The Hive: A Post-Apocalyptic Life

by S A Ison

  They turned when Ian walked back in. They waved him over to sit next to them.

  “What did they tell you, when you first got here?” Megan whispered.

  “That the city was cracking down on all the violence. They said I’d be here until they had it under control.” Ian whispered, looking around him.

  “Ian, do you know if there is another Hive being built?” Megan whispered, leaning into Ian.

  “Yeah, over at Philip Billard Municipal airport, it looks to be twice the size of this one. It’s an eyesore.”

  “Jesus. I think they’re putting everyone in the Hives, not just the refugees, but everyone.” Megan choked.

  Ӝ

  Ian looked at his roommates, he was surprised that he’d been put with two women. He would have thought the Hive would have put him into a room with men. Megan seemed to have her shit together. Tilly seemed a sweet girl, and he wondered what their stories were. At least he wasn’t put in with a couple of assholes. He wondered about his family. He wondered about his mother.

  He’d been amazed, coming into the Hive, it was incredibly large. His worst suspicions had been confirmed, this place was a sort of prison. Whether they called it that or not. And the fact that they were monitored. He’d been shocked beyond belief; they would have to whisper their true thoughts. He shook his head. He refused to stay here. He’d find a way to leave. He’d not stay a day longer than it took to escape.

  If he didn’t leave, he knew this place would kill him. He’d die here, his family and friends would never know what had happened to him. No, he couldn’t and wouldn’t live in a cage. His freedom was more important than a full stomach.

  He went to his bunk and sat down. He had to think, he had to get his mind right. There were a lot of moving parts. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake.

  Ӝ

  Kansas City, MO

  Hogan opened his eyes and tried to sit up but grimaced and hissed through his teeth. He felt Trish’s cool hand on the side of his heated face. Her fingers moving the hair from his eyes.

  “Easy Hogan. You’ll rip your stitches.”

  He groaned as Trish helped him to sit up. He was on the couch and two of the dogs were panting near him, and their doggy breath stank. It was dark in the house and he looked around, there was only a candle burning.

  “Christ, how long was I out?” He asked, using his other hand to wipe his face. The pain in his shoulder pulsed with aching, rippling through him with each heartbeat.

  “Just a couple of hours. How are you feeling, beside shitty?” She smiled at him. He grinned back.

  “Better I guess, or at least better than that asshole I shot. He can’t feel anything.” He grunted with dark humor; she squeezed his good arm.

  They’d reached the barn earlier; he had wanted to show off his kill. When he opened the barn door, someone from within had shot at them. The bullet had hit the barn door, sending a large shard of wood into his shoulder. He’d been damned lucky, because it hadn’t been his gun hand and he’d staggered back, pushing Trish aside. He’d been able to get his weapon loose and had fired into the barn. He’d seen the man dive for cover, in the dim barn.

  He’d gone in and ran into one of the empty stalls. The goats were bleating wildly in the back of the barn. He’d shot several times and had gotten the son of a bitch. The man hadn’t died instantly, and Hogan had kicked answers out of the man. He’d been alone. He was just looking for food.

  “Yeah, well you just about killed me and my friend.” He’d snarled. Trish had been beside him and he’d felt the heat of her and the trembling. She’d already had a bad day, and this was just a crappy end to it. The man died, and he was surprised to hear Trish’s grunt of satisfaction. With Trish’s help, they dragged the man across the property to the back of the pasture. She’d helped him throw dirt into the grave. His arm was on fire by then. He was sweating and had vomited. Trish’s face had been pale, but she’d helped him, and he was proud of her. She’d not crumbled or fallen apart. He was thankful he’d previously dug the large hole, because he could never have done it in his current condition.

  He’d spent nearly a week digging the damned thing and that was with a pickaxe and shovel. Good thing, because Trish would have been hard pressed to dig something so deep in the cold hard ground and he sure as hell couldn’t dig it now. His arm was nearly numb by the time he and Trish had covered the body with dirt. It would be cold enough to keep the stink of decomposing down. He’d have to go out later, when his arm healed, and add more dirt.

  “Unfortunately, I don’t have antibiotics. I cleaned it with a betadine solution and put triple antibiotic ointment on it. That’s the best I could do. I think you should be fine, if I got all the splinters out. We’ll keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn’t get worse. I’ll change the bandage tomorrow and check for signs of infection.” Trish smiled, handing him a bowl of venison stew. He grimaced at the memory of her digging the smaller pieces of wood out, once she’d pulled the larger one out at the barn. She had gone to the house for a clean rag to staunch the bleeding. They’d then disposed of the body, which kept the wound bleeding. He’d bled like a stuck pig. He felt queasy all of a sudden and Trish grabbed the bowl.

  He gritted his teeth and shook his head.

  “I’m okay. Just thinking about when you were pulling the splinters out. Christ, that hurt like hell.” He said, taking the bowl back and taking a tentative bite of the stew.

  “Oh, just thought my cooking was making you sick.” She grinned and he snorted.

  “No, this is delicious. Thanks. Tomorrow, we can butcher the rest of the meat. I was going to set up a smoking tent, guess you’ll have to help with that.” He grinned lopsidedly.

  “Sure, but I think the deer can wait a day or two while you heal.”

  “It might freeze solid.” He worried, thinking of the piercing cold.

  “Okay, then tomorrow, we’ll build your smoking tent. I’ll process and can the rest of it. You sure you’re okay, you look a little green?”

  “No, I’m good. Just, it hurts like hell.”

  “Eat that and I’ll give you some pain reliever. You’re lucky, there weren’t many splinters in there. The wood was pretty solid.”

  “Yeah. Thanks for patching me up. Christ, I’m really sorry. I should have been more careful.” Hogan said, shaking his head.

  “Hey, that asshole snuck in there. He could have cut some of the meat off and skedaddled, but he chose to shoot at us. The dogs didn’t detect him, how were you supposed to know?” Trish said darkly. She got up and went to the dining table, where there were rolls of bandages, and tubes of creams. She picked up a bottle and shook out a pill. She brought it back to him.

  “Here, you can take this now, should take about twenty minutes or so, but it will help, you can drink it down with a soda, enjoy, it is one of the last. At least you’ll be able to sleep.”

  “No, I’ll stay awake.” Hogan protested.

  “Yeah, no. I’m sending Baby out for the night. His fur is now thick enough, he can keep watch. He needs to pull his weight.” Trish cut him off, holding up a hand. Jewel was out right now, patrolling. The dogs had come running when the gunshots alerted them. They’d sniffed around the downed man and growled menacingly.

  Trish snorted, “I’m pretty put out. They were a little late on the draw, but from now on, I’ll have them out and patrolling. They usually do pretty good. I think those antlers distracted them.”

  “Yep, I think you’re right. Sorry.” Hogan shrugged and regretted it. He hissed a very bad word. Trish laughed.

  “Relax Hogan. I’m pretty sure they figured they’d done wrong. Baby was looking embarrassed, if dogs can look that way.” She laughed.

  “Yeah, I’m feeling a little hangdog myself. At least you don’t have to go back to work. I’m glad. I was worried each time you left here. Especially, since the power is out. It just seems like things have spiraled. I would have thought that the government would be getting its shit together. But it seem
s like it is every man for himself, there in Washington.” He said, taking a drink of the chilled soda. It bit the back of his throat pleasantly. He’d miss that. He’d not drank a lot of soft drinks before, but it had always been nice when he did.

  “I kinda knew it was the beginning of the end when that whistleblower and the news caster were cut off in midsentence. I think the government has been censoring things all along. Even when I was trying to get information on the internet, it was tough, many sites shut down or were not updated. When I tried on my phone, nothing. Now, I’m wondering what is really going on out there? Especially, with those Hive things. You know they started construction on another one, over at Shoal Creek Golf course? One of our doctors was bitching about it this morning. Guess he still golfs, even though the world has ended.” Trish snorted and shook her head.

  “Why in the hell would they build another one? The one they showed on the news was a monster.” Hogan wondered, finishing his stew. It had been delicious. He drank down the rest of the soda. He was starting to feel the effects of the pain killer. His shoulder had stopped the constant throbbing.

  “I think they are containing people, like they did earlier today. I think they might be putting a lot of Americans in those Hives, controlling us.”

  “Christ, I think you might be right. But why? To contain the rioting? They have the police and National Guard for that.” Hogan said, sitting back. He saw the purple beneath Trish’s eyes. She’d had a rough day and then had to deal with his injury. He felt bad, because he’d not kept her safe like he’d promised.

  “Maybe because the rioting is so widespread? You have Kansas City, St. Louis, Springfield and Columbus. Those are all large cities and if people are going crazy like they are here, then I’d say the National Guard is spread thin. I just don’t know.” Trish yawned.

  “You should go to bed Trish. I can stay up for a while.”

  “Honestly, I don’t want to be alone. I’m okay with you killing that bastard. I am. I’m surprised, because, well, that’s the first person I’ve seen killed. I’ve seen people die before, lots of times. It’s just part of the job, in the ER. I guess it has come down to us or them. I vote us, every time. I guess, well, I just want to stay here with you. Is that okay?” She asked him, her large brown eyes worried.

  “Of course, it’s okay. Here, let me shift over and lay down. You can lay in front of me. Just don’t take advantage of my weakened condition.” He joked, his eyes crinkling up with laughter. Trish snorted and crinkled her eyes in amusement.

  Ӝ

  “Don’t worry, I’ll not take advantage. I’ll let Baby out and Jewel back in. I’ll get us an extra quilt and put wood on the fire.” She laughed, though her heart was racing. She moved efficiently around the house, and got the home situated and locked up for the night. She put more wood on the fire and closed it down so it would burn slowly throughout the night. She brought down pillows and an extra quilt. The couch was large enough to accommodate them both and Hogan spooned her when she got settled.

  Trish was very aware of his presence, the heat from his body. Hogan smelled of disinfectant, blood, sweat and male. She could feel his body relaxing behind her, his large hand resting on her waist. She was sure he’d hear or feel her heart thumping so violently. She was falling so hard for this man. When he’d held her hand when they’d walked to the barn, she thought her heart would break with joy. He’d made no overt overtones to romance, but unconscious ones. He’d been there over three months now. He wasn’t leaving, there was no place for him to go. They both knew it.

  Hogan was under no illusion that he’d be leaving Kansas City within this lifetime. With the information shortage and the lack of knowledge of bombing locations, he would never venture out to find his family. It was a sad fact and a cruel reality both were now living with.

  It had been a close call today, all the way around. She’d been so shaken up by the near detainment, that the assault on her life from the man in the barn had just been another blip on the radar. Christ, and she’d been so glad when Hogan had killed the man. The stranger had tried to kill them, for a deer for Christ’s sakes. The man could have used that bullet to kill his own deer. Yet, he’d tried to kill them. Perhaps all the violence around her was making her hard or numb. This whole situation was changing her. She’d seen violence done to a lot of people and had treated them. But now, it was being done to her, in some form or fashion.

  That made her angry, not afraid. It made her mad as hell. It made her want to burn everything down and destroy. She wanted to protect Hogan and her home and herself. Her hand went to the gun, that was still in the holster in her bra. She was so thankful she had it. Being a victim sucked. She would not hesitate to defend her home, to protect Hogan, as he’d done for her. No. Her vantage point had changed. Her mindset was changing with the times. The government wouldn’t help them, and it looked like it was trying to subjugate them.

  She didn’t want to live in one of those monstrosities. Hogan’s soft snores tickled the back of her neck and she smiled softly. No, she’d stay right here, with Hogan. She’d fight to her dying breath, to stay free of the Hive and anyone else who threatened them. She had a right, the Constitution said so. The government was trying to change that. It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right. But, as she knew, life wasn’t either of those. You had to make your own justice and she would. With Hogan’s help she would.

  She could feel her body begin to relax. It had been a hell of a day, with a hell of an ending. She smiled softly as she placed her hand over Hogan’s. She was falling for this man, or rather, she had fallen already. She was okay with that. Their relationship was changing, and Hogan was changing, and the thought of it made her heart skip a beat.

  Ӝ

  Topeka, KS

  Ian shifted in his bed, thinking about what the girls had said. Megan was right. He’d been captured, along with hundreds of others. He knew his parents were going crazy, wondering where he was. His heart twisted. He was sure his mother was devastated, and she’d grieve the loss of her baby. He was the baby of the family and he was a momma’s boy at heart. He was proud of it too. He’d be okay, but the rage inside, that his mother would suffer and grieve, kept him awake and resentful as hell. If he truly thought this were temporary, he didn’t think he’d mind. It reminded him of bootcamp. He’d gone into the navy five years ago. He’d only just gotten out last year. He’d spent three years on a ship and knew it wasn’t for him and so when his enlistment ended, he came home. He’d gotten through bootcamp and had even enjoyed that. A smile creased his face as he remembered being cycled. Or, punished with exercise. It was a quick way to learn a lesson, unlike a bullet to the head.

  He’d essentially been kidnapped by the city’s government. How could they do this? He had proved to the officials that he was a local. They’d seen his driver’s license and yet, he’d not been allowed to leave the city. He’d been sent to some kind of holding area. He had his medical history taken, which he thought was uncalled for.

  He’d grown up on a large farm, his three older brothers and older sister still lived there. They produced wheat, winter wheat and spring wheat, along with corn. His parents also had a lot of farm hands as well, but it took all of them to run the large farm. He’d been gone over a week now and he was sure his mother was going crazy with worry.

  That thought again brought angry agitation and he shifted and turned over. He could hear the soft snoring of the women. He smiled. They were kind and had helped him adjust to his new home. They were just as trapped as he was. If he got out of here, he’d take them with him. His family farm was about sixty miles from Topeka. An hour drive, but how would he get home now? If he could get home. It would be a long walk home. He’d have to think about it and plan for the escape.

  The administrative clerk had assured him that it was only temporary, until they got Topeka under control, from the riots and looting. But he didn’t believe that, and he didn’t think the clerk believed the bullshit he was spitting out either.
Something niggled in his mind, like a splinter that wouldn’t come out. This place reminded him of bootcamp, with its rules, regulations, housing and food. Though, he had to admit, the food in bootcamp was better. Bootcamp didn’t have the death penalty either. He understood why some of the rules were in place, but then again, why couldn’t they leave? Why the high fences and razor wire and guards with weapons, pointed in at them?

  He’d been assigned to work in the gardens, in the three upper stories of the Hive. The gardens were large expanses of soil that had been laid out, so crops could be grown all year long. There was venting and light coming in through the large windows that surrounded the top three floors. There was a sprinkler system that rained on the crops. Beneath the soil was a drainage system that recycled the water and sent it back to be used as rain again. The dirt was eighteen inches deep, good to grow most crops. Megan and Tilly were also assigned to garden duty. He’d helped them the first couple of days. It was hot as hell up in those three stories. Between the sun coming in and the warm air blown into the large space, it was upward to eighty-five degrees, sometimes higher, depending on the sun that came through and the time of day.

  There were hundreds of people up in the three stories, working in the gardens. There had also been a section set aside for poultry. They were raising their own chickens, using the eggs to feed the people below. The stench from the huge chicken houses were horrible and he was glad he didn’t have to work in there. He was sure they had the chickens in small cages, to live out their lives producing eggs or meat. He shifted again; his mind angry at the thought.

  His family had hundreds of chickens, but they were all free ranging. When the bombings had first happened, his family had sent most of the eggs to local foodbanks to help. They normally sold their eggs to local supermarkets, but also donated a generous portion to the local foodbanks. When people started showing up to the farm, looking for food, his parents had given them eggs, dozens of eggs. His heart twisted at the thought of never seeing his family again. Never hearing their laughter or teasing. A soft smile creased his lips at the thought of his brothers teasing him. He chuckled softly. They were always pranking him.