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)
“Very funny.”
“Thanks,” says the jerk with a smile. “Now we both know my experience with relationships is limited. But I’ve been giving this little problem between us some thought and I think I’ve got it figured out.”
I just wait.
“My theory is that you got sort of intimate with me, and you liked it, and now you’re not sure how you feel about things.” The forehead furrows make an appearance. He’s clearly having deep thoughts or big feelings or something. “Not sure if you’re worried about us getting closer, and the possibility of losing someone else since all of your friends and family died. That’s a lot of hurt to put on one heart. But it might also just be due to our complicated history.”
“And by history, you mean last week or so.” It’s hard to know what to say. “My honest answer is, I don’t know. Maybe. I need more time to think it through. Get comfortable with the idea maybe.”
“Okay.”
“You’re letting it go that easy?” I ask in surprise.
He takes a deep breath. “Here’s the thing…I have feelings for you.”
“I assumed they existed in some part of you. But are we talking in the pants or the heart?”
“Both.”
“So you want to fuck me, but you also want to cuddle me and listen to me speak nonsense.”
“That honestly sounds like a perfect date to me.”
I can’t hold back the smile.
“But you’re still making up your mind,” he says. “You’re attracted to me, but you’re wary. I’m here when you’re ready to talk about it.”
“Thank you.” Which makes it the perfect time for a change of topic. “How long are you going to keep doing the night watches?”
“Not sure.”
“You haven’t seen anything?”
“No. It’s been quiet.”
“That’s good,” I say. “But if you feel it needs to be an ongoing thing, then we all need to start doing our share.”
He raises a brow. “You’re thinking maybe it should be ongoing?”
“I haven’t forgotten those assholes who were there when we had to leave your place and when we got stopped out on the road. Heard anything interesting on the CB radio lately?”
“Three different people have declared themselves President, and there’s at least one king.”
I raise my brows. “Aim high, that’s what I always say.”
“Yeah.” He pauses. “And apparently, there’s a group forming to the south of us.”
“How close?”
“About an hour’s drive away. They’re inviting people to join them.”
“That’s not too close. Do they sound nice or not so much?”
“Hard to tell,” he says with a frown. “What they’re saying…it’s not really enough to get a feel for the situation.”
“But you don’t trust them. Of course, you don’t actually trust anyone, so that doesn’t necessarily mean much.”
“That’s not true. I trust you.”
This stops me. “You do?”
“Yes.” And he sounds so certain. But he doesn’t dwell on it. “Someone said the CDC in Atlanta is empty. Everyone there’s dead.”
“Disappointing but not exactly unexpected. Is the end-of-the-world station still playing songs?”
“Last night was Crowded House, ‘Don’t Dream It’s Over’. I keep thinking they’ll run out of songs, but no,” he says. “They played one called ‘Clarity’ that I liked. It was about how it takes the end of the world for this guy to realize that all he really cares about is the girl.”
Our eyes meet, and yeah. That’s a big no comment from me.
“I want you to teach me what you’re learning about gardening,” he says. “We’re going to need more than just you working on that side of food production in the future.”
“Okay.”
The parking lot of the behemoth store is mostly empty. Just a few cars here and there, along with some bodies rotting in the sun. Making your way through the world these days is like walking through a graveyard. Though it probably always was to some degree. Bodies were just usually buried before. Things are less neat and tidy now.
Dean parks the pickup alongside the front doors, ready to go in case of trouble. And Naomi and Charlie park alongside us. There’s no sign of smashed glass or forced entry. We might be the first people to stop by here post-apocalypse wise.
There’s a hill hiding the bulk of our view of the town to the west. Though we can see a thin line of smoke trailing up into the air. So there might be some people somewhere in the area. But everything seems quiet.
With a bolt cutter, Dean makes short work of the padlock and chains holding the front doors together. “I don’t like it,” he says. “This security doesn’t look original or official. Maybe we’re not the first ones who’ve checked out this place.”
Inside, however, all is orderly and still reasonably well stocked from what we can see. And it’s completely deserted.
“Let’s go shopping,” says Naomi, pushing a cart.
Dean gives me a nod before heading off in the opposite direction with Charlie.
The closest aisle has matches, fire starters, cooking grates, and heatproof gloves. Useful stuff for our firepit cooking. But every aisle seems to have something we could use. It isn’t long before I’m jogging back to the front of the store for a second cart. Their range of seeds far exceeds the local hardware store’s, and they have way more fertilizer on hand. Manure and peat moss apparently excite me now. Another change I didn’t see coming.