Malice: After Dark

A Cold Day in Hell by Katrina Crane

A Cold Day in Hell (Part One)

Summary: "It will be a cold day in hell when I come crawling back to you, Dorian." Those were the last words Olivia spoke to her husband the day the world ended. At the time she could have had no idea that they would be so prophetic.

This short story is a post-apocalyptic romantic tragedy. Each chapter title in part one is from a Robert Frost poem that I like. Each poem/title will somehow relate to the theme of life, death, nature, love, and heartbreak. 

Genre: Post-apocalyptic Tragic Romance

Rating: PG-13

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Cold Day in Hell • Part One

A Question by Robert Frost

A voice said, Look me in the stars

and tell me truly, men of earth,

if all the soul-and-body scars

were not too much to pay for birth.

Prologue

"Sir! Step away from the container and place your hands on your head!"

Everyone in the airport had frozen, their attention captivated by the man under arrest, but instinct was telling Olivia to run. Apparently she wasn't the only one with that idea because only a minute passed before a shout rang out from somewhere behind her.

"He's got a bomb! Run!"

Screams echoed off the walls as people immediately began stampeding toward the exits in fear of an attack. But it was too late. Olivia watched in horror as the man tossed the container toward them and it released the pressurized air from inside.

It wasn't a bomb, but it was no less dangerous or deadly. Being married to a biomedical scientist meant she knew a bioweapon when she saw one. She held her breath, but knew it wouldn't make any difference if she didn't get out of the room soon. Who knew what diseases or toxins were inside that tube?

"Everyone remain calm!" a voice shouted over the commotion. "Please remain inside until the threat is contained."

The command went ignored and people poured out the doors in dozens. Officers began trying to close the doors and calm the situation, but in the end there were too few of them to stop the mass of bodies fighting to get out.

If only they had stayed inside, waited for help to come, maybe they could have spared the rest of the world their fate. But the crowd chose anarchy instead of reason.

And in the end the world didn't end in ice or fire, but in madness.

...

(1) and miles to go before I sleep*

The stench of rotting flesh and decay filled Olivia's lungs as she woke. A gagging cough worked its way from her throat out of reflex, but she had grown accustomed to the smell.

Exhaustion weighed her down and it took several tries for her to blink open her crusty eyes and even longer for her surroundings to come into focus. While she may have gotten used to the smell, time had not dulled the horror of seeing her own flesh rotting away. Patches of blackened skin spread across her arms like mottled bruises, but far more painful – and deadly.

Sepsis was a horrible way to die.

Tears leaked down Olivia's scorching cheeks: her fever so high that the trail they made felt almost cool. A few pathetic whimpers escaped her lips before she could rein them in.