Survive the Panic (Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book 3)

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Survive the Panic (Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book 3) Page 15

by Harley Tate


  “Is that it?”

  Leah climbed up on the bed and slipped beneath the covers. “It’s the best I can do.”

  Faith slept in the middle of the bed, exhausted and filthy. They would need to bathe her in the morning, but for now, the little dog needed to sleep. So did Leah.

  She snuggled against the pillow. “Do you think we’re safe here tonight?”

  Grant slipped under the covers on the other side of the bed. “The door is locked, a chair is shoved beneath it, and there are dead bodies all over out there.” He fluffed the pillow and clicked off the lantern. “If anyone manages to find us here in the next few hours, then so be it. We have to sleep.”

  He reached out across the bed and took Leah’s hand. “I love you.”

  She mumbled as sleep took hold. “I love you, too.”

  Thursday, 2:00 p.m.

  Leah woke to bright light filtering into the room. She reached out for Grant, but his side of the bed was cold. With a groan, she eased her sore, overworked body into a sitting position and checked the time.

  Whoa. She’d slept the entire morning away. As she wiped the sleep from her eyes, Faith trotted up, as clean and fluffy as Leah had ever seen her. She smiled. “Guess my husband’s been busy.”

  She reached down and rubbed Faith beneath the chin. “Let’s go find him and find you something to eat.”

  The little dog yipped and turned in a circle. Leah stood up, slipped on her shoes, and grabbed the handgun sitting on the table. First order of business, her husband was going to teach her how not just to shoot, but to be a good shot.

  From now on, she would always be ready to defend herself and she would never take her safety for granted. Leah exhaled and opened the motel room door.

  The bright afternoon sun warmed her face and she stepped out into the light.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  GRANT

  Foothills Motel

  Marietta, Georgia

  Thursday, 2:00 p.m.

  Grant shoved the last heap of dirt on top of Oliver’s grave and leaned against the shovel. His ribs ached and his shoulder needled him every time he moved, but he couldn’t leave their bodies to rot in the motel.

  It had been a hell of a couple of weeks. From the moment he overheard the pair of hackers discussing the threat to now, it had been nonstop fear and focus. Until last night, he wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d had. A few hours, maybe.

  At least for the moment, he knew his wife was safe and they could catch their breath.

  Across the parking lot, the door to the gear room opened and Leah stepped out into the sunshine. The light glinted off the fuzz of hair growing back on her head and Grant stopped to marvel.

  He’d always admired his wife’s quiet strength and ability to face death and loss every day as a nurse. But he’d never thought of her as a fighter until now. Watching her defend herself, seeing her fight to the last inch of her strength and capacity…

  It did something to him. She was more than just the woman he loved. She was his partner. His forever.

  Grant smiled as she closed the distance between them. Faith scampered beside her, clean and happy in the sunlight. “How are my two ladies this fine afternoon?”

  “Sore. But we’ll recover.” Leah motioned to the shovel. “I could have helped.”

  Grant shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep. It needed to be done.”

  Leah rubbed her bare arms. “What about all their things?”

  “I buried their identification with them. Seemed right somehow.” Grant rubbed his face, careful to avoid his nose. “I don’t know what good Oliver’s computer will do, but I found it in the bar.”

  Leah started. “When he was shot, he was all excited. He’d rushed in talking about getting online and finding something.” She shook her head. “I’d forgotten all about it after everything that happened.”

  “Did he say any more?”

  “No.” She swallowed. “He died before he could.”

  Grant picked up the shovel. “Let’s get on that computer and see if we can figure out what he found.” He strode toward the scene of the fight, stepping over the dried pool of blood where he’d killed the man the night before.

  The three men he killed at the motel were in the dumpster out back, rotting along with the rest of the garbage that would never be picked up. They didn’t deserve a proper burial.

  Grant bent down to pick up Oliver’s computer while Leah brushed past him to head toward the kitchen. “I’m going to fix Faith something to eat. I think I saw cans of chili back here yesterday.”

  While his wife disappeared into the kitchen, Grant took Oliver’s computer to a booth in the sun and opened it up. The screen turned on and a chat window appeared.

  It was a conversation between Oliver and MFly, the handle Grant hoped was Midge.

  Grant leaned in to read.

  Ollie91: Charlotte Hack-A-Thon. WelSoft guy, short hair. Gave you a hard time. Says he knows you.

  MFly: He alive?

  Ollie91: Made it to Atlanta. It’s bad here. Bomb destroyed everything for miles. No power.

  MFly: Bad in Chicago, too. Business district gone.

  Ollie91: How are you online?

  MFly: Escaped. Everywhere is dangerous. More to this than what you think.

  Ollie91: Where are you?

  MFly: Powers that be aren’t what they seem. Safer to leave.

  Grant paused. Powers that be? He ran a hand over his head. Who could she mean? The government? Had someone mobilized in the Midwest? Were they trying to institute order up there?

  He scrolled the chat.

  Ollie91: Why?

  MFly: Can’t say more. Eyes everywhere.

  Ollie91: Where should we go?

  MFly: Away.

  Ollie91: Where? The plains? Somewhere rural?

  MFly: Think bigger. Colder.

  Ollie91: Canada?

  There wasn’t an immediate response. Oliver pinged the hacker girl a few more times before she answered.

  MFly: Where the loon meets the green, you’ll find the meadow. It’s secure. Come if you’re able. You need to get out while you still can.

  Oliver pressed the girl for more information, but she wouldn’t deliver. Grant leaned back with a frown. She was giving him directions, but to where? He minimized the chat window and a map filled the screen.

  Canada.

  Smack in the middle were a collection of towns. Loon Lake to the west, Green Lake to the east, and smack in the middle, Meadow Lake. He leaned back. Meadow Lake, Saskatchewan.

  Oliver found out where she was and the girl claimed it was secure. Grant looked out the window. It had to be over two thousand miles away. Could they make it all the way to Canada? Could they leave the United States behind?

  The door to the kitchen swung open and Leah emerged. She stopped when she saw his face. “What is it?”

  “Oliver found one of the hackers at the convention.”

  “You mean the kids who warned you about the bombs?”

  He nodded. “She’s in Canada.”

  Leah walked toward the table and slid onto the bench seat across from Grant. “Why?”

  “She says there’s more going on than we realize. That nowhere in the United States is safe.” He leaned back. “She told him to leave.”

  “And go where? Did she tell him where she is?”

  “Not exactly, but Oliver found it.” Grant turned the computer around to show Leah the map. “Meadow Lake.”

  “Saskatchewan?” Leah’s eyes went wide. “Isn’t that mostly trees and snow?”

  “And a small town, population just over five thousand.”

  Leah exhaled. “Do you want to go?”

  “It’s two thousand miles.”

  “Can we make it that far?”

  “It won’t be easy.” Leah looked down at Faith, who’d hopped up onto the bench beside her. “Do you trust her?”

  “The girl?” Grant thought it over. She hadn’t lied to him. Even when she was terrif
ied and didn’t know who he was or what he was about, she’d told him the truth. “I have no reason to doubt her. If it weren’t for her, I’d be dead.”

  Leah nodded, but didn’t say any more.

  Together, they both looked out the window at the parking lot and the broken city beyond. Ever since the bombs detonated, they had been living in a waking nightmare.

  Grant had almost died more times than he could count; Leah, too. If they stayed in the United States, would things get better? Would they live to see it?

  The thought of leaving pained Grant. He wasn’t a deserter or an asylum seeker or any of those things. But if things were happening that he didn’t understand, then leaving might be the best choice.

  Grant reached for his wife’s hand and smiled. “How do you feel about a road trip?”

  Thank you for reading Survive the Panic.

  Want to know how it all started? Subscribe to Harley’s newsletter and receive First Strike, the prequel to the Nuclear Survival saga, absolutely free.

  www.harleytate.com/subscribe

  If you found out the world was about to end, what would you do?

  Four ordinary people—a computer specialist, a hacker, a reporter, and a private investigator—are about to find out.

  Each one has a role to play in the hours leading up to the worst attack in United States history.

  Will they rise to the occasion or will the threat of armageddon stop them in their tracks?

  Acknowledgments

  Yes! I’m so excited to launch book three in my Nuclear Survival saga. I’ve had in my mind since the beginning of this series where I’ve wanted these characters to go and I’m happy to see them on their way.

  Book four in the Nuclear Survival saga will jump time and location - back to the beginning of the attacks and up north to Chicago. Midge, the hacker girl who clued Grant in to the impending attacks needs to save her mom, and maybe help save the rest of America, too. Her story will be the Northern Exposure series and I hope to launch it this fall.

  As I’ve mentioned before, if you’re familiar with the locations I write about but are confused when you don’t see street names or places you know, that is intentional. Although I try to be as realistic as possible, I do take liberties with regard to names, places, and events for the sake of the story (and to not ruffle real life feathers!). I hope you don’t object and can still go along for the ride.

  If you enjoyed this book and have a moment, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Every one helps new readers discover my work and helps me keep writing the stories you want to read.

  I’ll be back soon with a welcome revisit to old friends in book eight of After the EMP, launching late this summer.

  Until then,

  Harley

  About Harley Tate

  When the world as we know it falls apart, how far will you go to survive?

  Harley Tate writes edge-of-your-seat post-apocalyptic fiction exploring what happens when ordinary people are faced with impossible choices.

  The apocalypse is only the beginning.

  Contact Harley directly at:

  www.harleytate.com

  [email protected]

 

 

 


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