Only Love Survives (Love and Zombies) (17 page)

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going with me when I leave here?”

She lifted her face to look up at him. “I don’t know.”

“Tell me why you came here, Megan.”

“I can’t.” She turned away from him and he pretended it didn’t feel like a sucker punch to the gut.

This wasn’t over, and she’d better buckle up for the ride. He leaned down and nibbled on the back of her neck with every intention of getting it out of her this very night.

Chapter Twelve

Megan spread everything she owned out on the bed while Sam showered. Last night she’d come so close to telling him her secret, more than once. He was a shrewd negotiator, and her body hummed with a sweet ache from his efforts. But, he was also full of a hatred that could not be ignored. She rolled her old clothes, which were crisp from drying under the heat lamp in the bathroom all night and stuffed them into her bags. Two bags.

Funny, she’d accumulated more belongings in the last week than she’d owned in three months. Laying things out in order of priority, Megan filled her pack first then the messenger bag, ending with the bag of candy. Good thing she didn’t have to haul all this around anymore.

She’d finally made it to Vegas.
Now what?
She hadn’t formed a plan any further than getting here.

When Sam got out of the shower, they would check in, then head over to the medical building. Megan shivered.
What if the stories were true?
She set the bags aside and went to the window. The drape made a scraping noise as she pulled it back to expose the ugly truth of what the world had become. What if they weren’t true? What if she turned and ran, and in her cowardice condemned the world to all this?

The bathroom door opened and steam followed Sam into the room. He sauntered over with a towel wrapped low on his hips. She turned to gaze back out the window and took a deep breath. “So many creatures must have died when they did this.”

“Why do you care what happened to them?”

Megan let the drape fall. “They were people once, just like you and me.” She turned and faced him. “They
are
people who have lost everything, including their souls. Why do you hate them so much?”

“When my parents died, I was eighteen and Summer was only thirteen. I scraped and hustled and built an empire out of nothing to provide for us.” He pointed toward the window. “They took it all from me. Everything I worked for.”

“They had everything taken from them as well, including their humanity.”

He looked at her stunned, as if she’d slapped him. Then he came to life again.

“You’re right.” He rubbed his body with the towel with unnecessary vigor while he talked. “But there’s nothing human left of them. They’re nothing more than animals trying to kill us.” He turned and tossed the towel on a chair, then reached for his jeans on the other side of the bed.

Megan listened, not immune to the anger behind his voice. Her hand went to her wrist without meaning to and she shivered. The sorrow she felt for him and everyone else who’d become a ghost of themselves gave her the boost of courage she needed.

Megan hung the messenger bag in the closet. She’d wear the pack as always, but leave the new bag behind. When Sam left with his sister, Megan would stay here. The knowledge their paths would part later that day forced tears to her eyes. Megan blinked them back.

“You ready?” He walked to the door.

“Yep.” Megan wiped her eyes before she joined him, lest he see the tears and ask what was wrong. She wasn’t up for a rehashing of their conversation the night before. He all but demanded she tell him her secret. But Sam would hate her afterwards, and that she could not bear.

When the elevator doors slid closed in front of them it still made her uneasy, but not like the panicked feeling the first time. Downstairs, Sam led her to the manager’s door and knocked. A rotund man answered and invited them in.

“Sam and Megan Woods.” Sam reached out and shook the man’s hand while he lied.

Megan had forgotten about the older couple’s warning and tried not to let the jolt show. To hide her shock, she turned and pretended to examine the flowcharts and schedules that wallpapered the room.

“Please sit down.” The man showed them to some seats and joined them from across the desk. “So here’s how it works. You will be assigned a job. You have to check in at that job daily. As long as you do, your room will stay assigned to you. If you don’t check in, your room is unassigned, cleaned out and anything left in there is taken to the store.”

“How are the jobs chosen and what is the work schedule?” Sam lent voice to the very questions that raced through Megan’s mind.

“The jobs are chosen by lottery. You will draw for your family here in a minute. We try to keep families together even while they are working. People tend to worry less that way. The schedule is sun up to sundown, every other day. There are no weekends. There are no holidays.”

“Why every other day?” Megan thought it was a strange way to do things.

“Nobody forgets their schedule that way. People work hard for a day, then rest a day. You are expected to work until the supervisor tells everyone to knock off at the same time. It can be as long as ten hours, depending on the task. There are no exceptions and records are kept. Your accommodations here rely on your participation.”

“And not pissing off the foreman, it would seem.” Sam had a valid point.

“Any grievances should be brought here. We don’t want people out there abusing the system. It was designed to be as fair as possible. The idea being, we’re all in this together.”

“Is there a school set up? I’m a teacher.” Megan threw her hat in the ring.

“Not yet. We can’t seem to separate the children from their parents. And I know I want my son as close to me as possible at all times.” He leaned back and swung the inner door open enough so Megan could see a toddler napping in a playpen in the next room. “Plus the older children are expected to work as well. Our survival depends on it.”

“Our survival depends on child labor?” An old familiar anger rolled in the pit of her stomach. The one she felt every time a parent said they were too busy to show up for a parent teacher conference. “Is that what you just said?”

“Do you have children?” He asked her point-blank.

“No.” She sat a little straighter in her chair.

“Then I suggest you pick a job.”

Megan had a retort ready, but Sam stalled her with the weight of his hand on her arm. “I’ll pick for my wife and I.”

Sam stood up and his large frame towered over the man who busied himself retrieving a canister off the back cabinet. Sam reached in and pulled out a blue poker chip, then read it aloud. “Laundry.”

Stepping over to one of his flow charts, the man added their names to a wipe board. “You will get a wake-up call at six. Report to work by seven-thirty. By the way, now that your name is on the roster, your phone will ring every day. An automated system that calls everyone at the same time. It’s up to you to remember if you work that day or not. Turn your chip in to your foreman today so he will add your names to
his
list.”

Megan had to darn near bite her tongue to keep from telling the schedule keeper that if he didn’t bother to teach these children anything, in ten years no one would be able to read his stupid charts.

“Thank you.” Sam guided Megan to the door by her elbow. He leaned in so only she could hear. “Let’s go.”

“Are we going to the hospital now?” She shivered with dread for his answer.

“Nope, work first.”

She let out a breath she didn’t even realize she held. They had a little bit more time together. At this rate, it was going to be a long day.

****

Sam watched Megan’s ass from across the laundry room. She bent over a cart and set the tower of towels she’d just folded in the bottom of it. They’d been required to stay and work that day, so the new plan was to look for his sister tomorrow, on their day off.

He was so close, he could feel it. He needed to know his baby sister was okay. He was sure Summer was still there. She had to be. Otherwise, she would have come home. The not knowing part tore at him.

“Nice.” The guy standing to his left noticed Megan’s ass too. “I wonder if she’s in the breeding pool. I might leave my wife for a piece of that.” He laughed at his own joke.

Sam clenched his fist at his side with every intention of driving it through the guy’s face.
On second thought…

He pushed a cart of towels fresh out of the dryer over to Megan, slid up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She jumped and turned in his embrace at which point he kissed her, thoroughly. She rewarded him by winding her arms around his neck in response. Just to add salt to the wound of his onlooker, Sam made a point to bend her back in his arms. The women around them hooted and applauded at his endeavor. When Sam let Megan back up, her eyes burned dark and hungry. He turned to go back to his post at the dryer and received a smack on his ass so hard it rang through the corridor. Sam smiled at the fellow and turned to look at Megan over his shoulder.

“I will repay you for that tonight.” He spoke under his breath.

“Promises, promises.” She turned back to her job, and whistled a tune that had all the earmarks of being from her classroom, but on her lips, sounded sexy as hell.

Sam sauntered back to his workstation. When he passed the scumbag who gawked at him, Sam nodded. “Give your wife my wife’s regard.”

What would happen to Megan when her “husband” left in a few days? Her name might very well go into the pool. Had she thought about that? He needed to convince her she didn’t belong here. She belonged by his side, always.

Oh shit
. He loved her.

Sam nearly choked on the realization. Of all the women he’d displayed on his arm, dated and seduced, Megan had been the most difficult, opinionated…intelligent, kind, generous
… Yep,
he loved her.

Sam pushed a button and watched the industrial size dryer tip forward and dump a load of hot towels into an empty cart. One hung up on the rim, and he reached over to pull it free.

“Use the stick so you don’t get caught by that door. It can break an arm when it slams shut. It’s happened more than once.” The foreman pointed to the stick on the wall behind Sam. “Be careful.”

Who knew laundry could be so dangerous. The stick simply hung on a screw, and Sam had to laugh at the lowbrow technology.
So, this is what we’ve been reduced to, doing laundry with a stick.

“That’s the last load coming through today. You guys are done here.”

The asshole and his buddy next to Sam high-fived and chattered like women as they left the area, but the asshole stopped and turned back toward Sam.

“No offense man. Your wife is hot.”

“Yeah, I know.” Sam nodded when they said goodnight and pushed the cart over to Megan. Her crew still had that and one other cart to fold. Sam reached in and pulled out a towel since he wasn’t about to leave her behind. Not now, not later.

“Is there a trick to this, or will any method do?” He held the towel up by the corners. It burned his fingers, and he dropped it.

Megan slid her pile across the table. “Try these. They’re cooler.”

“He’s a keeper.” One of the women on the other side of the folding table commented then several women laughed.

“Hear that? I’m a keeper.” He attempted to line the corners up precisely.

“Yeah, well, not if you take two hours to fold that towel. Do it like this.” Megan flipped the thing in half, then in half again, without matching a single corner.

“No.” Sam went about his own folding method, and Megan’s stack tripled his in no time. But, his was right.

Precision was the key to any operation. Attention to detail made all the difference in a conference room or anywhere else. That’s why they were gonna scope out the hospital tonight, Megan just didn’t know it yet, then go in tomorrow. A plan. Everything went better with a plan…and some guns.

Once all the towels stood neatly stacked in the linen cart, the foreman released everyone for the evening.

“Dinner?” Megan sounded hopeful.

“How about dinner on the move? I’d like to do a little recon at the hospital tonight.”

“Sounds good.” Megan picked up her pack from the floor and fell into step next to him. “Let’s go to the kitchen first and refill my water bottle.” Tap water turned out to be the one thing not rationed.

He nodded and held open the door for her.

Sam circled the medical building twice in the Suburban, before parking up the street where he could watch the only active entrance without notice. Only military vehicles pulled in and out of the old limo entrance. Men entered the hotel laden with boxes, but then they came right back out.

Sam pointed to where a soldier walked out empty handed. “You see that?”

“Yeah?”

“That means they are not in complete lockdown. If the soldiers can come and go, maybe we can get in the lobby too.”

“What’s the plan, Sam?” She laughed. “I have been dying to say that all week.”

Sam glanced at her then back at the building. “Are you done cracking yourself up?”

“Maybe.”

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Would it kill you to know the song that saying came from went ‘make a new plan, Stan?’”