Ruined Between the Sheets: An Anthology of Dystopian Stories that Get to the Point

by L. A. Boruff

  With them at my side.

  10

  Day Fifteen

  Staring at the basement door, I reach out and grasp the hands closest to me.

  “Are you sure?” Rob coughs, and when I look over I spot his pale, haggard face.

  I nod, my voice almost broken. “Yes,” I croak. “I want to see the world one more time, I refuse to die down here, hiding and scared.” I finish on a coughing fit, and when I look down at my shirt, I spot the blood splattered there.

  Before I can no longer move I walk up the stairs. Jacob has to half carry Cooper and they stumble out into the corridor of the house. Walking alone to the front door, I feel them behind me. This is my decision, they would follow me. No hesitations, I grab the door handle and suck in a deep breath before turning it and opening the door.

  The world looks the same and not the same, if that makes any sense. Everything is how we left it, but it seems...darker...more destroyed. Like I can taste the decay and poison in the air.

  The breeze sweeps past, no doubt carrying fallout and debris, but I suck it down anyway knowing it will be my last time tasting the summer air of this world. Descending the porch steps, I pass Cole’s car and continue on into the field on the left.

  Panting and in pain, I force one step in front of the other even though my body wants to fail. When I reach the tree I spotted when we first drove up I stop, looking up at the branches.

  Turning, I see them struggling across the field to me before they all fall to the ground, turning on their backs to face the sky. Cole’s breathing is the worst and I know he’s the closest to death. Forcing myself to move, I kiss every one of them one last time. They taste like blood and death, but a kiss has never been so bittersweet.

  Crumpling to the ground in the middle of them, I reach out and pull them as close as I can. We make a little puppy pile, all of us waiting for death.

  “I love you, I love you all,” I breathe out, my voice raw.

  “Love,” cough, “you,” Cole adds.

  “Ditto.” Cooper tries to joke, gasping, “Apart from Jacob.”

  “Love yo—” Rob ends in a hacking cough that doesn't seem to stop.

  “I love you,” Jacob heaves.

  Smiling, I close my eyes and let the sun heat my face while I smile at the sky. Reaching over, I grab the hands closest to me.

  The world is silent around us, the breeze brushing my face, and a tear slips out of my eye when I realize I can’t hear the guys anymore.

  Life will go on without us—love will go on.

  I never knew love could be this quick or deep, but I wouldn’t change my final days for a longer life. In that short space of time, I got to experience what true happiness and caring felt like. My days after the bombs have been amazing. I died knowing the love of four wonderful men, it might not be the life I wanted, but it's the life I got and that’s okay. It’s my last thought as everything fades to blackness.

  About the Authors

  Katie and Erin started writing together in 2018 when their love of the supernatural and all things RH lead to them collaborating on Circus Save Me. What was supposed to be a standalone book has become a series and lead to several spin offs. They are now working on The Wild Boys series.

  Katie is the international best selling author of The Wasteland, Auroras Coven and Voyage to Ayama.

  Join her reader’s group here:

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/KatiesKnights/

  Erin is the creator of the best selling Shadowborn Series with book two, Lost in Shadow her newest release!

  Join her reader’s group here:

  https://www.facebook.com/groups/ErinOKanesShadowRealm/

  SCORCHLANDS

  A dystopian reverse harem romance short story

  Grace White

  SCORCHLANDS

  Today is the day Kyra and her best friends leave the nuclear fallout bunker they’ve called home for the last two years.

  They don’t know what to expect when they go above ground.

  But one thing’s for sure ... nothing will ever be the same again.

  Chapter One

  Day 731

  Today we leave the bunker. Marisol is scared, as usual. Not me. I’m itching to see daylight, to stand and inhale fresh air (even if it is toxic). The guys are playing it cool, but I can tell Denver and Cavendish are worried. So much has changed. The world as we know it. Our future.

  Us.

  Our parents locked us away down here as kids, afraid and innocent. But we’re no longer those people. Two years living in an underground bunker will do that to a person. It’s a miracle we haven’t turned on one another. If anything, we’re stronger. And we’ll need to be.

  If Dad was right about everything, then the worst isn’t behind us.

  It’s out there.

  Waiting for us.

  Wish us luck.

  K.

  “Have you got everything?” Cavendish asked me as I methodically packed my items into my backpack. Tinned goods, numerous hunting knives, water, sunblock (not that I expected it to do much good), blankets, and of course, my journal. My crossbow was propped up against the door, ready for when we finally left. Which should have been twenty damn minutes ago if it wasn’t for Marisol having yet another panic attack. She was my best friend, but Christ, the girl needed some Xanax. Two years locked underground in a bunker, fully equipped to withstand a nuclear fallout, had done nothing for the girl’s nerves.

  “I think so. Do we have enough water?” I glanced over Cavendish’s shoulder to where Denver, Zephyr, and Miles were helping one another suit up.

  “As much as we can carry.” His lips thinned, the reality of what we were about to do etched into the lines around his whisky-brown eyes. Cavendish was like me; eager to go above ground, to find out just how bad things were. But he was a thinker. He liked to consider the options, weigh up the risks. Me, not so much. I preferred to act first, ask questions later.

  “Hey.” I grabbed his arm, hardly surprised by the muscle I felt. He should have been thin and scrawny after two years living on nothing but canned tuna, and beans, and tasteless porridge. But the guys had kept fit, working out daily with Zephyr, and downing protein shakes like they were going out of fashion.

  “It’s going to be okay. The SOS call was good. Denver traced its location,” I said. “There are only eighty miles between us and Subterranea.”

  “I wish I had your faith, Kyra.” He smiled weakly and my stomach dipped.

  “It’s not faith, Cav. I just... I have to tell myself Subterranea is real; that there’s hope.”

  Because without hope what else was there?

  I’d spent my whole childhood watching our parents live in fear; for our planet, for their children’s futures.

  Our future.

  I wasn’t born when the first solar flare happened. I wasn’t alive to see the news coverage of the solar event that would lead to the single most catastrophic event in our history. But I’d been born into the devastation; we all had.

  “I know, Ky, I know.” He covered my hand with his own and squeezed gently, his intimate touch setting off butterflies in my stomach. Cavendish was one of my best friends, but somewhere over the last few months, things had begun to change. Heated looks, subtle touches. There had been one or two almost kisses too, but for the sake of the group we’d resisted the growing attraction between us.

  “We’ll make it,” he sighed.

  Damn right we would. Because there was no other option.

  Our parents had equipped the bunker with enough supplies to last us for two years. We’d conserved water and food where we could, but time was up. If we didn’t leave now, we would die down here. A slow, painful death.

  And I refused to let that be our legacy.

  “You should go talk to her,” Cav said, flicking his head to where Marisol sat rigid, staring off into space.

  With a muted grumble, I gave him a tight nod and made my way over to my best friend. “Mari,” I said softly. “We
need to go. Are you ready?”

  “I- I can’t do it, Kyra. I don’t think I can go.” Her voice trembled as an ugly sob tore through her. Marisol was the baby of group. Barely seventeen, she’d grown up surrounded by people who did everything for her. Me, her brother Miles, and the rest of the guys.

  “You don’t have a choice,” I said, firmer this time. “We have to leave the bunker. If we don’t, we’ll die before the month’s out.” Our ventilation system had reached critical. Our food stores were depleted, save the goods we had stowed for today. And water was just as sparse.

  “Perhaps we could go look for more supplies? There might be—”

  “Mari, look at me.” Sitting down beside her, I took her slim hand in mine. “We have to leave. It’s our only shot at survival.”

  Her glossy eyes slid to mine, silent tears streaking down her cheeks. “Aren’t you scared?”

  “Terrified,” I admitted, not because I gave credence to my fear, but because I knew she needed to hear it. “But it’s time to go above ground.”

  She gave me a little nod, swiping her tears away. “O- okay.” Her lip quivered. “I’m ready.”

  “Atta girl.” I patted her knee. “Get your pack and don’t forget your scarf.”

  We didn’t know what to expect outside. Dad; and Mr. Marten, Cavendish’s father; had equipped the bunker with a Geiger counter that was hooked up to probes on the surface so we could track the radiation levels above ground. Over the last few months, levels had finally begun to stabilize, but we knew whatever we found out there wouldn’t be good.

  The last solar flare—that led to our parents stowing us away inside the bunker—should have been end game. But thanks to some space engineering I still didn’t really understand, scientists had managed to re-route Earth’s orbit around the sun, putting our small planet just outside of the fry-zone. Earth had survived, but we wouldn’t know the scope of the damage until we went above ground. And since no one had come to get us yet… well, we were under no illusions about what we’d find when we finally opened the hatch.

  Marisol got up and went to retrieve her scarf, looping it around her head twice and then around her neck. Mine was already bunched around my shoulders, ready to pull over my head before we left. Thanks to the Government’s introduction of the mithridatism program, we all had some natural resistance to gamma rays, but no one could predict how resistant we would be until exposure.

  “Everyone ready?” Zephyr was hovering at the door leading to the small hallway. Beyond that was the airlock and then the stairs leading to the hatch and our freedom.

  Freedom.

  I rolled the word around my tongue. I wanted to believe leaving the bunker was the right thing to do—our only shot at survival—but Marisol had a point. Maybe we were trading one death for another.

  At least this way though, we would die trying.

  The first thing I noticed was the heat. It hit my well-wrapped body like an inferno. Squinting behind my sunglasses, I scanned the surrounding area. What was once a built-up suburban neighborhood was now a charred barren desert, scattered with ruins of what once was.

  “Holy shit,” Zephyr whistled between his teeth, his chest pressed against my back as we took in our new reality. “It really did wipe out everything.”

  “The good news is radiation levels are stable,” Miles came up beside us, holding the hand-held radiation monitor.

  “That doesn’t look good though.” Denver pointed to the sky.

  “Fuck,” Zeph hissed.

  “Dad always said it would be spectacular,” my voice quivered. The sun was no longer a divine circle of light, but an angry giant fireball that looked impossibly close.

  “Spectacular and fucking terrifying,” Cav grumbled. “It looks ready to blow at any second.”

  “Yeah, well,” Zeph brushed past me. “No use standing around debating things out of our control. Subterranea is an eighty-mile hike, we should get going.” He checked the map and took off, Marisol and Denver hot on his heels.

  Cavendish strode up to me, his hand brushing mine. “You okay?” I couldn’t see his eyes from behind his glasses, but I knew if I could, there would be concern glittering in his whisky irises.

  “I’m good.” I swallowed thickly as my eyes did a final sweep of what was left of our hometown. So much loss and destruction. Grief hit me so hard it hurt to breathe. We’d lost everyone. Our parents had given up their lives for us to live. No child should have to carry that burden, but here we were.

  “Hey.” His fingers slid against mine, pulling me back to him. “We can do this,” he said.

  Nodding, I pulled my hand free and forced a smile. “I know. I just—”

  “Yeah. Me too.”

  “Hey, you two,” Zeph called. “Coming?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Cavendish muttered. “Keep your dick on.”

  I smothered a laugh. Zephyr, as the eldest of us, liked to think himself the leader. He’d spent weeks planning our route east to Macoby where Subterranea was, preparing rations, and re-reading everything he could on the effects of the solar flare on the Earth. We all had our roles to play, and Zephyr Dalton was our fearless leader.

  “Play nice,” I whispered, shooting Cav a knowing smirk. But he caught me off-guard, snagging my hand and tugging me toward him.

  “Nice?” He grinned, staring down at me. “I can do nice.” Before I could stop him, he pressed his lips to mine, slipping his tongue into my mouth, and kissing me hard.

  “Cavendish,” I scolded, slamming my hands against his chest. “What the hell—”

  His dark blond brow rose with amusement. “Come on, K, it’s been a long time coming.”

  “I…” I didn’t know what to say to that, and he didn’t stick around for me to formulate a reply, taking off after the others. Zephyr chose that exact moment to glance back, his hard eyes locking with mine. A shiver rolled up my spine; he looked so intense. Had he seen Cavendish kiss me?

  Would he care if he had?

  Stuffing down my confusing thoughts, I shot him a clipped smile and picked up my pace. We had a lot of ground to cover.

  And no time for distractions.

  We walked for two miles in relative comfort. Everyone except for Marisol was excited to be above ground. But somewhere into the third mile, Denver said, “Rest stop?”

  “Already?” Zeph said. “We’ve barely covered three miles.”

  “Yeah, well, we’re not all GI fucking Joe like you,” Denver quipped back as he pulled off his pack and dropped down on a rock, retrieving a water decanter. There was every chance it was once the foundations of a building, maybe a house or store, but it was easier to pretend otherwise. He took a long pull on the decanter then poured some water over his unruly dark-brown hair, shaking it out, sending spray flying everywhere.

  “I told you to train harder. We don’t have time to dawdle.” Zeph grumbled, pulling out his map and studying it closely.

  Denver offered me his water, and I took it, only allowing myself a couple of sips, fighting the urge to tip the whole thing over my overheated body, before handing it back. “Thanks.”

  He nodded. “How’s she holding up?” He flicked his head over to Marisol who was nibbling the pad of her thumb.

  “She’s… Mari.”

  “And what about you? How are you doing?”

  “It’s been a couple of hours. Ask me again in a few days.”

  “Touché.” He grinned. “I thought coming up would remove the stick from his ass, but I guess some things will never change.”

  “Denver,” I warned just as Cavendish joined us, standing close enough that our shoulders brushed.

  “He’s right, Ky. Zephyr needs to lighten up. We have a long way to go.”

  Rolling my eyes, I left them to their own devices while I went to see if Zephyr needed anything. “Hey,” I said.

  He stiffened, folding the map back up and stuffing it in his pack. “Hey.” His eyes were narrowed, his expression cool as he looked at me.


  “Are we on course?”

  “I think so. It’s hard to know since the Earth’s magnetic field is shot to pieces. But the terrain looks familiar. See,” he pointed at some mountains in the far distance, “That’s Cheyenne Mountain. Macoby is beyond that.”

  “I see it.”

  “We should try to cover as much ground as possible before nightfall.”

  “If there’s a night anymore,” I corrected.

  His lips thinned. “Either way, we’ll need to rest at some point. I’m hoping we find somewhere to take shelter. If not, it’ll have to be the tents.”

  “Camping, yay.” I fist-pumped the air, earning me a rare Zephyr Dalton smile.

  “Kyra, listen, I—”

  “Are we doing this, or what?” Denver and Cavendish strolled up to us, Denver clapping Zeph around the shoulder. He ducked out of his best friend’s hold and gave the three of us a stern look.

  “Hey, guys,” Miles and Marisol joined us. “Mari has a question.”

  “What?” Zephyr barked a little harshly, making her flinch.

  “I, uh, what do we do if we need to pee?”

  “Do you need to pee, Mari?” he softened his voice, and I loved him for it. Marisol wasn’t like the rest of us. Sometimes she needed handling with kiddie gloves.

  “Y- yeah.” Her gaze darted to the ground, color creeping up her neck and into her cheeks.

  “You’ll have to do what the rest of us do, I’m afraid. Find some privacy and do your business. But here,” Zeph dug around in his pack and pulled out a wad of tissue paper. “Take this.”