Then There Was You Part 1

THEN THERE WAS YOU.

Heather Thurmeier.

Note to Readers:.

Then There Was You originally started out as a single novella-Escape to My Arms. I've always loved dystopian landscapes and I'm a huge fan of post-apocalyptic everything. I enjoy watching or reading a new take on a future and how the world got that way. So when the idea sparked in my mind for Sara and Dane's story, I decided to go for it!

I intentionally left the ending of Escape to My Arms open so readers could decide for themselves how things continued. The characters had completed their initial goal and I felt satisfied with leaving them to figure out where their story went from there.

Well, that didn't go over so well with readers. LOL!.

It quickly became clear that readers wanted definitive answers to their questions. They didn't want to speculate what happened to Sara and Dane from that point on. They wanted me to continue the story. After some thought on the situation, I decided to give readers what they asked for and wrote Survive for My Love, which picks up two weeks later in the story.

Survive for My Love was never a story I intended to write, but once I got back to Sara and Dane, I was so happy to be with them again! I was thrilled to explore the world I'd created and honestly, I couldn't wait to answer the questions I'd left unanswered. I hadn't realized I too was curious about what was going on with the world until I was immersed in it once more.

When the opportunity presented itself to re-release these books on my own, I knew I wanted to combine them into one full-length novel instead of two separate novellas. I wanted Sara and Dane's story to be told in a single, complete sitting.

The result is Then There Was You, which I think is the perfect way to make sure readers are left satisfied. I hope you enjoy this glimpse into a future that hopefully never comes to pa.s.s. And while the world itself, Sara and Dane, and all the other characters in the book go on beyond The End, I still feel this part of the story is complete-the questions have been answered.

Of course, there is always more to tell, because sometimes the end is only the beginning...

~DEDICATION~.

To my family and friends for letting me endlessly chatter on about books.

Book One:.

ESCAPE TO MY ARMS.

Heather Thurmeier.

Chapter One.

Sara Miller eased her foot off the brake pedal, crawling her SUV forward a few more inches. She slammed her palm into the steering wheel, cursing when she had to press the brakes again. An alarm chimed as the gaslight flickered on, glowing a bright, obnoxious orange.

"No. No. No. This can't be happening," she said, glaring at the light. "I can't believe I'm so stupid. I know better than this."

She always kept her truck at half a tank of gas or more. Never less. Except for this week, of course, because this week she'd been run off her feet at work and had done extra driving around to visit her clients, throwing off her routine. She hadn't stopped to fill up on Monday like she should have and now she was screwed. Royally screwed.

How far could she drive with the gaslight on? She should know this too, but if the information was in her brain, it refused to come to the surface when she needed it. Why would she even need to know that, when she'd never even seen the orange light on before?

Glancing up the highway, she couldn't see any indication of an exit ahead. Not that she could get to an exit anyway, being that she was blocked in by the double lane of b.u.mper-to- b.u.mper traffic ahead of her. She could try to take the shoulder but it looked blocked as well by other drivers having had the same thought as her. Everyone wanted to get as far away from New York City as possible. Even sixty miles north of the city, the congestion on the roads was ridiculous.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, forcing a deep, steady breath into her lungs. Focus. Don't panic. She could deal with this. She could deal with anything. There was no other option but to get through this mess and succeed in reaching her goal.

And she would succeed. She would survive.

A catastrophic event of any kind was what she'd been preparing for.

Flipping on her radio, she twisted the dial until a voice broke through the static.

"This is a message from the Emergency Broadcast System. All residents of the tri-state area are advised to stay in their homes or businesses until further notice. A state of emergency has been called into effect. Shelter in place unless absolutely necessary to leave and await further instructions. This is a message-"

The radio fell silent as she punched the dial so hard her palm ached. d.a.m.n it. That announcement didn't tell her anything about what had actually happened in the last six hours, or how anyone was going to help them.

Stay home. Not likely. Not when all h.e.l.l was breaking loose.

Nope. She knew exactly where she needed to be-her family's hidden emergency bunker. Now she just had to figure out a way to get there when the roads were impa.s.sable.

"Stay calm," she told herself. "Traffic will move soon and then I can get gas and be back on the road again. I'll be at the bunker by nightfall, just like I planned."

If the gas stations still have gas. She groaned. Stupid!

If she made it to the bunker, her brother Josh would never let her live this moment down. He loved finding a reason to tease her. He'd probably bug her until her sister Sue started in on the fun, too. That'd be a blast.

She glanced at the dashboard clock. Fifteen minutes she'd been sitting there without a single budge. Maybe she should put the truck in park and turn off the engine. At least that way she'd be able to conserve her gas.

She gripped the key in the ignition but froze when she heard yelling from somewhere up ahead. What now?

She unrolled her window then popped her head out so she could see down the dotted white line. Her breath caught in her throat at the scene unfolding in front of her.

A woman screamed as she was dragged by her hair out of her truck by a large man. He threw her to the ground. She pulled herself from the pavement, grabbing his back in an attempt to stop him from getting into her vehicle, but he shook her off as if she were no more than a fly. He climbed into the front seat and slammed the door closed, narrowly missing the woman's fingers. Turning toward the left lane, he bullied his way between two cars, forcing one to move forward and the other to reverse to avoid being hit. He sped into the center ditch, then crossed the roadway and turned the other direction before cras.h.i.+ng through the brush alongside the highway and disappearing in a flurry of dust and squealing tires.

The now-carless woman collapsed on the pavement, her head in her hands.

Panic rose like bile in Sara's throat.

That woman hadn't been targeted for any reason other than her all-terrain-capable vehicle-a truck almost identical to the one Sara currently sat in. s.h.i.+t. This was getting out of hand quicker than she feared. If she didn't take action soon, she might be the next target, and she couldn't let that happen.

Her fingers abandoned the key in the ignition and gripped the steering wheel hard instead. Inching the truck in reverse, she got as close as she could to the car behind her before it honked, then put her truck into drive and twisted the wheel hard toward the ditch on the right side of the road. If she could make it into the ditch, then she could also make it into the trees beyond that.

Hopefully her compact SUV wouldn't be too big to pa.s.s between the branches.

No way to find out except to try.

Edging her way out of traffic, she breathed a sigh of relief when she crossed the ditch effortlessly. As she carefully drove into the tree cover, she didn't even bother with a glance back at the road. Those people were on their own. So was Sara. And she wasn't about to sit around waiting for someone to save her.

One way or another, she was going to survive.

Dane Tyson adjusted the strap on his shoulder with one hand and rested the end of his rifle in his other as he got the webbing situated comfortably across his back again. His first shot had missed, but barely.

On any other hunting trip, the miss would have been nothing more than a laugh. But he didn't feel like laughing today. He needed a successful hunt, not for the pride of the kill, but for the food it would provide.

Something had happened in New York City. Something bad. The chaotic news stories and raw footage he'd seen hadn't made sense.

An outbreak. In one of the busiest cities in the world.

But it wasn't only New York City. Every city where cruise s.h.i.+ps docked.

He'd been sitting in a bar eating a burger when one news reporter had used the term pandemic. At that point the owner of the bar turned off the television. Dane had known that was his cue to leave, and quickly.

He'd taken one last bite of his burger and dropped a few bills on the bar before making a path to the door. His first stop on the way home had been the grocery store, to grab a few nonperishable items like soups, canned vegetables, rice, and bottled water. He needed to replenish the items he'd used recently from his stockpile. He didn't bother with meat. That was what his gun was for. Then he'd stopped at the ATM and the gas station to fill up. By the time he'd left town twenty minutes after seeing the initial report, people were already getting into fistfights over parking s.p.a.ces at the grocery store.

Dane forced the scene out of his head. He couldn't worry about the people left in town. His first priority had to be his own needs and securing some meat so he could take cover in the cabin for a few days while they got the city quarantined.

He stepped cautiously over fallen branches and boulders, trying to make as little noise as possible. There was a place another quarter mile ahead that was a favorite grazing spot for deer. The closer he got to the highway, the thinner the trees were and for some reason, that seemed to make the deer feel more comfortable. Or hungrier.

Squatting down behind the thicket he used for cover, he held still and listened. He was too far away to hear the noise of the highway, which was perfect for letting him hear the noise of the forest. In the distance, branches broke and leaves crunched under foot, possibly under hoof.

He took aim as the small deer wandered into the clearing. Behind him in the trees, there was probably a whole family still to come forward. They might even be bigger, but then Dane would have to drag his kill all the way home. A smaller deer would be more manageable.

Exhaling, he steadied his gun, finding his mark. His finger hovered over the trigger.

A car horn honked suddenly, startling him. He squeezed the trigger as his arm relaxed. The recoil in the unsecured gun jarred his shoulder as he heard the distinct noise of his bullet hitting something metallic. He hadn't heard that noise since he was little, taking target practice on tin cans.

The car horn had been way too close to come from the highway. He stood and strolled into the clearing, no longer worried about scaring off the deer since the startling sound had done a good job of that for him.

Nothing in the trees looked unusual. And yet something had to be because otherwise there would be no metal for his bullet to hit and no car to honk its horn. He pulled a pair of binoculars from his cargo pocket and twisted the dials until the other side of the clearing came into focus. He scanned the area for anything unusual for a few seconds before finding it.

A small SUV. Way farther off the highway than it should be.

What the h.e.l.l?

Scanning the area again for anything else out of the ordinary, he strode across the clearing quickly and stopped near the front of the vehicle. Empty. Very strange considering he walked these woods often and had never seen it here before.

He touched his palm to the hood. Still warm.

Someone was nearby.

Chapter Two.

Sara heard the gunshot but didn't wait around to see where it had come from. Instead, she crawled over the center console, across the backseats, and into the cargo area as quickly as she could. Whatever gun the shot had come from had been close. Closer than she was comfortable with. Which also meant that whoever shot that gun was close by, too.

Wrenching her backpack onto her shoulders, she spread out the black blanket that matched her truck's interior and pulled it over herself, the bag on her back, and the bucket in the corner. She lay quietly trying to steady her breath enough that maybe she'd be able to hear what was going on outside.

Maybe the person with the gun wouldn't notice her camouflage-colored vehicle between the trees. And if someone did notice, hopefully they would simply peek in the front window and a.s.sume the vehicle had been abandoned long ago. With any luck, they wouldn't investigate too closely.

She cursed herself once again for letting her gas run out. If she'd stuck to her usual routine and filled up, she could have driven much farther into the woods before the truck died. But that first section of mud she'd encountered had taken a lot of fuel to get unstuck and not long after that, she'd come to a stop.

Leaves crunched under feet somewhere near the driver's side door. Any moment now, the door would open and whoever it was would find her keys still in the ignition. They'd find her purse still sitting on the pa.s.senger seat. Another mistake. She had to start being smarter or she'd never make it to the bunker.

The driver's door didn't open. The footsteps traveled along the length of the vehicle, getting closer and closer to her hiding spot. She imagined someone looking in the windows, hands cupped around their face to s.h.i.+eld the gla.s.s so they could see inside. She kept as still as she could.

Please leave. She chanted the words in her head like a mantra, hoping she could wish them to be true.

The back hatch popped open; cool air slipped under the edge of her blanket.

She bit her lip to stop the scream building up inside of her from pouring out. Maybe their gaze would gloss over the blanket and not take into account the lumps underneath of it.

Light hit her eyes, forcing her to squint.

So much for that thought.

She laid still, no room to scurry backward or away from the man standing less than two feet from her. His broad shoulders and tall frame blocked her only exit. Her gaze darted to the rifle slung over his shoulder and she swallowed the fear in her throat.

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding friendlier than she'd expected.

When she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out, so she simply closed it again. Fear gripped her, freezing her in place. What would he do with that gun? Just because he sounded friendly didn't mean he was. Her hand went to one of the side pockets of the backpack. She was barely able to reach inside and wrap her fingers around the cold metal of her pocketknife. It wasn't much of a defense, but she'd do the best she could. If nothing else, maybe she could cut him enough to distract him so she could get out of the truck and run for it.

"Are you hurt?" he asked as she pried the longest blade out of the knife a fraction of an inch then pressed the edge of the tip into the floor of the cargo area behind her until it clicked into place. "Do you need help?"

He reached for her and she shrieked, cutting into the air with the knife, hoping to connect with him somewhere painful. Her attack went wide, missing him completely. She struck out again hoping to get him on the backswing, but he grabbed her wrist and squeezed, forcing her hand to relax and drop the blade.

"What the h.e.l.l do you think you're doing?"

"Defending myself. What does it look like?" she shot back.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He let go of her and scooped up her knife before she could grab it. "Defending yourself? With this?"

"Give it to me," she demanded, reaching out her hand, palm up.