Lawless world emp afterm.., p.1
Lawless World (EMP Aftermath Book 6), page 1
EMP AFTERMATH
Broken World
Chaotic World
Dangerous World
Divided World
Collapsed World
Lawless World
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
RELAY PUBLISHING EDITION, JULY 2023
Copyright © 2023 Relay Publishing Ltd.
All rights reserved. Published in the United Kingdom by Relay Publishing. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Grace Hamilton is a pen name created by Relay Publishing for co-authored Post-Apocalyptic projects. Relay Publishing works with incredible teams of writers and editors to collaboratively create the very best stories for our readers.
www.relaypub.com
BLURB
The final battle for survival has begun…
Reunited with his wife and daughter, Bear knows his family will never be truly safe until the Militia has been eliminated. Determined to end the threat once and for all, they agree to help the Freemen with one final push against this dangerous enemy.
Meanwhile, Laurel struggles to combat a new sickness sweeping through the Freemen ranks before they lose anyone else. Seeking vital medical supplies, they travel to Laurel’s former sanctuary, South Minneha Hospital. But a lot has changed since they left to go find Mae. The hospital is in ruins and the remaining residents are struggling to survive in the wreckage.
The Militia have one final trick up their sleeves — weapons of war, that survived the EMP — and General James Bruce plans to rain fire upon his enemies. Bear, Laurel and the others have no choice. They must fight to survive.
But against such overwhelming firepower, is all hope lost?
CONTENTS
1. Laurel
2. Gideon
3. Bear
4. Gideon
5. Laurel
6. Gideon
7. Laurel
8. Mae
9. Bear
10. Gideon
11. Laurel
12. Bear
13. Laurel
14. Bear
15. Laurel
16. Mae
17. Laurel
18. Bear
19. Laurel
20. General Bruce
21. Laurel
22. Trent
23. Bear
24. Laurel
25. Mae
26. Bear
27. Laurel
28. Mae
29. Laurel
30. General Bruce
31. Bear
32. Gideon
33. Mae
Epilogue
End of Lawless World
Thank you
Make an Author’s Day
About Grace Hamilton
Sneak Peek: Burned World
Also By Grace Hamilton
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1
LAUREL
Splinters of sunlight landed on Laurel’s closed eyes and warmth spread from her cheeks to her throat. She tugged at her scarf and shoved it into her back pocket, then unzipped her jacket.
Finally, the days were getting warmer. They still began with a crispness that made climbing out of her sleeping bag a feat of willpower, but by midday—and with the effort of the trek—she was usually hot enough to remove her bulkier layers.
“I’ve worn padded coats, and layers of sweaters, for so long I almost forgot I had a body under here,” she said, glancing at Bear.
“I hadn’t,” he muttered, a smile twitching his usually stoic lips.
Laurel rolled her eyes, tucked the jacket beneath her backpack, and tied it around her waist. The scarf, which her mom knitted her, she looped through the left-hand strap so it hung close to her. For a moment, she allowed herself to touch the gold cross she’d worn every day since her mom passed. She let memories wash over her, counted to ten, then shook her arms at her sides and strode through them.
Ahead, Mae’s long blonde hair hung loose over her shoulders. She was talking to Shane, her face animated and her cheeks flushed. Laurel smiled to herself; Mae might keep insisting it was the effort of walking that was making her blush, but moms always know when their daughters are lying. Even if they’re lying to themselves as well as everyone else.
“She likes him,” Laurel said, nodding in Mae’s direction.
“Who are we talking about?” Nudging himself in between Laurel and Bear, Trent stretched up on his tiptoes and wrapped his arms around their shoulders.
“Mae and Shane,” Bear replied, a note of fatherly annoyance in his voice.
“I like Shane. He’s cool.” Trent released his grip on them, took a candy bar from his pocket, and ripped it open.
“If you keep eating one a day, your stash will be gone before the end of the week.” Bear fiddled with his hearing aid as he spoke. When he caught Laurel watching him, he stopped and tried to act as if nothing was the matter.
As Trent jogged off ahead to go annoy Mae, Laurel gestured to Bear’s ear. “It’s bothering you? Do we need to try and adjust the fit?”
Bear’s nose wrinkled involuntarily. He scratched his beard, avoiding her gaze.
Studying his face, Laurel narrowed her eyes. “You’re nearly out of battery, aren’t you?” She skipped in front of him, momentarily walking backward to force him to look at her. “Bear, you should have said. We passed through a town two days ago. We could have—”
“We didn’t have time. Besides, I think we’re daydreaming if we believe we’ll be able to find a never-ending supply of hearing aids that weren’t damaged by the EMP.” His forehead wrinkled, and as Laurel stepped back in line with him, he put a firm hand on her shoulder. Sighing, he added, “We should start planning for when….”
Laurel reached up and squeezed his fingers. “For when there’s no more hearing aid?”
Without looking at her, Bear nodded. “In the cabin, on my own, it wasn’t a problem. I chose not to use them. But now…” He finally turned his head to look at her. This time, his smile was more melancholy. “We have too much to talk about, and we haven’t had time.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Laurel was about to tell him he’d have to write her a love letter instead, and that big speeches were never really his thing anyway, when she caught a flash of movement up ahead.
Breaking ranks from the group, Mae was jogging toward them. “Mom? It’s Shane. He’s not looking good. The rash is back and he said his throat feels scratchy.”
“Oh, no.” Laurel quickly shrugged off her pack, pushing it into Bear’s arms, and ran after Mae.
While the rest of the group was still moving, Shane had stopped beneath a tree and was sitting down, clearly struggling to catch his breath. Scratching his arm furiously, he offered her a weak smile. “Sorry, Doc, don’t mean to hold everyone up.”
“Don’t be silly. When did it come back?” Laurel crouched down and gestured for him to roll up his sleeves. As well as peppering his forearms, hives had broken out on Shane’s neck and face.
Mae put her hand on his. “Try to stop scratching,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
Coughing, Shane nodded at her. “Yes, Ma’am,” he chuckled. But the laugh brought another coughing fit. Clutching his chest, he leaned forward.
“This is an allergic reaction.” Laurel gestured for her own pack. Bear put it down next to her. “Have you been taking the Benadryl I gave you?”
Shane nodded. “Skipped it this morning. We’re running low and a couple of others look like they’re…” Shane drew in a deep, shaky breath. He looked on the verge of panic, which was the worst thing that could happen when he was already short of breath.
“Enough talking.” Laurel started rummaging for the Benadryl. “In through the nose.” She pulled out her medical kit and quickly unzipped it.
“Mom, he looks really flushed.” Mae grabbed Laurel’s arm and squeezed hard.
“Laurel.” Shane gasped and clutched his throat. “Can’t…breathe….” He began wheezing. Tears sprang to his eyes.
Finally, she had her hands on the Benadryl. Laurel pressed it onto Shane’s tongue. “Can you swallow?”
He shook his head, eyes wide, a nauseating rasping sound shaking the back of his throat.
“Does anyone have an epi-pen?” Laurel stood up, heart hammering, yelling at the top of her voice.
As if in slow motion, the other Freemen stopped and began turning around. But no one said “yes” or charged forward waving one in the air.
When Laurel turned back, Mae was leaning over Shane, shaking his shoulders. “Give him space, Mae.” Laurel tried to tug her back, but Mae wouldn’t budge.
“Shane? Shane? Can you hear me?” Mae’s voice cracked and she slumped back onto her knees. Bear appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her and helping her to her feet. She began to sob, turning to press herself into her father’s chest.
“He’s gone, love, I’m sorry,” Bear whispered.
Laurel breathed out so fast and so hard it stung her lungs. Suddenly too hot again, she pulled her jacket from her waist and threw it to the ground. “Damn it!” She crouched down, rocking on her heels, and took off her glasses, leaving them hanging from her forefinger.
“Anaphylaxis,” Laurel muttered. “He went into anaphylactic shock.”
“An allergy?” Art shook his head. “What was he allergic to?”
“I have no idea.” Laurel could barely speak. The words were like sandpaper on her tongue. “But he said others were showing the same symptoms. That was why he didn’t use his allergy meds.” Muttering now, speaking mainly to herself, Laurel said, “I’ll examine him for insect bites. We’ve been walking through thick forest for days.”
“Snakes?” Art asked. “Could it be a snake bite?”
“Not likely. He’d know if he was bitten by a snake, and with others—”
“Stop!” Mae’s cry was high-pitched and loud enough to make everyone around them fall silent. Wiping tears from her cheeks, she strode over to Laurel and shook her head fiercely at her. “He just died, and you’re talking about him like he’s a cadaver in a morgue that you can experiment on.”
“Mae, that’s not….” Laurel sucked in her breath and evened out her tone. “I’m sorry.” She reached for her daughter’s elbow, then gently nudged her closer. “I’m sorry, Mae, I didn’t mean to sound uncaring. I’m trying to stop this from happening to anyone else. We don’t have epi-pens. If something is causing this—”
Tugging away from her, Mae shook her head. “Do what you want,” she said darkly, shaking her head. “You always do.” Then she strode off, arms wrapped around her waist, quietly sobbing.
“I handled that well.” Laurel nodded to where Mae and Bear were sitting, nearby but not close enough for Laurel to hear what they were saying to each other.
Lisa, who’d been staring at Shane’s unmoving body, offered Laurel a bottle of water and said, “She’s upset. She liked him. Don’t take it to heart.”
Sighing, Laurel pinched the bridge of her nose, then looked at the water. “Have anything stronger?”
Secretively, Lisa reached into her pocket and took out a small metal flask. “Don’t tell anyone I shared,” she said. “Don’t want to ruin my reputation for being uncaring.”
“I’m not sure you have that reputation at all,” Laurel replied, taking the flask and downing a large swig of whiskey, which stung the back of her throat.
Ignoring the compliment, Lisa put her hands on her hips and gestured to Shane. “What are we going to do?”
“With Shane or with the other people who are sick?” Laurel tried to keep the hint of exhaustion from her voice, but it was almost impossible; the thought of another illness sweeping through camp so soon after they defeated the last one was almost too much to handle.
“Both.” Lisa looked over her shoulder. The other Freemen were huddled together, talking in hushed voices, upset but too worried about their own safety—in case what had killed Shane was catching—to get any closer.
Laurel was about to reply when Art reappeared from the middle of the crowd. “We need to bury him,” he said. “Is it safe to be near him?”
“It was an allergic reaction,” Laurel replied. “Whatever he had isn’t contagious, but the same allergen could be making others sick.” She gestured to the shadowy trees next to the road they’d been traveling on. “Could we take him into the forest, so I can examine him in private?”
Art rubbed his beard, then nodded. Gesturing for Bear to come and help him, the two of them lifted Shane and carried him into the woods.
“Where’s Mae?” Laurel asked as Bear and Art lowered Shane to the ground.
“She went to talk to Sharon. She’s okay.” Bear stood up and squeezed Laurel’s hand. “She’s upset, but she didn’t mean what she said.”
“Yes, she did. But it’s okay. I’ll talk to her later.” Laurel smiled at him, hoping he understood that—whatever happened—she was not going to revert to the way things had been; somehow, she was going to learn to communicate with her daughter so that by the time they reached Thunder Bay, they’d be able to live a happy, peaceful existence with no tension or arguments.
After asking the others to give her some space, Laurel examined Shane’s wrists, forearms, and lower legs. When she reached his left ankle, she breathed out heavily and sat back on her heels. “Not what I wanted to see.” She turned around. “What did Shane eat for breakfast? Anyone know?”
“Same as us,” Bear replied. “Rabbit and some of those goose eggs we found yesterday.”
“Rabbit.” Laurel returned her glasses to her nose and stood up. Pointing to Shane’s exposed ankle, she said, “He has a tick bite. They can cause something called Alpha-gal Syndrome.”
“Alpha-what?” Art asked, frowning.
“It’s also known as a tick bite meat allergy. It causes severe allergy to red meat. Pork, lamb, beef…” Laurel breathed in heavily. “Rabbit.”
There was a moment’s silence, in which Bear and Art continued to frown at her as they absorbed what she was saying.
“I’ll examine the others who have symptoms, but to be on the safe side, we should make sure we stick to birds and fish as our protein sources.”
“And then everyone will be fine? No more allergies?” Art asked.
“If they’ve developed, the allergies are there to stay. Which means we need to secure more allergy meds and, ideally, some epi-pens.”
“But if we avoid red meat—”
“Art, listen to me.” Laurel stepped forward and took her friend’s arm. “I know you’ve got a fire inside you. I know you’re desperate to take down the Militia. But at this rate, we’ll all be too sick to fight when we do reach them.” She sighed and folded her arms in front of her stomach. “We were still recovering when we left the depot. We’ve been walking for weeks. We need to replenish our supplies, especially if we’re going to be fighting.”
“We picked up plenty from the town back there,” Art tried to counter.
“Yes, but not medical supplies. Candy bars and whiskey, sure. Antibiotics, allergy meds, pain meds, sutures, disinfectant.” She pursed her lips and met Art’s gaze. “Don’t be like Cornell. Don’t force your men to go into a fight unprepared and unwell.”
At the mention of Cornell, Art’s eyes flashed with annoyance, but eventually he dipped his head and nodded. “All right, Doc. Then where do you suggest we go for these supplies? Last I checked, there wasn’t a medical supply warehouse in the local vicinity.”
Glancing at Bear, Laurel gestured for Art’s map, opened it up, and tapped her finger on a town thirty miles from where they were positioned.
“South Minneha?” Art tilted his head to read the town’s name. “What’s in South Minneha that’s so special?”
Meeting his eyes, Laurel smiled. “Help,” she said. “Help, medicine, and friends.”
2
GIDEON
“Still missing your girlfriend?” Fairfax’s southern drawl snapped Gideon out of his deep train of thought.
Looking at his friend, he rolled his eyes and tried to shrug. “She wasn’t my girlfriend.”
“But you wished she was.” Fairfax raised his eyebrows; a statement, not a question.
Folding his arms in front of his stomach, Gideon stretched out his legs. For nearly an hour, they’d been sitting beneath a tree watching the large metal doors in front of them. Inside, the head of the Militia and his inner circle were voting on whether the two of them would be allowed to stay.
