by S A Ison
THE HIVE
A POST-APOCALYPTIC LIFE
S.A. ISON
The Hive A Post-Apocalyptic Life
Copyright © 2019 by S.A. Ison All rights reserved.
Book Design by Elizabeth Mackey
Book Edited by Ronald Ison Esq. Editing Services
Book Edited by Lisa I. Ragsdale, Editing Services
All rights Reserved. Except as under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a data base or retrieval system, without prior written permission of S.A. Ison
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the production of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons – living or dead- is entirely coincidental.
OTHER BOOKS BY S.A. ISON
BLACK SOUL RISING From the Taldano Files
INOCULATION ZERO Welcome to the Stone Age
Book 1
INOCULATION ZERO Welcome to the Age of War
Book 2
EMP ANTEDILUVIAN PURGE
Book 1
EMP ANTEDILUVIAN FEAR
Book 2
EMP ANTEDILUVIAN COURAGE Book 3
POSEIDON RUSSIAN DOOMSDAY
Book 1
POSEIDON RUBBLE AND ASH
Book 2
EMP PRIMEVAL
PUSHED BACK A TIME TRAVELER’S JOURNAL
Book 1
THE RECALCITRANT ASSASSIN
BREAKING NEWS
THE LONG WALK HOME
EMP DESOLATION
THE VERMILION STRAIN POST-APOCALYPTIC EXTINCTION
FUTURE RELEASES
SMOKEHOUSE SMILES From the Taldano Files
PUSHED BACK THE TIME TRAVELER’S DAUGHTERS
Book 2
OUT OF THE FRYING PAN
A BONE TO PICK
SHATTERED MIND
For Anastasia Aislyn
♥♥♥
PROLOGUE
Hogan Wrivier yawned, it was late, and he had a long drive, a long way to go. Roughly eight more hours and he’d be home. He was on the phone with Laura, his wife and with her, were Allain and Alexa, his four-year-old twin daughters. A soft smile creased his face. He was just leaving Kansas City, Missouri, and heading home to Denver, Colorado. He’d made a point of stopping over at Q39, one of the best places to grab some ribs. He grinned at the thought and patted his expanding waistline. He did a mental shrug, perhaps he should lay off the ribs for a while. Laura didn’t mind his love handles; he wasn’t sure she’d be crazy about a tire.
The lights of the robust city were behind him and the land was flat as far as the eye could see. The night sky was brilliant, and he described the beauty of the vastness of the heavens to his daughters.
“I see so many stars, and the Milky way. I bet that you couldn’t even count the stars, there are just so many out there.”
“I could daddy, I could.” Alexa crowed. She was his fearless little one. Allain was more reserved, but just as obdurate.
“So can I daddy.” Allain put in, not to be out done. His eyes crinkled, he could just see Allain’s mouth slanted in stubborn resolve.
“I know you girls can. I should be home before you wake up tomorrow morning. Make sure you give each other a big hug and kiss for me.” He said gently. They were the loves of his life. He and Laura had struggled for the first few years of their marriage, he’d been stationed in the Middle East for most of his time in the Army. Not a great marriage maker. But he’d gotten out when his hitch was up and he’d promised Laura he’d never leave her like that again. He’d been able to keep some of that promise. He drove long distance rigs, but he was usually home most of the week. The most he’d stayed away, was four days.
The money wasn’t great, but Laura was a pediatric nurse, so her paycheck helped a lot. Laura’s mom, Milly, watched the girls on their farm. His girls were growing up to be farm girls. He grinned at the thought of them in their small pink cowboy boots.
“Tell daddy goodnight girls, it’s bedtime.” Laura said and he could hear the smile in her voice. Then he heard giggling and goodnights. Their giggles faded as they went to their room.
“I’ll let you go honey, wake me when you get home.” Laura said in a seductive whisper. A broad grin spread across Hogan’s face. The tips of his ears heated up and he waggled his head from side to side.
“Hell yeah, baby. I love you. Kiss the girls for me and sleep tight.” He said in a husky voice. The call ended. He took the clip off his ear and put it in his shirt pocket, the smile still on his face. Running his hand through his chestnut hair, he shifted his body for the long ride home. His home was situated on the far outskirts of Denver, and roughly a ten-minute drive to his in-law’s farm. Laura was a country girl and he loved that about her. She was down to earth, sweet and patient. He’d met a lot of women while he had served in the Army, but none could match his Laura.
Living where he lived was convenient. It was nice because he had the large city near enough, but not too close. His wife didn’t mind the hour commute, since she enjoyed living out in the country. His job was flexible enough that it allowed him plenty of home time. Hogan also enjoyed the solitude of the drive; it gave him time to think. He was working on a book, and on the long drives, his mind would wander. Once home, he’d transfer his ideas to his book. He’d been driving for years now; it was like second nature. After serving in the Army and driving supply trucks in the dangerous expanses of Iraq, this job was easy. He’d been very lucky, but he had several close friends who hadn’t been.
Ahead, he could see the pinprick lights of distant towns and homes, across the gentle undulating terrain of the Midwest. He had a Blake Shelton CD playing low, his fingers tapped out the rhythm on the steering wheel, the vibration of the truck comforting and familiar. His eyes caught a flash in the far-off distance. Then his heart nearly exploded in his chest with terror, as he witnessed four mushroom clouds in the distance, so far away, he nearly missed them. Had he been in the city, he would never have seen them. But he saw them, four nuclear explosions, the locations of which, he didn’t know.
He was so mesmerized that when he heard a horn blaring and realized he was running head long into another big rig he had to jerk the steering wheel hard, to avoid a head on collision. His truck swerved in sickening slow motion and he screamed in terror, either from the imminent wreck or the four nuclear blasts, he didn’t know.
Hogan fought desperately to gain control of his truck, but the heavy container pulled the cab and rig this way and that. Ahead of him was an SUV that was going to be crushed beneath him. His mind rejected that outcome. He could not let that happen. But he was helpless to stop the actions from happening. His screaming never stopped, and he felt his body tumbled into freefall, his arms and legs seeming to float and then all was black.
ONE
Kansas City, MO
Odd beeping noises were the very first things that wedged its way into Hogan’s brain. Then the rhythmic whoosh and click of a machine, near his ear. His mind was foggy, and he didn’t know why. Was it time to get up? Had he overslept? His eyelids were so heavy, he couldn’t open them. That jolted him. Why can’t I open my eyes, he wondered? He heard voices, far away, and he couldn’t understand them. There were many voices, not just one. He also heard a TV, but the words spoken were unintelligible.
He could feel his heart beginning to race and the beeping he heard began to speed up. This frightened him, though he didn’t know why. Something wasn’t right, something was very wrong. He fought now to open his eyes. Why was it so damned hard to open his eyes? He heard someo
ne speaking near him, calling his name. Was that Laura?
He felt something wipe at his eyes, it was cold and damp, it felt soothing. When it stopped, he tried to open his eyes again. This time, he saw a sliver of light crack through. He closed his eyes and once more felt the cool dampness of something wiping his eyes.
“That’s it, let me wipe them. Your lashes are glued shut. Men, why do they always have the longest lashes?” A woman quipped, humor in her voice.
When the wiping stopped, he once more tried to open his eyes. The light was bright around him and he squinted, sharp pain shooting through his brain. He tried to say something, but his mouth was full of something and dry. He choked and began to rise. He felt hands on his chest pushing him back down.
“Mr. Wrivier, please lay down. You’re in the hospital. You were in an accident. Mr. Wrivier, do you understand me?” The woman asked. Hogan realized it was a nurse who was pushing him down. She had light lavender scrubs on. She was about his age, maybe a little younger. Her skin was a soft pale brown and she had tiny freckles sprinkled across the bridge of her nose. She had fine lines that creased out from her brown eyes, laugh lines, he thought vaguely.
His body relaxed back into the bed and his eyes searched around him. It hurt to try and turn his head. His dark blue eyes crossed when he looked down and saw the breathing tube coming out of his mouth. His eyes flew back to the nurse, frightened.
“Mr. Wrivier, you were in an accident. You’re in Kansas City ER. You were brought in four days ago. The firefighters had to cut you out of your rig. You suffered head trauma, and a pneumothorax, that’s why you have a breathing tube. We had to intubate. You also suffered slight trauma to your left leg, a laceration. Your stats, your vital signs, are coming up, you’re looking better and better. Now that you’re awake, I’ll get the doctor over here and see if we can’t get that breathing tube out.” She smiled serenely down at him. Her hand was on his shoulder, not so much holding him down, but as to be a form of comfort.
He noticed the golden flecks in her brown eyes. The slight purple tones under her eyes. She was tired. Her sandy brown hair was pulled back, but he could see that it wasn’t neat, but slightly mussed. She’s been on duty for a while now, he thought. He nodded slightly at what she’d told him. The beeping of machines had slowed down and he figured his heart rate had gone back to normal.
“I’ll be right back in a few minutes with the doctor, Mr. Wrivier. Try to relax. My name is Trish Newman, I’m a nurse here.” She smiled again and left him. Blinking, Hogan tried to look around him, not wishing to turn his head. He felt as though he was floating on a cloud, he felt pain, but it was far away. Was that from the head trauma? His eyes moved around him, he saw the machines and the IV bags hanging from metal IV poles, along with boxes or pumps, with digital codes flashing and blinking. He didn’t understand the numbers and what they meant. He saw his heart rate and BP on a screen, just up and almost out of his peripheral vision.
It hurt to look up that far, so he brought his eyes down. There was a curtain around him except it was open at the foot of his bed. He was slightly up; his body was roughly sitting up, elevated at a forty-degree angle. He saw a table that could roll around and it had an adjustable arm. He could feel pain beginning to seep through his body, but it was muffled. He knew it was there, knew it was very painful, but again, something was blocking the worst of it.
Shutting his eyes, Hogan drifted. He was suddenly tired, as though he’d run the obstacle course in basic. He drifted and fell asleep. Then someone touched him, and he woke again. It was the nurse, Trish, or was it Nurse Newman? Or, Nurse Trish? He wasn’t sure what you called nurses, other than nurse. Beside her was another woman. His eyes sought out the name tag on her white coat, Dr. Wang, who was in her late fifties. She had salt and pepper hair, a beauty mole, on the curve of her left cheek. She had kind brown eyes and she smiled down at him.
“Good morning Mr. Wrivier, I’m Dr. Wang. I’m glad to see you’re awake. We’re going to take that breathing tube out, so you can speak.” She said this as Nurse Trish began to pull at the tape that held it to his face. Her fingers were cool against his skin. His eyes looked into hers and her own eyes were on the task of pulling the tape. Dr. Wang also helped from the other side. Her hands were also cool against his cheek. He could hear the rasping of their fingers against the growth of beard on his cheeks.
“Okay, Mr. Wrivier, I’m going to pull the tube out on the count of three. When I get to three, I want you to cough for me. That will help.” Dr. Wang instructed. Hogan nodded slightly, feeling suddenly nervous and not understanding why. As that thought tickled through his mind, he heard the doctor count to three and as he coughed, the intubation tube was pulled quickly and smoothly out. Hogan gagged and coughed, saliva pouring from his mouth. Nurse Trish took a damp wipe and cleaned his mouth, holding a cup with ice chips.
He sipped at the cool liquid from the ice chips inside the cup. It burned, then soothed the back of his throat. He coughed again and cleared his throat.
“I.. I.. I don’t remember. I was driving and I woke up. My.. my wife, I need to call her.” He croaked. He watched as both women’s faces changed, and fear skittered across his heart.
“What?” He asked, looking back and forth, his mouth once again dry.
“Our records indicate that you’re from Denver, Colorado? Is that where your wife is, Mr. Wrivier?” Dr. Wang asked.
“Yes, Laura and my daughters live just outside the city. What’s going on?” His voice trembled, there was something niggling his brain, something he should know. Something that was now frightening him even more.
“I’m not exactly sure how to tell you, since we’re not sure ourselves, about what is going on. But I’ll tell you what I know. Four days ago, North Korea launched over fifty nuclear warheads. There are conflicting reports, putting the number at over a hundred. Still other reports that have well over two hundred nuclear weapons dropped.” Dr. Wang began. Hogan felt as though he were gut punched, and then the memories of distant nuclear blasts seared his brain. He’d seen four of them in the far distance.
“That’s what happened! I saw four nuclear mushrooms; I saw them when I was driving. Oh my god, oh my god!” He hissed in a low whisper.
“You saw them?” Trish asked, shock on her face.
Nodding, Hogan explained, “I was talking to my wife on the phone. I’d just left Kansas City behind me. In front of me, it was dark, with the sporadic lights from homes and such. I’d told my daughters how beautiful the night sky was. After I hung up with them, I saw four small mushroom clouds. They were so far away, but I could see them clearly.” He choked out the last, and Trish gave him a sip of water. The women lost all their color, their skin sickly pale.
“No wonder you wrecked your truck.” Nurse Trish said in a soft voice.
“Did..did I hurt or kill anyone?” Hogan breathed, sick at being the cause of someone else’s pain.
“No, the police said that you almost hit an SUV, it was full of kids, but you swerved and that was why you ended up in here.” Wang said.
“Thank god. I’m glad I didn’t hit anyone. What did the government do? How did North Korea have so many nukes?”
“The news said it was thought that North Korea only had a handful, but our government thought, someone, perhaps China, had helped them build up their arsenal secretly. The president sent back a strategic strike. It has been reported that the military sent nukes to many of the crazy North Korean leader’s residential locations, they weren’t sure which location he was hiding. They’re not sure if they got him or not. As for our country, from almost midline, down the United States, the west has been declared a catastrophic loss. There had also been a detonation in the upper atmosphere, they think from one of North Korea’s satellites. An EMP detonation they said. There is no power, everything is dead there.” Wang said, her eyes large and filled with tears.
“Jesus, what about the people? Is the government going to help them? Where did these bombs land?�
�� Hogan asked, his voice now shaking.
“The information coming out isn’t a lot, there is a lot of confusion going on, nothing clear. I think there is some serious control over what we’re being told. We do know that Hawaii and Alaska were hit. They can’t send anyone in, it’s being called the dead zone. There were nuclear power stations targeted. Also, military bases and depots. We were told that NORAD might have been taken out, but again, a lot of information is being withheld. There are a lot of rumors and speculation. It’s all very frustrating and frightening.” Nurse Trish added.
“What about the survivors, Trish? Aren’t they going to help them? There has to be survivors.”
“Again, not a lot of info is being given out. There are people moving, and we’re told, a lot of them on foot. Because their vehicles aren’t working, but again, we just don’t know. I’m so sorry to have to tell you this. We’re all glued to the TV, hoping for more news, more concise information. There are so many conflicting reports and information. Also, there has been heavy cloud coverage. We think it is debris from all the bombs west, the government is testing it for radioactive fallout. They don’t know when the skies will clear. It has made the temperature drop.” Wang said, shaking her head sadly.
“I’ll be back later to see how you’re doing. For now, rest Mr. Wrivier.” Dr. Wang announced.
“I’ll get you something to eat, Mr. Wrivier.” Nurse Trish said.
“Call me Hogan, please. I’m not really hungry.”
“I understand, Hogan, but you need to put something in your stomach. You’ve been out of it for four days. We’ll take out the feeding tube shortly, and I want you to try to eat. Just try to eat a little, I’ll get some jello for you. I’ll be back to take out the feeding tube and I’ll bring a tray.” Trish said and laid a hand on his shoulder. He nodded absently and watched the women walk away. He couldn’t see beside him, the curtain blocking his way. He could hear someone coughing. Wiping at the tears that were sliding down the side of his face, Hogan’s brain was going a thousand miles a second, trying to think about what he could do. He had to get out of this place, he had to go find his wife and girls.