After The EMP Box Set [Books 7-9]: The Hope Trilogy by Tate Harley

Author:Tate, Harley [Tate, Harley]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | EMP | Survival
Published: 2019-05-30T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Sixteen

TRACY

Woodland Veterinary Services

Truckee, CA

6:00 p.m.

“It has to be in here. At least one.” Tracy held out a bag and Brianna dumped everything she could identify by name inside. Fish Mox, painkillers, tranquilizers. So far, nothing for rabies.

“There’s got to be something.” Tracy willed a vaccine into existence with every twitch of her fingers and beat of her heart. They couldn’t have come all this way to leave empty-handed. Visions of Madison growing delirious and combative before succumbing to the virus filled her mind. She twisted the bag in her fingers. “Maybe he kept the vaccines in another place.”

Brianna pulled out a white and green box and squinted to read the label. “Shine the light this way.”

Tracy sent up a silent prayer. Please be what we need. Please.

Brianna tore into the packaging, pulling out a plastic rectangle and folded-up instructions. Her shoulders fell. “It’s only a testing kit.”

Tracy brightened. A testing kit was better than nothing. “Will it work on the spit we collected?”

“It should.” Brianna unfolded the instructions. “We put the saliva on the open spot of the collection tablet and wait ten minutes. A control line should appear in the testing window. If the saliva tests positive, a second red line should appear.”

“Just like a pregnancy test.” Tracy pulled the jar of saliva they collected from the fox out of her bag. “Are there any gloves around?”

“I saw some back in the office.” Brianna hurried into the main veterinary space while Tracy stood beside the mummified Dr. Benton and stared at the test kit. If the saliva came up negative, they could take their time loading up everything useful, find a place to sleep, and head back home in the morning.

If it tested positive…

“Got some.” Brianna interrupted Tracy’s runaway train of thoughts. “And some Q-tips. Hand me the test.”

Tracy held it out and Brianna set it up on the edge of the desk. With gloved hands, she opened the jar. Using the oversized Q-tip, she drew up some of the sample and deposited it on the test. “Now we wait.”

Tracy lasted about thirty seconds before the stress of not knowing propelled her into action. She dumped the rest of the medicine into the bag and secured it to her small pack along with the box of gloves Brianna pilfered.

She glanced at her watch. Ten minutes seemed like ten years.

Standing in the dark, with a dead man decaying on the floor, the reality of the world hit Tracy with renewed force. Before the solar storm and the EMP, a ten-minute wait passed in a blur of scrolling. Phones might as well be surgically attached to every person standing in line, waiting in carpool, ordering fast food.

She never noticed how much she relied on a phone to pass the time until they stopped working. Tracy picked up her flashlight and lit up the office, pausing on Dr. Benton’s diplomas and photographs hung on the wall. Most chronicled the life of a boy with a crooked smile and a dimple on his left cheek.

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