Apokalypsis | Book 6 | Apokalypsis 6 Morris, Kate (cheapest way to read ebooks TXT) 📖

honey. She was so glad Jane thought to get her grandmother’s bee boxes. Avery didn’t necessarily know much about bees or their care, but she was resolutely ready to learn. If this thing didn’t end soon and the country return to normalcy, they’d need the honey just for sugar. She’d read in a medical book recently that honey was good for deep wound care, as well. It seemed all any of them did in their spare time was read medical books, gardening books, or hunting, fishing, and survival magazines they’d taken from the library like there was going to be a test on it.

“Tea?” she asked him and got a silent shake of his dark head. “Come back up with me, Tristan.”

She held out her hand, which he took, and she led them back upstairs with her mug in the other.

“Wish we could turn on the lights. It seems like those things are gone now.”

He climbed into bed on his side and said, “Doesn’t seem like a good idea, Angel. Complacency with the rules could get one of us killed.”

Avery sipped her tea in the dark as Biscuit hopped back onto the bed, using the tufted bench at the foot of it for assistance. She always seemed content to curl up at their feet. Tristan didn’t complain about her, though, which she figured he would’ve. He did say as long as she didn’t become yippy and bark at the slightest provocation, she could stay. If she did, then she’d have to go. The other one, too. They couldn’t take the risk of them attracting crawlers if they were nearby. So far, she’d only actually barked one time, which had been when Mr. Grey had flapped its wings dramatically at her. Since then, they learned to keep the avian and the canines of the house from intermingling.

Tristan had his phone on and was scrolling.

“What’s that? Do you have service?” she inquired.

He shook his head. “No, just some stuff I downloaded and saved the last time I did get service last week.”

“Like what?”

He glanced down at her as she climbed closer and gave a shrug.

“What is it?” she asked again. “Tristan.”

Finally, he answered, “Pictures. I want to see what we’re going to be dealing with, okay? I know it’s gross. You shouldn’t look. I don’t want you to get upset.”

“What are you talking about? The infected? Are you still worried one of us will become sick?”

He looked stymied momentarily and then shook his head, “No, not the infected. It’s birth pictures. Women in labor, that kind of stuff. I thought the more realistic stuff I could dig up, the better. We don’t exactly have a doctor around. Not even a nurse. Hell, I’d even be happy with a paramedic at this point, but we don’t know anyone.”

“So, you’re looking at pictures of women giving birth?”

He nodded. “Yeah, weird. I know, but we need to know what we’re walking into.”

“Women have given birth since the beginning of time. Literally! I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she lied. Avery was scared to death. She knew Tristan was worried terribly, so she kept lying and trying to convince him everything would be just peachy keen. He was doing the same. Liars. It’s what they’d become. Inside, her stomach twisted in knots at the thought of doing this without help.

“Yeah, I know,” he conceded. “It’s just that we don’t really know anything about this. I want to know that what’s going on with you in every phase of labor or delivery is normal. Same for the baby. Renee’s studying hard, too.”

She rubbed his shoulder and tried to offer a small smile of encouragement. “I’ll be fine.”

“Not fine,” he argued. “You’ve been so sick lately.”

This time she grinned, “I think that’s called pregnancy, unfortunately.”

“I’ve been reading those books. This all seems really dangerous. Maybe we should consider taking you to one of the FEMA medical camps.”

“What?” Avery gasped. “No way, Tristan. I’m not going to one of those.”

“But doctors are there. They said they’re safe.”

“On the news!” she said, raising her voice and then quickly lowering it again. “They lied to us when this all started, or we wouldn’t be in this situation, to begin with. People could’ve prepared better. We can’t trust them.”

“But we’re not doctors. If something goes wrong, we’re going to be in real trouble.”

“The weather will be better by then,” she said. “In an emergency, if things don’t seem to be going along smoothly, then you’ll be able to rush me to a camp. Other than that, no way.”

“But—”

She sat up a little straighter. “No way, Tristan. You know what they’ve been saying on the broadcasts. They want people who’ve had the virus to report to these camps, too. They want to find out why we healed when others didn’t. That means they’ll experiment on us or keep us there. If they find out I’ve had it, I’ll never get to come back home!”

“Maybe that would be a good thing. At least for a while. You and the baby could stay there. Maybe it would be safer.”

She slugged his shoulder. Hard. He even startled and stared at her as if angry. The fire in his eyes dissipated quickly, though, and he just looked upset.

Avery said, “Are you crazy? I’m not safe anywhere but here with you. I’m never going to one of those places. They could determine it’s for the ‘greater good’ to keep us indefinitely.” She used air quotes to drive home her point. “What if they kept me for a year? Longer. What if they kept our baby there and poked and prodded at him.”

His head snapped up. “Him?”

“Or her. Who knows? That’s not the point,” she reminded him, getting a quick transitional look from excitement to disappointment again. “The point is that they could keep us. And besides, nobody knows if those places are safe. They tell people they’re safe, but Gyles told us that the one he was at wasn’t safe at all.”

He nodded, but Avery could tell it was