Read Krisis (After the Cure Book 3) for Free Online

you’ll be safe. They’re just hungry, it’s past dinner time.”
    Feeding time, Ruth thought and then was ashamed. Juliana led her through the large entry that was dimly lit with gas lamps. The building was very old and Juliana seemed to be using all of its pre-electric advantages. But she would run out of gas soon, Ruth knew. And then what? They passed at least twenty rooms and Ruth wondered how on earth she was finding food to feed them all. Or water to bathe them. Or if she really was. Maybe Juliana was the world’s new version of an animal hoarder. Maybe she thought she was helping but was really just starving them slower. Something scraped against a metal door next to Ruth, making her shudder. She couldn’t be certain, but she imagined it was somebody’s teeth. “How many do you have Juliana?” she had to shout to be heard, even though the walls and doors were thick and muffled a good deal of the noise.
    “A few dozen right now,” said Juliana, “but people bring me more from time to time.” They passed most of the occupied rooms and left the growls and wails behind them. Juliana pushed through some swinging doors at the end of the hall and passed into a large stone floored kitchen. A large woodstove sat in the center, and Ruth had the feeling of stepping into some older, better time.
    “I need to start dinner. You can join me or you can start inspecting the patients if you like. You will be safe, but I’d also like to learn what to do, you know, in case you can’t be here.”
    Ruth looked around the empty kitchen. “How do you feed them all?” she asked, thinking of all the days she and Charlie and Bill had gone hungry when she couldn’t find any cans to scavenge.
    “The first winter was something of a trick,” said Juliana moving toward another set of doors, “but there were only three of us then, so I managed. I won’t lie, some days we were all hungry. But in the spring I remembered the botanic gardens had a victory garden patch and I— well, I’m not proud of it, but I stole some vegetables and some seeds. Next year I’ll replant some things and expand it a little, but I needed those things to feed these people. I found a tiller there too and a little gas. I was measuring a plot when I found you this morning. Next year will be harder, but I’ll get someone with a horse to come and rig up the tiller. Mostly since then, people have donated things. Food, time, medicine. I pretty much run this place, but when I take someone in, I ask for help. Most people are happy to give it. They come visit their loved one and spend some time weeding the garden or bathing the Infected or just drop off scavenged goods. They are relieved that they aren’t having to do it every day anymore. Or maybe they just feel guilty. Either way, I need the help.”
    She opened the doors and they stepped into a pantry with more canned food than Ruth had seen in over a year. What before would have simply seemed like an average stocked kitchen to Ruth, now seemed mythic. She touched the paper labels on some soup cans. “Those apples, for example, came from the Park. One of the families brought me those this fall. Who knew apple trees grew in all this concrete?” Ruth glanced over where Juliana had waved her hand. There were bins of fresh potatoes and apples and carrots. Ruth’s mouth started to water. Suddenly, a thought occurred to her. She shook her head and turned to leave the pantry.
    “No way. This is a death trap. I’m leaving right now.” Her legs shook underneath her.
    “What? What are you talking about? This isn’t a trap. Have I done anything to threaten you?” Juliana held out her hands to stop Ruth.
    “No, this is some kind of sick joke. Nobody has this stuff. Fresh fruit? Are you crazy? What’s the deal? Do you bring people here, show them the huge bounty of food they could have and then trap them and let the Infected get them? That’s how you feed them, isn’t it? You just throw innocent people to