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)
They’re seated on the porch of the midcentury stone house they’ve settled into, while Dean and I stand a cautious distance away on the grass. None of us seem sick. No signs of fever or congestion or coughing. But it won’t hurt to be careful and take things slow.
The house sits a block up from the town square and has azaleas blooming by the front steps. Both Natalia and Leon are in their seventies, at a guess. He’s a retired police detective, and she worked as a bookkeeper. Her long braid is silver and the same goes for his short afro and beard. Leon has a shotgun within reach and isn’t hiding it. Which probably balances out whatever’s on Dean.
“How did you get that bruise on your face?” asks Natalia.
“It came care of some not-so-nice people we encountered out on the road the other day,” I answer. “Dean dealt with them. They won’t be bothering anyone again.”
Natalia nods. “Good.”
“I could do without any more company,” announces Leon. “But I suppose to stay here, we’re going to need help disposing of the bodies. And no doubt other jobs will arise.”
Dean nods. “Be happy to help, sir.”
“You look big enough to be useful. Let me guess…Marine?”
“That’s right.”
“Knew there was a reason I didn’t shoot you on sight,” says Leon pleasantly.
Natalia watches Sophie do cartwheels on the grass with a smile. “How did you all survive?”
Dean keeps his mouth closed. But a muscle shifts in his jaw. Yeah. Telling people he kidnapped and caged me probably isn’t the best idea. Not at the start. Not if we all want to stay. And what I do know about Dean for sure is that he would die for Sophie and me. Which is damn useful in an apocalypse.
“We were neighbors,” I say. “Dean had a friend in government circles who gave him warning last week. He told me I’d probably die horribly if I didn’t shelter in place with him. Then Sophie found us when we stopped in her town on Tuesday.” And it’s all sort of the truth. Sort of. Just leaving out the little fact that I was in a cage when he told me he was saving my life.
“She was alone?” asks Natalia.
I nod.
Leon sighs. “Poor child.”
“How about you two?” I ask.
“I didn’t even know it was happening,” says Leon. “Imagine my shock when I go to make my usual once-a-month grocery trip into town and find everyone has died.”
“Apart from me.” Natalia’s smile is hesitant. “He found me sipping warm sweet tea outside an ice-cream shop. I didn’t know what to do with myself. My daughter and her husband and all their three children caught the virus and died. Those poor sweet babies. I tended to all of them, but never had so much as a sniffle.”
My eyebrows reach for the sky. “You mean you’re immune? But you didn’t pass it on to Leon, so…”
“So, no Typhoid Mary,” says Dean. “That is welcome news.”
“I wasn’t sure who I should tell,” says Natalia. “If my blood could be used for a cure or what. But by the time I tried to call the government and the hospitals, there was no one left alive to answer. It all happened so quickly. My daughter died first, and I couldn’t…I couldn’t just…”
“Don’t upset yourself. You took care of your own and did your best,” says Leon, giving her hand another squeeze.
“And you can’t have been the only one,” adds Dean.
“Do you think so?” asks Natalia.
Dean turns to me and asks, “What did you say? Population of over three hundred million?”
“That’s right,” I say.
“There’s no way you were the only one, ma’am. They’d have found others and started doing testing. I think the virus just moved too damn fast for them to beat.”
This kindness earns us our welcome here as much as anything. Because Leon frowns heavily and says, “Look for the houses with a ribbon tied around the front door handle. They don’t have any dead bodies inside. Best to choose from one of them for your family.”
Dean wants a sensible brick house on the far side of town. But he loses the vote, two against one, to Sophie and me. Of course, we fall for a charming hundred-year-old wooden house situated a block behind Natalia and Leon. It’s painted blue and has a fireplace, butcherblock countertops, a clawfoot tub, and the necessary three bedrooms. There’s even a vegetable patch primed for spring planting out back. Solar has been installed on the roof, but there’s something wrong with the battery. Hopefully Dean can figure out the problem.
I think Sophie wants the house solely for the big old tree in the backyard with a tire swing. And fair enough.
As for me…this isn’t the sort of place I could have ever hoped to afford. It’s even situated on a large corner block with a view down to the creek. Not that property lines particularly matter now. But there’s grass and trees and room for us to breathe. To plant more garden beds. Outside is a firepit and a shed with tools and hunting gear. Which makes sense, given the deer’s head hanging on the living room wall. There’s also a back porch with a barbeque and comfy chairs.