Surviving The End (Book 2): Fallen World by Hamilton Grace

Author:Hamilton, Grace [Hamilton, Grace]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Survival
Published: 2019-12-10T16:00:00+00:00

16

When Jodi finally opened her eyes, it felt like her head was splitting in two. The pain was so severe she wanted to shut her eyes again and retreat to the mindless darkness that had held her like a cocoon. She squinted, taking in her surroundings through the screen of her eyelashes. The room was lit by a number of bright LED lanterns on a nearby shelf, but she didn’t recognize the place. Strange wallpaper with a pattern of farm animals, cabinets against the walls painted a soft baby blue, a row of plastic chairs near a door that looked like it belonged in a schoolhouse.

Where the heck am I? she wondered. How did I get here?

Her last memory was of lying in a deep ditch and seeing starlight wheeling about overhead. It took her a minute to remember how she’d gotten there. Motorcycle on its side, sliding out from under her, the asphalt rising up to meet her, the sound of her leather jacket grinding away. As the memory came back to her, she panicked and tried to sit up, but her headache became a spike that went right through her skull, and she felt a sudden sharp pain in her back.

The light from the lanterns hurt her eyes, so she turned away, facing a curtained wall. Only then did she realize she was lying on a doctor’s examination table, crisp paper crinkling beneath her. A thin blanket had been pulled up to her neck, but it slid off now. When she tried to reach for it, her arm seemed restricted. Looking down, she saw that it was in a sling.

“What happened to me?” she wondered aloud.

The door opened then, and a man she didn’t recognize walked in. A thin African-American gentleman with a neat mustache, wearing medical scrubs and carrying a leather satchel. He set the satchel on a nearby countertop and approached her.

“Well, good morning,” he said. “It’s nice to see you awake and alert. To answer your question, you took a tumble off a motorcycle and got a pretty nice knock on the head in the process. That’s what happened to you.”

He shined a small light in her eyes, which stung like hell and made her eyes water. Then he took her blood pressure. She heard the rhythmic hissing of air as he squeezed the bulb and felt the increasing pressure of the cuff against her right bicep. It made her gunshot wounds throb like crazy.

“You are running out of arms to injure,” the doctor said. “Fortunately, your head trauma doesn’t seem to be as severe as I initially feared. All things considered, you are very, very lucky, though you might be quite sore for a while. I’d take a few days to recover before you start lifting weights again.”

“Is my left arm broken?” she asked. She ignored his mild attempt at a bad joke.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” he said. He stooped and picked up the blanket, unfolding it and draping it over her. “It’s not a bad break, but you won’t be doing much with that arm for the next six to eight weeks.

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