World on Edge: A Post-Apocalyptic EMP Survival Thriller (World on Edge Book 1) by Chris Pike (top ten ebook reader TXT) 📗

a table. While the family crunched on the energy bars and talked among themselves, Ethan kept quiet. He was worried about Becca’s wound. When he disinfected the area, washing away the dried blood and grime, it allowed him to see the redness surrounding the wound. The previous day, her leg was a better color. Today, not so good. He had looked for antibiotics in the discarded purses and bags, hoping someone had brought their medicine with them. Unable to find any meds, he got an idea. It was a longshot, yet one that might work, because if it didn’t, Becca wouldn’t last the week.

Chapter 16

The second day wore on. Throngs of survivors left the stadium, heading into the unknown where violence awaited them and where hardships would test the resolve of even the strongest. Rumors were rampant with theories of the EMP ranging anywhere from the Chinese invading the US, to rogue government officials planning a new country by writing a new Constitution and a new Bill of Rights.

Joe Buck and Oscar headed back to where Lexi was located. On the way, Joe took note of the stadium’s condition. Forty-eight hours had passed since the EMP struck, and the stadium had become a dangerous place to stay. Gangs of people had formed for safety, and it wouldn’t be long before disease broke out due to the rotting corpses and lack of proper sanitation. He made a decision to leave the following day and to help Lexi get to her grandmother’s house, located west of Houston.

Fulshear was once a sleepy little country town where Lexi’s grandmother called home—if the place could be called a town because the community had only recently gotten its first stoplight at the intersection of two farm-to-market roads—he estimated it to be about forty miles west from where they were located.

In the past five years, urban sprawl had consumed pastures where cattle roamed, horses galloped, and where creeks ran clear, for the construction of cookie-cutter homes. Centuries old oaks had been bulldozed, discarded in a pile with other native flora, replaced by several strip malls with a plethora of shops including those for CBD, yoga, fast food restaurants, dollar stores, dance studios, dental offices, and insurance companies. Redwing blackbirds and scissortail birds once so common had been driven further west, away from the bulldozers and the hammering of construction.

“Lexi, I’m back,” Joe said.

Oscar padded over to Lexi and sniffed, taking in her unique smell. She reminded him of the other females his handler had introduced him to, some with squeaky voices, some husky. When Joe sat next to Lexi, Oscar immediately sensed Joe’s relaxed posture and his approval of the female, so Oscar showed his approval too. He licked her hand and placed his paw on her.

“I think he likes me,” Lexi cooed.

“It’s a good sign. Dogs are good judge of character.”

“It’s been a while since I had a dog. Being on the road doesn’t allow me the time or luxury to have a pet. Where’d you find him?” Lexi stroked Oscar on the flat part of his head, then to his back.

“Well, uh…” Joe trailed off, unsure exactly what to explain or how much.

“Is something wrong?”

“We found his handler.” Joe’s gaze flicked to Lexi then back to Oscar

“I’m afraid to ask.”

Joe shook his head. “Like I suspected. He’s dead.”

“I’m so sorry.” Lexi placed her hand on his arm, a small gesture but with large connotations of empathy.

“Yeah, well, I don’t mean to be crass, but that’s life. Some live, some don’t. I’m just glad Oscar stumbled upon us. No telling what would have happened to him if he hadn’t found us.”

Lexi couldn’t think of anything profound to say other than, “I’m sure your friend would be grateful if he knew you were taking care of his dog.”

For a few minutes neither Lexi nor Joe spoke, each keeping their thoughts private. Joe picked at a ragged cuticle, while Lexi petted Oscar. The repetitive motion of her hand going up and down Oscar’s back comforted both of them. Oscar sensed the goodness of Lexi, so didn’t protest when she petted him on his back. During the quiet moment, Lexi became aware of the discomfort in her jaw. She moved her jaw from side to side and massaged her cheek.

“How’s your tooth?” Joe asked.

“Not good. It’s getting worse, and I’m having trouble opening my mouth. I feel feverish too.”

Joe placed his hand on Lexi’s forehead. “You do feel warm.” Joe dug around in his backpack, pulled out a bottle of pain reliever, and handed Lexi two tablets. “Take these and drink plenty of water.”

“Thanks.”

“It’ll be getting dark soon, so we need to eat.”

“I’ll have a hamburger, medium well, mustard and mayo, lettuce and tomato, and an order of fries.” Lexi winked.

“Anything else?” Joe asked.

“A cold beer would be nice.”

“Coming right up.” Rising, Joe said, “If I can’t find any burgers, will a cold sandwich do?”

“Absolutely.”

Joe and Lexi ate a plain dinner with food Joe had found. The selection had dwindled due to the survivors combing through and hoarding the non-perishable food they could find. Joe talked about his life, reminiscing about his family and childhood. Lexi did the same, and talked about her musical career, and the demands placed on her.

“Are you happy doing what you do?” Joe asked. He took a bite of the cheese sandwich, and washed it down with a gulp of water.

“I’m happiest singing my own songs for people because I hope my music uplifts them and provides an escape from real life. All of us struggle with the same issues.”

“Such as?”

“Feeling valued, connecting with other people, wanting to be loved.”

“I agree. You didn’t answer my question regarding if you’re happy doing what you do.”

“I know.” Lexi broke off a piece of her sandwich and let Oscar nibble it