Prehistoric Survival | Book 1 | Doomed City

by Sander, K. G.

  “Just give me the fucking morphine,” Becky sobbed. “Please. Just snow me. Put me out.”

  The medic gave John a look, and John nodded. They’d make her high, but they wouldn’t knock her out.

  The backup generators wouldn’t last forever, and if they put her right out, someone would have to breathe for her with a bag. And they couldn’t afford the manpower right now.

  John put the tourniquet around Becky’s bicep. It was so damn hot. John angrily brushed the sweat away from his eyes and looked for a vein.

  “You got one?” The medic asked, looking gravely across Becky’s body, writhing in pain.

  “Can’t fucking see,” John said, gritting his teeth and trying to wipe the sweat away. He couldn’t steady his heart, so couldn’t steady his hands.

  “Here,” the medic said, stepping across Becky’s legs and squatting beside John. “She’s not one of mine. Let me try.”

  John wanted to argue, but he knew the medic was right. Something happened when you knew the patient. It was just harder to do the job. The medic didn’t know Becky, so his hands would be steadier. John handed over the eighteen-gauge cathelon and stepped back. The medic furrowed his brow and, with a steady motion, started the IV.

  “Got flash,” he said as he attached the extension that Abby held out for him.

  John twisted the needle off the morphine syringe and handed it to the medic. He quickly pushed it into her arm.

  Becky’s groans soon became quieter, and they stood.

  “Okay,” John said. “Okay, we need to get her out of here.”

  “Well, what are we supposed to do?” The old woman with the infected toe asked. “I can’t get ahold of my daughter to come and pick me up.”

  “What the fuck was that?” Another person asked.

  Soon, they were surrounding John and asking questions. John tried to push through the throng, to lead them away from Becky so they didn’t touch her legs, but it was no use.

  The medic pushed his way and stood beside John, trying to protect Becky and her legs.

  “I don’t know,” John said, “Just please be careful of her.”

  The throng pushed forward, panic making the people act in a way they never would have alone. Or in a normal situation. But this wasn’t a normal situation. A fucking Pterodactyl lay dead inside the middle of the Emergency waiting room. Not a normal day at work by a long shot.

  “SHUT UP!” John yelled. He’d had it. All of it.

  The throng subsided, surprised by the harshness in his voice.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL OF YOU! You think I know what to fucking do?” He looked around at them, and some had the decency to look away. “There’s a fucking dinosaur in the middle of the waiting room. I’m guessing everyone had that weird feeling at ten ’til noon?”

  The fear of those around him as they nodded seeped into John, and his anger left as fast as it had come.

  “Look,” he said calmly, “I’m at a loss. I know that we don’t have any communications. The phones are dead, the WiFi is down and I don’t have any cellphone bars. I’m assuming nobody else does either?”

  Some nodded, some looked at their phones to confirm.

  “So, all I can think of is to move the furniture to block off the windows so one of… those,” he gestured towards the giant leather skinned bird that took up most of the waiting room, “doesn’t get in. Until we figure out what’s going on.”

  People nodded in unison.

  “We’re going to move Becky out of here,” John said. Another medic, who was holding back for the order, rushed forward with a spine board. “Then you all can get to work boarding up the windows.”

  “Why can’t you help us first?” Someone demanded.

  The anger was hot and biting. “Look, she risked her fucking life to save us while we were running. The least we could do is get her fucking comfortable.”

  There was no answer. No one could argue. John stormed through the crowd and they parted, letting him through. He went to triage, followed closely by the medic who’d started the IV, leaving a couple other paramedics to load Becky onto a spine board and take her to the trauma rooms.

  “Chad,” the medic said, holding his hand out.

  “John.”

  “Figured you might as well know my name, considering we’re stuck in this shit show together,” Chad whispered.

  “Your radio working?” John asked, nodding towards the mic hooked to the medic’s epaulet.

  Chad shook his head. To demonstrate, he held the button down to talk, sending a high- pitched tone out of the mic.

  “Nope. The landlines?”

  “Bust,” John said. A couple of young medics carried the stoned Becky out of the emergency room in front of them. Hannah holding her limp hand.

  The twenty people in the waiting room started, to their credit, to stack furniture in front of the windows.

  “Look,” Chad said, “I know you don’t know what’s going on but…”

  “I think I might know who might,” John said. “But I have no way of getting a hold of my wife.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  York

  York followed at a safe distance.

  The rag-tag group, made up of a bunch of bitches he used to manage, meandered through the abandoned cars.

  York knew that the bitch Maggie had heard him yelling for her to stop. There’s no way she didn’t. He’d survived by luck alone, launching himself to the side as the Triceratops mauled a TA who’d been running beside him.

  His loss. York thought quicker than most of them. He’d rule this city. He knew that it would be chaos, and, from the looks of it, they were trapped alone in this world.

  The supercollider had made a wormhole. They were either trapped in the past, or in another dimension. York didn’t know, and he didn’t care.

  “Shit,” he said, stepping into a giant puddle between the cars.

  The smell hit him as he removed his foot. He’d smelled it multiple times when forced to visit his grandmother as a child.

  Piss.

  The puddle was huge, running between the two rows of abandoned cars.

  T-Rex piss.

  A sob caught him by surprise, and York jumped and turned, both feet landing in the urine.

  “Shit,” he said again. The group in front of him didn’t hear, and he monitored them. He couldn’t lose them. Stealing their food and weapons was the only way he’d survive.

  A crushed car lay beside him, all wheels flat.

  “Please,” A woman’s voice, coming from inside the car. “Please. I know someone is out there. Please help. My leg is caught and I’m so thirsty.”

  York stood in the T-Rex piss for a moment, then scurried away.

  “Please!” The woman sobbed from behind him. “Please. I have kids. Just help me get to my kids.”

  York ran. The noise she was making would draw predators. He had to get away. The woman would most likely die, anyway. Sepsis would set in. York had read enough research on what happened to cities after a natural disaster. The hospitals would be overrun. Disease and famine would sweep through the city, leaving only the strong to survive.

  He’d made a tough choice, leaving the woman there. But it was a choice he had to make.

  Only the strong survive.

  And York knew he was the strongest.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Officer Bennett Kura

  Bennett took the exit to College Drive. He knew that Jake’s brother worked at St. Paul’s. He wanted to head there to tell him in person. Jake’s husband was on a plane, so Bennett planned to meet him at the airport.

  Pull the band-aid off, hard and fast.

  Kevin was a Police Officer’s husband, one of the family. He deserved to be told first. But he wasn’t here, and Bennett couldn’t keep this to himself.

  He should tell his supervisors. He should sound the alarm.

  But, with an aching heart, he couldn’t. He’d met Kevin on multiple occasions. Was even in contact with him to tr
ack Jake’s drinking. Jake may think Bennett was a kiss ass, but he still invited Bennett over for meals and to talk about cases.

  Hell, the only way that Bennett had made Detective was because Jake took him under his wing.

  Bennett wiped a tear from his eyes and crossed Preston Ave.

  He couldn’t walk into John’s emergency room to tell him his brother was dead with tears in his eyes. No, he had to be strong. For Jake. For Jake’s family.

  Bennett turned the radio up to listen to the news.

  “Here on channel 102.1 Rock FM, we’d like to tell you not to take Circle. Big wreck there, hey Clint?”

  “Right,” the radio host replied. “Do not take Circle if you want to get anywhere during the rest of the day.”

  Bennett slammed the power button on his dash. He didn’t need to hear some asshole radio hosts talk about shit they knew nothing about.

  The clock on his dash hit 11:50 as he stopped at a red light in front of the University parkade.

  He had twenty minutes to get to St. Paul’s then to the airport. It would be tight, but Air Canada was always late, so he’d have-

  He couldn’t finish the thought.

  The air escaped his lungs in one breath, and his head swam. It felt like his brain was being squeezed out of his eyes.

  Not another migraine. Not here. Not now.

  But this wasn’t like any migraine he’d ever had.

  The air felt electric, like shocking himself in an outlet. The squeezing wouldn’t stop, and Bennett had trouble keeping his foot on the brake of his squad car.

  He was yelling, but he couldn’t hear himself.

  His world focused into a pinhole.

  He was dying. It felt like dying. He’d never died before, but this was it. The stress of five years on the job had done it. He was having an aneurysm, and he was dying.

  Then, as fast as it started, the pinhole cleared, the world refocused, and the electricity in the air disappeared. Bennett was left gasping in his squad car, confused and recovering from the pain.

  He looked to his left to see a woman in a van looking as in pain and confused as he was.

  “You’re a Police Officer, dammit,” he told himself, shaking his head. “Get out there and figure it out.”

  He needed to tell dispatch where he was. A quick look around showed people rubbing their heads, a couple students rising from their knees, looking around. A girl, dressed in running clothes covered in what looked like dried coffee stains, was trying to pick up her books that lay strewn around her.

  His MDT showed only static.

  “What the fuck,” he mumbled, hitting the power button on the computer and shutting it down.

  He hit it again, and the computer rebooted, showing static again.

  “Fucking junk,” he mumbled, smacking the side. When that didn’t work, he wrenched open the door of his squad car. “Fucking garbage.”

  He tapped the mic button of his radio. The long, annoying monotone of no radio communication echoed through his earpiece.

  “Fuck.”

  The woman from the van beside him exited her vehicle. “Stay in your vehicle, ma’am,” Bennett called.

  “Did you feel that?” She called back.

  “Just stay in your vehicle,” he called. A fender bender had occurred at the intersection, and Bennett needed to go and check it out.

  “I’m just saying that if everyone had felt that, maybe there’s a gas leak or something.”

  “I’m going to check these people out,” Bennett said, pointing to the two cars in the middle of the intersection. The wreck wasn’t bad, just a bumper hit, but Bennett needed the soccer mom to shut up.

  “I’m just saying-”

  “Ma’am,” Bennett commanded, raising his voice. “Get back into your vehicle. Now.”

  The woman didn’t respond. Instead, she looked overhead, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Do you… Do you see that?”

  Bennett followed her eyes.

  He didn’t get to answer her.

  The giant Pterodactyl swooped down and picked the woman up by the midriff.

  She screamed as the giant soared away with her in its beak, wingspan an easy 10 meters across. The scream startled the monster, and it dropped her from fifty feet in the air.

  Bennett didn’t see her hit the ground, but he heard the godawful thud.

  “GET INSIDE!” He yelled, turning and running to the side of the road, grabbing the girl in the stained running outfit and pulling her with him. “GET INSIDE!” He called again to anyone that would listen.

  Focused on the door of the U of S gymnasium, Bennett ran, dragging the confused student with him.

  Other’s soon followed.

  A screech sounded from above them. The door was only thirty feet away.

  “We can make it,” he called to the girl. She wrenched free of his arm and started sprinting to the door. Unburdened, he sprinted after her.

  The sky grew dark.

  The bird was diving.

  “HURRY!” The girl called, holding the door open.

  Bennett dove.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kevin

  “Looks like we are going to be early, folks,” the Captain said over the intercom. “The time is twelve-thirty, and we have been given the go ahead by the terminal to begin landing procedures. Flight attendants please prepare for landing. You all have yourself a great time in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan on a balmy day in May.”

  Kevin raised his table tray, excitement coursing through him. Sarah-Lynn was right, he and Jake were just going through a phase. It was nothing they couldn’t handle. Hell, they’d handled a lot together. Both their careers taking off at the same time was something to be celebrated.

  Kevin needed to buy them a nice bottle of gin to celebrate. And, like Sarah-Lynn said, phones off.

  The wheels lowered underneath the plane, and Kevin’s heart beat a little faster. He wasn’t a fan of landings or takeoffs. Statistically, that was when the most crashes occurred.

  Kevin leaned back and closed his eyes. Soon, he’d be with Jake. And everything would be alright.

  Captain Zach Hopkins couldn’t tell what he was seeing. Control had given him permission to land on A10, and it was time for his co-pilot to prove her worth.

  “Ona, take control,” Zach said, removing his hands from the controls.

  Ona nodded and started confidently flipping switches on the dash. She was ready to rock, and pride welled in Zach.

  They descended through the clouds, and Zach’s heart dropped.

  “Pull-up, pull-up, pull-up,” Zach gasped, grabbing the controls and pulling up, Ona doing the same.

  Sweat poured, stress high. They both gritted their teeth and guided the 747 back into the air.

  “What the hell is going on?” Ona gasped, wiping the sweat off her brow.

  “I don’t know,” Zach said. “We need to reroute to Regina. Lots of these people were going home.”

  Ona looked at him, “How do we tell them? How do we tell them there’s nothing?”

  Zach looked at the giant hole in the ground that used to be Saskatoon. There was nothing left, just a ten-foot-deep crater where the City of Bridges used to exist. The water that used to run in the South Saskatchewan river that cut through the heart of the city poured into the crater from the west, the new waterfall misting as the water pounded against the earth below.

  “It’s gone,” Ona breathed. “Zach, how the hell is it just gone?”

  “Take us above the clouds,” he answered. “Don’t let them see any more. Get on the radio with YQR, tell them we’re coming with an emergency landing.” He rose, removing his headset, trying to breathe deeply and not think about his aunt in the city, the woman he was supposed to have dinner with after landing today.

  “Where are you going?” Ona asked. “Zach, I know your aunt lived in Saskatoon and you guys were close. I’m sorry-”

  “I’m going to talk to the passengers,” Zach interrupted. He couldn’t focus on tha
t right now. He needed to land this plane safely and make sure his passengers arrived on the ground safe and sound. That was his job, and dammit, he’d do his job.

  “What are you going to say?” Ona asked.

  “I’ll think of something.”

  Kevin closed his eyes as the plane jostled and bounced. This was a rough landing. Suddenly, his heart dropped into his knees as the plane banked steeply upwards. Gripping his armrests, Kevin didn’t have time to question what was happening as the plane climbed. A soft hand gripped his, and he opened his eyes. Sarah-Lynn had her eyes closed as well. White-knuckled, ashen faced, she looked how Kevin felt: terrified.

  As suddenly as the incline, the plane levelled out above the clouds. Kevin opened his eyes and looked around, confused. He wasn’t the only one on the plane to do so.

  “What the hell?” Someone asked.

  “Was anyone else looking out the window?”

  “I was!”

  “Did you see-”

  “There’s nothing!” A panicked voice answered. “It’s a crater!”

  “What?”

  “Terrorists!”

  “All of it is gone?”

  The captain stepped into the main cabin, and everyone grew silent.

  “We have had to make an emergency ascent,” the Captain said.

  Kevin noticed the stress that exuded from the Captain.

  Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

  Part IV

  Narrowing Beam

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Kennedy

  Kennedy hit the ground with a roll, wincing slightly in pain as her knee scraped the concrete.

  “Shit,” she muttered, giving a quick look over her shoulder to make sure there were no adults around. Her mom would not approve of her newfound word.

  The coast was clear. There was no one in the park other than her. She should be in school. Her mom would be so mad if she knew she was skipping.