Escaping Chaos Book 2 Nation Betrayed

Posted: November 14, 2023 in NATION BETRAYED

Chapter 1

Ryan-Clear Creek River Inn Resort (Day 1)

Maria Valdez looked around the small apartment to ensure all was in its place. They wouldn’t return to their apartment until the end of the day. The small apartment included a bedroom, a bathroom, a small living room, and a kitchenette. All was neat and straightened, and coffee was on the nightstand. Lots of work to do preparing the Clear Creek River Inn for a new collection of vacationers. Maria had already pulled on a floral skirt and white blouse when she leaned over her husband to shake his shoulder. “Pablo, you need to get up, old man. I brought you coffee. Señor Brian will be back this morning. He’ll want to discuss how the new group of kids are doing. You need to explain with this first week of vacationers, they had trouble keeping up. We need more help or more experienced help in the kitchen.”

Pablo took a drink of coffee and then set the cup down. “Sí, I told Señor Brian it was not good hiring such young ones,” He responded as he rose to his feet at the side of the bed, putting on his pants.

Maria ran a brush through her hair, laughing. “They all look like young kids at our age. They’re college students and maybe will grow up if we give them time, but we need help now.”

Pablo announced. “I already called Señor Brian and told him they were not hard workers. All they want to do is play on their phones or make eyes at each other. He told me they’ll shape up if we have a firm hand and guide them.” Pablo sighed. “I had to remind that young blue-haired man to feed the horses again.” Pablo pulled on his shirt and stepped into his boots. “Lots to do. Let’s get the day started.” He tucked the shirt into his pants and buckled his belt.

Suddenly, a scream pierced the morning peace. Pablo looked at Maria, then ran from the small suite. He raced toward the sound as Maria threw her brush on the dresser and followed. When they got to the girl’s dorm, two young women stood outside clinging together, screaming hysterically. Pablo and Maria rushed to the girls, pulled them from the dorm’s door, and led them across the porch toward chairs.

“What’s going on?” Maria wrapped her arms around the girls. “What has you so upset?”

Becky Grayson, a small, dark-haired twenty-year-old, turned and buried her face against Maria. “They’re dead! Everyone is dead!” She started wailing incoherently again.

The girl with her, Lilly Baker, was white as a sheet and suddenly collapsed. Pablo caught her just before her head hit the wood deck. “Stop screaming! We can’t help you if we can’t understand what you’re saying!” Pablo ordered.

Maria stepped away from Becky and pulled a pillow from a deck chair, slipping it under the girl’s head. Becky stood silently watching; Maria rose, put her arm around Becky again, and led her to a chair. “Come now and talk to us. What is this all about?”

Becky sat in the chair, sniffling. “They’re all dead. I got up when the alarm went off. I knew Lupe would be starting breakfast, but Lilly and I were the only ones to get up. When I tried to wake the others, they wouldn’t wake up. They were dead. I tried to wake all of them, but…,” her voice trailed off.

“What about the men’s dorm? Has anyone come out?” Pablo asked.

Becky shrugged. “Maria, stay here with the girls. I will check on both dorms and the rest of the staff. Then, if she wakes up, take her into our home and give the girls something to drink.” He hurried back to his room, picked up a handgun, and stuck it in the back of his pants.

Maria looked at Pablo. “Why did you get that.”

“I don’t know what’s happening; I don’t want to need it and not have it.” He passed Maria a cell phone. “But I will find out and try to call the sheriff’s office. But, for now, take care of the girls. Señor Brian will be here soon, and he’ll know what to do,” Pablo responded.

“Be careful,” Maria whispered. Pablo smiled.

Pablo took a deep breath before he turned the knob and headed into the women’s dorm. He opened the door. A dim light came from windows covered with open shades, but Pablo flipped on the bank of lights, filling the room with light. “Rise and shine,” he called out. No one moved. Pablo wiped the moisture from his forehead as he walked to the first bunk. The girl wore a T-shirt and was covered with a white sheet except for one leg. Dark red hair spilled across the pillow, and he brushed curls away to place his hand on the pale skin of the girl’s neck and felt for a pulse. The cold skin held no warmth or vibration of life. It didn’t take a doctor to know dead when he felt the flesh. Pablo moved to the next bunk to see a blonde with short locks, only to find the same results. When he moved through the rest of the dorm, he realized eight girls were dead without any sign of violence. Pablo exited the women’s dorm and walked to the men’s housing. He knocked. Again, there was no response. Finally, Pablo stepped into the room and flipped the light switches. The room brightened, and Pablo saw a single figure sitting on a lower bunk. The lone young man raised his head, and Pablo saw a confused look on his face.

“They’re all dead. I checked everyone,” Ryan Nicoles said. “I tried calling 911, but it goes to an automatic answer service. How can this be happening?”

Pablo crossed the room. “Ryan, why didn’t you come to get me?”

“It’s everywhere. People have died all across the state. When I tried to call 911 without an answer, I tried to use the Internet to get help. But I can’t get through to any emergency services,” Ryan said. “Frankly, I figured the rest of you would be dead until I heard screaming. I didn’t have the nerve to get up and see who it was.”

“It was two of the girls.” Pablo reached for Ryan’s arm. “I haven’t checked the staff yet. Can you help me?”

Ryan sighed. “Sorry. I don’t know what to do to help. Being pre-med has not helped a damned bit. All the classes, I’ve taken and all the internships mean nothing. The first time I saw death, I froze. I’m a big fucking failure.”

“No, we’re all in shock here. I’m not sure if any of us know what to do. You know more than the rest of us,” Pablo argued. “Maria and I had no idea.”

Ryan rose and took a deep breath. “I’m okay; I’m ready to go.”

The two men walked back to the staff wing and knocked on the door of Lupe’s cabin; it was empty. With no answer, he looked inside and said. “We’ll check the kitchen. She’s up by five.” Pablo commented. “That means she’s in the kitchen, hopefully.”

“I hope we find her making breakfast,” Ryan answered.

Pablo nodded as he knocked on the next cabin. “So do I. Millie and Gilbert are probably not in their cabin, either. Both should be in the kitchen, too.” As predicted, the cabin was empty. “I hope this is a good sign. Let’s head to the kitchen.”

Ryan squared his shoulders and, with Pablo, walked past the central courtyard behind the inn to the kitchen. Pablo opened the door to see Lupe, Millie, and Gilbert drinking coffee at a large table amid the aroma of baking biscuits and cooking bacon. A tear of relief slid down Pablo’s face, and he quickly wiped them away.

“Gracias a Dios! I am happy to see you three are okay. We’ve got problems. Stay here while we gather the others, and we’ll explain when I return,” Pablo said. “No breakfast for now.”

Lupe, a Hispanic woman in her late fifties, with Millie and Gilbert, an older black couple, glanced at each other with puzzled looks. Pablo ignored it. Pablo returned to his and Maria’s cabin with Ryan to find the unconscious girl had awakened. Becky continued to sniffle in the corner but was no longer hysterical.

“Lilly? How are you feeling?” Pablo asked.

She sat up, looking sad and frightened. “I guess better. I can’t believe this.” Lilly saw Ryan, and tears slipped from her eyes. “This is impossible. Right?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ryan answered.

“It’s all right,” Pablo said. “Come on, everyone. Let’s get to the kitchen and explain to the others what’s happened. Then, we’ll have coffee and breakfast. After that, we can discuss what we know and what Ryan can share.”

Maria raised her voice. “Sí. We can do nothing more. Let’s have breakfast and feel better,” she gave Pablo a questioning look. “Come on, girls. You too, Becky.”

“I can’t believe this,” Becky commented as she got to her feet.

Pablo ushered the two younger women, Ryan and Maria, from his home, and then he followed, closing the door. The trio of younger people started walking toward the kitchen. Maria stepped close, and Pablo grabbed her hand and whispered. “Be strong. It is bad.”

Ryan stepped between the two younger women and steered them toward the kitchen. They each grabbed at him as if needing his support. Ryan placed an arm around each of the girls.

Maria followed the young people to the kitchen, still clinging to Pablo. Her heart pounded in her chest until she saw Lupe, Millie, and Gilbert, and she gave Pablo’s hand a final squeeze. “Tan contenta de verto!” she uttered, cleared her throat, and spoke again. “Muy Bueno to see you.”

“We saw you last night,” Millie quipped with a puzzled look on her black face. Why are dem kids not coming to breakfast?”

Lupe began filling cups of coffee.

“We’ll discuss that as we eat,” Pablo said. “For now, this is everyone that will be coming.”

Lupe set the plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits on the table. Lupe, Millie, and Gilbert ate while the rest of the group tried to eat but mostly drank coffee and pushed food around on their plates. Gilbert continued to study the group, not eating, and put his fork down. He moved his plate aside and looked at Pablo. “Okay, speak of dat elephant in da room. We know something is wrong.”

Pablo and Ryan explained the tragedy they had found, what they knew, and what questions remained. “It’s not just here, so now you see the situation; we must make some decisions. Since we cannot contact the sheriff’s office by cell or landline, we must drive into Columbus and notify the authorities. I hesitate to leave if Mr. Brian comes and wants answers, and for the same reason, Gilbert is out of the question. That leaves one of the women or Ryan. I don’t want to ask the women to go since we know nothing of the situation.”

“Agreed,” Ryan said. “I should be the one to go.”

“But he shouldn’t go alone,” Lilly said, pushing her dark brown hair from her face. “I’ll go with him.”

Pablo turned to the young woman. “Are you sure? You fainted. If it’s bad in town, you can’t do that.”

“Yes, I’m sure. It was just the shock. I’m fine now,” Lilly retorted. “We don’t have the luxury of my wimping out now.”

“Okay, that’s solved,” Pablo said. “We’ll leave the bodies where they are. You three will bunk in Mr. Brian’s suite. It has two bedrooms if that’s acceptable.”

“That’s fine with us,” Lilly looked at Becky and Ryan. Both nodded.

“Do we need to pick up anything in town?” Ryan asked.

“We got a large paper and non-perishable shipment Friday, so we’re good on groceries. Gilbert and I have to put the stock away. I wish we had a fresh produce shipment, but I doubt that will happen. I sure wish we had the garden a little further along; then, we’d have our own if we end up well-stocked for a while. It’s too soon to know for sure what our future holds. We need more information. I think we have to depend on Ryan and Lilly for that.”

Ryan got to his feet. “Pablo, will you help me get the girls’ lockers and get them out of the dorm? Then the dorms can be closed off, and we won’t need to return inside until the authorities take care of the bodies.”

“Sounds like a good plan. In the meantime, we’ll take care of the Inn and maintain the facility as before. Ryan, we hope you return with the help that will give us a clearer picture of our future.”

“I want to know when I can go home,” Becky said. “My family is in Austin. I can’t reach my mother.”

Maria reached across the table to cover Becky’s hand with her own. “We know, Mi hija. But, unfortunately, no one can reach their family. Wait until Ryan returns with news, please.” Maria looked at Pablo. He smiled sadly at her as they thought of their son in California and another driving a cross-country truck.

******

✯JUST RELEASED! ESCAPING CHAOS!✯
Book 2 of Nation Betrayed Series
What if a corrupt government forced medical treatments on the populaces that resulted in a massive die-off, enabling the invasion by a rogue nation? Will there be anyone to save the country and the young children left behind? Fatal Shot and Escaping Chaos tells the story…. Both are available on B&N, Amazon, and Amazon Kindle Unlimited. NOW!
Fatal Shot
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RG9K9KB

Escaping Chaos
https://www.amazon.com/k/dp/B0CLQFLYMK

Nation Betrayed Book 1, Fatal Shot

Posted: January 28, 2024 in Fatal Shot Book 1, NATION BETRAYED
Tags: Apocalypse, horror, sci-fi

What if there is a corrupt government that forces medical treatments on the populaces that results in a massive die-off, enabling the invasion by a rogue nation? Will there be anyone to fight to save the country and the young children left behind? Fatal Shot tells the story….
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09RG9K9KB

Chapter 1

Morning Light – Day 1

Annie rolled over and glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand, then squeezed her eyes shut in frustration. It was the first day of her forced vacation. She refused to crawl out of bed before nine o’clock. The glaring numbers said it was barely seven, and there was only a hint of light shining through the vertical blinds. Annie scrunched her pillow under her head and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to evoke sleep. She waited to hear the sound of the big blue monster trucks picking up Monday’s trash and recycling.

Suddenly a nearby siren shattered the quiet, and Annie realized she heard multiple emergency vehicles in the distance. Annie pulled the pillow over her head to escape the world, trying to recapture some sense of peace for her first day of doing nothing, but an uneasy feeling invaded. Why so many emergency vehicles? Was there an accident at the local water treatment plant?

The doorbell rang, and Annie’s Ring Doorbell App on her phone chimed, then the person pounded on her door. Irritation escalated as Annie mumbled. “The world hates me!” Annie reached for her Android and swiped the screen. “What the hell?” It was the neighbor from down the street that barely spoke to her when their paths crossed. “Now, what could she want this early?” Annie looked at the screen and was more than a little puzzled. Sandy, usually looked like she was having tea with the mayor’s wife. Not today. Today she looked like death warmed over.

Sandy pounded on the door again with the heels of both hands. “Annie! Annie! Please, someone has to help me!” Sandy pleaded.

Annie activated the intercom on the cell phone screen. “Sandy, give me a minute!” She climbed out of bed and jerked on a ratty terry-cloth robe over her pajamas.

“Help me!” Sandy wailed. “Gil’s dead! George, Gina, Mary, and Chris. All dead. Everyone is dead!”

Annie got to the door running her hand through her short, curly, blonde hair while Sandy continued to rattle off the names of neighbors. Annie closed the screen on her phone, dropped the device in her pocket, and jerked open the door to see a woman she barely recognized.

Still in her nightgown, Sandy had swollen red eyes with streaks of eye makeup running down her cheeks. Her face was strained and drawn with stress. Sandy appeared to have aged ten years overnight.

Sandy grabbed Annie’s arm as soon as the door opened, digging her nails into Annie’s bare skin. “My Gil is dead; they’re all dead,” Sandy’s voice trailed off as sobs stole her breath away.

“Stop it!” Annie jerked her arm free, leaving a trail of red welts across her arm. Annie stared at the four narrow red lines with beads of blood when she realized she was hearing an infant’s wail next door. Annie looked toward the neighbor’s house and saw both cars in the driveway. What was going on? The young couple had three kids, including an eighteen-month-old that had a good set of lungs. The day was turning into a shit show. “Why don’t the Burtons feed that kid? Christ!” Annie asked as she rubbed at her temples. “I can’t think with all this noise from sirens, screaming babies, and your howling.”

“They’re probably dead! Like everyone else….” Sandy looked horrified at the realization, and suddenly her knees buckled.

Annie reached out and caught Sandy just in time to make a clumsy effort to ease her to the floor. Annie grabbed a cushion from the couch to slide under Sandy’s head. Slowly Annie began to realize just how different the world sounded outside. There were noises that you never really noticed until they were no longer there; cars on the streets, trains in the distance, sirens, yard crews mowing, planes overhead, echoes of life all around. The emergency sirens that were once infrequent now were a constant assault on her hearing.

Suddenly there was the muffled sound of an explosion in the distance, then another. Annie walked to the back door and looked out. A dark spiral of smoke rose from a private airport a few miles away. She walked back to the front door and saw several dark columns of smoke rising from the metro area at the front of the subdivision.

“What in the hell did I sleep through?” Annie asked as she picked up the television remote and turned on the local news channel. Unfortunately, the station was replaying canned programming that should have ended hours ago. Annie scanned networks until she found a local station that looked to be a live broadcast.

Annie watched the screen in amazement. The picture on the screen was strange. Replacing the slick, professional newscaster who usually sat behind the desk was a frazzled-looking woman sitting in front of the station logo. The woman with tattooed arms, dressed in a white t-shirt, blew her nose and swiped at her red eyes impatiently as she read from her phone screen. Finally, she glanced up, held up a hand, and said. “Just a minute, folks, I need just a minute.”

She ran her hand through her messy spiked hair while her pale face, void of make-up, made it obvious she wasn’t used to being in front of a camera. She finished reading from the screen, looked up, and cleared her throat. “Look, folks, I’m not qualified to be in this chair, but I’m what you get right now. At 3:47 this morning, the staff at this station suddenly collapsed and died. What little information I have leaves little hope of anyone else coming in anytime soon. At this point, I have no answers to explain the deaths, but a few people are suggesting these deaths are linked to the third vaccine push across the country. This station pushed it, so; my guess it stands to reason. I didn’t get that poison injected into my ass. Let me continue. This administration rushed it, claiming it would include the variants; well, it’s just another failure just like all the other shit lately.” She drew a deep breath and struggled to control her emotions. “So draw your own conclusions. What little we do know is, deaths are greater in large cities where the heaviest concentrations of the vaccine were administered.” Again she paused to read her phone screen.

“Right now, I’m sure of one thing, this phenomenon has occurred across major cities, the country, and from the information I just received, foreign ships are docking in Galveston as we speak. What does that mean here in Houston? Are they here to help? How could they get here so quickly unless they knew ahead of time what was going to happen? Are ships docking in other port cities? So many unanswered questions. I’ll keep asking the questions as long as I can and share what I learn. Meanwhile, I know it has been devastating for this country since the national news is offline. Find the living, be strong, and work together.”

While the young woman spoke, Annie stared at the flatscreen. “Well, that pretty well explains we’re screwed, and the government did it or allowed it to happen,” she whispered.

Annie turned down the volume and walked to the door, and looked out at the street. She listened for any hint of movement of people in the mortally wounded world. The baby began crying again with a new sense of urgency. Annie walked back to the bedroom and changed clothes. Time to put on her big girl pants.

Annie walked back into the living room. She leaned down and shook Sandy’s arm, “We have things to do if the world has gone to shit,” She announced. Sandy’s eyes fluttered as she frowned, and a tear slid from under her lashes. Annie continued. “You have to get up; we have to get that baby if she’s all alone.”

Sandy struggled to the couch. “We have to find someone to help.”

“We are someone! We’re going to do something,” Annie answered. “Come on, get to your feet, now.”

She stood, and Annie walked toward the door. She hesitated long enough to ensure Sandy followed before Annie continued out into the morning sun when she got there.

“Dogs are going to be a problem one of these days,” Anny commented as they heard the barking of dogs locked in houses down the street.

“We should let them out,” Sandy mused.

“Hell no. The dogs will be attacking people in packs before long. Better to leave as many as possible to die locked in houses,” Annie answered.

“Oh, God. I never considered that,” Sandy whispered.

It only took a couple of seconds to cross the yard to the Burtons’ house. Annie could hear the eighteen-month-old wailing inside the small track home. She looked at Sandy. “I don’t suppose you have a key?”

Sandy looked puzzled. “Why would I have a key to their house?”

“Never mind. Grab a brick from the flowerbed,” Annie ordered.

“What are you going to do?” Sandy asked.

Annie sighed, walked to the border of the flower bed, and picked up a stone. She examined the door and decided on the rectangle of glass closest to the doorknob to break. Annie tapped the windowpane, and it shattered. The crying from the baby grew even louder. Annie slid the brick around the edge to clear the shards before she stuck her hand in and turned the lock. She opened the door slowly and took a step inside.

Sandy hesitated. “I can’t,” Sandy whispered. “They’re dead.”

“Yes, you can. I’ll need your help. Go to the kitchen and find a box of trash bags or laundry basket to collect the baby stuff,” Annie ordered.

Annie pushed open the door and walked inside. After a brief hesitation, Sandy followed Annie into the house. The layout was similar to Annie’s house. Track homes were like that. She walked into the living room and turned toward a hallway to the left. Annie followed the sound of the sobbing child. She glanced at the doorway at the end of the hall but ignored it. Annie was sure she knew it held the dead parents.

She glanced into the first opened door and saw bunk beds. Annie sighed at the sight of the colorful quilt on the top bed and dark tuft of hair on a bright yellow pillow. A small boy of about five appeared to be sleeping on the bottom bunk. He looked so peaceful it was hard to imagine he would not jump up and race to the table for breakfast any minute. Annie pulled Billie and Jamie’s door closed for the last time and quickly moved to the open nursery door with Becky’s name hanging from a bright pink bow.

Annie walked to the nursery, and when the child saw her, she stopped crying and reached out. After hours of unanswered wailing, the infant would even settle for Annie. Annie picked her up, wrapped in a blanket. “Oh, poor baby girl, you’re a mess, aren’t you,” Annie crooned as she walked back into the hall with Becky in her arms. “Sandy, see if you can get a bottle for her. She’s dirty and has been a while, so I’ve got to clean her up in the bathtub,” Annie called out.

Annie carried the baby to the hall bathroom and turned on the bathwater. She pulled a towel off the rack, set the baby down, and peeled off her filthy sleeper and poopy diaper. Once put in the warm water, the infant stopped fussing for a few minutes. Annie quickly washed the crusty brown mess covering her from waist to ankles, wrapped little Becky in a towel, and carried her back to the nursery. By the time Annie laid the towel-wrapped baby on a daybed in the nursery, Becky had begun to whimper again.

“I got what she needs.” Sandy held out the bottle, and little Becky grabbed it greedily. “Her mother must have just gone to Sam’s; she has two cases of powdered formula in the cabinet. I put the cases by the front door. There was a couple of laundry baskets in the garage to put the other supplies in them.” Sandy looked around. “I saw a travel crib in the living room. We can take that for her, too.” Sandy pulled a bag from the closet and began gathering baby clothes, diapers, creams, and supplies. “The boys?” She asked.

“Saving grace is they didn’t suffer. Neither boy shows signs of distress,” Annie answered.

Sandy stood up. “Gil looked so peaceful,” Her voice caught. “I guess that’s something.” She sniffed as she leaned down and continued packing.

Annie grabbed a disposable diaper from the stack Sandy had set on the end of the day bed and a onesie from clothing she removed from drawers. “Get everything you can find. We’ll get plastic tubs at Walmart. More clothes too. We’ve got a few days; then we have to be out of here.”

Sandy stopped and turned to me. “What do you mean?”

“We can’t stay. We’ll see if we can find more people while gathering supplies, but we have to leave. We can’t stay this close to the city.”

“Leave?” Sandy stopped her collection and stared at Annie. “Why? We have everything we need. Supplies will never run out.”

“Do you know how awful this place will be? We have dead bodies up and down the street. This place will be beyond ripe within a week. Then the power will go out. Water will quit running, too. There will be lawlessness soon enough. By then, we need to be gone,” Annie commented.

“I can’t leave my husband like that,” Sandy protested.

Annie sighed. “Finish packing the baby clothes. We’ll discuss it later.”

“Hello? Is anyone there?” A trembling young male voice called out from the front of the house.

Annie handed Becky to Sandy. “Stay here. You hear shouting, take the baby, and hide.”

Annie walked out of the nursery and down the hall to the living room and saw a teenaged boy. He looked shell-shocked. “Hi. What’s your name? I’m Annie.”

“Josh. Josh Matthews,” He answered with a catch in his answer. “Can you help me? My family is dead. I don’t know what to do.” His face tightened as he fought the urge to cry.

He looked so lost, Annie reached out to embrace him, and he melted against her. He wrapped his arms around Annie and wept against her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Josh,” Annie whispered as she patted his back. They stood together for several minutes until he finally straightened to swipe at his wet cheeks.

“Sorry, Ms. Annie,” Josh whispered.

“It’s alright, Josh. You can stay with us. My friend Sandy and I are trying to figure this out. If you’d like, you can join us.”

Josh nodded. “I’d like that.”

Josh followed Annie to the nursery, and after introductions, they made short work of loading up the baby clothes, diapers, and everything they needed. They stopped at the family minivan and retrieved the car seat.

Josh was a lot of help. He was a big kid and bore his sadness with a strength beyond his years after the initial release. Annie imagined he played sports when she noticed the faded football jersey. It saddened her to think about his family, mother, father, and siblings. She shifted the case of formula and car seat and pushed thoughts of his family aside.

When they got to the house and dropped all the baby supplies, she turned to Sandy. “Okay, we can go get you clothes now. You can’t keep stomping around in your nightgown.”

Sandy protested. “I can’t go home.”

“My clothes won’t fit you,” Annie answered. “I’m five foot two; you’re four inches taller than me. You have no choice.”

“Can’t you go get my clothes?” Sandy begged as she clutched Becky closer.

“No. You have to decide what you want. There will be things you won’t want to leave behind. Josh can watch Becky?” Annie looked at Josh for confirmation. “You don’t mind, do you, Josh?”

“No, ma’am,” Josh answered rather sadly. “I used to babysit my…” His voice trailed off.

Annie interrupted. “Great. You know what to do. If you feel up to it, there is a girl on the news. Would you listen to her? She says this thing is around the country. I’m not sure she’ll have any more news, but maybe she might say something else useful. She said ships were docking in Houston.”

“I don’t know,” Josh answered.

“Try to; it might be important,” Annie added.

Sandy slowly rose from the couch and passed Becky to him. Josh tried to smile as he reached out with open arms. “I just changed her, so she should be good for a while. Becky might finish that bottle and go to sleep. She was screaming for quite a while,” Annie added.

“No problem.” Josh looked near tears. “I’ve changed diapers before, so if I need to, I can do that, too.”

“I’m sorry about your family, Josh. We’ll try not to be too long. You have your cell?” When he pulled it from his pocket, Annie retrieved it and put in her number. “Now, just hit send if you have any problem at all.”

“Okay,” He answered. “Thank you.

Survive Texas Dead

Posted: January 28, 2024 in NATION BETRAYED
Tags: Apocalypse, blog, horror, lights out, Orange Bitch, sci-fi, Survive Texas Dead, TORN APART SERIES, Walking Dead, Zombie

SURVIVE TEXAS DEAD, Book 3 in the “Torn Apart Series” is NOW available on Amazon and Amazon Unlimited. Order and enjoy an undead thrill ride. If you enjoy, please leave a review.
https://amzn.to/2lbtqMu

Survive Texas Dead

Chapter 1

Strength in Numbers

Liz Jameson clung to the man from Pine Springs Canyon. “You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” Liz whispered. “My father? Is he alive?”

Randy Matherson laughed. “That old goat is just fine.” He stepped back to get a better look. “You’re skinny as hell, but at least you’re alive! So glad to see you and the girls got off the base. Where are Brian and the munchkins?” He turned to the camper and called out. “Hey, Amy! Don’t I get a hello from my favorite girl?”

Liz leaned into his arms and Randy. “They’re gone!” She sobbed against his chest. “I lost them.” Her knees buckled, and she collapsed. “Brian and the girls are gone.”

Randy reached down to pull Liz into his arms and held her against his chest protectively while he glared at Harry and John. “What in the hell is she talking about? The kids and Brian are GONE? Are they dead? What’s wrong with her?” Randy demanded.

“The kids are not dead. Last time we saw them, they were with three soldiers. It’s a long story. As for Lizzy, we’ve been on the road since the day this shit happened. I think she’s exhausted, she hasn’t been eating, and then add, worrying about her family.” Harry shrugged helplessly. “For now, bring her into the camper then we can talk.”

Randy made a curt nod then followed the two strangers toward the camper. On the way, he nodded at Miguel. “Take the trucks back to that stand of Pin Oaks about ten miles down the road and set up camp. Leave room for the camper to pull along one side. Be sure to use a Dakota Fire. I don’t want the light being seen after dark. That house burning is going to draw enough attention. We don’t know who’s out there looking for survivors.”

“Sí, Senor Randy,” Miguel answered then jogged back to the three men standing at the side of the vehicles. After a brief conversation, they got into the two trucks and left.

John stepped into the camper and called out. “It’s okay kids. Come on out.”

Cody and Trace appeared in the back bedroom doorway looking a little like deer in headlights.

“This is a friend of Ms. Lizzy’s. Come sit down so we can put her in the bedroom. Cody, can you bring a couple wet towels and a bottle of water?” When Cody gave a nod and stepped into the kitchen nook, John led Randy through the camper.

“Is she dead?” Trace asked.

Harry laughed. “No, of course not. She’s just not feeling well and really tired.”

John pulled fluid-stained sheets from the bed and stretched a comforter across the bare mattress before answering. “She’ll be right as rain, soon enough.” Randy deposited Liz in the bed, and he continued. “Why don’t you two sit with her and let us know when she wakes up.”

Trace took the wet towel from her brother and laid it on Liz’s forehead. With big sad eyes, she watched the men walk to the sitting area at the front of the camper. Cody hunkered down on the floor, with his back pressed against the foot of the bed to watch the men in the room.

Harry settled his ample bulk on a bench seat and slid his hand across his thick mustache then down his beard, “My name is Harry Walters, this is John Tilman. Lizzy has had a tough time. She told us about her dad’s place up in the mountains. I take it you know each other pretty well.”

Randy nodded. “Couple years now. What happened to the girls? You said they were with soldiers?” Randy asked.

Harry sighed. “We got no way of knowing. Lizzy had to put them through a fence to protect them and led a bunch of infected away. By the time we met and made our way across a half dozen rooftops to get to the kids, they were picked up by three soldiers. The alley was getting overrun with the infected, men yelling, and then gunfire. There was no way to let them know we were even there. Anyway, we tried to follow, but we lost ‘em. We’ve been trying to find them, but they seem to have disappeared around Kerrville.”

“In other words, they’re probably dead,” Randy answered.

“No. We don’t think so. We saw a message on a trailer. It was something Lizzy recognized.” Harry continued. “Before we could check out the area we got ambushed and had to spend some time in the camper yard recuperating. Then the kids and their father showed up. Things got complicated, and we ended up here. It’s been hell convincing her she can’t keep going on like this. I put a stop to it for the baby’s sake.”

“Baby?”

“Yeah, Lizzy is pregnant.” Harry nodded.

“What about her husband, Brian?” Randy asked.

John folded his arms across his chest. “No idea. She said he warned her. She tried calling him several times when she was leaving San Antonio then they got trapped, and she lost her cell phone. I know from everything we saw on television early on, the base was overrun. We have no idea if he survived.”

“All we know now is we need to get someplace safe. We got an exhausted pregnant woman and two malnourished kids that just lost their dad.” Harry lamented. “And we’re a couple old goats too beat up for this shit.”

Randy nodded. “We’re only sixty miles from the canyon. We’ve been out searching for supplies. Tomorrow we’re making a stop in Van Horn then we’ll be heading back to Pine Springs. If you don’t mind a little side trip, we should be home before dark.”

Harry glanced through the windshield toward the collapsed house and dying fire. It had been a hot fire that burned the dry out wood quickly. “We’d better move out before the smoke draws attention.”

John cranked the engine and slipped the camper engine into gear before commenting. “We got less than half a tank of gas, but I’m pretty sure we can make it sixty miles.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah. This is a gas guzzling bitch for sure, but easier on my ass than my bike.”

“It’s settled then.” Randy directed John almost ten miles down the highway to a dirt path heading back into a thick a stand of Pin Oak, briars and scrub grass. They drove half a mile from the highway then turned sharply, into an open camp area. Randy pointed to an opening between the two vehicles. John parked the camper and turned off the engine. Randy opened the side door to the waning light of late spring. The cooling breeze was a welcome relief to the afternoon heat of the stuffy camper. Harry waved at John as he headed to the rear of the camper. “I’ll be out after I check on Liz and the kids.”

John glanced around. “Looks like a pretty good place. No main roads just through those trees I take it.” Randy looked confused, and John laughed.

Harry walked up and answered. “Inside joke. We stopped and parked in a bunch of trees one night. Figured we were good. Far enough off the road and all. The next morning our truck was surrounded by dead fucks.”

“Not something to worry about here.” Randy slapped his hands together. “I’d like to hear more about your trip, but for now let’s get busy. My guys will set up some traps at the perimeter. If you two don’t mind, we’ll split the watch three shifts, two each for four hours.”

Harry nodded in agreement. “Sounds like a plan. We can take care of that while Lizzy and the kids get a good night’s sleep. When we hit that town tomorrow, we’ll check to see if we can get filled up while you get your supplies. Might be better for Lizzy and the kids to have the air conditioning when we head out.”

Liz stood in the doorway watching the two men frowning. “So, I guess you have it all worked out?” She said crossly.

Both men turned, and Harry began. “Now, Lizzy. We’re just….”

“I know what you’re doing. You’ve decided I don’t get a say in anything that happens. When did I suddenly become a helpless female?” She railed. “This is not circling the wagons protecting the women and children time.”

“Now Lizzy. You’re in the family way and….” Harry began then grew quiet when he saw the scowl on her face.

“I think it’s time I see to making the camp.” Randy escaped with a quick nod to Liz.

John looked at Harry, then Liz and quickly followed. “Wait up I’ll help.”

Harry started to speak, but Liz held up her hand. She turned and walked back into the camp and dropped to the seat next to the table. She felt tears threatening and bit her bottom lip. The ache for her children was overwhelming.

“Ms. Liz. What’s wrong?” Trace asked sadly.

Liz took a shallow breath and squared her shoulders. “Nothing. Let’s see if I can get you a couple clean shirts and boxers. You can get cleaned up, and I’ll get your clothes washed. They’ll be dry by morning.”

An hour later Liz and the kids were clean. The water was fast moving and clear in the small creek. Using a bar of soap, clothes Liz washed shirts while John and Harry set up camp with Randy’s men. Afterward, the men sat around a small campfire getting to know each other.

“Spyders?” Randy asked. “You got that far on tricycles?”

“Fuck you, asshole.” Harry laughed. “We did alright until some assholes waylaid us on the outskirts of Odessa.”

John poked at the dying fire. “They blocked off streets, kinda random like. It looked like accidents, abandoned vehicles. Not really suspicious like. We didn’t suspect a thing. I hit the cable then it was too late. They strung a steel cable across the road and when I hit it caught between my wheel and handlebars. I think it was supposed to catch up in the wheels of a vehicle and stop it. Instead, it threw us for a loop. We managed to pick up rifles and packs from the bikes and crawl off. We made it to the edge of town and hid out in a camper lot until the kids, and their dad broke into the office. Who knows, the gang chasing them could have been the same men that attacked us.”

John looked at the camper then continued. “There was a dead fuck in the cashier’s booth with a case of water and a few candy bars laying on the counter. The kids hadn’t eaten in a couple days and were hungry. The father broke in and got bit.”

“That’s tough,” Randy answered as he rose. “Well folks, let’s get some rest, we got a big day tomorrow.”

The next morning Randy led the caravan of three vehicles to the hill overlooking Van Horn. It wasn’t much of a town. Main Street was six blocks long. At one end of the small cluster of buildings were the school, a drug store and Quick Stop while at the other was a veterinary clinic, a single island gas station and Rosita’s Cafe advertising fry bread and taquitos. Several buildings in between were empty storefronts. Clustered around the retail center were several dozen houses and a few large metal buildings.

Vehicles were stopped haphazardly up and down the streets. In the distance the Randy could see, a heavy-duty truck had been driven up the two steps into the glass front of the school entrance. There were neither people or infected on the streets. The small town was eerily quiet.

Randy, Harry, and Miguel met in front of Randy’s truck. “Where is everyone?” Harry asked in a hushed whisper.

“I don’t see a soul. This can’t be good.” John added.

“I don’t know if we’re lucky or not with the vet and gas station across from each other,” Harry commented.

“We’ll go to the veterinary office while you gas up that gas guzzler first. You roll into the station and with your crew. Pablo and his son will keep watch.” Randy announced.

“Sounds good. We have a dry lift siphon pump we found in the camper garage. It’s not fast but works with the ground storage. After we fill up, we’ll get inside the store and see what we can salvage.” Harry added.

Dead Texas Roads

Posted: January 28, 2024 in NATION BETRAYED

DEAD TEXAS ROADS, book 2 in the “Torn Apart Series” is NOW available on Amazon and Amazon Unlimited. Order and enjoy an undead thrill ride.
DEAD TEXAS ROADS
http://bit.ly/DeadTexasRoads_Hoaks

Dead Texas Roads

Chapter 1

Stay or Go

Phil Baker made a compelling argument for Tate and Doyle to remain at his high bluff compound in the Hill Country of central Texas. When he had finished his speech, he let the subject drop. Tate Hamilton, once a long haul truck driver, was left to mull over her options, stay at the protected refuge or leave and find her family? Phil’s retreat was a safe place to stay, but if she stayed, she would never learn the fate of her mother and sister in Houston.

Phil spun the wheels of his chair and rolled toward his wife sorting bedding for the latest arrivals. There were a lot of people to feed at Phil’s compound and sleeping arrangements to make. Phil’s family included his wife and two girls, John and Mary with two kids, Bill and Janice, Ben’s parents, and Gina, with her baby. The couples and Gina each ended up in bedrooms while the kids were left to sleep on pallets on a second story sleeping porch.

Doyle turned to Tate. “Well, what are your thoughts?”

Tate shrugged as she picked up her own quilt and walked toward the leather couch. “Guess I’ll think about it.”

Doyle and Tate, as outsiders were offered the sizeable L-shaped couch in the den. She threw her quilt over the seat and back to retrieve later if she got cold. Doyle threw a pillow on a pallet on the floor and within minutes was snoring softly.

Ben, Phil’s nephew Tate had rescued, complained he was too big to bunk with the little boys, and he didn’t want to hear the young girls chatter all night, so he opted to sleep in the den with Doyle and Tate. He curled up with an Army blanket and pillow on the short section of the sofa opposite Tate.

Tate and Doyle offered to be part of the guard rotation, but Phil declined. He announced they deserved at least one night’s sleep. John and the other guards walked outside leaving the occupants of the house to settle down for the evening. Phil disappeared to his third story look-out in a cubical on the roof, and the room grew quiet.

Tate shifted her position for the third time in as many minutes trying to get comfortable. She slid the cushion, under her butt, back in place then folded her hands behind her head while she listened to the guard’s heavy steps on the boards outside the window, as he strolled the wrap around porch. She lay awake thinking about Phil’s offer of a place to stay.

“Psst,” Ben whispered. “Tate, you awake?”

With the moonlight through the windows, Tate studied him. “Yeah. I’m awake.”

“You know, I played a lot of games on my X-box. One was killing monsters. This is like that in real life.”

“Yeah. I supposed that could sum things up pretty well,” Tate answered, wondering where the conversation was going.

“I’m not sure I can do it,” he whispered; his voice catching. “They‘re people.”

Tate swung her feet around to rest on the floor. In the moonlight, she could see Ben huddled against the arm of the couch, with tears glistening in his eyes.

“You can’t think like that. The walking-shit-bags aren’t people now. They’re just dead bodies moving because they were infected by an engineered virus.”

“But…” he whispered.

“But nothing. If you hesitate, you’ll be a danger to yourself and everyone around you. I know this sucks Ben, but you have to forget they were people and see only monsters ready to tear you and your family apart.”

“Are we going to make it?” he whispered. “I mean people. Can we recover from this?”

“All we can do is try to survive.” Tate sighed. “You need to get some rest, now. Things will have to change for sure.”

Ben slid down on his end of the couch. “I guess you’re right. Good night.”

Tate closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but instead mulled over her and Ben’s conversation until exhaustion took over.

Tate woke to the smell of coffee when dawn barely peeked through the trees. Phil’s wife, Emma, was busy in the kitchen making biscuits and white gravy with ham. By the time Phil appeared, Doyle and Tate were already moving around. When they had both gotten a cup of coffee, he asked them to follow him outside. He rolled out on the porch in his wheelchair and pointed Tate and Doyle to two woven-willow chairs.

“Have you thought about our conversation?” Phil asked.

Doyle slapped his leg and snorted. “I’ll be damned. You really want us to stay?”

“This is a big decision you’re making, considering you have known us for less than twenty-four hours,” Tate answered.

Phil nodded. “I got a chance to see you both in action. With me being in this damned chair, we’ve only got four able-bodied men, and that’s counting Ben as one of them. That’s not enough. If these people are going to survive, I have to have good people to help.”

Doyle nodded. “I ain’t got anyone expecting me; I was just looking for a place to hunker down. I’ll take you up on the offer.” He turned to Tate. “What about you, girlie?”

Tate looked at Phil, unsure of what to say. “Since I left San Antonio, I’ve been heading to my cousin’s place. It’s remote, and I’m hoping my mom and sister made it there.”

“The roads are pretty bad right now; lots of cars and dead out there. Maybe it would be safer to wait a week or two before you head out, again,” Doyle advised.

Phil added. “I don’t want to pressure you, but Doyle might be right. The roads have all the city folks trying to get somewhere safe and ending up being part of the problem. That’s exactly what happened in Bandera and Bandera Falls. Out-of-towners brought infected with them. Only took one or two to take down both towns.”

“You might be right,” Tate mumbled.

“You could stay here and wait it out.” Phil offered.

“I appreciate the offer, but you have too many people already for a four-bedroom house,” Tate answered.

Phil chuckled. “I agree, accommodations leave something to be desired. I’ve been thinking about it, too. If you help us with the housing situation, and you still want to go, I’ll add two full fifty-five-gallon drums to my previous offer. That would be an extra hundred gallons of diesel, plus supplies to get you to your family.”

“All that for a day of hauling?” Tate asked.

Phil shrugged. “Yep. That’s the deal. But if you change your mind along the way, you’re still welcome to stay.”

“What did you have in mind to solve the housing problem?” Tate asked.

“There’s row after row of FEMA trailers lined up in Boerne about twenty miles south on Hwy 46. If we could get three or four of those brought back here, it would alleviate the housing issue real quick. We’re going to have to upgrade the septic system eventually, but water is no problem. I have two wells. We’ll have to do some plumbing work and lay some piping, but otherwise, we should be alright.”

Tate laughed. “It sounds like it’s more than a couple days of work.”

“Yeah. If we can add a couple trailers full of provisions, we’d be set for months,” Phil answered.

“It looks like you’ll need a few more than that,” Doyle pointed toward the gate. “Look outside the gate.”

Tate and Phil turned toward the gate and saw three vehicles sitting outside the wrought iron barrier. John and Bill with rifles in hand rushed out of the house and up to where Phil sat staring at a pickup, van and sedan.

John asked, “What are we going to do about them?”

Phil reached for the wheels on his chair and rolled toward the gate. “John, you and Bill cover us.” Both Tate and Doyle followed Phil.

A man with a bat in his hand stepped out of the front vehicle. His eyes darted from left to right as if expecting an attack at any moment.

Phil rolled up to within a dozen feet of the gate and looked out at the three vehicles. Doyle and Tate stood on either side.

Outside the gate sat a relatively new Ford F-150, a minivan, and an old Chevy Impala. Tate stepped away about ten feet from Phil to get a better look at the occupants. There were two men still sitting in the truck the leader had been driving. In a light green minivan smeared with blood set a young couple with the heads of two small children peeking over the front seats. The Impala sat behind the van with an old man wearing a baseball cap and a gray-haired woman at his side. The back seat seemed to be filled with boxes and stacks of supplies.

Phil scowled at the man outside the gate. “George, what do you want?”

“Your little escapade at the ball field yesterday burned down the Electric Co-op. A bunch of us were staying there. We need a place to stay.”

“Who’s in this WE, you’re talking about?” Phil asked.

Tate turned at the sound of running steps behind them. Ben followed by John and Bill raced to Phil’s side. Ben cupped his hand and whispered something at Phil.

George opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted when Phil demanded. “What are you trying to pull? You have more vehicles down the hill from my property.”

The driver of the Impala stepped out of the car and walked up to the gate. “Shut up, George. I told you this was not a good idea.” The old man turned to the gate. “Phil, twenty of us got out of the co-op. We got women and children and have nowhere else to go.”

Phil nodded at Ben, John, and Bill. “Call them up here. Pull up to the gate, one at a time. The vehicles will sit outside until we bring ‘em in one at a time. Everyone gets checked for bites before they step through the gate.”

George started to protest, but Phil raised his hand. “My place, my rules.”

“I’m the mayor of Bandera –” George protested.

“And this ain’t Bandera! Anyone don’t like my terms, turn around and go back down the bluff.”

The portly, old man looked at George, one last time before calling out. “The wife and I agree to your terms, Phil. I’m sure the rest will.” He turned to George and added, “If you got a problem with it, George, pull aside, and let us start lining up at the gate.”

George got in his truck and pulled to the turn-around at the side of the wrought iron fence. He parked the F-150 but stayed behind the wheel.

The old man headed back to his vehicle, stopping to speak to the couple in the mini-van on his way. The green van rolled up to the gate, both front doors opened, and the man herded his wife and two children to the gate. Quietly, without a word, the couple stripped to underclothes and turned around slowly, then dressed and undressed the kids. Phil nodded to Ben, and the gate rolled open.

The woman picked up the kid’s clothes and hurried to the passenger door with the kids in tow. They jumped inside and the man drove through the gate. Ben closed the barrier behind the van.

“Stop!” Emma Nolan stormed through the front door of the house. “Phillip Nolan! You will not do what I just saw, again!” She yelled at the open windows of the van, “I’m sorry!”

John waved the van to the side the compound. The Impala moved to the closed gate and stopped. Three more vehicles rolled up behind the Impala.

Emma rushed to Tate and pushed a handful of sheets into her arms. “We’re civilized human beings and will not be traumatizing women and children. No more strip searches for women in front of all these men. We’ll do the inspection behind these sheets.” She turned to Phil with a pointed glare.

Phil held up his hand in surrender and called out for two pieces of rebar. A minute later, Ben ran across the yard with two six foot lengths of metal.

Emma crossed her arms and John rolled back the gate wide enough to walk through. Tate joined him with the stack of sheets in hand. She tied a corner of fabric to a spiked length of wrought iron fencing then another about five feet away. She tied two more sheets, at either corner. By then, John had pushed both pieces of rebar into the ground. Tate tied the ends of the second and third pieces of fabric to the stakes. She used the fourth sheet to finish off the enclosure. When she was finished, she had a sheeted enclosure.

The older couple got out of the car, and the woman grinned at Emma. “Bless you, dear. I appreciate this.” The woman stepped into the enclosure and a few minutes later called out, “I’m ready.”

Emma tapped Tate’s shoulder. “That’s you, dear.” She turned to hurry back to the house.

Cringing, Tate stepped to the sheet and pulled back the edge of the sheet that allowed her to peek inside.

The old woman smiled. “It’s alright, honey. I ain’t got nothing you haven’t seen in the mirror.” She made a slow turn and at Tate’s quick nod, began redressing.

Tate turned back to Phil and gave him a thumbs-up. The Impala entered the compound and parked next to the mini-van. The elderly woman joined the young family on a nearby picnic table in the shade of a large oak.

The occupants of three more vehicles went through the inspection, then came through the gate. Only the F-150 sat outside. The old man walked up to Phil. “Don’t know if you remember me, Phil, I’m Bradley Wilson. I’m not much for telling tales, but you better be careful with George. He’s losing it.”

“Who’s with him?” Phil asked.

“His two boys,” Bradley answered.

“You can’t leave us out here,” George called out from the window of the F-150.

Phil called out, “You know what it takes to come in.”

“I got my boys. I’m in charge of this group,” George protested. “I need to be in there to take care of them.”

“Do what I ask then,” Phil demanded.

Finally, George spoke to his sons, then slowly stepped out of the truck. Both younger men followed. They stepped up to the gate and began removing clothes. Following their father’s instructions, they unbuttoned their shirts and removed them then loosened their belts and pants to pulled them to their knees. Meanwhile, George stepped out of his loafers, then pulled off his shirt, and his pants down. He scowled as he turned around.

Phil nodded, then rolled over to the boys.

The older of the two young men appeared to be in his late teens or early twenty’s while the other looked no more than fifteen. The older had stripped off his shirt and pulled down his pants to hang around his knees, then stood without turning. The younger man stepped out of his boots, then slipped off his pants. He did a quick turn, and when he saw Phil scowl, he turned again more slowly.

After looking over George and his younger son, Phil gave the man a quick nod then turned back to the older brother and sighed, “Boots off. I want to see your legs and feet.”

The young man turned to his father, and George protested, “Damn-it! This is bullshit! Open the fucking gate!”

Against Living and Dead

Posted: November 14, 2023 in TORN APART SERIES

Chapter 1

Trapped

“We’ve been locked in this hospital for months with all this shit going on,” Carolyn Marks whined. “So, what the hell are we going to do?”

Lilly Sanders pushed damp, dark hair out of her face and answered. “Keep doing what we’ve been doing. We’ve got more supplies from the cafeteria storeroom.”

“You know they’ll run out eventually.” Carolyn brushed her arm across her damp forehead. “We can’t stay here forever.”

“I know. You’re speaking to the choir,” Lilly answered.

Carolyn looked around to make sure no one was listening. “I think about leaving, but I know I wouldn’t make it to my car. I saw that herd of monsters out there. Besides, I don’t know where I’d go; my family’s dead. I heard the screaming that first night.”

“I’m sorry,” Lilly looked out the window. “My family was in Houston. I doubt they made it out of there. They lived in Midtown. No way they would have gotten out of the city when the infection hit there.”

Carolyn sighed as she looked at her watch. “I guess I’d better get to my session with Dr. Appleton. Don’t want me to try offing myself again.” Carolyn forced a laugh.

“You won’t do that. We all have had our moments of weakness,” Lilly responded.

“Maybe, but y’all don’t act on it. I did,” Carolyn answered as she walked away.

Lilly watched Carolyn walk away, then Lilly turned back to the ward of surviving vets. Out of the two hundred and fifty-three in the hospital, only twenty-two had survived by the end of the second week, when the backup power failed. She took care of six of those men.

Lilly forced a smile on her face and walked into the ward. “Morning, guys. How’s it going?”

“Living the dream,” answered Sargeant Max Bailey with a wave. “Come give me my morning kiss, gorgeous.” He grinned.

“You know, I’ve got a husband waiting at home,” Lilly retorted with a forced chuckle. They knew he was probably dead, but Max continued the joke that began almost five months ago.

“My loss,” Max looked down in bogus sadness. “Oh well, I’ll settle for a sponge bath.” He looked up with a grin and a mock lear.

“Oh my God,” Lilly laughed. “You’re encourageable.”

“Give her a bre-ak,” Neal Bishop laughed. His head reared back in good humor. “Pay no attention to that fool, Nurse Lilly.” Bishop coughed.

“No problem at all, Bishop. I’ve got his number. He’s a player,” Lilly laughed.

Bishop survived burns on over sixty percent of his body from an exploding fuel tank when his vehicle ran over an IED. No one thought he’d make it, but he did. When the power went out, they thought Bishop would be one of the first to die but a determination to survive brought him through. That and careful care by Lilly and the remaining staff. Now Bishop was the clown of the ward still wrapped in gauze on thirty percent of his body.

“We getting breakfast this morning?” Jasper Belcher asked.

“Of course,” Lilly answered. “It’ll be coming up anytime now. Ms. Harriet is working on it; it takes time to get it brought up here.”

“More of those damned plastic eggs. Fucking tired of that shit,” Jasper, a black kid barely twenty years old who’d lost both legs above his knees, complained.

“Enough, Jasper, they’re doing the best they can,” Bishop interrupted Jasper’s complaining.

“Shut the hell up; we’re all fucked. They’ll have another outbreak, and the staff will take off and leave our asses sitting here, dumbass,” Jasper snapped.

“I will be walking and le-ave your sor-ry ass,” Bishop responded. “You complain too, mu-ch.” He snorted, then began coughing again.

Lilly raised her hand as she studied Bishop with concern. “Quit bickering, boys. Time to wash up for breakfast.” She began moving from bed to bed. Lilly poured a pitcher of hot water into a small plastic pan, then retrieved and passed each patient a clean washcloth and hand towel. While they cleaned up, Lilly filled a pitcher with water on each bedside table.

“Pretty stingy with the water, Nurse Rachet,” Complained Jasper.

“Sorry about that, but lugging up five-gallon buckets of hot water is a bit of a struggle these days,” Lilly responded and moved to the next patient. “We’ve only got two orderlies left now. It’s hard to get enough water up to this floor.”

“Give the bitching a rest, Jasper. They’re doing the best they can,” Max yelled.

“Fuck you!” Jasper cursed.

“Enough!” Lilly interrupted. “You get what you get. Any complaints, get your ass out of bed and get your own,” She snapped. “We’re doing the best we can. If you don’t like it, call your local Democrat congressman. Excuse me, congressperson. I’m sure they’ll rush right over.”

Lilly picked up a washcloth and handed it to Jasper so he could wash his face and body. When they finished their ministrations in silence, she emptied the water from the pans and returned washcloths to the end of each bed, along with towels.

“I’ll check on breakfast,” Lilly said, then pushed the cart from the ward with her back stiff, and jaw clenched. Once in the hall, she pressed her back to the wall and slid to the floor to let tears escape. “I can’t keep doing this,” Lilly whispered. She wrapped her arms around her dingy scrubs and wept.

“We have to,” A gentle voice answered. “We have no choice, honey.”

Lilly looked up and wiped her face. “Oh, Harriet. I’m sorry. I’m a baby feeling sorry for myself.”

“Nonsense. It’s that Jasper boy again, ain’t it?” Harriet asked. “He an unhappy young man. He should be thanking his God he’s still alive,” Harriet answered.

“Jasper’s right. If the infected break into this hospital section, he’s in real trouble. We don’t have enough non-disabled people to save everyone,” Lilly responded.

“Then he should be getting his butt out of bed and doing something about it,” Harriet advised.

“I agree,” Lilly echoed. “We have several men walking now that couldn’t walk before. They were lucky to be on this wing.”

“This is the wing to do that. We have the equipment, and people are still here to get them on their feet and moving. They should be focused on that every day, all day long. Every one of those men should be working on walking.” Harriet said.

“Maybe you need to talk to them, Harriet,” Lilly suggested.

“Maybe I should. In the meantime, I need to get breakfast,” Harriet answered. “You go get some fresh air. “I take care of this.”

Harriet walked into the ward with a frown on her face. She stepped inside and stood there glaring at the group of six men ending her perusal on Jasper. “You a sorry-looking bunch. Y’all layin’ up like you need curb service. I’m telling you something. You disgust me, and you,” Looking at Jasper with a stern glare. “You disgust me most of all. Your eyes look like my departed son, but that’s where it ends. He was a brave man. You are a coward. Lay up, waiting to get eaten. Well, I’m ready to toss you out a window to give you your wish.”

Jasper looked up, horrified. “But…”

“You been giving those girls a hard time. It ends now. I hear more, I come back, and you go out the window. Do you boys understand?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jasper whispered.

“Excuse me?” Harriet demanded.

“Yes, ma’am,” Several voices announced.

“Next, I want to see you out of bed. We done coddling, you boys. I serve meals at the table. End of story. No exception.” Harriet smiled as she walked to the first bed and pulled a tray to place it on the table. “Eat up. Each of you got work to do.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Max smiled. “I’ve been working on it.” He leaned down and picked up his prosthetic to prove a point.

Harriet moved to the other patients, and each agreed to be ready for the next meal as requested. Finally, Henrietta turned at the door with the meals delivered. “No more complaints. We’re all doing the best we can.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Max smiled. “I’ll see to it.” He held up the prosthetic for his leg one last time.”

Lilly and George Ortega, the physical therapist, arrived on the ward about an hour later to find a new attitude. Five of the men were ready to practice using the new prosthetics built by George in recent weeks. He had retrieved prosthetics from soldiers that had lost their lives when the hospital fell. When the staff fought back and sealed the hospital wing, he recovered prosthetics while disposing of bodies. Since then, he had worked diligently to refit the units to the surviving soldiers. In some cases, with a twist since the fabrication department was on the wing where they now resided.

“Well, I see we’re all ready for a day of work,” George, the stocky Hispanic man, announced with a grin.

“Hey, Ortega! I’m ready for a go-round with a zombie,” Max snarked.

“How about walking across the room first instead?” George responded.

“Got it covered,” Max laughed.

“That is the goal for everyone this week. No exceptions,” George looked at Jasper in his bed as he headed toward the black youth’s bed. Jasper gave a slight nod but remained silent. Both prosthetics rested against the stump of his thighs, ready to be pushed into place.

George checked the strap and nodded. “Good job, Jasper. Let’s get those legs on,” He straightened the sock on the stump, then grabbed the first molded cup and pushed the prosthetic into place. “Feel good?”

“Fine?” Jasper answer.

George repeated the process and pulled Jaspers’s legs around to the edge of the bed. “Time to get to work, young man.” He grabbed a walker from the foot of the bed. “You can do this. I’ll be right behind you.”

Lilly pulled walkers and canes out for soldiers, then ensured each prosthetic was well seated and ready for their therapy session. Afterward, she went from patient to patient to check their progress as they walked across the ward.

“Doing great, Max, James. Sam, Juan, it’s not a race. Take your time,” Lilly encouraged as she moved between them. “Careful. The last thing you want to do is have an accident and lose your balance getting used to the prosthetics after the latest adjustments.”

“Hey, I’m almost ready to dance!” Max called out.

Bishop laughed from his bed. “I saw you dancing before you lost your leg, Sarge. It wasn’t pretty. What makes you think a peg leg will make it any better?”

“Roll you red ass out of bed, and I’ll chase you around this ward, Fry Boy,” Max chided.

“I managed to get out of bed when it counted, with a bunch of those chompers chasing me.” Bishop laughed. “I made it out of the burn ward when no one else did.”

“Yeah, you’ve opened up wounds that still need time to heal. So you’re confined to bed until the worst of them have a chance to close back up,” Lilly argued. “I’ve heard enough out of you, Max. Get to walking.”

Max laughed. “Okay, I’ll quit baiting Fry Boy.”

“Maybe I’d better watch that rowdy bunch,” George told Lilly. “If you’ll help Jasper, I’ll keep them out of mischief.”

“Works for me,” Lilly deliberately turned her attention to Jasper. The young man leaned into the handrails of the walker, and his weight settled into his prosthetics. He teetered for a moment, straightened his back, and squared his shoulders.

“Find your balance, Jasper. It’s been a while,” Lilly whispered.

Beads of moisture appeared on Jasper’s forehead; his arm muscles, tense with strain, then began to relax. “That’s it. Raise your right leg. The prosthetic is your lower leg. The shoe will provide traction. Now try it.”

“It’s heavy,” Jasper said as he struggled to pull it back under him.

“Pull your foot back under you, then do the other side. Yes, your upper legs have lost some muscle tone. I’m going to give you some weights, and you can start using them to rebuild some of that muscle,” Lilly advised.

Lilly pushed him to repeat the process with each leg half a dozen times. By then, Jasper was soaking wet and huffing with exertion. He looked at Lilly with pleading eyes.

“I’m beat,” he claimed.

Lilly smiled. “You did good, Jasper. I’ll be back this afternoon to bring the weights. I expect you to use them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jasper answered as he settled back on the bed.

Lilly pulled off the prosthetics and examined each stump for redness or pressure points. Then, she picked up a bottle of alcohol and gave each leg a rubdown. “This will toughen the skin.”

“Now, you see what I’ve done. I expect you to take care of yourself from now on. Your health depends on the self-care of your stump. A blister or sore spot can become infected overnight. That can leave you helpless or a burden on others—time to learn to take care of yourself,” Lilly advised. “You take care of the sock and wipe out the cup with alcohol too. Keep it all clean. Any question?” She handed Jasper the bottle and a few gauze pads to complete the task.

“No, ma’am,” Jasper answered. “I understand.”

“I’m glad. I’m sorry, but I think our days here are numbered. We have to be ready,” Lilly looked at the rest of the men in the ward. The rest of the men shuffled across the room—all except Max. Max barely used the cane he now held. She wished it was comforting, but she was worried. Thirty people at the VA hospital in Kerrville had survived until now, but she was afraid their luck was running out soon.

Fatal Shot, Book 1 Nation Betrayed

Posted: April 8, 2022 in Fatal Shot Book 1, NATION BETRAYED