Brace for Impact

by Harley Tate

  “And my coworkers.” She wiped her nose with a tissue. “I left them all behind.”

  “And we’re damn happy you did.” Howie reached for a bottle of water and twisted it open. “I don’t know the first thing about radiation sickness or treating someone with it. If you weren’t here to help Paul, he’d still be thinking he’s about to die.”

  “And now you can help other people.” Dale chimed in. “Things are gonna get a whole heck of a lot worse before they get better.”

  Leah inhaled and pushed all the negative thoughts aside. “Thanks, guys.” She leaned back in the folding chair. They were right.

  If what she saw on the television was true, then the entire country was in the grips of a disaster bigger than anything anyone had ever known. Nurses would be in short supply.

  Walking away from the hospital didn’t just save her life. If she stayed true to herself, it would save countless others, too.

  Howie held up a can of pork and beans. “Who’s ready for dinner?”

  They ate and talked about where they came from and where they planned to go. Leah shared about her husband and her sister and how she needed to leave soon to find them. Paul shared a photo of his niece and nephew and how as soon as they figured out a way to secure the Walmart, he’d be tracking them down in Kennesaw.

  She watched his nose for signs of more bleeding all evening and when she didn’t see any, her prognosis improved. Now that he had a bit of encouragement, he might pull through. Paul’s survival would do a lot to ease the pain of loss Leah felt every time she thought about the blast.

  The hospital was probably a vaporized hole in the ground. It would never save people again. She stifled a yawn and Paul stood up.

  “We take shifts watching the front of the store at night. You should get some sleep. You’ll be safe here.”

  Leah smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stay up for a while.” It was one thing to treat Paul’s injuries and share a meal, but fall asleep with three strange men and no one to help her?

  It wasn’t that long ago that they almost scared the pants off her. Leah snuggled down in the chair and pulled the blanket from the bookstore over her shoulders. She watched as Howie and Dale cleaned up the makeshift campsite. It didn’t take long for her eyelids to grow heavy.

  The stress of the past four days combined with lack of sufficient food had Leah running on fumes. She shifted in the seat and sang a song to stay awake.

  Sometime in the third stanza, she drifted off.

  Chapter Thirty

  GRANT

  State Road 205

  Northern Georgia

  Wednesday, 6:00 p.m.

  Without street lights, Grant’s neighborhood looked like a painted backdrop for a movie set. Nearly identical houses, one after the other, arranged with the painted colors of the sunset in the distance.

  He pulled into his driveway with the gas gauge solidly on the E. He would need to find some gas before he hit the road. The dog perked up as he put the Cutlass in park and killed the engine. He smiled at the scruffy little thing.

  “Come on, buddy. Time to go home.” Grant opened the door and the dog hopped out.

  With his suitcase in one hand, and the dog by his side, Grant unlocked the door to his house. Stale air and the smell of garbage hit his nose and he turned his head.

  No way would Leah tolerate such a stink. He knew she wouldn’t be there, but hope had still clung to him like a bad piece of computer code he couldn’t get rid of. Grant set the suitcase against the wall and walked down the hall.

  The dog hung a few steps behind.

  “It’s okay, buddy. I’ll get you some food.” Grant stepped into the kitchen and stifled a gag. A trail of some nasty liquid oozed from the freezer compartment of his side-by-side fridge and Grant stepped over it. He fished out a half-eaten loaf of bread and a can of tuna and dumped the contents into a bowl.

  He tried the tap, surprised the water still flowed. After filling another bowl, he carried both over to the edge of the kitchen and set them down. “I’ll find you something better to eat tomorrow. But for now, this is it.”

  The dog came up and slurped half the bowl of water before attacking the fish and bread with gusto. Grant pulled a glass and a bottle of bourbon from the cabinet and poured more than his share.

  He took a gulp and winced before stepping back over the mess and heading for the stairs. There was only one place he wanted to be. He kicked his shoes off out of habit and climbed in his socks up the stairs.

  The master bedroom occupied the rear half of the second floor and Grant headed straight for it. He pushed the door open and the scent of Leah’s perfume, all citrus and hope, hit him like a punch to the gut.

  He swallowed another gulp of bourbon.

  When they were about to be married and buy their first home, Grant originally wanted a little condo right in the heart of the city. Something in midtown by the park or maybe in the trendy area closer to downtown so Leah could walk to work or take the train. It was a Sunday afternoon in February, just after Valentine’s Day, when Leah dragged him out to this subdivision.

  He smiled at the floor as he conjured up the memory. She held her hands over his eyes and duck-walked him into the master bedroom. They stood together in the spot where he now stood alone and she pulled back her hands and showed him the world.

  The entire Atlanta skyline had opened up before them, stunning in size and promise. Downtown leading into midtown, all the recognizable buildings laid out in a row. He had turned to Leah and kissed her breath way. Told the realtor waiting downstairs they would take it.

  He carried her over the threshold as Mrs. Walton a month later. There had been talk of kids and family and the promise of the future in that home. So many nights spent on their balcony outside their bedroom overlooking the lights of the city. So bright and full of life.

  Grant drained the rest of his drink and set the empty glass on his dresser. Where the skyscrapers of downtown and midtown used to be, nothing remained but darkness. No lights. No rising towers set off against the purples and pinks of the sunset.

  Nothing except a giant hole in the ground and the specter of terror and maybe even war. Grant stood still, watching the last bit of light recede and the night claim the day. As he did, pinpricks of light began to glow red and orange in the city.

  He took a step forward and palmed the sliding glass door. Are those lights? Is there power?

  With a tremble in his hands, he slid the door open and stepped out onto the balcony. Only then did he see the truth. Not lights.

  Fires.

  What wasn’t obliterated in the blast now burned.

  He turned around in a rush and went back inside. The dog lay on the bed Grant shared with Leah, curled up on its side like it knew she wasn’t coming back.

  Grant sat down on his side and held his face in his hands. He couldn’t believe she was dead. He refused to believe it. There would be a future for the two of them together, somehow, some way.

  He opened his eyes and paused. A handheld emergency radio sat on his bedside table. He never used it. It was one of those Christmas gifts he’d gotten from a coworker and promptly forgot about. Grant picked it up.

  It either ran on batteries or a hand crank. Grant had never bothered to put batteries in it, so he pulled out the crank and gave it a whirl. Once the little light beside the power sign glowed green, he pulled out the antenna and turned the dial.

  A robotic voice crackled to life. “…. Emergency Broadcast System. This is not a drill. Radiation has been detected in your area. Fallout shelters are denoted by yellow and black signs with the radiation symbol. Proceed to the nearest shelter and remain there until further notice. This is not a drill…”

  The voice repeated the same message over and over again and Grant shut it off. Most of the fallout shelters in the city were buried under debris and dead bodies. Even if anyone had been able to find them, how would they get in?

  Lying back on the
bed, he slipped his hands behind his head. The dog lightly snored beside him. If Leah were there, he could forget all about the horror raging outside and pretend it never happened.

  But without her, he could only stare at the ceiling. He closed his eyes and willed his body to relax.

  Tonight, I’ll sleep.

  Tomorrow, I’ll start the search for my wife.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  LEAH

  Walmart

  Northern Georgia

  Thursday, 7:00 a.m.

  Leah rubbed her eyes and yawned. Did I fall asleep? She blinked her eyes open. Shafts of light filtered across the front of the Walmart and she blinked her watch into focus. Seven in the morning?

  She sat up with a start. Howie and Dale were sprawled out on sleeping bags ten feet from her. Leah pushed her hair off her face and sat up. They were true to their word. They didn’t hurt her.

  Paul was nowhere to be found. He must have the morning shift. Leah eased out of the chair, picked up her flashlight, and found the women’s restroom. After freshening up, she walked back to her chair and grabbed her duffel.

  Slinging it over her shoulder, she thought about staying. Paul, Dale, and Howie were good men. They had good hearts and noble intentions. But this Walmart north of the city wasn’t her home.

  Grant had begged her to go to Dawn’s place. She couldn’t give up on that. She couldn’t give up on Grant. Her husband might need her even more than Paul.

  Leah smiled one last time at the two sleeping men and walked toward the front of the store. After sneaking around the shopping cart, she headed to the Buick. It sat right where she left it, ready and waiting. She popped the trunk, put her bag inside, and exhaled. Now or never.

  “Leaving already?”

  She jumped as she shut the trunk. Paul stood beside it, bandaged hands awkward at his sides.

  “I need to find my family.”

  He nodded. “Thanks for fixing me up.”

  “You’re welcome. Change the bandages every other day and use lots of the ointment.”

  “I will.”

  “And take the multivitamin I showed you, too.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He grinned before nodding at the store. “I pulled a few things I thought you could use.”

  Leah blinked. “Won’t Dale be mad?”

  Paul laughed. “Probably. But sooner or later he’ll figure out he isn’t getting paid and then all bets are off.”

  “It doesn’t feel right.”

  “You need to eat. And you need to defend yourself.” He hustled over to the front of the store and stepped through the door. A minute later, he came out laden with four plastic bags and what looked like a rifle.

  “Gatorade, granola bars. A few cans of meat. Stuff that’ll keep you full.”

  Leah took the bags. “Thank you.”

  Paul held onto the rifle. “This Walmart don’t carry the good stuff anymore, but it’s still got air rifles. It won’t take down a person, but it might scare them off.”

  She stared at it. “I don’t know how to use it.”

  “It’s easy. Just pump and shoot.” He handed it over. “It’ll be good for huntin’ rabbit and squirrel in the spring.”

  Leah grimaced. “I guess I’ll have to get used to that, won’t I?”

  He smiled. “Squirrel tastes just like chicken.”

  “Thanks, Paul.”

  “Thank you, Nurse Leah.”

  She smiled and walked to the driver’s side of the car. Leah slid into the seat and started the engine. As she pulled away, Paul waved.

  She hoped the radiation sickness wouldn’t claim a good man like him, but she had no way to know. He was one of millions right now suffering in the aftermath. She didn’t know who was responsible for the attack or whether this was the beginning of war, but Leah made up her mind as she pulled onto the road.

  It wouldn’t change who she was or what she promised to do with her life. She was a nurse and she would help people, no matter what. A bomb wouldn’t change that. It wouldn’t change who she was meant to be.

  The Buick bumped over the exit and Leah turned north.

  Next stop: Hampton, Georgia.

  Want to know how it all started? Subscribe to Harley’s newsletter and receive First Strike, the prequel to the Nuclear Survival saga, absolutely free.

  www.harleytate.com/subscribe

  If you found out the world was about to end, what would you do?

  Four ordinary people—a computer specialist, a hacker, a reporter, and a private investigator—are about to find out.

  Each one has a role to play in the hours leading up to the worst attack in United States history.

  Will they rise to the occasion or will the threat of armageddon stop them in their tracks?

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading Brace for Impact. I hope you enjoyed reading the start of this new adventure as much as I enjoyed writing it. Grant and Leah will be pushed to their limits, they will work to overcome every obstacle put in their way.

  For fans of my After the EMP series, don’t worry, it’s not over, merely on hold. I hope to be back later this year with more stories in that universe.

  Over the past year, I’ve received a few reader emails when I change facts about cities or use fictitious names of streets and businesses. Although I try to be as realistic as possible, I do take liberties with regard to names, places, and events for the sake of the story (and to not ruffle real life feathers!). I hope you don’t mind and can still go along for the ride.

  If you enjoyed this book and have a moment, please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Every one helps new readers discover my work and helps me keep writing the stories you want to read.

  Until next time,

  Harley

  About Harley Tate

  When the world as we know it falls apart, how far will you go to survive?

  Harley Tate writes edge-of-your-seat post-apocalyptic fiction exploring what happens when ordinary people are faced with impossible choices.

  The apocalypse is only the beginning.

  Contact Harley directly at:

  www.harleytate.com

  harley@harleytate.com