Escape the Fall (Nuclear Survival: Southern Grit Book 2)

by Harley Tate

  Leah watched her for a moment before leaving the room. Leaning against the hallway, she raked a hand down her face.

  Staying here and trying to help a dying woman wouldn’t get Leah home to her husband. It wouldn’t connect her with the family she so desperately wanted to reach. But how could she walk away?

  “Who are you?”

  Leah looked down to see a little boy of no more than seven standing in the hallway with rumpled hair just like his father’s. She smiled. “I’m Nurse Leah.”

  “Are you here to fix my mom?”

  Leah swallowed. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Are you going to try?”

  She stared into his sleepy little brown eyes and the calling she’d felt since long before nursing school rose up inside. She nodded. “Yes, I’m going to try.”

  As the little boy trundled into his mom’s bedroom, Leah walked down the hall. Neil sat on the edge of the sofa, cradling his head in his hands.

  Leah cleared her throat. “I need to go to the hospital for supplies. Your wife will die without an IV.”

  Neil dropped his hands and stared at her with a mix of horror and desperation.

  “I can’t do it alone. I’ll need your help.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  LEAH

  59 Parrot Lane

  North of Atlanta, Georgia

  Friday, 10:00 a.m.

  “I don’t see why I have to come with you.” Neil Unders trudged alongside Leah as she strode toward the hospital. “You’re the nurse. I spray pesticide around houses.”

  Leah cast a sideways glance at the man. Mid-forties. Slightly overweight. Dark circles of exhaustion and worry under his eyes.

  She turned her attention back to the walk ahead. “I’ll need to carry a week’s worth of IV fluid and other first-aid supplies. It’s too much for one person.”

  She didn’t add in that she wanted a man along in case things went sideways. Not that Neil seemed all that capable of fighting off someone intent on destruction, but his presence couldn’t hurt.

  Parrot Lane sported tidy lawns and newer cars that would never run again. Tiny post-war houses and carports occupied most lots, but the people who lived on the street cared for their property more than Howie and his wife. No one stood in their driveway shouting obscenities at each other.

  “How far is the hospital?”

  Neil scrunched up his left eye as he thought it over. “Maybe two miles.”

  Leah could walk two miles in under half an hour if she tried, but Neil didn’t have much go. He plodded along, one reluctant sneaker after the other. Leah glanced up at the sky. The sun still had a way to go before midday. Even at his pace, they would make it to the hospital and back before nightfall.

  One more night in Tilly’s company and Leah could get on with her journey. She would show Neil how to change the fluid bags and tend to Mary’s IV and what to do if things went wrong. Then she would pack up and head north.

  “Are you from around here?”

  Leah shook herself out of her thoughts. “No. I have a house in Smyrna.” When Neil lifted his brow in question, Leah filled in the gap. “I was on the way to Hampton. My sister lives there.”

  “How’d you get a working car?”

  “It was fifty years old. No electronics.”

  Neil nodded, but didn’t ask any more questions. They lapsed into awkward silence until Neil slowed her with a flat palm in the air. “We should cut over to the next street. Neighborhood gets a bit dicey up here.”

  They cut over to another street where brick ranches gave way to clapboard siding in need of paint and weedy front yards. “The area around the hospital’s gone downhill the last few years. Too much noise and sirens at all hours.” He snorted. “Won’t be a problem anymore, I guess.”

  Leah nodded. She’d seen that before. No one wanted to live next door to a twenty-four-hour emergency room. “So how long have you and Mary lived here?”

  Neil thought it over. “Nine years. We moved in a few years before Aiden was born.”

  “He seems like a good kid.”

  Neil brightened. “He’s the best. Good-natured, listens in school, loves his mom.” At the mention of Mary, Neil’s voice cracked. He shoved a hand through his hair. “If we do this, will she make it?”

  Leah exhaled. “I don’t know. She’s obviously been exposed to a significant dose of radiation. But she could recover. Lots of people in Hiroshima survived.”

  “Even those as sick as Mary?”

  “Everything I’ve read said so.”

  Neil cut her a glance. “Are you a radiation expert?”

  Leah laughed. “No. I spent the two days after the explosion trapped in a bookstore. It had a good World War II section.”

  A sad smile broke through Neil’s grief and it changed his entire appearance. He seemed ten years younger and a million times less fragile. “Gosh, how I wish we’d known. When the power went out, we just thought it was a temporary thing, like a transformer blew or the substation failed.”

  “What about your car?”

  “We didn’t check. We both get off early on Fridays and the weekend is the only real time I have with Aiden. I didn’t try to start my car until Monday morning.”

  “But your wife saw the blast.”

  “When she got home and described it—that’s when I knew something serious had happened. But it was late. We didn’t want to bother anyone.”

  “Didn’t you try to make a call or check the news?”

  Neil scratched at his hairline. “Everything was out of power. I didn’t have a way to do it.”

  Leah couldn’t believe it. She thought about all the time between the EMP and the nuclear detonation. Her mad rush to save the patients in the hospital; the trek out of downtown; Andy’s recalcitrant neighbors. She never thought someone might be sitting at home, waiting for the power to come back on the whole time.

  She opened her mouth to say something more, but Neil pointed ahead. “We’re almost there.”

  Leah stopped. Even from where they stood, she could see the hospital was closed. No lights shone from any window. No beacon promised aid through an emergency-room door.

  “What did they do with all the patients?”

  Neil glanced at her in alarm. “You don’t think…”

  Leah swallowed. “I hope not, but I’ve never seen a hospital just give up before.”

  “Do you think we need to worry?”

  “My gut says yes.”

  “Then let’s cut over to Overton. It’s a direct shot and there’s a bit of a hill. We should be able to see what’s happening in the parking lot a bit before we get there.”

  Leah nodded and followed Neil through the neighborhood and down several side streets until they came to Overton Place. He motioned for her to slow down. As they approached the top of a hill, Neil eased behind a car parked on the side of the road and Leah followed.

  Creeping up the side of the car, they peered over the hood at the hospital. Leah gasped.

  The hospital had been overrun. People sat in huddled masses in a clumped-up line leading away from the doors and into the parking lot. Dead cars filled almost every space. Wood covered the entryway doors to the emergency room and big neon letters proclaimed:

  Hospital Over Capacity

  No Power

  No Aid

  Neil let out an audible groan. “Are those bodies?”

  Leah followed his gaze. Toward the side exit, a heap formed in the loading bay for the ambulances. An arm stuck out here and a leg there. She nodded. “Looks like it.”

  “Who would do such a thing?”

  She’d seen it before in the history books of World War II. When hospitals were overrun with the dead and dying, everything disintegrated into chaos. “They weren’t prepared for this many sick. They must have run out of beds and supplies. When the backup generators failed…”

  Leah closed her eyes and forced down a wave of nausea. “A lot of patients died.”

  “And th
en they threw them in a heap outside?”

  “Many of the people who came here could have been carriers of radiation. It sticks to clothes and skin. Burning is one of the ways to ensure elimination.”

  Neil covered his mouth with his hand. “So that’s a pyre?”

  “Probably.”

  “We should go. There’s no way we can find what we need.” Neil turned away, but Leah grabbed his arm.

  “We have to try. Every floor of that hospital has supplies. Your wife needs fluids. If there are any bags left inside, I can find them.”

  “How can we get in? Look at the parking lot!” Neil’s voice rose and Leah tried to shush him. He shrugged her off. “There’s people sitting out there waiting to be added to the heap. If we walk down there, we’ll be mobbed!”

  “I never said we’d go in the front door.”

  “Then how?”

  Leah pushed her hair off her face and steeled her features. “The easiest way will be through the morgue.”

  Neil groaned. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

  “Do you want your wife to die?”

  He stilled. “Of course not.”

  “Then we need to get in there and get some supplies.”

  “You really think she’ll die without an IV?”

  Leah cut the niceties. Neil needed cold, hard facts. She took his hands in hers. “Mary can’t hold down a sip of water without throwing up. Her lips are cracked, her skin is like paper. If I pinch it, it stays crumpled. She hasn’t gone to the bathroom in almost twenty-four hours. If she doesn’t get some fluids and electrolytes in her and soon, she’ll be dead in a matter of days.”

  Neil stared at their joined hands. “And if she does get the fluids?”

  “Then she has a chance.”

  After a long moment, he forced his head back up. Unshed tears glassed his pupils. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  “Good. Follow me.” Leah set off for the hospital, keeping to the edge of houses and behind stalled cars. As they closed the distance, Leah slowed, checking for any signs of movement or alert eyes before she advanced.

  At last, they snaked around the main parking lot to the parking garage. Keeping to the shadows, they slinked down the levels until Leah stopped at the ground floor and a pair of sliding doors. She pointed in the gloom. “Welcome to the morgue.”

  “How are we going to get in?”

  “We’re going to walk.” Without any lights, the bottom floor of the parking garage took on the quality of a tomb. No one living hung around the morgue.

  With barely enough light to see, she wedged her fingers between the sliding doors. They didn’t budge.

  She tried again. Nothing.

  “Let me try.” Neil stepped forward and braced his legs a few feet apart before shoving his fingers in the gap. He grunted and pushed, but the doors refused to disengage. “It’s useless.”

  “No. We just need a tool.” Leah spun around in a circle, squinting into the corners of the garage. She walked toward the closest wall and spotted something that might work. “Here!” She rushed up to it and wrenched it out of the ground.

  “What is it?”

  She rushed back with a triumphant smile. “A No Smoking sign. Hospitals love to put them right by the best place to smoke.” Leah wedged the metal between the doors and with Neil pulling and her pushing, the locking mechanism finally gave way.

  “We’re in!” Leah stepped inside and the smell of rotting flesh hit her nose. She gagged and staggered back.

  Neil joined her and hacked back a cough. “What is that?”

  Leah swallowed down her stomach. “The dead without refrigeration.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Help me shut the doors.”

  “What? Are you crazy? You want to trap us in here in the dark with that smell?”

  Leah leaned the sign against the wall and turned to Neil. “We don’t want anyone to know we’re here. Come on.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  GRANT

  Boundless Sports

  Smyrna, Georgia

  Friday, 10:00 a.m.

  The lock to the sporting goods store was one of those flimsy come-with-the-door types that took nothing more than a couple of jiggles and a credit card to open. Grant popped the lock and turned the knob.

  “Where’d you learn to do that?”

  Grant shrugged. “When you work with hackers all day, you pick up a thing or two.”

  The door opened with a squeak of rust against metal and Grant squinted into the dim space. The floor-to-ceiling windows out front cast enough light to make out blobs of clothing racks and shelves full of gear, but nothing determinate. Grant hesitated.

  Oliver’s comments stuck with him. I’m a thief. He glanced back at his neighbors. He couldn’t walk in that sporting goods store and walk out with a backpack full of supplies without giving something in return. But he couldn’t leave empty-handed, either.

  If the coming weeks were as brutal as Grant feared, he and Leah would need every last resource they could scrounge up. If he didn’t take some items now, he might be reduced to worse crimes later.

  “Having second thoughts?” Dan eased up beside him.

  “A few.”

  “You can break and enter, but you can’t steal?” Oliver pushed his sleeves up his arms. “Seems kind of arbitrary if you ask me.”

  “I haven’t entered. Just broken at this point. I can lock the door and we can walk away.”

  “And risk getting shot like that guy lying out in the gas station parking lot? No thank you.”

  Grant turned to Oliver. “You’re the one who called us thieves.”

  “And if we steal, that’s exactly what we are. But I’ve seen the news. I know what’s coming. The world will be watching us tear ourselves apart and they won’t be swooping in to help.”

  “It’s early. If we give them some time—”

  Dan cut Grant off. “Then they’ll come in with tanks and guns and parade us through the streets to refugee camps where we’ll be branded and tagged and never be free again. No thank you. I’d rather be a thief than a refugee.”

  Grant pressed his knuckles to his forehead. He still needed to find his wife. If that meant searching all of downtown Atlanta for her body, he would need more than a handgun and his wits.

  He shoved the doubt and shame of his choice down into the depths of his belly and motioned toward the store. “Let’s spread out and clear the place first. Then we decide what comes home.”

  Oliver fanned out to the right, Dan took the left, and Grant took straight down the middle. After closing the door behind him, he waited, counting to one hundred as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

  He pulled his handgun from the holster and held it out, ready to fire. It had been a long time since he’d gone on patrol, but his muscle memory brought it all back. Sand. Wind. Grit always in his teeth and eyes.

  At least this time he had overpriced water bottles and coolers to contend with instead of hidden insurgents and IEDs. He cleared the middle of the store and took stock.

  Occupying only a single floor, it didn’t have much in the way of variety, but the sporting goods store made up for it in quality of selection. He could outfit himself for backpacking in the wild or canoeing down the Chattahoochee or paddle boarding on Lake Lanier.

  All Grant cared about was surviving as everyone around him fell apart. As Oliver and Dan made their way to the front, he exhaled. They were alone.

  He thought about what they would need. Apart from a case of knives, the store had no weapons. He headed straight to the backpacks. Hip packs and day packs and everything in between lined the back wall, and Grant pulled down a hunter-green hip pack that could store everything for an extended trip.

  Inside went rain gear and socks and water filtration straws. A mini camp stove and pellets of fuel. A compass and a Fresnel lens to start a fire with the sun. Waterproof matches and a flint fire-starter. He never wanted to be without a way to make a fire.


  Next came under layers of clothes for heat and cold. Rain gear and a good two-layer jacket for himself and his wife. A solid first aid kit. It wouldn’t replace the kit sitting in his car at the airport, but it would do in a pinch.

  There were so many more things he needed. A fishing kit. A rifle of his own. A ton of ammo. But Grant chose to fill the rest of the pack with food. Freeze-dried meals, nutrition bars, nuts, and jerky. Everything and anything he could shove in every pouch, pocket, or crevice.

  When he finished, he hoisted the pack onto his back and almost toppled to the ground. It had to weigh sixty pounds. It wasn’t the most he’d carried, but it wasn’t exactly light. It would be a slow walk back home.

  Thought of stealing all of it made him sick, but he forced the thoughts aside. He would repay the store somehow.

  He headed toward Dan across the store when a rack of watches caught his eye. He plucked off an analog number with a metal strap and put it on his wrist. Half past one. They needed to get on with it.

  “Found everything you need?”

  When Grant turned around the weight of the backpack almost carried him full circle.

  Oliver smirked. “Guess so.”

  “How about you?”

  The younger man held up a black messenger bag. “Five more solar panels, enough battery banks to run my gear for forty-eight hours straight, and an entire case of energy gels.”

  “That’s it?”

  The excitement dimmed in Oliver’s eyes. “That’s my whole list.”

  Dan huffed over, a massive pack as full as Grant’s on his back. “How do you stand with this thing on? It’s about to topple me over.”

  Grant waggled his pack. “Which one of these things is not like the other?”

  Oliver rolled his eyes. “It’s not like this place won’t be here. I can always come back. Besides, you guys don’t know what I’ve got in my pantry.”

  “Plenty of food, I hope.”

  “Enough.”

  Grant cocked his head.