Title: Claim Day
Chapter 14: Surviving the Apocalypse
04/04/2025 — Ramona
I rubbed my eyes, feeling the grit of another sleepless night. The MRI room had obviously never been designed for extended habitation, or habitation at all, and after nearly twenty-four hours, the limitations were becoming painfully apparent. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of unwashed bodies and the metallic tang of electronic equipment running continuously.
Gabriel sat hunched on the floor against the wall, his face buried in his hands as his shoulders shook with silent sobs. I knelt beside him, awkwardly patting his shoulder. Comfort had never been my strong suit. I dealt in facts, data, solutions, but seeing this man, usually so composed, completely broken down stirred something uncomfortably like empathy in me.
“We’re going to work as quickly as we can,” I said, trying to inject certainty into my voice. “You’ll get your wife back, Gabriel.”
The words tasted false on my tongue. I had no business making such promises. The data was insufficient to support any timeline for a solution, let alone guarantee success. But I’d learned long ago that sometimes people needed hope more than they needed truth. And right now, Gabriel needed to be functional.
Phoebe glanced up from her workstation in the corner, her expression a mixture of pity and revulsion. She hadn’t said much since we’d discussed the claiming of female scientists, but her disapproval radiated from every tense line of her body. I couldn’t blame her. The entire situation was morally repugnant, even if it had been necessary.
Gabriel sniffed loudly, looking around before locating a box of tissues on a nearby counter. He blew his nose with unnecessary force. “Have you made any progress?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“We need the other women working on the problem,” I reminded him gently. “We’ve been focusing on how to organize the team, not actually working on the problem itself.”
A sharp knock at the door interrupted us. Phoebe and I immediately moved to the safe corner. Duncan entered first, followed by Dr. Smith and Edward Barrett. They squeezed into the already cramped space, finding seats wherever they could.
“Thank you for coming,” I said, straightening my posture. Time to be the leader they needed. “Now that we’ve secured the team we need, we can begin our work in earnest.”
Everyone in the room knew we had only half the scientists I’d wanted, but there was no point dwelling on what we couldn’t change.
“We’ll need you to gather everyone in the auditorium for a briefing,” I continued. “It’s vital that the claimed women understand they need to work for Phoebe and me. Their… owners…” I couldn’t keep the distaste from my voice, “need to make this absolutely clear.”
Edward’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re planning to leave the MRI room to brief them?”
“Obviously not,” Phoebe interjected, her tone sharp. “We need to stay protected in here. We’ll do a video conference and stay in touch with the team through the internal network.”
Duncan shifted uncomfortably. “About that… I’m worried about power consumption.”
Gabriel looked surprised. “Why would that be a problem?”
Edward nodded grimly, as if he’d already considered this. “We can’t rely on the grid now, can we?”
“I don’t follow,” Gabriel said, frowning. “You think we’ll be cut off?”
I sighed, removing my glasses to pinch the bridge of my nose. “With half the human population claimed, many of them displaced, and a significant number of men likely in hiding after what they’ve done, it’s highly probable that basic infrastructure is not being maintained.” I replaced my glasses, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “I expect power to shut down between now and within a couple of weeks at most. Water would follow shortly after, since it requires electricity to pump and purify.”
The gravity of my words settled over the room like a shroud.
“Cell networks will probably become spotty and dysfunctional by the end of the week no matter what,” I continued. “The internet could theoretically last up to a month, but once power is out, it will be gone as well.”
Gabriel buried his face in his hands, groaning. “I should have realized this sooner. The infrastructure collapse, the power grid… it’s so obvious now.”
I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy. Gabriel was brilliant at operations management, but his mind didn’t naturally drift toward worst-case scenarios the way mine did. Or Duncan’s, with his perpetual preparedness for disaster. Or Edward’s, with his security-focused paranoia.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” I said, more gently than I typically would. “We’ve all been focused on the immediate crisis.”
Duncan cleared his throat, pulling a small notebook from his cargo pants pocket. “The institute’s solar array can generate up to 300 kilowatts in optimal conditions, but spring weather is unpredictable.” He flipped through several pages of densely written notes. “The battery banks store approximately one megawatt-hour, which would power critical functions for a reduced team for six to twelve hours, depending on usage. But if we’re running power-intensive equipment like MRIs or electron microscopes…” He trailed off with a grimace.
“I’ll give you a prioritized list of the most vital equipment,” I said, already mentally cataloging what we’d need. “You’ll be in charge of centralizing everything in the biology wing. If external power is shut down we’ll have to cut power to the other wings entirely and figure out how to operate with just the battery banks and solar panels.”
“If it happens we might need to schedule certain operations for sunny days only,” Duncan muttered, scribbling in his notebook.
Phoebe leaned forward, her curls falling across her face. “Obviously, this MRI room is now our command center, not medical equipment. Can the second MRI upstairs be brought back online? The older model?”
Duncan nodded thoughtfully. “It’s been offline for maintenance, but I could probably get it running. It’ll draw more power than this newer model, though.”
“I can help with that,” Dr. Smith offered, his white beard catching the fluorescent light. “I could bring my claimed women as well. Dr. Dressen has experience with the older models.”
“Couldn’t you relocate to the older MRI and free this room for use as intended?” Edward suggested, gesturing at the equipment surrounding us.
“It isn’t an option,” I said firmly. “We can’t risk stepping out, even for a moment. We don’t know if and when the Source might transmit again. Besides, the older MRI’s shielding is suboptimal. It would not block VLF signals.”
Duncan grunted, crossing his arms. “Alright then...”
I turned to Edward, whose face remained impassive as always. “Security is going to be even more critical now. We need to ensure no one interferes with our work, and we need to be vigilant for any attempt by the Source, whatever or whoever it is, to disrupt our operations.”
Edward nodded once, a sharp military acknowledgment. “Already on it. I’ve established rotating patrols and secured all entry points. Rodriguez and Reeves are setting up additional cameras at the perimeter.”
“Food is going to be a problem,” Duncan interjected. “Fresh food policies are going to bite us in the ass now. We have a two-week supply, and that’s if we stretch it.”
I nodded, appreciating how his mind worked. “We’ll need to prioritize securing additional supplies before the city’s infrastructure breaks down.”
“I’ll see if I can locate any caches of nonperishable goods in the surrounding buildings,” Edward offered. “And we might need to consider hunting and fishing in the local rivers and woods, once everything else runs out. I don’t think heading into down would be wise.”
“I have some emergency rations in my... basement,” Duncan muttered, looking like he’d prefer not to discuss it. “Though I live a fair ways from here. I could try to retrieve them. They’re not meant to support twenty people, though. It would buy us time, but not much.”
I nodded. “Thank you. That would be appreciated. We need all the time we can get.”
The room fell silent, each of us contemplating the enormity of the challenge before us.
Dr. Smith shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brow furrowed with concern. “Has anyone else noticed the complete absence of federal government response? Just a few lower-level officials posting contradictory statements on social media. It’s as if the entire chain of command has vanished.”
Edward leaned forward, his expression grim. “It’s not just the government. Major media outlets have gone dark too. Most TV channels are dead air. Only a few local stations are still broadcasting, and they’re running on skeleton crews with minimal information.”
He ran a hand over his close-cropped hair. “Radio is making a comeback, though. Mostly amateurs who don’t give a damn about FCC regulations anymore. But from what I’ve picked up, it’s a lot of conspiracy theories and doomsday preachers.”
I nodded, unsurprised. I’d been monitoring what little information was still flowing through the internet from our protected room.
“The lack of announcements from high-ranking government officials suggests one of two possibilities,” I said, folding my hands in my lap. “Either they’re complicit in whatever this ‘Source’ is, or they’ve been silenced. Most likely both. The president, cabinet members, congressional leadership—all missing from public view.”
I glanced at the others. “As for the media blackout, it’s hardly surprising. How do you run a television network when half your staff has either fled or been claimed? The other half is either out claiming women themselves or desperately trying to protect their families.”
I shrugged. “Besides, these are profit-driven enterprises. There’s no money to be made in this new world order. Advertising revenue would be non-existent.”
Phoebe snorted from her corner. “Yeah, not much point bombarding viewers with ads for erectile dysfunction pills and luxury cars when everyone’s either busy surviving or—” her voice dripped with contempt, “—enslaving women.” She pushed her hair back from her face with an irritated gesture. “Besides, it’s not like anyone’s manufacturing or distributing that crap anymore.”
I raised my hand, signaling it was time to wrap up. “We’ll need more time to go over all the details, but for now, our priority is getting the claimed women started on the problem. Duncan, make sure the auditorium is set up for video conferencing within the hour.”
Phoebe’s face remained carefully neutral, but I’d known her long enough to read the tension in her jaw, the slight furrow between her brows. She clearly despised the idea of using what amounted to slave labor, even if those slaves were already claimed and we had no better alternative.
The men filed out one by one as we stood in the null-zone, with Gabriel lingering at the door, his eyes haunted, before disappearing into the corridor.
“You’ve been quiet,” I observed, studying Phoebe’s face. “What’s going through that brilliant mind of yours?”
Phoebe sank down onto one of the makeshift sleeping pads we’d arranged on the floor. “This isn’t going to work long-term, Ramona.”
“Define ‘long-term,’” I said, sitting across from her.
She ran both hands through her already disheveled hair. “A few weeks, at most.” She lowered her voice, though we were alone. “Look, I trust these guys… Well, maybe Edward a little less than the others, but we’ve just handed them each a personal harem of brilliant, beautiful women who will do anything they want. Anything.”
I nodded, waiting for her to continue.
“They might start with the best intentions,” she went on, “but sooner or later, they’re going to indulge themselves. Maybe just a little at first. Maybe they’ll tell themselves it’s for stress relief, or that the women offered, or whatever justification helps them sleep at night. But once they cross that line…” She shook her head. “Once they realize the power they have, why would they ever give it up? Why would they help us free women who currently worship the ground they walk on?”
I sighed, removing my glasses to rub the bridge of my nose. “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
“You have?”
“Of course. I’m not a fool.” I replaced my glasses. “Human nature is predictable. Power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. They may be allies now, but that could change the moment they realize what they stand to lose.”
Phoebe’s eyes met mine, a silent understanding passing between us.
“It’s worth than that,” she said, her voice low. “Once they start giving in to their desires...”
“The fear of repercussions might dissuade them from wanting to release their women,” I concluded. “They wouldn’t want to face judgment or punishment. I’m painfully aware of that, Phoebe.”
My friend leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, relaxing slightly. “Gabriel is the only one with a strong incentive to keep working toward a solution,” she mused. “He wants his wife back.”
“Indeed,” I agreed. “That’s why I’m ashamed to admit I’m thankful his wife was claimed by his friend. It provides the perfect motivation for him to keep the others in check.”
“That might not be enough...” she argued.
“Then we work harder and faster,” I said firmly. “Before our allies become our enemies. Which, I suspect, may happen sooner rather than later, no matter how much I’d like to believe otherwise.”