Page 5 of Surviving Her

“I can’t remember the last time we did this, Lizzy,” her mother had complained, her tone soft but heavy with emotion. Eliza could still hear the way her mother’s voice had cut through the air like a knife. “Marlene across the street…her daughters, both of them, come home nearly every weekend. Isn’t that right, Henry?”

“Come on now. Eliza’s nothing like those girls. She’s got a whole truckload of responsibilities, Anne. But she hasn’t forgotten about us. I’m right, Liz, aren’t I?” her father had asked, looking over at her with a wink.

Eliza remembered how the words had hit her, how her chest had tightened with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. Asshe closed her eyes to steady herself, she could almost feel the wineglass in her hand, its smooth surface grounding her as she struggled to find the right words to explain herself. “You guys know I’m trying to build a life for myself,” she’d said, her tone firmer than she’d intended, as if she needed to convince herself as much as them. “It’s a goddamn balancing act every single day, but I’m doing my best.”

The room had fallen into a tense silence for a moment, the kind that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Her father looked at her with those same concerned eyes he’d always had, the ones that could see right through her. And then, out of the corner of her eye, she’d noticed her brother sitting quietly, his hands fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth.

Eliza had always known Michael to be the calm one, the peacekeeper, but when he finally spoke, it was like a wave crashing over Eliza, unexpected yet undeniably powerful. “Life can’t always just be about work, Eliza. Look, we get it. You’re a bigwig surgeon,” her brother had said softly, but with a hint of sarcasm. “But we miss you. These guys miss you a ton. And they want to spend time with you, not just hear about your successes.”

Eliza had felt something inside her crack at those words, a deep, uncomfortable feeling she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge. But instead of letting it show, she nodded and mumbled a response under her breath: “I’m not a surgeon anymore.” The rest of the evening had passed in a blur, with smiles and laughter that now felt strained and distant as she remembered them.

She’d brushed off their concerns at the time, telling herself they didn’t understand the pressure she was under or the weight of her responsibilities. But now, with her family unreachable and her beloved ER plunging into chaos, the guilt settled in her stomach like a stone.

“Dr. Carter!” Carla, one of the senior nurses, shouted, her voice cutting through the din like a siren. Eliza turned to see Carla bursting into the room, her face pale and lined with worry.

“We’ve got more patients coming in, and something’s up with the power,” Carla said breathlessly, her eyes wide with urgency. “The north wing is almost completely dark, and we’ve lost the computer system.”

Cold sweat started to form at the back of her neck, but she forced herself to stay focused. “Right. We need to start moving patients to a safer area,” she instructed, her voice steady despite the chaos around them. “Can you coordinate with the other departments and let them know what’s happening? Anyone who doesn’t need a bed doesn’t get a bed. Send as many people home as you can. What’s going on at the triage station?”

Carla nodded, determination replacing some of the fear in her eyes. “I’ll go find out. We’re running out of space and resources, though.”

As Carla dashed off, Eliza stepped outside of what had briefly served as her safe space and turned her attention back to the crowded ER. The smell of fear hung heavy in the air, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. The faces of the patients blurred together—some flushed with fever, others pale and clammy, their eyes wide with confusion and fear.

As Eliza moved through the hordes of people, she heard the low but constant ringing of high-pitched voices alongside the soft beeping of machines that seemed to punctuate every second. She noticed a small group of patients huddled together near the far wall, their faces a mix of dread and confusion. Their fear was palpable, a living, breathing thing that seemed to hang in the air around them.

She approached them slowly, trying to soften her expression and exude calm even though her heart was pounding. “We’re doing everything we can to help,” she said, her voice gentlebut firm. The words felt heavy on her tongue, each one a fragile attempt at comfort. “Please stay calm. We’re facing some challenges, but we’re here to support you.”

A middle-aged man, his clothes disheveled and stained, looked up at her with eyes that seemed too large for his gaunt face. His voice was rough and edged with desperation. “What’s going on? Is it really as dangerous as everyone’s saying?”

Eliza hesitated, feeling the weight of his question settle like a lead blanket over her shoulders. She searched his eyes for anything that might help her find the right words. “It seems like the situation is serious,” she finally said, her voice quieter now, tinged with the gravity of the moment. “But we’re doing our best to manage it. Right now, our focus is on providing the best care we can. Just try to stay calm and follow any instructions we give you.”

The man nodded slowly, though the panic in his eyes didn’t lessen. Eliza gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before moving on. Her thoughts kept drifting back to that night with her family and what they’d tried to tell her. The guilt gnawed at her, a constant, nagging presence that refused to be ignored.

As she attached a fluid line to a young man who was barely conscious, Eliza’s thoughts flickered to another memory—this time of Daniel, her ex-fiancé. They’d been sitting in their favorite café. The soft clink of spoons against porcelain cups had been the only sound between them for what seemed like an age.

“I just can’t seem to get you away from the hospital,” Daniel had said finally, his voice tight with frustration. Eliza could still see the way his hand had clenched around his coffee cup, the white of his knuckles standing out against his tanned skin. “When was the last time we spent any quality time together, Eliza? You never have time to plan this wedding. How will you ever marry me if you’re married to your job?”

She’d felt a familiar defensiveness rise in her, the same one that had surfaced during that dinner with her family. “Can’t you see that I’m working hard for our future?” she’d tried to explain. “You love your job. You know what it’s like. I want to be dedicated to my career. It’s important to me, Dan.”

But the words had hung heavy, lifeless and hollow, failing to bridge the growing chasm that had opened between them. Their morning coffee that day had ended with the same suffocating silence that had become all too familiar.

Their relationship had crumbled after that, and the love they’d once shared was now a distant memory. But as Eliza ran through that conversation in her mind, the breakup felt like a fresh wound, the pain of it sharper in the face of the crisis unfolding around her.

The situation in the ER was deteriorating rapidly. The power outages were growing more frequent, the lights flickering in and out like a failing heartbeat. Eliza jumped every time thunder rolled outside the hospital with a deep, bone-shaking rumble.

“Dr. Carter! Come! Quick! We’ve got another issue!” Lopez’s voice croaked as he ran toward her, his brow slick with sweat. “The telephone lines are down now. The internet…I don’t know. We can’t contact the outside world or get any updates. I tried to phone people to come in to help, but my calls aren’t going through.”

Eliza’s stomach twisted, a sick feeling spreading through her as the gravity of the situation sank in. “Well, this is just fucking great, isn’t it?” she swore under her breath, her mind trying to imagine the implications of all this. “Listen, there’s not much I can do about it right now. We need to focus on keeping our patients safe and stable.”

Lopez nodded, his mouth turning downward. “I’ll take a couple of the boys and see if we can secure backup generators,but we might need to start thinking about evacuating if things get worse.”

The idea of evacuating the ER was terrifying, and the logistics were nearly impossible, but she knew it was a possibility they couldn’t ignore.

3

RIVER

River continued to trudge along the rain-slicked road to Campdale, each step carefully placed on the debris-strewn path. The storm had left the terrain in total disarray, with fallen branches and scattered junk making every maneuver a cautious one. The sky was heavy with clouds, mirroring River’s state of high anxiety as she pressed forward.

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