I look around and see strange equipment. One is making a beeping sound.
Am I in a hospital?
That’s impossible…
A woman in a white lab coat with a clipboard in hand approaches. She begins writing down numbers from a monitor I’m hooked up to.
“It was all a dream?”
She spikes a brow. “That depends on what you’re talking about. Did the apocalypse happen? Yes, it did.”
“Why am I here?”
“You were shot near the shoulder and could have very well bled out if you’d got to us even a minute later than you had. You’re damn lucky to be here right now.”
I try to look at my shoulder, but my muscles ache.
“In case you don’t know where you are, you’re at the Keep. It’s basically a big ass bunker beneath the ground. There’s food, water, and protection. You’re going to be okay.”
“How did I get here?” My throat burns when I talk.
“Hunter brought you.”
Hearing his name makes me frantic with worry. “Where is he? Is he okay?”
“He’s in the Keep’s holding.”
“When do I get to see him?”
“You don’t,” a new voice cuts in.
I look over to see a man in the doorway. He’s so large, he practically takes up the entire frame.
“Is he okay?”
“He is, but he won’t be.”
“Is he injured?”
“Leave my patient alone!” The woman tries to push the man from the room.
Despite the torn feeling in my throat, I bark out, “No, don’t—I want to know where Hunter is.”
The man walks past the woman and pulls a chair over to my bedside. He’s older than Hunter, though not old, with a dark beard that hides his age.
The woman’s face is red with anger. “She just woke up and needs time—”
The man looks up at her, completely calm. “I don’t give a fuck. Now you can either stay here or leave, but I don’t want to hear another fucking peep out of you.”
Dread washes over me because I know the kind of men that talk to women like that.
The man looks over at me. “It’s good to see you’re not dead.”
“Why? Because I won’t be worth as much?”
“Correct.”
“Well, fuck the hell off.”
