Famine: The Quiet Apocalypse Read online

  When I reached the floor and stepped through the doorway into the main area, I emerged into chaos. Something, either a particularly large hailstone or another flying object, had broken the skylight. Little balls of ice were pouring in, some of them the size of golf balls or larger. People dove for their tents, but the canvas was no protection from the falling projectiles. Thankfully the skylight wasn’t large enough to allow too much of the room to be affected, but the dorm tent and a few next to it soon gained new openings in their tops. The balls of ice bounced when they hit the ground.

  It’ll stop soon. Hail never lasts long. There was nothing I could do except stand in the safety of the doorway and try to squash down the the panic pushing against the base of my throat. Just give it a minute. It’ll stop. Just breathe.

  But that next moment only added to the storm’s fury. Wind roared, and everyone left outside a tent fell to the ground as the most horrendous sound imaginable echoed down from the bunker’s roof. The whole bunker shook. Seconds later, the source of the sound became apparent when a warped metal rod moved over the skylight as if propelled by a giant hand.. The end of it got stuck on the edge of the window, and it stayed, threatening to plummet into the bunker at any moment.

  Then as quickly as it had come, the hail morphed into rain and the wind died. Lightning flashed, but the thunder was further away, and each bolt came further and further ahead of its rumbling counterpart.

  The window. The window’s broken. Damn it, the spores!

  As if to add insult to injury, the whine of the filtration fans faded away in the same moment as all the little spots of light from lamps inside the tents went out. Now the only illumination was the twilight of a mid-morning sky covered by angry clouds.

  I stepped forward into the common area, unable to tear my eyes away from the giant, shattered window with the twisted pole resting precariously across it. Glass littered the floor and dining tables, which were becoming soaked with rain and melting hail. Little balls of ice, and some larger ones, had bounced and slid as far as the tents surrounding the bunker’s walls. I had to navigate the floor with caution, lest I slip on ice or water and end up injuring myself even further.

  People emerged from their tents, their faces pale as they looked out upon the kind of damage none of us could process. We’d spend over a month, and for some of them even longer, trying to hold this place together. We’d repaired filter fans, cleaned ducts, dusted solar panels, sealed cracks, and replaced wiring or pipes. We’d spent countless hours keeping this place together, keeping it running, and making sure the spores stayed out. In the space of just a few moments, all that work was gone.

  Sam, who had never left the floor of the common area, spun on his heel and his haunted eyes met mine. He knew, just as I did, what this meant for our community. Everyone knew. The pale, frightened faces turned to us with their eyes wide. Tears streaked the skin of those who depended on that glass and those filters to hold back a substance that could kill them just like it had decimated the rest of the population. We all knew what the spores did. We’d watched the country descend from thriving to empty in the space of a few days.

  Tears burned behind my eyes. The panic pushed at me, demanding freedom. My throat was so tight it ached. My hands shook with a maelstrom of feelings my body could scarcely contain. I wanted nothing more than to fall apart and wallow in despair.

  Instead, I swallowed all of it. I shoved it into an ironclad box in the depths of my mind. I took one step forward, then another, until I stood at Sam’s side and could look up into the face of one whose expression told me he was fighting his demons just as hard as I was. I took his hand, as the last drops of rain from the storm cell spat down through the opening, and turned to face the growing crowd. Zena emerged from her tent, as did Honey Badger, who scrambled toward Sam and I and pressed her shuddering body against our legs.

  “Let’s get to work.” My voice rang out across the space, far calmer and clearer than I felt inside. The storm above us may have passed, but the one in my chest raged on unabated.

  ***

  I stood just outside the event horizon of industry as I leaned on my cane and watched people work. Rags covered everyone’s faces, bandanas made from strips of sheets and pillowcases we’d soaked in a thin mud of charcoal and water. I had no idea if it would work. But lots of filters utilized charcoal, so it couldn’t hurt, though everyone would look like racoons by the time the day was over.

  The storm had taken down one of the solar panel rigs. The pole three men were currently removing from the skylight had once upheld the array of panels. We were down to two, and one had a few panels so warped they would never work again. We would have to assess our available power once everything was reconnected.

  “Clear out!” One of the men on the bunker roof yelled, and everyone on the ground scattered as the ones around the skylight gave the pole one last shove and the pole slid to the ground with a loud clanging sound. Those same men went to work securing tarps over the opening. I couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but it seemed to involve a massive amount of duct tape.

  We need to hit a home improvement store again. I made the mental note before remembering we only had cars now, dinky little vehicles that had less than half the space of either the van or the truck.

  I shook my head and turned away to walk back toward the bunker. Honey Badger, who hadn’t left my side, walked at my heels as if I’d trained her to stay there.

  It’s not enough. It can’t be. Already we were pushing things. I could see the tension between people who’d been in contact with the spores for much longer than they should have. Nobody was whimpering in corners yet, which was a shock. Either their adrenaline was overcoming the effects of the paranoia, or the storm had actually blown away enough of the spores to give us a reprieve. I hope it’s that. Maybe...maybe it’s a step in the right direction. An ironic thought, given how damaged the compound was.

  As I entered the bunker and made my slow progress down the stairs, the sound of arguing drifted up to me. Sam was supposed to be supervising the interior cleanup, but already I could hear the disagreement escalating and his voice wasn’t there to calm things down.

  Despite the pain in my ankle, I quickened my step.

  “You missed a spot!” To my surprise, Kiera was the one screaming. Unfortunately, it was Zena she was yelling at, and the autistic teenager’s hunched stance told me she wasn’t taking the tirade well.

  Zena murmured something.

  “I don’t care! Just do it right!”

  “That’s enough!” I pitched my voice to carry, and everyone stopped to look at me. I limped forward as quickly as I could until I reached the group that were trying to sweep up the damp shards of glass. The whole space looked odd now that one of our light sources was covered with tarps. Shadows fell in odd places, and we didn’t yet have power back for lamps to drive them away. “What is going on?”

  “She!” Kiera’s indignant, shaking finger pointed toward her sister. “She…” the young woman gasped, and her face went pale. She clapped her hands over her mouth and darted across the floor to one of the large garbage bins someone had dragged out for the glass, where she proceeded to vomit loudly.

  My watched uncomfortably until the worst of it seemed to have passed, then I waved at the rest of the people to keep working before I limped over to where Kiera stood over the trash can. She grasped the sides until her knuckles went white, and her face wasn’t much better.

  “Hey. Are you okay?”

  Kiera opened her eyes just long enough to meet my gaze, then groaned and closed them again. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch...it just…” she pressed a hand to her abdomen. “I never imagined morning sickness would be this bad.”

  Realization hit me. “You’re…”

  She nodded, then grimaced and held her head still. “Yeah.”

  For a long moment, my brain warred with me over whether to offer congratulations or sympathy. Finally I settled on something that might ac
tually help. “Why don’t you go lay down? The rest of us can finish this.”

  “Sam said we needed everybody. We have to…” A heave passed through her slim body, but nothing emerged. I grimaced at how painful the spasm looked.

  “No, we need to take care of our people. Taking care of you means not having you out here making yourself more ill.” I stepped closer, breathing through my mouth to avoid the smell of vomit, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Go rest. If it makes you feel better, you can sit down with Laura later and work on making a list for Sam and me to take on our next supply run. Okay? Go.” I stepped back as Kiera nodded, then slowly straightened and walked away. The slow way she walked, the trembling in her hands, the ghostly pallor of her skin...she must be the one Dr. Haroun mentioned.

  Zena needs her sister. We have to keep Kiera alive. I passed a weary hand over my face and turned back to help those who were trying to clean glass and melting hail from the concrete.

  6: The Doctor Is In

  By evening, we had some power restored. The lines from the battery bank to the fans were fixed, and what was left of the solar array was as functional as we could make it. I was pretty sure we’d never have another day where the whole system wasn’t threatening to collapse, but at that very moment, it was working.

  Sam and I had decided there was no more time to waste. Kiera wasn’t keeping down any nutrition and Dr. Haroun’s supply of IV fluids wasn’t meant for anything but emergencies.

  Zena was back with us, though her uncustomary silence spoke volumes about how nervous she was. Honey Badger was also coming. In the dog’s case, it was either bring her or have her half kill herself trying to follow us. The dog had bonded with both of us deeply, and was slowly allowing Zena into our little “pack.”

  As I handed off my backpack to Sam and he stuck it in the trunk of the car I’d be driving, the door to the bunker slammed closed, and I turned around to see.

  I couldn’t see her face through the bandana, but her short stature and the straight black hair told me who it was. It was a bit of a shock to see her without her white lab coat. She walked straight up to Sam and handed him a cross-body satchel, then turned to look at me.

  “You need me. I know the hospital. We can make a quick run there and back and be here again by morning.”

  “We weren’t planning on coming back so soon. We can’t waste gas…”

  The little doctor fixed me with a stare. Her dark irises felt as if they could burn a hole into my brain. “I have one patient who’s got days, possibly hours, if we don’t get his meds. Do you really want me to go back in there and tell him he’s going to die so a few people don’t have to feel the pinch of hunger for a few more days?”

  “Of course not.” Sam placed a hand on her shoulder. “But if we’re going to do this, we have to get going. You can’t be outside forever.”

  Dr. Haroun nodded, and Sam’s gaze met mine as she walked around to take the passenger seat in his car. Zena was already in mine, with Honey Badger in the back seat. He’d asked for the arrangement, and the guardedness in his eyes had prevented me from asking questions. I knew he was struggling. The demands on our time and our attention grew greater with every passing day, and the strain on our struggling psyches was tremendous. If he needed a few hours to himself, I’d have been happy to allow him that...but now that chance was gone.

  I reached out and squeezed his hand for a brief moment before he turned away, put the trunk lid down, and walked to his own car.

  As I lowered myself into the car and closed the door, Zena looked at me in confusion. “Why’s she coming?”

  “We have to get some medicine for your sister and some other people. Dr. Haroun thinks she can find it better than we can.”

  “So that means we’ll have to come back and then leave again right away.”

  “Yeah.”

  Zena sighed and shifted to slouch in her seat as I turned the car on, put it in drive and followed Sam and Dr. Haroun down from the concrete platform to the dirt road. “That sucks.”

  “It does indeed suck. Are you gonna be okay?” I glanced over at her, with her mass of dark hair framed by the orange of the sunset.

  “This car is lower.”

  I waited, but she didn’t offer anything else. I was left to puzzle out whether this meant she was less or more anxious in it. At least she wasn’t fidgeting or chewing on her hair, so it was probably a good thing.

  Up ahead, Sam’s headlights turned on, and I followed suit. A few scattered clouds drifted across the violent red and orange sky, their edges tattered and gray against the vivid color. The road, which usually turned into clouds of dust beneath our wheels, was just damp enough to hint at being muddy. Zena settled into her seat and turned to look out the window with her arms pulled inside her jacket. I kept my eyes on the road, which rapidly grew darker as the sun sank below the horizon. The car was almost eerily quiet. There was no radio, not even a CD or the sound of other cars around us. It was just us in the gathering darkness and the rumble of gravel beneath the wheels.

  ***

  The four of us stood in front of the derelict hospital’s emergency entrance, staring up at the gigantic building. Honey Badger pressed against my legs. I could feel her trembling through the fabric of my jeans. That could just be the chill in the air, though. I shuddered as my gaze took in the many dark windows, the double doors standing open and all the trash littered inside, barely visible in the gloom.

  “What if someone’s living here?” I regretted my words as soon as they left my mouth and Zena glanced up at me with frightened eyes. “I mean, nobody’s living here. But...I guess they could.” I trailed off lamely as Sam glared at me and his flashlight clicked on.

  “Come on. Let’s just pray we find what we need. Otherwise, we’ll be chasing down pharmacies all night.”

  Zena yawned and clicked her light on. Soon, four thin beams of light stretched into the darkness like tentative fingers in fear of being bitten. Sam stepped aside and motioned for Dr. Haroun to lead us. “You know where we’re going.”

  Honey Badger stayed pressed close to me as we moved forward into the abandoned ER waiting room. Papers littered the floor, along with things like magazines, cups, and even gowns and street clothing. A single running shoe sat on the seat of one of the faded chairs.

  As we moved deeper into the hospital, the little light left from outside faded and left us with only our flashlights for illumination. The double doors to the hallways stood open. The glass in one of the little windows was broken outward and the black of old blood had frozen where it dripped down the transparency. It looked as if someone had put their fist through it in an attempt to escape the hospital.

  I shivered. “Should we split up? One of us should stay with Dr. Haroun, and the other two can go look for anything else we could use.”

  Dr. Haroun nodded. “Look for any unused saline bags, any pills that might still be good. Maybe grab some blankets while you’re at it...the bunker’s industrial laundry machines and the bleach are harsh on our hospital supplies.”

  “Blankets, saline, pills. Got it.” I exchanged a glance with Sam, decided we couldn’t leave Zena and the doctor alone together to fend for themselves, then motioned at the teen to follow me.

  We split off at the next intersection. Zena and I headed toward the patient rooms. Honey Badger went with Sam, a fact I was grateful for, considering how nervous she was.

  Zena stayed close to me as we walked. In fact, I spent a lot of mental energy trying to avoid tripping her, or accidentally hitting them with my cane. I sighed in frustration and stopped short until Zena turned to look at me.

  “Nothing’s going to jump out at you. There’s nobody here, it’s just dark. But if you trip me, you’re going to be carrying me back out. I don’t think either of us wants that.”

  Zena didn’t respond, but she did move away by a few inches. Most of the patient rooms were empty except for the beds. I soon had the brilliant idea to grab a janitor’s cart and pile anythi
ng we found into it.

  We came up to one room, and my stomach twisted at the lingering scent of death. I held my hand up to stop Zena, and ignored the lump in my throat as I shone my flashlight into the room.

  So small. It’s not fair or just. I couldn’t tell if the child in the bed had been a girl or a boy, with the faded remnants of a blue hospital gown their only clothing. I tried not to look at the decomposed face, or the wires and tubes that still led from the IV machine and several others, spanning the air to reach that tiny body.

  “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know why I said it, but I felt guilt wash over me as I gently removed the blanket from the bed. It’s not like they know. They don’t care.

  When I rejoined Zena in the hallway, she looked up at me. Her gaze was haunted. “It’s not fair.” Her words echoed my own sentiment. “They barely had a chance to live.”

  I grasped her shoulder for a second before I moved past her to toss the blanket, with the odor of decay still clinging to it, into the laundry bag on the end of the cart. “None of this is fair. Millions of people are dead, all because one man thought he could play God.”