by Payne, T. L.
Will had been in a hurry for the same reason. After being cut off from Cayden during the firefight, he’d been anxious to get him far away from the insurgents’ target—the military. “Let’s get you inside and get that wound cleaned up,” Will said.
“We have those butterfly bandages you brought back from the pharmacy,” Cayden said as he grabbed Isabella around the waist.
“We’ll have to take a look after we get it irrigated. We may have to use them until we can find a doctor to close the wound properly.” Will held the door to Isabella’s apartment open as Cayden helped her inside. “You still have the antibiotics I gave you, right?”
“Yeah, and I should still have some in my bloodstream from that shot the medic gave me, right?”
“I don’t know, maybe. It might help, but you’ll need to take some for the next week or so, I’d imagine. Now is not the time to get a second infection. Your body is still fighting the one from your burn.”
“We are a mess, aren’t we? We’re going to roll up to your sister’s looking like hell.”
“I can’t wait to get to Aunt Savanah’s. I’m diving in the pond first thing. I’m tired of all this sweat on my body,” Cayden said.
While Isabella headed straight for the bathroom, Will grabbed the trash bag filled with the pharmacy’s medicine and supplies. By the time she returned, he’d laid out the gauze and bandages they’d need. She’d changed clothes, combed her hair, and pulled it into a messy bun on the top of her head. Will stared at her. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. She’d been nearly burned to death in her car, shot at, survived a hurricane, had a building blown up around her, and she could still stand there looking radiantly beautiful. Isabella’s face flushed. He’d embarrassed her by staring.
“Dad!” Cayden had said something, but he hadn’t heard him.
Will turned to him. “What?”
“These are all amoxicillin.”
“How do you know?” Will said, taking a bottle from him.
“It says so on the capsule.”
He handed one to his dad. Will turned it over. “Amox five hundred,” Will said.
“There’s gotta be at least five hundred in this bottle, and I’ve found five bottles so far.”
Relief washed over Will. It would buy them some time. His first order of business after getting to Savanah’s would be tracking down Doctor Guidry. Savanah would likely want to treat Isabella’s wounds with some of her homemade concoctions, and he didn’t have a problem with that, but Isabella needed a doctor to close that wound, pure and simple. He hoped to convince the old guy to stay with them on Savanah’s farm. The way things were looking, he’d have plenty of work.
“I’ll head out in the morning and see about rounding up a vehicle,” Will said. “If I find one, we could be at Savanah’s by lunchtime.”
“Oh my gosh. I can’t wait to have a fresh salad from her greenhouse. I’m dying for a tomato,” Cayden said, licking his lips.
“That would be nice. I’m looking forward to ham and eggs with a glass of goat’s milk,” Will said.
“Will you two stop. I’m freaking starving, but I’m sick of canned soup already.”
“Just wait until you try my aunt Savanah’s gumbo. It’s the best.”
Isabella’s gaze dropped to the floor. Cayden frowned. “I’m sorry.”
A single tear slipped over her eyelid and spilled onto her cheek. “Kevin didn’t really care for Cajun food. He just ate it so as not to offend the band. I adore it. I’m looking forward to meeting your aunt and cousins. And I would kill for a salad right now.”
Will wanted so much to believe that they could find a somewhat normal life at Savanah’s. She had everything necessary to feed them long term. What they couldn’t grow, he could hunt or catch. It would be good for Cayden to be with family. They should have moved back there a long time ago. He stopped himself before he could start recounting all his regrets. He would choose to be positive and focus on the future. They were strong and determined. He would do whatever was necessary to make sure Cayden had the best life possible even in this apocalypse, and he was more and more convinced that Isabella would too.
“Let’s get that wound taken care of and then get some rest. Tomorrow, we start our big adventure to Cajun country.”
Thank you for purchasing No Other Choice, book two in the Fall of Houston series. The story continues in book three, No Turning Back.
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Have you read my Days of Want series yet? If not, keep scrolling to read a sample or CLICK HERE to order your copy today.
Also by T. L. Payne
Fall of Houston Series
No Way Out
No Other Choice
No Turning Back (Coming March 2021)
No Surrender (Coming Soon!)
The Days of Want Series
Turbulent
Hunted
Turmoil
Uprising
Upheaval
Mayhem
Defiance (Coming Summer 2021!)
The Gateway to Chaos Series
Seeking Safety
Seeking Refuge
Seeking Justice
Seeking Hope
Seeking Sanctuary (Coming Soon!)
Sample Chapters
Turbulent: Days of Want Series, Book One
Chapter 1
Chicago O’Hare International Airport
Chicago, Illinois
Day of Event
Terminal Three of Chicago’s O’Hare International Airport was filled with pissed-off passengers. After a four-hour delay, Maddison Langston was feeling cranky herself. Her flight from San Diego had arrived at eleven that morning. By three that afternoon, her connecting flight was still not boarding, even though the plane was at the gate.
When the lights in the terminal cut out and the flight departure screen went blank, Maddie sighed.
Looks like my flight will be delayed. Again.
Sitting in the dim light, Maddie pulled her cell phone from the Silent Pocket Faraday backpack Uncle Ryan had given her. Although she had promised him that she would keep her phone in the bag while she was in the airport, she was having social media withdrawal. She was not as concerned about a thief scanning her RFID chips as he was.
She pulled the charging cord from the pack and started to plug it into an outlet before realizing that it wouldn't charge with the power off. Maddie tapped a social media app on her phone, but it wouldn't load. Her phone did not have a signal. After shutting it down and restarting it half a dozen times, it still wouldn’t connect to her wireless service provider.
To pass the time, she listened to songs from her music library. She usually listened to her favorite music using streaming services. Luckily, she had a few games on her phone.
Maddie looked up to see an angry man in a sport coat and trousers with one knee on the American Airlines service counter. The terrified woman behind the desk had her back pressed against the wall as far from the out-of-control passenger as possible.
Maddie pulled the earbuds from her ears.
Two men had gripped the arms of the angry man, who was yelling obscenities at the woman, as the woman yelled for security.
“Why can’t you tell us what the hell is going on? My flight was supposed to leave three hours ago. Now the
lights are out, and it is freaking hot as hell in here,” another passenger yelled at the petite woman.
“I do not have anything to tell you. I am in the dark too,” she said.
“Oh, is that your attempt to lighten the mood? De-stress the situation? Did they teach you that in customer service school?” the man mocked.
“My cell phone isn’t working. I need to use a phone. I have to call my husband. He’ll be expecting us to arrive in Nashville any minute,” a woman called out.
A tall man in a sports jersey and jeans stepped forward. He towered over the other passengers. Holding an arm up, the man said, “Listen up, folks. All this yelling and getting aggressive with customer service isn’t going to get us answers that the woman clearly doesn’t have.”
“Well, someone sure as hell better start explaining pretty damn fast,” the man in the sport coat barked, shaking his arms loose from his captors.
“Look around you. It is a chaotic mess in here. It’s not just American Airlines’ flights that are delayed. No planes have taken off or landed here in over an hour. The power is out to the airport, and something has disrupted the phones, including cell phones.”
Just then, an explosion rattled the windows. The ear-piercing sound of metal on concrete was followed by the cockpit of a jet skidding down the runway. It hadn’t occurred to Maddie that planes might collide mid-air without access to tower control for guidance. People rushed from the shopping area of the terminal, dragging their wheeled bags behind them, and huddled near the window to stare at the burning wreckage of the plane on the tarmac.
Maddie slowly rose to her feet. Grabbing her backpack from its position beside her, she flipped it over her shoulder and reached for the extended handle on her suitcase. The terminal was in darkness, lit only by the windows where a surreal show of flames and black smoke was casting long shadows toward the center of the concourse.
As Maddie stared out the window with her mouth open wide at the flaming, smoking, twisted mass, a second Boeing 737 dropped from the sky in pieces, scattering onto the runway and bursting into flames. The lights were out, there was no cell service, and planes were colliding in the sky above them.
Maddie came to a startling realization. It had happened. The EMP—the electromagnetic pulse—her dad and Uncle Ryan talked about had really happened. Her hand shot up to cover her mouth. Maddie’s feet would not move, even though her brain said run.
She couldn’t catch her breath. While her fellow travelers stood with eyes peeled to the horrid sight and their mouths wide in shock and terror, Maddie ran.
Her bag’s wheels skipped off the floor of the concourse as Maddie bolted toward a family restroom. Her backpack smacked the wall as she spun around to turn the lock. Maddie dropped her pack and suitcase by the door and slid to the cold tile floor. Hugging her knees to her chest, she sobbed, rocking side to side. Mixed with the crushing fear was a pang of guilt. She had mocked her dad for his paranoia. A wave of grief threatened to crash over her without mercy. As she cried, the years of repressed grief burst to the surface as she recalled the training and warnings her father had tried to communicate to her over the years.
Maddie hadn’t cried this much since the accident. The day her dad died. The day her world changed forever.
As the tears flowed in torrents, Maddie rested her head on her arms. She was startled by loud banging behind her. She jumped to her feet and spun to face the door, her heart pounding against her chest. In the blackness, she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. Maddie pulled her phone from her back pocket and activated its flashlight feature. Holding it over her head, she turned and looked around the small room.
I can’t stay in here forever.
How long before a plane came crashing through the terminal? How many were up there circling the airport? How many had diverted from their flight paths to land after they lost their navigation system and contact with the control tower? Pilots would only have line-of-sight to avoid a mid-air collision. How soon would it be before they ran out of fuel? Maddie's thoughts raced.
She had to get some place safe right now. That was what her dad always told her. The longer she hesitated, the more dangerous it would be.
Maddie stood and blew her nose. She bent over to reach for her pack.
She froze.
Maddie's heart dropped. She was stranded in one of the country’s busiest airports in the middle of one of the most populated cities. And she had never felt more alone.
Maddie turned and put her back to the door. She slid once more to the floor, curling her arms over her head.
Dad was right.
Her friends had called her father, Greg Langston, a doomsday prepper—a title that brought Maddie embarrassment. Before he died, her father had taught her and her brother, Zach, survival skills and how to prepare for disasters. She never took it as seriously as she should have.
“What do I do, Daddy? What do I do?” she cried.
Her mind raced, searching for answers. Images of her rolling her eyes as her dad lectured her and Zach on what to do in a world-ending scenario brought a new round of guilt and shame.
“You were right, Daddy. I am so sorry I mocked you. I didn’t listen to you, and now the shit has hit the fan, and I don't know what to do.”
She curled into a fetal position. Time seemed to stand still in the tiny, cold room. She stared at the shadow cast by her cell phone. Her mind went blank. She slid into a familiar numbness. Sleep had been her comfort, her only solace in the days and weeks after her dad died. She wanted to go there. She let her breathing slow.
She was shaken back to reality by the sound of the growing chaos outside the bathroom.
Maddie heard her dad’s voice in her head.
“Maddison Grace Langston, pay attention. Someday, you might find yourself alone when the shit hits the fan and you will need to know how to survive and get home.”
She sat up, brushing loose strands of hair from her face.
The get-home bag her dad had given her containing all the essentials to survive on the road was in her dorm room in Ohio. It would do her no good now. But she had the everyday-carry items with her. Uncle Ryan had picked up where her dad left off in making sure carrying her EDC was a habit. Maddie looked down at the plain, waterproof backpack on the floor next to her. There were times in the last few years when she had resented Ryan for trying to take her dad’s place. At that moment, she was grateful he had.
Maddie got to her feet and walked over to the sink. She looked in the mirror. Mascara streaked her face, and her hazel eyes were bloodshot. She ran her hand through her long, blonde hair, pulling it into a messy bun on top of her head and securing it with the hair tie from her wrist. She stared at herself in the mirror.
“You’ve got this, Maddie. You can do it.”
She pointed to the mirror with her index finger.
You have to.
Unzipping her carry-on bag, Maddie was relieved that she had brought her hydration pack on the trip. Knowing she would need to run every day to maintain her current level of endurance, she had thrown it in her bag. Pulling the vest pack from her suitcase and emptying all the pockets and pouches, she quickly inventoried its contents. With the Jelly Belly Sport Beans, sports gels, and energy bars, she had about ten thousand calories with her. Her hydration bladder and water flasks held at least two liters of water. She added the weight up in her head. She would be carrying around ten pounds.
When running a marathon or endurance race, she didn’t take the hydration bladder or as many energy gels. There was an aid station along the route, and her crew would take position between stations in case she needed a quick pick-me-up. But Maddie had carried that much weight when she did backcountry and trail runs, so she knew she could.
In a Ziploc bag were two headlamps, extra batteries, a compass, and a multifunction mini tool—all requirements from her last race. From her every-day carry pack, she removed the emergency bivvy bag, her Sawyer MINI water filter, and a LifeStraw personal wa
ter filter. Maddie shoved them into the kangaroo pouch of her vest pack, along with a Ziploc bag of socks and thermals. The last thing in was a weatherproof jacket.
Maddie undressed and pulled on her running tights. After putting on a tank top, she put on a fresh pair of socks and slid on her running shoes. She wished she hadn't chosen to bring the red ones. They would stand out too much, but there was nothing she could do about that now.
Gathering up the water flasks and bladder, Maddie filled them in the sink. She pushed the bladder into the pouch and placed it in the hydration vest pack.
Placing her arms through the arm holes of the vest, she adjusted the straps across her chest. Her runner’s pack was a vest-style. It wrapped around her, fitting snugly against her body. She tugged on the cords. It felt secure. After placing the soft flasks in the front pockets, she strapped one squeeze flask to her wrist. Lastly, she pulled on her dad's Marine Corps Marathon headband and adjusted it to cover her ears.
She looked down at the half-empty suitcase and her clothes strewn about the floor. She picked them up and threw them into the bag. Maddie did not consider herself overly materialistic, but her suitcase contained some of her favorite clothes. It pained her to just leave them there.
This is crazy. How am I going to run all the way to St. Louis?
From her Silent Pocket Faraday backpack, Maddie retrieved her earbuds, car keys, and a pack of gum. As she placed them in the right-side pocket, her hands shook so badly that she dropped her car keys on the floor. She was alone in Chicago and the end of civilization as she knew it had occurred—just as her dad had predicted. She was scared shitless and was not afraid to admit it. Maddie shook her head, attempting to fight back the tears that threatened to spill down her face.
Harden up, Maddie.
No one was coming to save her. If she was going to make it, she would have to protect herself. She couldn’t afford to let self-doubt and indecision keep her prisoner in the airport.