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)
“Not a clue. We don’t even know exactly who Patient Zero is. Two cases seemed to present at the same time. One in Asia and one in Europe. And it’s not like the one in New York was far behind. Where this thing originated is still a damn mystery.”
“Hmm. But back to the point I was making about you not needing to keep me safe.”
“I am listening,” he says.
“By your own reckoning, even in the worst-case scenario, thousands of people are going to survive this. There will be others out there for you to be friends with. Many of them like-minded, forwarded-thinking souls such as yourself. Companions far better suited to the task of living in the post-apocalyptic landscape that you believe our once great nation will become. And this is wonderful news, because you can open the cage door and set me free. Which is, in essence, setting yourself free from the staggering burden of the immense amount of guilt and shame you’ve placed upon yourself by doing this deeply and profoundly shitty thing to me.
“Dean…no one even needs to know this happened. We can just keep this whole awkward situation between you and me forever and ever, the end.”
He stops hitting the speed bag. “That was an impressive speech. It’s good that you’re thinking strategically about this.”
“Thanks.”
“Still not setting you free.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why not?”
“You’d last five minutes without catching it, out of that cage,” he says.
“I am not your responsibility. I am not your anything.”
“We need to start talking about what happens when we leave here.”
“You mean in your imaginary world where it’s okay to take me prisoner because everyone else is about to die?”
“That’s the one. You’re getting worked up again, aren’t you?” he asks. “Just breathe, Astrid. Everything is okay.”
“Bullshit it is.” I close my eyelids tight and think calm thoughts for a minute. It mostly works.
“When we leave here, we’re going to wait until things have quieted down and the chances of us crossing paths with anyone are unlikely.” His cell chimes over on the sofa and he picks it up.
“Update from your friend?”
“Yeah.” His dark brows draw down. “Her, uh, wife passed during the night, and she’s started showing symptoms. Fuck. They were going to have a child. She was so excited.”
This stops me. And if he’s lying, then the man deserves an acting award, because his expression is honestly kind of gutted. “I’m sorry.”
“She knew it was a risk to carry on working. I told her they needed to isolate. But she was always big on duty and getting the job done, you know?” He frowns and sets the phone back down. “Like I was saying…once most of the people are gone, it’ll be safer. I know it sounds callous, but it’s the truth. We know the virus needs a live host and it only lasts an hour or so on surfaces. But what we don’t know is if there are people who are immune—”
“You’re thinking they could be carriers, like Typhoid Mary. People who have the virus and pass it on despite not showing any symptoms.”
“Yeah. If that’s what the situation evolves into, things are going to get brutal.” His face is hard when he looks at me. “But I’ll keep you safe.”
The White House appears on the TV with the flag flying at half-mast. Then a serious-faced woman with white skin and blonde hair stands behind a podium, making an announcement. Words I never imagined seeing appear onscreen.
“The President has died from the virus,” I repeat dully.
Dean picks up the skipping rope. “My imaginary world seems to be getting more real by the minute.”
I shove my shaking hands into my pants pockets. No. Just no. Denial is my new best friend. Because this cannot be happening. There’s no way the world is fucking falling down around my ears.
Deep, even breaths. Again.
I wonder, if I annoy him enough will he release me? It’s honestly worth a go. The idea that he might hurt me doesn’t hold water. He just doesn’t seem the type. Though I didn’t think he would kidnap me and keep my prisoner, so what do I know? Not a damn thing, as it turns out.
“Why not just chain me to something instead of building this?” I ask.
He keeps on skipping. “The cage is safer.”
“And this house is where you want to live after everything goes boom?”
“No. Leaving the city will be necessary to get away from the dead.”
“Because they’ll be zombies?”
He gives me so much side-eye. “Because they’ll be breeding diseases and smelling fucking awful. The cities are going to turn into graveyards.”
“Where are you thinking of going?”
“Cabin in the woods. Somewhere we can aim to be at least partially self-sufficient.”
“I would make the worst fucking tradwife. Just awful. You get that, right?”
He just laughs. Ugh.
“So just to reiterate, there’s no special person in your life who might perhaps, oh, I don’t know, voluntarily stay with you during the apocalypse?”