Only Love Survives (Love and Zombies) (7 page)

The darn pants fought back while Megan struggled to pull them on under the water. Once she got them fastened she could speak again, but did not dare look him in the eye.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

He startled her by closing the distance between them, capturing her in his arms again and lightly brushing her lips with his.

“Don’t be. I’m not.” Sam whispered against her mouth causing more shivers to course through her with a power that rivaled the river around them.

“I’m so embarrassed. I never…” She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. He must have known, because he reached down and lifted her face to meet his gaze with a gentle finger bent under her chin.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but not only am I not sorry, I hope to do that again…soon. Only the right way next time, with a bed under us.” He kissed her on the nose, then reached behind her and grabbed his shirt, along with the bar of soap.

She stood dumbfounded, watching him rub them together until he handed her the bar of soap. Megan decided to wash her own clothes while they were on her body. It was just as easy.

“Is that giant watch of yours waterproof?” He rinsed out his spare shirt while he spoke.

Her hand automatically went to her wrist making sure the scar was covered. “Yep.”

She dipped under the water, more to escape his scrutiny than to rinse off. When she surfaced, he was looking to the far side of the river and reaching for his gun. She spun around to see the brush moving and lost her footing. He reached out with his free hand and steadied her, then pulled her behind him.

“But they don’t come out here, in the middle of nowhere.” She tried to reason the danger away.

The bush shook some more and he leveled the gun on it just as a mangy dog appeared. The beast’s coat hung in matted clumps, but the collar and tags around his neck said he once belonged to someone.

Megan wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

“Are you all rinsed off?” The appearance of the dog didn’t alleviate the tension in Sam’s voice.

She nodded.

“Let’s go.” He took her arm and helped her up the riverbank. Megan felt exposed and vulnerable in so many ways. He slung his clean spare shirt over her shoulder, picked up her hand and led her to the Suburban. For a moment, it had all melted away. Now, it was back. What was it he kept saying? How things used to be didn’t matter anymore? Something like that. Suddenly, she didn’t feel embarrassed by what had happened in the river. They’d found solace in one another, if only for a brief moment.

Sam dropped her hand to unlock the doors. He reached into the Suburban and pulled out his spare gas can. The only can he had left because of her. Megan stood motionless while he poured the last of his fuel into the tank.

Chapter Five

They drove south down the country highway while the sun set in pink and orange streaks. Megan watched the shadows grow along the shoulder of the road. Seeing Sam top off the tank with his last drops of gas filled her with immense guilt. She silently stared out the passenger window.

Sam had given his fuel away to save her. How could she repay him? What did she have to offer? A map, some apples, a watch that covered a lie, and not much else.

“What’s up?” He nudged her knee with his knuckles.

She met his gaze and forced a smile. “Nothing.”

“Really? Because this is the quietest you’ve been since I met you.”

She sighed. “You’re out of gas.”

“No. If I were outta gas, we’d be walking right now.” He graced her with a smile meant to dazzle. “Don’t worry. We’ll find more. I always do.”

Megan turned back to the window. She didn’t share his conviction.

The road rose ahead of them and when they finally crested the hill Megan’s heart leapt in her throat.

“Do you see that?” She pointed at the valley in front of them. A circle of trucks, cars and RVs surrounded a large campfire that flickered in the failing light. Blue tarps hung between some of the vehicles providing additional shelter.

“Yep.” He slowed and came to a stop right in the middle of the highway and watched them in the distance. “What do you think?”

“After the guys we ran into this morning, I don’t know anymore.”

The entire campsite was surrounded by, not one, but two twisted barbed wire fences. The kind with wooden supports she’d only seen in war movies. Not all that inviting. A chill ran up Megan’s spine.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, Megan. They might have gas they’d be willing to trade.”

“I have apples.” She laughed because her contribution was so lame.

“How ‘bout we stay up here tonight and go down in the morning.” He pointed back over his shoulder.

“I like that plan.” Relief overwhelmed her when Sam put the car in reverse, looked over his shoulder and backed off the road. “Do you think they saw us?”

“No. If anything, they may have heard the engine, but it’s almost dark. I doubt they’d venture out at night to investigate. How about dinner?” He put the vehicle in park and turned intense blue eyes on her. “Or dessert?”

She really could drown in his gaze and Megan turned away to preserve her clear head. She reached behind the seat and searched for the prized fruit. “Dinner I think. How would you like your apples? Whole, sliced, or quartered?”

“How about with peanut butter?”

“What?” Her head snapped up to find him wiggling his eyebrows at her. “You have peanut butter?”

“I am full of surprises.” He opened the car door. “Come see.”

Megan scrambled out of the car. “I haven’t seen a jar of peanut butter in months.”

He opened the back of the Suburban, reached in and pulled a plastic milk crate toward them. It was full of dry goods. Not only was there peanut butter, two jars, but there were more crackers, cans of soup, a canister of oatmeal and a bag of rice.

“Wow, nice pantry.”

“Thanks. Help yourself.”

She smiled at his generosity. It pulled at her and connected her to him in a way that seemed impossible after only two days…no matter how long those two days had been.

“How about I make you a peanut butter and apple slice sandwich on crackers?”

“Nice. While you do that, I ‘m going to rearrange the car to make room for the both of us back here tonight.” Sam knocked on the roof of the Suburban. “I can’t spend another night sleeping in the upright position.”

Her breath caught. The idea of sleeping next to him made her feel warm and, more importantly, safe. Megan busied herself making dinner on the hood of the vehicle, trying hard to ignore the fact that he was preparing their bed just a few feet away. When Sam joined her, she handed him a sandwich, then climbed onto the hood to watch the last vestiges of daylight disappear into the ink of night. The stars grew brighter with every passing breath. Megan sighed at the wonder of it all.

Sam leaned against the fender and crossed his ankles.

“What’s with the sigh?” He tipped his head and chewed.

“Have you noticed how dark night is now? Or even how bright the day is without all the smog? Everything seems…I don’t know… Clearer somehow. More important.” She shook her head. Megan could kick herself for blathering like an idiot in front of him. “Never mind, it’s ridiculous.”

“No, I get it. Money used to be my world. Making it, spending it…” He got a sheepish grin and turned away from her, “…flashing it.” He turned back to face her again. “Now it’s gone. It doesn’t exist anymore. Like someone said
‘Hey asshole, there’s more to life. Let me show you how much more.’
That’s the slate being wiped clean.” He popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth.

Amazed that he understood, Megan nodded. “Exactly. I never would have walked into a store and helped myself to anything before the epidemic. I just wouldn’t have thought to do something so completely wrong, even as a kid. But now, the people are gone, the money is gone, everything’s about survival. It’s not a matter of stealing. It’s a matter of living to see another day. People have become clearer as well. Without all the trappings of the world, they are transparent, either light or dark. Good or bad. Black and white.”

“See, that’s where I disagree. Nothing’s black and white anymore, just varying shades of gray. We all are doing what we have to, to survive.”

“I know, and I hate it. That’s why I have to get to Vegas. Maybe there’s hope for rebuilding our world there.”

He shook his head as he reached over and gave her hand a little squeeze. “You’re an optimist.”

“And you’re not?”

His hand slid away and his eyes grew hard with one last shake of his head. “Nope.”

Megan shivered.

“You ready for bed?” He was judicious in changing the subject and didn’t push his point until she agreed, like most guys she’d ever dated would have. Just as well. She couldn’t exactly explain that she hoped the future of mankind was flowing through her veins. Not without admitting that she’d been bitten, and was basically a zombie waiting to happen. Although it had been seven months, and Megan figured if she were going to turn, she would have by now. He probably would not see it that way. Nobody ever did.

Sliding off the hood, she followed him to the back of the Suburban. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction would be.

She spent the first two months of this plague without hope, watching her mother die, then waiting around to die as well. When that didn’t happen, she decided to get out of the city. After the last group of people Megan traveled with died in the attack, she realized she had to do more than just survive. Another month passed and she still felt normal, the wound on her arm completely healed, and she got the idea that maybe she was immune to whatever caused this illness. Maybe she carried some kind of antibodies; maybe she could save the world. Maybe not, but it gave her life purpose, and she needed that.

“It’s not the Fairmont—” Sam opened the back door to the Suburban as he began to apologize.

“It’s better than a Motel Six.”

His laughter echoed behind her while she climbed in, and it warmed her heart to make him smile after the day they had.

He’d put the middle seat down, shoved all the guns and ammo to the other half, then piled everything else on that same side of the car. It left just enough room for the two of them to lie down, if they huddled close, which she didn’t mind if he didn’t. Sam climbed in and shut the door behind him, then hit the door locks. Megan hunched against his pile of stuff and waited for him to get settled. It occurred to her that he was quite a bit taller than her. She doubted he would be able to stretch out.

He relaxed on his side with his arm bent under his head, then reached out and pulled her down next to him.

Sam was a warm wall of muscle, both soft and hard at the same time. Megan nestled into the crook of his arm and boldly intertwined her legs with his to get comfortable. After all, she’d already wrapped her legs around him in about the most intimate way possible. This was nothing.

His chest rumbled against her cheek when he cleared his throat and spoke. “Tomorrow night we’ll find a better bed.” The thought of being anywhere but in this very spot tore at Megan. “I feel safe sleeping in the car, safer than I’ve felt in a long, long time.” She looked up into his face. “Thank you.”

“How the hell did you survive all this time with no guns, no car, all on your own?”

“Like a rat, scurrying from corner to corner to survive.” She nuzzled against his warmth to chase that distasteful thought away.

“You don’t smell like a rat.” He sniffed her hair loud for effect and she laughed. “Nope, you smell like summer and apples, with a hint of peanut butter.”

The next morning Sam pulled up to the makeshift gate and waited for the guards to walk from the interior fence line to the outer with their guns raised. Megan hunched low in the seat, her heart pounding in her throat.

“What’s your business here?” The younger of the two men demanded.

“Hold on Kyle. Zombies don’t drive cars.” The older man reassured the youth as he walked up to Sam’s window. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re looking to trade. We have some food and need some gas.” Sam kept his cool even with the jumpy twerp on Megan’s side of the car about to explode.

She hoped for everyone’s sake, the guy didn’t faint.

The older gentleman looked at Megan and gave the Suburban a quick scan before he answered. “Kyle if you don’t put that gun down I will see to it you pull latrine duty the next ten rotations.” Then he explained to Sam, “He just joined us a month ago. Came from bad circumstances and is wound a little tight.”

“Aren’t we all?” Sam interjected.

“I’ll let you in, but first I need to tell you the rules. We’re a small, peaceful community. We look out for each other, defend each other and don’t tolerate any nonsense. You understand?”

Sam nodded and stuck his hand out the window. “Name’s Sam.”

The man took Sam’s hand and shook it once. “I’m Argyle. And no jokes about socks, cause you haven’t got one I haven’t heard.”

“No sir. We’re not here to cause trouble.” Sam reached around, pulled an apple from behind his seat, and offered it to the man.

“Is that an apple?” Kyle’s eyes grew as big as saucers and his gun drooped pointing at the ground while he peered through Megan’s window to gawk at the fruit.