Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“I know this stuff isn’t great. It’s not what I had planned, but we had to leave my place in a rush.”
“We have food, and I’m grateful. Really. Just trying to figure things out,” I say. “No doctors and nurses means we need to be mindful of our health, right?”
He sits with his back against the trunk of an elm tree. “Given the rate at which this virus works, we should be mostly safe from it within another day or two. By then, anyone who has it should be dead.”
“Okay. So we could maybe hunt up some multivitamins and see what else is on the menu, then?”
“Yeah. But we still have to worry about raiders. Like those people who were coming to break into the house. They may have been after more than just stuff. You get that, right?” His forehead fills with furrows. “Some of the survivors will only do what they need to get by. But others will get off on hurting people, and there’s no one to stop them now. Not necessarily any consequences to their actions. Someone stealing our shit is one thing. But rape, torture, murder…”
“You’re trying to scare me.”
“Doesn’t make it any less the truth.”
“I know.” Time to give lunch the taste test. “Cheesy.”
“Please tell me you’ll be careful and take the threat seriously.”
“I will be careful.”
“Thank you,” he says, stirring the contents of his own pouch. “I appreciate you sticking with me and giving this a chance.”
I smile. “I am not an idiot, Dean. This new world scares the shit out of me.”
“You don’t show it.”
“Bravado is my bitch. But I acknowledge that my chances of survival are better with you than they would be on my own. Though that may change as time goes by. I don’t know.”
He half smiles and asks, “How’d you end up in Oregon?”
“Followed a boyfriend. Wound up dumping him but decided to stay. Portland had a good music scene. Cool shops and cafés.”
He just nods.
“You were never tempted to leave?” I ask.
“Nuh.”
We’re back to one-word answers. This won’t do. “Tell me about your exes,” I say.
The way his wary gaze jumps to my face, it would seem I have startled the man. “Why do you want to know about them?”
“Because I want to know about you.”
Such a heavy frown. Oof. “There were a few. None of them lasted more than a year or so.”
“Why is that?”
He shovels a forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth. Such a great way to get around having to answer. But I am patient as can be. When he finally finishes chewing and swallowing, he says, “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
“They wanted more than I had to give.”
“There you go.” I take another sip of water. “Your commitment issues sure changed quickly.”
“Funnily enough, news of the world ending sort of shocked the fuck out of me.”
“It’s going around.” I nod. “How long have you been watching me?”
He sighs. “It wasn’t like I was stalking you or anything. I just tended to notice you.”
“You don’t think this maybe all goes a little beyond tending to notice someone?”
Nothing from him. But his expression is guilty as sin.
“You know, you could have asked me out like a normal person.”
“Like I said…I’m not good at relationships. I didn’t think I had anything to offer you. And I didn’t think that was what I really wanted until any chance of having it was almost gone,” he says. “They make you do all these tests when you join the Marines. Not just physical, but mental resilience and emotional stability.”
“Okay.”
He stares off at nothing for a long moment before saying, “I tend to avoid engaging with things on an emotional level.”
“That’s the conclusion they came to, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think it’s accurate?”
His small smile is as wry as can be. “Don’t you?”
“I might have to give that some thought.” I eat some more of the mac and cheese. “We need to practice gratitude. It’s important for general happiness. Research has shown it reduces stress and can improve your soundness of mind, which seems particularly pertinent to our situation.”
“That can’t be right,” he says. “You’re making that up, aren’t you?”
“No. Today I am grateful to not have to pay back my student loans. Those predatory interest rates. Such a scam of a system. What about you?”
This small line appears between his brows. “Glad I don’t have to worry about medical insurance anymore.”
“Yeah. Just out of interest…what are you going to miss?”
“Football.” He’s such a dude. Honestly. “What about you?”
“Friends and family.”
His expression sobers. But his mouth stays shut. What is there to say?
I clear my throat. “I was researching places for a summer holiday with my family. Small towns that were peaceful, heavy on charm and low on people. Not too expensive, though that no longer matters. I found a place called Wolf Creek a couple of hours north of San Francisco. Population five hundred. Not particularly on the way to anywhere important. It’s situated between the coastal towns and a wine region.”