Dangerous world, p.1
Dangerous World, page 1
EMP AFTERMATH
Broken World
Chaotic World
Dangerous World
Divided 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, SEPTEMBER 2022
Copyright © 2022 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
You don’t survive the apocalypse without making a few enemies…
Laurel has found a safe haven at Lone Oak Hospital. But her loved ones are still back at South Minneha, and her mother desperately needs her. Winter has blanketed the city in impenetrable layers of snow making any chance of returning to her hospital on foot almost impossible. Then disaster strikes Lone Oak Hospital and, in order to survive, Laurel must venture out into the harsh Minnesota winter, and risk everything in a world gone dark and cold.
Meanwhile, Bear has reached South Minneha, only to find Laurel gone. As the temperature plummets, he struggles to keep the other survivors from freezing to death in the brutal cold. And when the blizzard finally lets up, he faces a difficult choice: leave now to search for Laurel, or risk being snowed in until spring.
The Minnesota winters are deadly, but they’re not the worst thing out there. Laurel and Bear have made enemies… Savage foes, who hunt them even as they search for each other. And they’re slowly closing in.
A new storm is coming. And Bear and Laurel must unite if they are to have any hope of survival.
CONTENTS
1. Laurel
2. Bear
3. Laurel
4. Laurel
5. Bear
6. Laurel
7. Laurel
8. Laurel
9. Laurel
10. Bear
11. Britt
12. Laurel
13. Laurel
14. Laurel
15. Bear
16. Bear
17. Bear
18. Laurel
19. Bear
20. Bear
21. Britt
22. Laurel
23. Bear
24. Laurel
25. Bear
26. Laurel
27. Bear
28. Britt
29. Laurel
30. Bear
31. Laurel
32. Bear
33. Deb
34. Laurel
35. Bear
36. Mae
End of Dangerous World
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About Grace Hamilton
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Also By Grace Hamilton
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1
LAUREL
As Laurel exhaled, her breath formed a cloud in the air. In the dim light of the tunnel, she could see it billowing up toward the ceiling. Walking quickly, she zipped her coat up all the way to her chin and shuddered. It was a big, padded, winter jacket with a furry hood and deep pockets, but it still wasn’t enough to keep the cold from seeping into her bones.
It had been snowing, on and off, for three weeks. Thanksgiving had come and gone. It would soon be Christmas. She hadn’t seen her mom for… how many weeks was it? She tried to count backward, going through the days and nights in her head. After a while they blurred into one. With no watches, clocks, or phones to keep track of the time, it was easy to forget what month they were in, let alone what day.
The freezing tunnel walls seemed to close in on her as she walked. At the other end — the end she was leaving behind — the door to the outside had been left open. As its muted light drew farther and farther away from her, she shuddered. She’d never been a fan of the dark.
Glancing back at the door, she paused. A few weeks ago, she and an orderly named Marcell had come down here and pushed it open. Glued up with ice and blocked by a foot of snow, it had taken a considerable amount of effort. They’d forced it back an inch at a time, hooking their gloved fingers through the widening crack to scrape the snow free. Eventually, they’d pushed it open far enough to squeeze through. As they left, a flurry of snow had entered.
After trying, and failing, to make it out of the hospital parking lot to look for supplies, Laurel had suggested they clear the rest of the snow from the door and leave it open. “At least this way, we’ll have one accessible exit.”
When Marcell had frowned at her, she’d added, “There are solid steel doors at the hospital end. Locked steel doors. No one will get through.”
Marcell had pressed his lips together, clearly not enthusiastic, despite Laurel’s assurances. Since the EMP, the staff at Lone Oak had kept the entrances to the hospital sealed off. Probably a smart move, Laurel had thought; if she’d been a little more discerning when it came to who she’d allowed into South Minneha, she’d be there now. With her mom. But if she wanted to see her mom again soon, she couldn’t afford to get totally snowed in.
Reaching the hospital end of the tunnel, Laurel glanced back at the open door. Snow had piled up and tumbled in, making a sludge-slick entrance. In theory, it enabled them to leave if they wanted to, but every time Laurel had tried to brave the elements, she’d been driven back inside by a fresh blizzard or impassable snow. The first couple of times, Arlo had come with her and attempted to help her clear a path through the parking lot, but he soon decided it was better for them to stay put.
Even though she and Arlo had reached something of an understanding over the past weeks, perhaps even a friendship, now that she was stuck in Lone Oak instead of making her way back to her hospital, she could feel resentment creeping in. Especially when he tried to convince her it would be better to wait for the weather to turn again.
Now that winter had set in, it was unlikely to break before spring. The cold and the snow were here to stay, which meant Laurel, Arlo and Liam were too.
It was okay for Arlo; Liam was doing well. He was getting the treatment he needed. So he really had no cause to want to leave. But Laurel was desperate to get back to her mother, her friends, and her patients. Especially Peter; he’d be off his chemo meds by now and – although Arlo was happy now that Liam was getting better—Peter’s father, Chris, would be climbing the walls waiting for Laurel’s return.
Pulling the tunnel door shut behind her, Laurel stamped snow from her boots. This section of the hospital was warmer than the tunnel, but not by much. It was dimly lit — with just a few small windows letting in light — and rarely used.
Laurel leaned back on the door, pulled off her gloves, and puffed a few hot breaths onto her bare hands. Lone Oak’s ‘Great Migration’ had begun a few days ago. Realizing it was impossible to keep everyone warm when they were spread out across different departments, Dr. Hopkins had asked the staff to consolidate their resources.
Having managed a similar operation back at South Minneha, Laurel had helped them plan their maneuvers; the cafeteria had become an eating and living space for the staff and those who were able to get out of bed, while the neighboring ER had been turned into their one and only ward. Trash can fires had been lit around the edges of the rooms, and volunteers put in charge of making sure they didn’t go out.
Laurel was heading for the cafeteria, and a mug of hot soup, when Marcell spun around the corner up ahead and almost bowled right into her.
“Dr. Rivera?”
“How many times have I told you to call me Laurel?” She put her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows at him over the top of her glasses. They weren’t her usual prescription. Close, but not quite right. Her old ones had held it together for a good few weeks after the bear attack, but had finally been rendered useless when they fell off her face one day as she bent to lace up her snow boots. Her new ones had been fished out of Lone Oak’s collection of spares. They gave her headaches if she wore them too long, were too round for her face, and she didn’t like to think about who they’d belonged to before they became hers.
Marcell shook his head but continued speaking. “I was on my way to find you.”
“You were?” A familiar knot of worry lodged itself in Laurel’s stomach.
“We got Liam’s latest tests back. Obviously, they’re rudimentary but—”
“But…?” Laurel pushed, her heart pounding.
“He’s doing really good.” Marcell’s lips parted into a broad smile that showed off his very white teeth.
Laurel released the breath she’d been holding and put her hand on her chest. “Marcell, you scared me. I thought it was bad news.”
“No, no, I just thought you’d want to know.” Marcell handed a hand-written chart to Laurel so she could look at it.
“Of course I do, thanks. I guess I’m just used to getting bad news instead of good.”
Her eyes scanned the chart. Liam’s stats were all up. The meds Dr. Hopkins had put him on were clearly working.
“Any luck out there
“It’s still too bad to get through without properly clearing it. I’m going to try and put a team together.”
Marcell’s nose twitched.
“You don’t think that’s a good idea?”
“It’s not that….” He paused, clearly trying to phrase his reservations diplomatically. “It’s just that I think most folks are happy to stay put. You know?”
“Don’t you think they’ll feel differently when the food starts to run out?”
Marcell’s brow creased. He tilted his head. “We have plenty of supplies, Laurel. We cataloged them weeks ago. Enough to last a few months at least. We’re well stocked. Besides, what’s the plan when you’re through the snow in the parking lot? You gonna tunnel your way back to South Minneha?”
Laurel sighed. She was glad Lone Oak Hospital had prepared for winter, but frustrated that no one seemed to understand her feelings of urgency. It probably didn’t help that she felt like a spare part here; they had few patients and plenty of staff. So, on a daily basis, there was little for Laurel to do except roam the corridors plotting her escape.
She didn’t answer Marcell’s question. What she was planning to do was find her way to a store where she could scavenge a tent, some proper sleeping bags, shovels, maybe a sled to pull their things — and Liam — if he got too tired to walk.
“It’s vegetable,” Marcell said as he pushed open the door to the cafeteria.
“Hmm?” Laurel hadn’t been listening properly and hadn’t noticed that he’d changed the subject.
“The soup. It’s vegetable. Sit down. I’ll get us some.”
Shrugging out of her jacket and taking a seat near one of the fire pits, Laurel rested her elbows on the table in front of her and let her head flop into her hands. Rubbing her temples with her thumbs, she sighed.
When Marcell returned with a mug of soup, she looked up. “And a bread roll!” He presented her with a small freshly-baked piece of bread. Laurel sniffed it. They certainly had been well prepared. Prepared enough to store bread-making supplies.
“I need a tent.” Laurel put her mug down and folded her arms in front of her chest. Her wool sweater made the back of her neck itch. “If I’m going to make the journey back to South Minneha, I need a tent, food, equipment….”
Marcell studied her face for a moment. “There are some tools down in the basement,” he said, taking a sip from his steaming mug. “I’m sure we could find something to shovel the snow with. I’ll help you when I’m not on shift. We’ll find the stuff you need.”
Laurel closed her eyes and smiled with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“No problem.” Marcell shrugged and took another large sip of his soup.
But the offer of help hadn’t made Laurel feel any better; even if she could source the equipment she needed for the journey, she couldn’t leave without Arlo and Liam. Arlo had made it clear to his men that if Laurel returned without him, they were to assume she’d double-crossed him and shoot everyone. They’d never believe her if she told them she’d simply left Arlo behind, and it wasn’t like she could get him to record a video message in her defense.
Forcing herself to finish the soup, even though her stomach was woozy with nerves, Laurel headed out of the cafeteria to the ward. Liam was at the far end, boxed in by yellow curtains. The windows and door had been boarded up – partly to keep out people, partly to keep out the cold – and the room was both glum and a little smoky.
“You need to either keep the fires down a little or crack a window,” Laurel said — a little more harshly than she’d intended — to one of the volunteers as she headed for Liam’s bed. “There isn’t enough ventilation in here.”
“If we open the windows, won’t that defeat the purpose of having the fires?” the teenager replied, folding her arms and biting her lower lip. She had blue-tipped hair, which presumably used to be all-the-way blue, and a silver stud in her nose. “Besides, they’re boarded shut.”
“Then make sure you keep the ER doors open. We can’t let smoke accumulate in here.” Laurel pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Her Texan accent had snuck through into her voice and was making her sound more annoyed than she felt. “There are two patients in this room on O2 and—”
The girl began to roll her eyes. Now Laurel really was mad.
“And,” she said sharply, “breathing in smoke isn’t good for you either. Coughing, headaches, wheezing… are you asthmatic? Because if you’re asthmatic….”
“Okay, okay.” The girl raised her palms at Laurel. The gesture reminded her of Mae, and the arguments they’d had when she was a teenager who thought she knew better than everyone –especially her mom.
Turning away, as the girl positioned a chair to prop the doors open, Laurel waved to Liam. He was sitting up eating Jell-O and reading a comic book.
“Well, look at you,” Laurel smiled. “You’re looking great, Liam.”
“I’m feeling good,” he said, shoveling in another spoonful of Jell-O. “Doc Hopkins said I’m doing good too.”
“I’ve seen your chart.” Laurel smiled. “We’re definitely on the right track.”
“Does that mean we’re leaving soon?” Liam put his Jell-O down on the table next to his bed.
Laurel sat down beside him. “Do you want to leave?” She tried to keep her expression blank.
With a shrug, Liam tilted his head. “I mean, it’s nice here. But….” He picked at a thread in his blanket. “I’m worried about Peter. We said we’d take some meds back for him and it’s been a long time since we left. It’s nearly Christmas.”
Laurel drummed her fingers on her thigh and smiled. Liam was a good kid. Such a good kid. “I think your dad just wants to make sure you’re strong enough before we head off. The weather isn’t on our side at the moment.”
“But we can’t wait till spring. Peter’s meds will run out way before then.”
“We won’t wait until spring.” Laurel nodded resolutely. “I’m working on a plan to get us the equipment we need, so we’ll be out of here soon. I promise.”
Relaxing a little, Liam rested back on his pillows. “Okay. Cool.” He picked up his comic and asked Laurel if she’d ever read it.
“Not that one, no,” she said. “But maybe you should bring it with you when we leave so that Peter can read it.”
At that, Liam grinned. Lowering his voice, he said, “I might steal a pack of cards, too.”
“I’m sure you don’t need to steal them,” Laurel hissed. “They have at least five hundred packs.”
As Liam started to giggle, Laurel noticed movement behind her. She turned to see Arlo striding across the room — chest puffed out, grin on his face. Patting Liam on the shoulder, he chuckled. “My boy,” he said. Then he looked at Laurel. “Did you hear the good news? My boy’s getting better and it’s all thanks to you, Doc.”
Laurel stood up, moving away from Liam’s bed and warming her hands at a nearby fire pit. “Not all me, Arlo. You got us here.” She paused, holding her breath as she readied herself to ask the question that was burning her throat. “Speaking of getting places… I’d really like to try and make it back to South Minneha before Christmas.”
Arlo’s smile wavered. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “That’s only a few weeks away, Doc.”
“I know.” Laurel held his gaze and her nerve. “I’m just worried, Arlo, about Peter. We took half his meds, remember?”
