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

and to take Oscar with you when you need to use the restroom. He knows how to protect people. On the slim chance I don’t make it back, do whatever you need to do to remove the tooth. It’s only going to get worse. If Tom Hanks can do it in Cast Away, you can do it too.”

“Wilson won’t be here to cheer me on,” Lexi deadpanned.

“Oscar will be.”

“Be safe,” Lexi said. “And come back to me.”

Chapter 17

Joe looped his backpack over his shoulder. “Stay safe and out of sight, Lexi.” He gave Oscar a pet on the head. “Guard Lexi and bite anyone who means her harm.” The dog didn’t understand him, it was more to console Lexi.

With a heavy heart, he walked away from the bar they had called home for two nights.

The stadium’s condition had deteriorated in the last twenty-four hours. Haggard survivors loitered near food vendor stations, protecting them like it was their own. Men armed themselves with pieces of rebar and gave Joe the stink eye when he walked past them. Bloated bodies were strewn about. Some had a coat or a piece of cloth over their faces, others hadn’t been afforded any sense of dignity in death. Pockets had been turned inside out. Contents of purses had been dumped on the floor.

On one of Joe’s earlier excursions to search for supplies, he had found a clean handkerchief. He reached into his pocket, removed the hankie, then tied it around his mouth and nose. The odor of decomposition hung heavy in the air.

The sun had peeked through the low clouds, offering warmth, and once Joe escaped the confines of the damp stadium, he welcomed the sun, standing in its rays like a turtle sunning on a rock.

Cars parked in the lot had either been broken into or were being guarded by adults. Children played near the cars with anything they could construct as a toy. Others were stretched out on the seats, sleeping. Somewhere a baby cried and a dog barked.

“Excuse me,” a woman said, running up to Joe. “My husband is having chest pains and he needs a doctor. Can you help us get him to a hospital?”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I doubt the hospitals will take any patients. If you have any aspirin, then give him one.”

“I’ve asked whoever I’ve seen. Nobody is willing to help us. Please,” she pleaded. “You’re a good man, aren’t you? Can you help us?”

“Not right now. I should be back this way much later today. I can help you then. Where’s your car?”

“It’s over there,” she pointed. “The red jeep parked at the end of the row.”

“I see it,” Joe said. “Keep your husband calm, and I’ll try to find you some aspirin.”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” she said, clasping her hands to her bosom. She wrapped her arms around Joe, and said, “We will be forever grateful.”

Taken aback at the speed the woman hugged him, he gently pried her arms from him. “What’s your name?”

“Caroline. My husband is Tony.”

“I’m Joe. See you later today.”

Leaving the enormous parking lot packed with SUVs, sedans, motorcycles, and tents where tailgate parties had been underway, he decided his best route to the zoo was to take Main Street, which led directly in front of the zoo.

On his way out, he stopped by his truck where he left a few tools in the locked toolbox. Without a firearm he felt exposed and vulnerable, so a large plumber’s wrench would be better than nothing. Unfortunately, the toolbox had been vandalized, leaving him without so much as a screwdriver.

Great.

By the way the crow flies, the zoo would be less than ten miles away, except Joe was no crow. He’d have to zigzag his way to Main Street, then navigate the massive medical complex where the famed hospitals were located on nearly five square miles of buildings, parking lots, skyways, and landscaped grounds. Unfortunately, Joe knew the area well. That period in his life was too painful to revisit.

He plodded on, one step at a time.

The immediate area near NRG Stadium was densely populated with apartment complexes, fast food restaurants, strip centers, and office buildings housing local businesses. The area was also known to have gangs – a problem well-known to Joe. He kept his wits about him, taking in his environment, searching for anything out of place.

His imposing presence and steely eyes would normally intimidate anyone with unwelcome motives aimed toward him. Of course, his strategy worked in a civil society, and from what he had witnessed at the stadium, society had digressed faster than any bell curve could have predicted.

The grocery store he passed had been reduced to a jumble of broken windows, overturned carts, a smashed vending machine, and empty shelves. A cat scurried around the corner when Joe approached the store, followed by three large dogs running after it. They were street-smart mixed breed dogs, partly feral, accustomed to a hard life of survival, without a home to take shelter in during bad weather. The chase ended out of sight of Joe, and when he came to the corner, he witnessed the dogs tearing the poor cat to pieces. Two days of hunger had driven the dogs to desperation. He’d better be sure to have all his wits about him when entering the zoo.

With any luck, he would make it to the zoo by early afternoon. He’d find the antibiotics he needed, then be back with Lexi by nightfall.

There was one problem.

It wasn’t Joe’s lucky day.

Chapter 18

Joe Buck approached the bridge over Brays Bayou, a murky, slow-moving river traversing through the southern part of Houston for thirty-one miles starting at the western edge of Harris County, then converging with Buffalo Bayou on the eastern side of the city.

Three armed men stood guard at the bridge,