The World After (Book 3) by Ryan Casey

Author:Ryan Casey [Casey, Ryan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Post-Apocalyptic | Dystopian | EMP
Publisher: Higher Bank Books
Published: 2017-06-09T06:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

I opened my eyes and reached out for Harriet beside me.

I knew there was something wrong; something amiss. There was a reason why I couldn’t feel Harriet beside me, and I knew what that reason was, deep down. I just didn’t want to entertain the thought. I didn’t want to give it any attention. I wanted to blissfully, ignorantly believe that I was back home, back to my perfect old life where everything was okay, where everything just worked.

It was morning, I knew that. I was in a soft bed, even softer than I’d remembered my big, luxurious double bed back at home to be. We’d argued about the mattress a few times, Harriet and me. I found it too hard. Harriet found it too soft. Both of us agreed that it wasn’t right, but neither of us could agree on what the solution to our problem should be.

It was one of those irrational little problems that every couple runs into from time to time. It was an argument that, in the grand scheme of things, meant absolutely nothing. The kind of argument to spark an extra flare of energy into any relationship.

But looking back, what I’d give for that bed again, and all its imperfections.

What I’d give for Harriet to be beside me.

What I’d give for…

Dread.

Dread, rich and unwavering, right in the middle of my stomach, then spreading through my body.

I remembered everything in a flash. Everything I’d been holding off and trying to repress.

Harriet’s death.

My depression.

And the EMP, and everything that came with it…

I kept my eyes squeezed shut because I wanted to keep myself closed off from the world for just a little while longer. I wanted to believe that things weren’t as bad as I’d remembered them; that it was just a product of my over-active, over-sensitive imagination.

But I did open my eyes.

And what I saw was… not what I’d expected.

I was in a bedroom. I was lying on a mattress. A damned soft mattress at that.

For a few seconds, I wondered if maybe I was back home. I allowed myself to luxuriate in the possibility.

Then it struck me that this wasn’t my bedroom at all.

It was someone else’s.

I looked around. There were some white curtains to my left, which the sun shone through. I could feel a breeze blowing through the window, which made me shiver, otherwise I was warm under these covers.

I looked around this bedroom. I saw photographs of a family—a young family, dark haired, very beautiful couple. I saw jewellery on the dressing table. I saw neatly packed wardrobes, half open.

It looked so beautiful.

It looked so real.

I wanted to believe it.

Then something else hit me.

“Lionel,” I said.

He’d been with me. He’d been by my side. Wherever I was, I couldn’t leave him on his own. I had to know what’d happened to him. I had to…

In the corner of my eye, I saw Lionel lift his head.

“Lionel?”

He ran over to me and jumped on the bed, muddying it with his paws.

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