta’s hands were wrapped around Buddy’s throat choking him. Buddy fought on but was weakening.

  Beth held the trashcan lid like a frisbee and swung it with all her might.

  BRANG.

  It hit the delta’s head sending it sprawling backwards.

  The staccato slap of bare feet slapping pavement made her turn around and flash the light down the alley.

  Three more deltas ran at them at top speed.

  “Come on!” she yelled at the dog.

  Buddy growled at the delta with his lips curled back and teeth displayed.

  The delta pushed up on his elbows and screamed. The others running down the alley yelled back in return.

  Time to go.

  Beth dropped the trashcan lid and ran. “Come on!”

  Buddy had no problem trotting along with her running as fast as she could. At the end of the next block, she saw wavering lights around the street corner. She skidded to a stop, breathing hard while Buddy looked at her with concern.

  A security patrol.

  Thank goodness!

  Chief Fowler marched at the head of the patrol.

  Ugh. Beth was in no mood to deal with him.

  A dozen flashlights clicked on and shined in her face.

  “You there! Don’t move!” the Chief shouted.

  Beth covered her face to block the light and waited.

  “Beth? What are you doing out after curfew?” the Chief said.

  Buddy sidled up to Beth facing the Chief. A low rumble echoed from deep in his throat.

  Fowler’s hand went to the pistol at his hip.

  “No!” Beth shouted as she stepped between them.

  “Is that your dog?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’d better get a leash on it.”

  “Chief, there are deltas in the Green Zone.” She pointed back down the street. “Four, I think. One attacked me, but I go
t away.”

  Chief Fowler wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “You must be terrified. I’ll stay with you. And please, call me Shane.”

  In no known universe was she going to call him Shane.

  His body pressed into hers.

  Disgusting.

  She tried to pull away but his embrace didn’t loosen.

  “Chief! I’ll be fine.” She shoved away and he let go this time. She caught a hard glint in his eye that passed quickly. “They could still be running loose!”

  “Yes, of course.” He grabbed her chin and jiggled it. “Don’t you worry your beautiful little head. Chief Fowler will take care of it.”

  She slapped his hand away. What an inappropriate schmuck.

  His lips twitched and snarled at her. “I should arrest you. Let you sit in jail for a few days and maybe you’ll learn some manners.”

  That was last thing she needed.

  “Sorry. I’m shook up from what happened.”

  He glanced away and considered. “Take your dog and go home. Chief Fowler will go easy on you this once.” He looked back at her and then darted a hand around the back of her neck. His strength held her in place. He pulled her close and whispered so the others couldn’t hear.

  “You owe me.”

  28

  MASON stood in front of the President’s desk watching his boss’ mouth move and filing the words in a mental folder so he could review them later. For now, the thing that struck him was how cool the President was taking the attempt on his life. The attempt that had killed the Vice-President and nearly done the same to him.

  It took serious swagger and a large measure of intestinal fortitude to look death in the face and casually brush it off like an annoying gnat.

  Aside from a long scratch on his left cheek, the President had lucked out. He happened to be outside the kill zone when the bomb blew. Fine margins sometimes dictated the difference between life and death.

  Mason’s time in the sandbox had taught him that as much as anything. As a squad leader, he always did everything in his power to keep his men safe. And yet, no amount of diligence or vigilance guaranteed their lives.

  Life in the real world didn’t line up like columns and rows on a spreadsheet. You couldn’t always give the right answer because you didn’t always know the right question. And even if you knew the right question, there wasn’t always a good answer. One step to the left and you’d be dead instead of the man at your shoulder.