Surviving Hell (Hell Virus Book 2)

by Kit Tunstall

  I nodded grudgingly as I stood there, lifting my arms out at my side. My breath hissed through my teeth when pain shot through me as I stretched my right arm. His gaze went straight to the injury, and he looked concerned. “What happened?”

  “I caught it on something.” I couldn’t tell him the truth. If I mentioned anything about the government searching for me, or what was left of the government anyway, I was sure he’d send me on my way. I couldn’t blame him, but I also knew I couldn’t survive on my own. I had no training and no skills, and like most of the world, I’d been completely unprepared for something like HLV to come along. If he sent me away, I’d either end up dying on my own alone, or I’d be recaptured. Neither option was a good one; they both seemed equally bad.

  His hands moved quickly and efficiently over me, and I was slightly surprised by my own sense of disgruntlement to find he didn’t linger anywhere. I definitely shouldn’t want a stranger to grope me, especially after Briggs had attacked me earlier yesterday, trying to rape me. The thought of any man’s hands on me should be enough to freeze me in fear, or make me want to vomit.

  On the other hand, this man appeared to be nothing like creepy Captain Briggs, and I couldn’t pretend like I didn’t find him attractive. I certainly did, but I was smart enough to try to hide that fact. I still didn’t know if I could trust these people any more than I could trust the group I had escaped from yesterday.

  He took my arm in a solicitous manner as he led me into the camp, the other man with the gun moving to block the space we had just entered. I looked around, discovering it was all fairly humble, but it looked pretty good compared to the view I’d had for the last year.

  He led me to one of the large tents, holding the flaps so I could step inside.

  I immediately recognized I was in their makeshift infirmary. There were stockpiles of bandages and medication, along with an exam room fashioned from draped sheets and a metal table.

  A pretty black woman stood up from behind a desk and smiled at both of us. “What’s up, Ben?”

  So now I had a name for him. Ben.

  “We have a guest, Grace. This is…” He trailed off, cocking his eyebrow in my direction.

  “Sofia Vargas,” I said before frowning. Maybe I should have used a different name? It wasn’t like the old world, where there’d be electronic records tracking me, but if anybody from the group at Fort Glacier heard my name, they’d know where to find me. It was too late now though.

  “How do you do, Sofia?” The woman held out her hand, shaking my uninjured left hand, since my right arm hung awkwardly at my side. “What happened?”

  “I caught it on something.”

  “Let’s take a look at it.” She looked over at Ben. “Why don’t you bring our guest some food while I take care of this?” The request was somewhere between deferential and commanding, making it difficult for me to discern exactly who was in charge.

  Grace led me to the metal exam table, and I climbed up. I winced as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage, cursing softly when the gauze stuck to the exposed area.

  She frowned as she laid a damp cloth over the top of it. “We need to soak the gauze off, or it’s going to hurt a lot more when I remove it.”

  I nodded, sitting there awkwardly as I waited for the gauze to get wet enough to separate from my skin. It was hard to believe that I once knew how to carry on a conversation and had been considered extroverted and outgoing. Now, I just felt awkward and completely out of place. I didn’t know if my social skills were rusty, or if I was just so deeply mistrustful of my fellow human beings these days that I couldn’t be bothered to make small talk.

  The gauze came off a few minutes later with only a little bit of pain. Grace examined the wound for a moment before looking at me. “What exactly did you catch yourself on?”

  “A knife.” I provided no further detail, hoping she would infer someone else had done it to me. I really didn’t want to explain if I could help it, and I wasn’t certain how patient-confidentiality laws applied in this new post-apocalyptic world. I doubted they applied at all, especially if Grace felt the rest of her encampment was in danger from my presence.

  Fortunately, she didn’t ask for further details. She busied herself with cleaning it and numbing the area before she stitched several layers of my skin back together. I watched a little bit of it before looking away, feeling faintly nauseated. I was going to have a hell of a scar, but it would be worth that if it kept me free of the Fort Glacier people.

  “Where did you come from?” asked Grace as she finished stitching me up, cutting the thread for the last time.

  I just shrugged. “A little bit of everywhere.”

  It was clear she didn’t really believe my answer, but she was nice enough not to probe for details. Instead, she put a bandage over the top of her handiwork. “See me every day for the next few days for changes. We need to keep the dressing as dry as possible, so no bubble baths,” she added that with a grin.

  I smiled back. “I guess there goes my plan to spend the day in the Jacuzzi.”

  Grace smiled. “You can have a quick shower. They’ve rigged up a shower tent with solar showers, which works okay for now, but it’s not pleasant during winter.” She shuddered, clearly remembering the cold showers she’d taken just a few months before. “We have a guy who joined us recently, and he seems to know some stuff about alternative energy sources, so he’s been foraging for solar panels and a compatible generator. We hope to have a stable source of electricity and some hot water before the end of summer, when we really need it again.”

  I nodded, not even certain if I would be here past a day or two, let alone at the end of summer. I’d spent the last year having the luxury of my own shower and bathroom attached to my hospital room, so it was going to be an adjustment to go from daily showers to makeshift outdoor showers—however often they were rationed out—but again, it seemed like a small price to pay to escape the scientists’ experiments and Captain Briggs’ increasingly aggressive overtures.

  Ben returned then, and he held a Styrofoam container out to me. I recognized it as some sort of stew, and I was hungry enough to dig in. I wouldn’t have cared what the ingredients were at that point as I scarfed it down. I’d had the equivalent of hospital food for the last year, all carefully regulated in controlled portions, while being low in sugar, fat, and taste. Even though it didn’t look pretty, it tasted fabulous and was the best thing I’d had in my mouth for months.

  I was kind of embarrassed to realize how quickly I’d eaten it as I handed him the container a few minutes later. I hadn’t even made an effort to get off the exam table or leave the infirmary before I’d started shoveling the food in my mouth like I hadn’t eaten for a week. I blushed. “Pardon my manners, or lack of them. My mom would be embarrassed.”

  Ben grinned at me. “That’s all right. You look like you’ve missed a few meals.”

  I had missed real meals, though I’d been getting a steady supply of calories aside from the last two days. I just shrugged.

  “If Grace is done with you, I’ll show you a bunk, and we’ll talk about what kind of skills you have, and how you might help the community.”

  I slid down awkwardly from the table, landing slightly unsteadily on my still shaky legs. They felt better than they had when I’d run from Fort Glacier, but they still hadn’t recovered from a year of sporadic exercise. I swayed for a moment, and Ben stepped forward to support me, leading to me slumping against him. I honestly lost control of my legs, but stayed against him a little longer than I needed to, enjoying the simple pleasure of human contact with a man I found attractive.

  After a moment, he cleared his throat and stepped back, his hand on my uninjured arm keeping me steady until I was fully upright. I followed behind him, pausing with him when he stopped to toss the Styrofoam container into a large trashcan. I was surprised to see it, and he answered the question I didn’t have time to ask. “We found a stash of these in a restaurant on the run a few week
s ago, and we figured we’d use them while we could. They’re not very environmentally friendly, but they reduce the workload of having to wash dishes. Since there are a lot fewer people producing garbage now, it doesn’t seem to be such a bad thing to do to the planet.”

  I nodded, not wanting him to think I was put out by their use of disposables. I’d simply been surprised to see anything remaining like that. I don’t know why. Ninety percent of the population was dead, and in theory, there should be enough of what remained to go around, but I doubted it worked out that way. Humans had never been all that good at sharing.

  He led me to one of the large tents, again holding the flap for me as I entered. There were bunk beds arranged neatly around the large interior of the tent, along with a wood stove in the middle, its pipe leading up to the ceiling of the canvas. At the moment, it was unlit, which made sense because it was at least seventy-five degrees outside in early summer.

  He gestured to a set of bunk beds just a few feet away. “Looks like these two are open. You can take a top bunk if you want, but right now there aren’t enough women that you have to. I think you make number eight.”

  I took the closest bottom bunk, dropping my bag on it before turning to face him. “You wanted to know my skills?”

  He nodded.

  I felt like I was interviewing for a job, which I’d had a few of during summers, in anticipation of saving for college expenses before I’d gotten the full-ride scholarship to the University of Montana. “I can run really fast. Or I could. I haven’t had much training recently.”

  His lips quirked. “What else can you do?”

  “I did some waitressing, and I can cook some decent dishes. My mother taught me most of her recipes.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “Anything else?”

  I hesitated, searching for anything useful. “My dad was a competitive shooter, and he showed me how to use a gun. It’s been years since I fired one, but I used to be pretty good.”

  He nodded, as though mentally recording that. “And do you have anything else to add?”

  “My major was education, though I only made a couple of years’ progress. I hadn’t really gotten to the specific courses that focused on educating kids yet. I was still clearing out my basic requirements. I don’t know the proper way to teach a kid, but I do like children.”

  He nodded once more. “So you can cook, you can shoot, and you can take care of kids. You sound like you’ll be a useful addition. I’ll figure out something for you, and you’ll probably start tomorrow, if Grace clears you. In the meantime, take the rest of the day to rest and settle in. You look like you’ve been through some hell.”

  “Haven’t we all been through hell?”

  He nodded, a touch of sadness in his expression. “More than our fair share, I’m sure, Sofia. Welcome to Camp Utopia.”

  I frowned at him. “Utopia?”

  “It’s our attempt at sarcasm. It used to be a FEMA camp, but most of the government officials and the soldiers died in the first wave. The second wave took out the rest, so it was just those of us who remained immune. We have a couple of soldiers still around, but neither one of them wanted the responsibility of leading Camp Utopia, so I got elected.”

  He seemed young to be leading the whole thing, and I asked, “How old are you?”

  “Twenty-six.” He seemed almost embarrassed by the admission, and it was obvious he was still surprised to have ended up as the leader too. “We vote pretty much on everything, but there has to be someone with the final say, and I guess that thankless task belongs to me. Whenever practical though, we run Utopia like a democracy.”

  I swallowed the lump that suddenly appeared in my throat. “Does that mean the whole camp gets to vote on whether or not I stay?”

  He shook his head. “No, that only happens if there’s a strong consensus that you need to leave. We pretty much accept anyone as long as they pull their weight and aren’t breaking our few rules. The rules are for the safety of everyone, so you’re expected to abide by those.”

  “What are the rules?”

  “No killing, no stealing, no rape, and no violence. We’re all trying to live here together, and what we have, we all share. We don’t tolerate violence against each other, and as a woman, I want you to feel safe to move among our group. We’ve had a couple of problems in the past, but they were solved.”

  He said it in such a cold, intense way, that I inferred how they were solved. Still, I asked, “What happens if you break the rules?”

  “It depends on how severely break them. You might be reprimanded, banished, or face the firing squad.”

  I caught an uneven breath. “Firing squad? Have you had to do that one yet?”

  “Just once.” He seemed unbothered by guilt, and his unwavering conviction assured me that whatever the circumstances, it had been a necessary choice.

  I didn’t probe for further details. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Ben. I really appreciate the chance to rest.”

  He took my dismissal gracefully, nodding his head and issuing a word of parting before he left the tent.

  I had it to myself, and I figured everyone else was out doing whatever activities they were assigned to keep the camp functioning. After a year of doing nothing, I was actually looking forward to getting to work again, even if it was something menial like cooking. But first, I needed a nap.

  Chapter Three

  I was so worn out that my nap lasted all day and night, and I woke early the next morning to a rumbling stomach with the first rays of dawn breaking out over the horizon. I no longer had the tent to myself, so I moved quietly as I slipped out of the bunk, fixing the blanket over the thin mattress before leaving the shelter. I spent a moment looking around, soon determining where the shower and latrine system appeared to be. It wasn’t as unpleasant as I’d expected, and I figured they must keep the latrines clean. I’d probably have to pull that duty at some point too, and I grimaced at the thought. Still, it was better than being a patient/hostage at Fort Glacier.

  After that, I went to the shower tent, and there were several makeshift privacy stalls. No one else was using it this early in the morning, and it took me a few minutes to figure out how the solar shower worked, but I finally discerned how to open the spigot. I took a quick shower, trying to keep my wound as dry as possible, before drying off and slipping on fresh clothes I’d brought with me. I didn’t know where we put dirty laundry, or who washed it.

  I wasn’t certain if it was a group activity that everyone took turns doing, or we were all responsible for our own. Without knowing, I simply tucked the bundle of clothes under my arm and walked to the sink. As I stared at my reflection, I looked down at the scissors someone had left lying there. My hair was distinctive, being long, wavy, and a rich brown. It was one way they would have easily recognized me at Fort Glacier.

  Before I could talk myself out of it, I started hacking at the long strands, until I had a messy pixie cut instead. I’d have to see about acquiring hair dye somewhere, hoping it would completely change my appearance. They’d probably still recognize me up close, but at least it wouldn’t make it easy for them if they were spying from a distance.

  Did Fort Glacier know about Camp Utopia? The possibility was alarming, and not just for myself. What if they decided they wanted to experiment on the people who had been completely immune to the HLV virus? This would be a potential pool of people from which they could draw subjects. For the first time, I acknowledged to myself I was going to have to tell at least Ben the truth. I couldn’t leave him and the group of people he took care of vulnerable, and I couldn’t stay here in good conscience if I was risking their lives. It was a conversation I dreaded.

  I was just emerging from the shower tent when I ran almost literally into Ben. We were milliseconds from collision when we both jerked to a halt. It left me eyelevel with his pecs, an unusual vantage point for me with my height. His chest was bare, and it was a mouthwatering site. I moved my gaze downward, following th
e line of hair that pointed to his belt line like a discreet signal to head south. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was wearing pants, and I was able to wrench my gaze away and meet his eyes instead. The knowing gleam in his brown orbs brought a flush to my cheeks, though I tried to act naturally. “Good morning.”

  His lips twitched, but there was no indication of teasing or flirtation when he echoed my greeting before adding, “You cut your hair.”

  I nodded, running a hand self-consciously through the short strands. It felt so different from the long hair I’d had all of my life, and though it was strange, I kind of liked it. It was freeing, and it certainly weighed a lot less. “It seemed like a practical thing to do.”

  “Your hair was gorgeous, but this is really cute too.” He seemed slightly embarrassed by the observation, and he quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject. “Why don’t you grab some breakfast? It’s in the same tent as the infirmary past the partition, and then I’ll meet up with you and show you around the camp and give you your assignment.”

  I nodded, deciding it was a relief to escape the awkward moment, even if it meant giving up the sight of his hard chest. I stopped by the tent where I’d been assigned a bunk to leave my dirty clothes at the foot of the bed before taking the suggestion of grabbing breakfast. My stomach was rumbling, and I figured even powdered eggs would be better than nothing. I’d eaten them almost every morning for the past year, and I could continue to do so.

  The cafeteria and meeting space he’d indicated were easy to find, and I grabbed a Styrofoam container from the stack, along with plastic silverware, and joined the line. Still fairly early in the morning, it wasn’t too crowded. A man and woman stood behind the counter to serve the food, and I wondered if this was their way of rationing.

  There were the eggs I’d expected, and my stomach turned a little at the sight of them, though these were a vibrant yellow, and there was also a bin of cottage fries beside a container of gravy. I grabbed a cup of juice as a final step and turned toward the tables. It wasn’t busy yet, but every table was occupied by at least one person. That meant I’d have to just invite myself to sit down, and I cringed at the thought. I don’t know why it bothered me, because once upon a time it wouldn’t have been a big deal at all. And certainly, just the thought of approaching a stranger wouldn’t have made my stomach knot with anxiety.