The Hive: A Post-Apocalyptic Life

by S A Ison

  “We’re looking for food. Can you spare any?” A tall man with black greasy hair asked. Seeing him, Quinn was reminded how lucky he was. He’d not had a hell of a lot of food on hand. If Bart hadn’t invited him, he too could be looking as bad as these men. He did, however, know how to hunt. They stunk of filth and starvation. Their skin had an oily sheen to it, their clothing shiny with filth. They were ill dressed for the cold and the snow.

  “Sorry. We don’t have a hell of a lot. There might be some good hunting or trapping.” He offered.

  “I hear a rooster, so you got chickens. Give us one of them.” The second man said, his eyes narrowing. He had graying hair and was going bald on the top. His teeth were janky, very uneven and heavily scummy. As though his jaw was too small for the number of teeth in his head.

  “Like I said, we don’t have a lot. We have many mouths to feed.”

  “You sure as shit don’t look like you’ve missed too many meals. You got plenty. Give over asshole. We’re hungry.” The dark-haired man demanded, his face turning red.

  “Fuck you. Get going or I’ll end your suffering.” Quinn raised his weapon. Both men backed up a few steps.

  “This is bullshit. We’re starving. You should feed us; we know you got the food.” The balding man whined.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to take care of my own. It’s gonna be a long winter. Head east, I’m sure you’ll find something. Now go. I see you again, I won’t give you a warning, I’ll just shoot.”

  “Fucking asshole. We know you got plenty of food. This is bullshit.” The obdurate black-haired man spat, pushing the other man ahead of him. Both men looking back over their shoulders as they walked away. Quinn felt Laura’s presence behind him, and he looked back at her.

  “You think they’ll be back Quinn?”

  “Yeah, I do. Maybe tonight. I’ll be up, standing watch, outside.” He said softly.

  “Then you’d better have a larger portion to eat. You’ll be burning a lot of calories in the cold.” She said. They’d all agreed to eat sparingly. There was plenty of food, but they could not afford to eat with abandon. They’d all lost weight, except for the girls. They were given the lion’s portion of the food. Milly had started saving most of the eggs, once hard winter set in, there would be fewer eggs laid.

  Now, she was getting roughly a dozen a day, before, they had been getting over two dozen eggs on a daily basis. Soon, most, if not all the hens would stop laying. The overcast skies didn’t help, but they were starting to see a glimmer of sun now. Each morning, Milly made fried or scrambled eggs. She made thin flour tortillas from the flour she had. Sometimes she made thin cornbread cakes. She also fried up potatoes with onions. Quinn had been surprised with the amount of flour she had.

  “I used to bake for the food bank in Denver. I also took a lot of eggs there as well. I’ve plenty of supplies put in, and a good thing. I don’t think I’ll get another chance to get anything. Come spring, we’re gonna have to plant triple the garden.” She’d announced. She and Laura, along with the twins had gone out to the garden to mark off new ground that needed to be turned. Bart had then gone out with his tractor and had turned the ground. They had then cleaned out the chicken coop of all its poop and had scattered the fertilizer all over the fallow ground.

  Quinn turned and looked at Laura. “I’ll be fine. I’ll eat my normal share. I’ll just bundle up really good.”

  “You sure, you’re looking awfully thin?” Worry puckered her ginger brows. He smiled down at her and her concern. She had the prettiest blue eyes, like the sky on a clear bright day.

  “I’m sure. Trust me, if I’m that hungry, I’ll eat more, but my body is getting used to the new world.” He smiled down at her. She nodded and both watched as the two men disappeared out of sight.

  “I expect we’ll see them booger eaters again.” Bart said, walking up behind Quinn.

  “I expect you’re right, Bart.”

  Quinn guesstimated that it was sometime after midnight. Bart had woken him just a little while ago. Bart had taken the first watch, Milly had wanted to, but Bart had put the kibosh on that.

  “I know you can do it honey bunch, I do, but I need you sharp during the day. You know how I like to nap. I can’t do that if I know you’ve been up all night.” He’d cajoled her. Quinn’s lips trembled with a grin. Milly had harrumphed and walked away. There might come a time when all of them must pull duty, to stand watch. So far, they’d been lucky. Bart’s farm was off the main drag. It was a little harder to find. They’d had a few people pass by in the previous weeks, but they’d only stopped for water and information. They’d been given water and little else.

  “We don’t want to explain how we know what we know. I don’t think people knowing I have a radio is a good idea.” Bart had said.

  “Yeah, and really, you don’t have a hell of a lot of info to give out. There’s a lot of bullshit flying out there and really, what is true and what is propaganda is anyone’s guess.” Quinn had agreed. With the arrival of the two men earlier today, it was an indication that there would be more people heading their way. Denver was now dispersing. The men didn’t have any visible weapons, but Quinn was sure they did have them. If the men were smart enough to keep them hidden, then they were smart enough to try to come back.

  Quinn kept to the shadows. There wasn’t a moon out, so it was suitably dark. His clothing was dark as well and he had a black watch cap, to keep his head warm. He blended into the shadows, minimizing his movement. The dogs were inside. There was a fine dusting of snow on the ground. Quinn moved around the side of the house. He’d keep to the shadows, moving slowly around the perimeter of the house, then out around the barn and over to the chicken coop. Quinn was sure the men would come back and try for a chicken or two. They might get on the property, but they’d not leave it alive. He’d have no remorse for the intruders.

  Quinn was craving a cigarette; he’d smoked his last one three days ago. The apocalypse was both good and bad for his health. It was funny, that was the first time he’d thought of all this as apocalyptic. They’d caught more broadcasts, and it sounded like the surviving states were having a hard time as well. Food shortages, and prices were skyrocketing. There were demonstrations in D.C. There were widespread lootings and shootings in the major cities. Martial law had been declared for the remaining states. People were being shot in the streets by the National Guard. The government was bringing down the hammer and bringing it down with devastating force, no quarter given.

  There were also protests outside of the refugee camps. There were references to the hives, but it was confusing. What did hives have to do with the camps? They’d all been astonished at the numbers. Millions of people homeless. That thought was staggering and overwhelming. Quinn couldn’t even fathom that kind of number; how could they house and feed so many? Still, no word had been given on the exact locations of the bombings. Quinn was sure that the United States was circling the drain when it came to economic stability. There was no longer a surplus, but a staggering deficit. That shortfall translated to rampant food shortages, clean water, as well as power and fuel shortages. Rolling blackouts and brown outs had been mentioned on the radio. How could they try and explain that to anyone asking?

  Quinn froze, he was by the barn, he’d heard something, but he wasn’t sure what. He pulled his Glock from the shoulder holster. He’d give his left nut for a pair of NVGs. He’d thought about getting night vision goggles, but it had been low on the priority list. When Zoe died, he’d not cared anymore about much. He’d just kind of existed. Now he was alive, and fully awake and engaged in his thinking. Now, he wished he had the damned things.

  He heard it again, a soft crunch of ground. The grass was dead, and there was frost on it, making it brittle. A slow deadly smile crossed his face. Those two assholes came back. They should have listened and moved on. He moved slowly, careful with each foot fall. If he could hear them, they would hear him. His eyes narrowed and scanned for any movement. He knew they wer
e heading to the coop. They’d get a shitty surprise. Milly had put a lock on the door, a broad smile stretched across his face. He moved closer to the coop. He was now crouched down, so his silhouette would not be seen. The thrill of the hunt thrummed through his veins.

  He heard the soft sigh of the chicken yard gate opening. He could now see two forms, bent at the waist, moving slowly. Their arms were waving in front of them. One of them kicked a rock and it bounced noisily across the chicken yard. One of them hissed softly in warning and both froze. He did as well. He couldn’t tell if they were looking around, so he didn’t move. He waited until he saw movement. He moved in on them.

  There was a rattling of a door and the metal lock and hasp.

  “It’s fucking locked.” One of the men hissed in a low voice.

  “What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” The other whispered harshly. Quinn moved quietly into place.

  “Fuck it. We break into the goddamn house and we’ll kill them all. Then, we sit back and eat like kings.” The man answered, a low laugh disappearing into mist.

  There was a wood pile, Quinn crouched behind it. He’d wait until the men came out of the chicken enclosure. It would be easier to drag their bodies away. He aimed his weapon and waited. He felt no grief, nor remorse about killing these men, nor would he. It was now a simple equation. Their world had substantially changed. These men were a threat to Laura and the girls. He knew he was falling in love with Laura, how could he not? She had a quiet sense of humor and kindness about her. She also had the toughness of Milly. A soft smile creased his face at the thought.

  Laura was married though, to a man who’d never come home. How could he? He knew she had hope, but both he and Bart knew, Hogan would never make it back home. He might as well be dead. Laura would have to figure that out on her own. At first, the girls had asked about their father frequently, but now, not as much. It broke his heart when the girls didn’t understand why their father wasn’t coming home.

  He’d seen the pain that crossed Laura’s face when they asked. It was a heartbreaking situation. Hogan was gone forever, but not dead. Quinn’s full attention was brought back when he heard the gate. Taking aim at the two figures coming through, he fired four rounds quickly, the explosive shots shattering the quiet night.

  FOUR

  Topeka, KS

  Megan shivered beneath the wool blanket. Tilly’s body was throwing off heat, but it wasn’t nearly enough. They’d doubled their blankets and slept on the ground, side by side. Sleeping in the cot was impossible, and Megan was afraid she’d die in her sleep, frozen. There had been a number of deaths, many small children. The administrative body at the camp seemed ambivalent about it.

  Megan turned over and spooned Tilly. Tilly groaned in her sleep and shifted her body closer to Megan. After a few minutes, Megan could feel warmth starting to penetrate her. They slept in their bright yellow coveralls. Their own clothing was not allowed, except for winterwear. To Megan, they all looked like convicts, walking around in yellow jumpsuits. They’d been told that laundry facilities were limited and wearing the ubiquitous yellow suits was easier to care for. Not only that, anyone in civilian attire stood out. As did the guards, who wore black coveralls with yellow florescent belts.

  The Hive, which was what the structure was called, was made to resemble a beehive more so by the outfits the refugees wore. The refugees looked like worker bees, and though the construction crews had been hired by the owner of the land, all the refugees helped in some capacity. Twelve hours a day, that was their work schedule. They were fed in shifts, an oatmeal glop, tasteless and gummy, in the morning. Lunch, they were given MREs and dinner was a soup. It was barely enough food to keep them alive, let alone work a twelve-hour day. They were reminded how lucky they were to have food and shelter if they complained.

  The construction ran 24/7 with shifts of construction crews and refugees. Each working group had a supervisor. They too wore the yellow coveralls but wore thick black belts to distinguish themselves. Once more the indelible image of worker bees and their busy work, Megan thought it was some kind of sick marketing plan. The Hive was rising fast. The structure was fifteen stories high. It was a dome like edifice and nearly conical shape. There were no windows on the first twelve stories. It was an obscene obelisk to her, a prison with no hope and no light. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful, because she was very grateful to have a place to live and eat. The work was punishing and the food lacking.

  Today, the construction crew had started putting hexagon solar panels along each floor on the exterior. The wind had been particularly brutal, cutting through her outerwear. She was glad the work was easier and less strain on her body. The wind had pulled on the framing material. The hexagon panels rattled. She thought about the shape of the panels, and wondered why they’d want to shape them that way. Once more, emphasizing the Hive theme. Those would be used to power the entire complexes. She and Tilly were building the framework for each panel. Before, they’d been digging and moving earth. Building the frames was easier, but they stood for twelve hours. If they were caught taking an unauthorized break, they were given a warning. To eat, you had to have that day’s chit punched. The chit book had numerous pages with the dates stamped. If you didn’t get your chit punched, you didn’t eat.

  Her hands were warming now, but she could easily feel Tilly’s ribs. One of the supervisors had taken a liking to Tilly. She’d rebuffed his advances. Now, he purposefully didn’t punch her chit. Saying she’d taken too many breaks, when she hadn’t. He was trying to starve her into having sex with him. Rape in the camp was punishable by death. No trial, just a bullet to the head. Megan had urged Tilly to tell someone, but Tilly was afraid.

  “It’s his word against mine. And then what? I get kicked out. Or, starve to death?” She’d wept. She knew Tilly wasn’t thinking straight. None of them were, the fatigue from long hard days of work and lack of food was taking their toll on all of them. Some of the men looked nearly emaciated.

  “You need to tell someone, this is wrong.” Megan had urged. But Tilly hadn’t and continued to waste away. Megan had had enough and on her lunch break, had gone to the administrative trailer. It had taken twenty precious minutes, but she finally was admitted. She’d told the clerk about the supervisor and about her friend. The clerk was a woman, she too was in a yellow jumpsuit with a black belt. Megan watched as the woman picked up a phone.

  A few minutes later, a man, in civilian clothes came to the desk.

  “Can you prove your accusations?” The man asked. He had a somewhat florid complexion with a graying comb over, he also looked twenty pounds overweight.

  “Right now, Tilly and I work on constructing the framework for the solar panels. We work side by side, working roughly at the same speed and producing roughly the same number of frames. Yet, every day, she is missing lunch. She only gets breakfast and soup at night. That’s it. Lynch has been doing this for a week now and Tilly is losing so much weight that her body is starting to shut down. If you don’t believe me, have someone observe Lynch. He’s doing it to other women. Look for the women who look the thinnest.”

  Two days later, Lynch was pulled out from the construction site. Work halted as three men in black coveralls walked him a short distance away. A fourth man walked up and shot Lynch in the head.

  They’d all been shocked. Megan had thought the man would just be reassigned or chastised. It was like some B movie, some crazy different dimension thing. People didn’t just walk up and shoot other people. It just didn’t happen. It had shaken Megan to her core. It had frightened her, the power these people from the Hive had over all of them. Life or death and the wrong word could get someone killed. Later that afternoon, rules were posted throughout the camp. Essentially, any infractions were to be severely dealt with. Rape, sexual intimidation, food intimidation, and theft, drugs and drug abuse would be punishable by death. Immediate execution.

  Megan hadn’t told Tilly that she’d gone to see the administrator, she
felt too guilty about Lynch’s execution. She knew Tilly would feel it as well. She wanted to spare her friend that. She was still trying to cope with that horrible guilt. She didn’t like the man and what he’d been doing to Tilly, but she didn’t think he deserved to die. Again, where did the Hive get the authority to kill someone, just like that?

  Megan’s body finally stopped shivering, the penetrating cold abating. She was finally feeling the warmth steal over her. Hopefully her friend would put weight back on. The days were long, and the food just barely kept them going. She wondered about all the other people outside the razor wire. The refugees weren’t given a lot of information. They did know that North Korea had dropped bombs, they did know that part of the United States was dead. She wasn’t sure if she felt lucky to be in the refugee camp or not. She felt more like a prisoner than anything, losing most, if not all, of her freedoms. She’d done nothing wrong except to survive.

  Ӝ

  Tilly could feel her friend’s restlessness. She was so tired, and her body ached. Her bones hurt, her back hurt, and her stomach. She’d been so shocked at the execution of Lynch, that she’d not known how to feel about it. In some ways, she was satisfied, because she was sure the man would have let her starve to death. She also felt a bit protected; someone fixed the problem. She wasn’t sure about the man’s death and how those ripples would affect her.

  She was just glad that tomorrow, she could eat. She’d always been a rule follower. Always done what she was told. It had frustrated her and frightened her that Lynch could get away with it. Bastard. But in her experience, upper management was always backed up. Not this time. At least for now, the Hive had worked for her. She knew Megan hated it here. She did too, but she didn’t see a way out. She didn’t know where else to go. Now that Lynch was gone, maybe she could focus on the future, instead of starving. Taking a deep breath, she let the tension go out of her shoulders and enjoyed the warmth under the blankets. They were finally warm, and she could sleep.