Then There Was You Part 15

"You guys down here are immune or something?"

"I wish. We're just not as afraid. We're the ones who go out on runs, do medical and security. Basically, we're the ones who are exposed to the possibility of the virus all the time, so the threat seems less...threatening, I guess."

"But I'm bleeding from my feet because of cuts, not because of the virus."

Travis nodded. "I know. I've told the others you're safe and they don't have to worry about you. I hope I'm right." He paused while getting the gauze and tape ready. "You are safe, right? You didn't escape from quarantine in the city or anything?"

"I'm safe. I didn't come from the city. And I haven't been near anyone infected. If I had, I'd know what happens, wouldn't I?"

"True, but the first symptoms show up fast, within an hour or two. After that, it takes at least twenty-four hours for the really gruesome stuff to start. Any fever, blurred vision, or confusion?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. I feel fine."

"How long ago did that happen?" he asked, pointing at her b.l.o.o.d.y hands.

She shrugged, trying to calculate the time in her head. "A few hours at least."

Travis nodded looking satisfied then secured the last bandage on her foot. Reclining in his seat, he rolled his shoulders as if they were stiff. He eyed her s.h.i.+rt, not for the first time.

She looked down at her blood stained hands. She didn't know if the men who'd taken her had been sick or not, but she had to a.s.sume by their strength they weren't. "I'm pretty sure it's okay. None got in my mouth or anything. But maybe we should burn the s.h.i.+rt, to be safe. I need to wash my hands, check for cuts that could get infected."

He nodded as if approving of her answer. He motioned for her to come to a makes.h.i.+ft sink and handed her a pitcher of water, soap and something that smelled like hospital antiseptic.

Sara twisted her hands in the basin, scrubbing them. When she was finished, Travis poured water over them, rinsing away the blood. Once clean, she rinsed her still b.l.o.o.d.y knife in the sink then wiped it dry.

"So, where did you come from?" he asked as he inspected her hands for cuts.

Should she tell him the truth? Could she trust him with it? What if he was being nice to find out if she had supplies stashed somewhere?

"It's fine. Forget I asked. I'm not trying to pry. If you tell me you came from somewhere safe, then I'll believe you."

She nibbled on her lower lip as her eyes threatened to tear up, unaccustomed to people being so nice. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you."

He shrugged and got up from his chair. "It's fine. Like I said, forget I asked." He took off his gloves and placed them inside a covered garbage bin, then sanitized his hands with liquid cleaner. "Hey, you hungry? I haven't had anything since breakfast, and dinner should be almost ready. Want to join us, or are you heading out again?"

The empty pit in her stomach roared to life as if a monster lived inside of her. "I would love some dinner, thank you. I'm sorry, I don't have anything to trade you for it."

"Not a problem. We have food for anyone who sits at our table."

Travis held her arm with one hand and grasped her around the waist with the other, guiding her from the bed to her feet. She fought a cringe as she took a step, but a little whimper still escaped from her pursed lips.

She tried to pull her arm away from his grip, but he held firm as she took tentative steps. Stumbling after a few, she decided to give in and accept his help. Dane was the only man she'd been close to in a long time, and getting cozy with Travis was the last thing on her mind, but she leaned into him more anyway, needing his strength and stability.

The path to the dining table seemed longer than she'd expected. The warehouse appeared small but, in fact, sprawled the length of a football field. Of course, for the other people heading toward dinner, the walk didn't take more than a minute from even the farthest corner. Travis glanced at her during her long, slow walk, smiling in a way that lit his whole face. The handsome doctor, with his dark hair and eyes, probably had a line of girls waiting for a chance in his bed anytime he wanted.

He walked her to the end of the table, introducing her to some of the others as they pa.s.sed by. They were Jacob the banker, Lila the hair stylist, Benji the pizza delivery boy, and Ralph the teacher. Or at least, they were in their former lives. Here, they were scavengers, inventors, handymen, and tailors.

Sara tried to smile as every head turned to gawk at her, except for one, the oldest man of the bunch who sat at the head of the table. He continued to eat, head bowed, ignoring the chatter going on around him as if nothing could be more important than the food in his dish. Maybe nothing should be more important than a good meal in the company of strangers who'd become friends in the oddest of situations.

Travis returned and set a bowl of steaming food and a chunk of crusty bread in front of her. She hadn't even seen bread in weeks, and these people were offering it to her without asking for anything in return. Everything tasted so good, she could be dreaming.

"Beef stew and stale bread, cuisine of the G.o.ds." He dug into his meal with fervor.

"Thank you. It smells delicious," she said, meaning it.

"It's from a can. And thinned out with boiled water from a nearby well, but it's warm, and it's somewhat filling, so we can't complain."

"Have you guys been eating like this the whole time?" She hoped her voice sounded curious and didn't imply her dietary intake had been more or less than theirs. She and Dane had grown accustomed to their freeze-dried meals in the weeks since the outbreak-fine dining compared to this fare, not that she'd tell her host. She appreciated their hospitality.

"Yes and no. At the beginning, we ate a lot more since we didn't realize how hard it would be to get staples later. Then, as the food supply started to dwindle, we began conserving more and consuming less. How we eat depends on how well we've scavenged. You?"

She swallowed her bite and shrugged, flickering her gaze up to his before looking at her bowl. She didn't like to lie to anyone, but telling the whole truth wouldn't do her any good. "I did the same thing. Ate a lot at the beginning then started rationing."

"Did you come from somewhere nearby? You didn't have any supplies with you when we found you."

"I've been traveling for a couple of days. But then...." Her voice caught in her throat as she choked on her words. How could she verbalize everything she'd been through? "But then...I was...."

"It's okay," Travis said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand. "You don't need to relive it, whatever it is. And you don't need to worry about your supplies. We don't have an excess of things, but what we have you're welcome to. Within reason, of course."

His smile reached all the way to his eyes, reminding her of how Dane's smile did the same thing. Thinking of him made her chest seize up. Had they hurt him and left him for dead in the ditch? Should she have tried harder to find her way back to the road?

The last night she'd been with him had been one of the best of her life. She couldn't remember another time when she'd loved someone so deeply, so fully, without hesitation.

"Thanks," she managed. "I won't need much. I don't have much farther to travel."

"You'll stay the night and rest, at least, won't you?"

His eyes were kind and caring, easy to gaze into. He was her type, tall, dark, and handsome, and if her journey had brought her here first instead of to Dane, she might have let him continue holding her hand all night.

"I'm not sure I should. I need to be on my way."

"Your feet could use a night to heal. And it will give me time to find a pair of shoes for you. We'll have a warm fire and an extra couple of blankets for you if you decide to stay."

After sleeping in the truck, the thought of a cozy blanket and a warm fire sounded wonderful. And with every pa.s.sing second, she could feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones. The day had been long and grueling, and she needed rest to be able to make the final push to the bookstore.

"Okay, you've convinced me." Sara broke her bread into pieces as an excuse to take her hand from under Travis'. He might be trying to comfort her, but his touch made her feel like she was cheating on Dane. Not something she ever wanted to do.

"Where are you off to, if you don't mind my asking?" the woman next to Travis asked. "I'm Claire, by the way. I thought Travis here would be polite and introduce the rest of us, but apparently, he lost his manners in the apocalypse."

Travis wrapped his arm around Claire's shoulders and pulled her close. Sara eyed him. Seemed he was a touchy-feely kind of guy. Claire didn't look like she minded much. "This is Claire. She's a bit of a ball-breaker. And a fine scavenger. She has a way of knowing what place will still have supplies but no people. And the girl next to her is Ruby. She used to run a hotel in the city, but now we're the recipients of her fine hospitality. And the two across from them are Joseph and Bill. If you need anything fixed or invented, these are the guys to see."

Sara nodded and said h.e.l.lo to each of them. "I'm trying to find my family. They didn't meet me where I thought they would, so I'm trying to get to another location where they might be."

Claire looked down at her food as she stirred it around in her bowl. "I hope you find them," she said. Something about the tone of her voice made Sara sad for her, as if she'd lost touch with her family, too.

"And you've been out here alone with no supplies or anything for days?" Joseph asked.

"Not quite. I had someone traveling with me." She paused to swallow her bite of bread. "My boyfriend, Dane. We had a truck full of gas and supplies. We were almost to our destination when our truck ran dry and we were...separated from each other."

Sara forced a deep breath into her lungs to steady her nerves. She didn't want to talk about what had happened, or even think about it. But she couldn't very well take food and shelter from these people without telling them a little bit about herself and how she came to be with them. She looked up to find Travis and Claire watching her, concern and interest equally written on their faces.

"Well, at least you made it this far, right?" Claire continued eating, appearing lost in her own thoughts. Maybe they had more experiences in common than she'd guessed.

"I'm glad we found you when we did. Sounds like you had an exciting day." Travis pushed his empty bowl away and sipped his water.

"Exciting is one word for it." Sara s.h.i.+vered as the memories flooded her mind. No matter how hard she tried to push them away, she still saw the scenes playing out in vivid detail every time she closed her eyes. She took the last spoonful of her stew, not the least bit hungry anymore, but unwilling to waste even a single drop when she didn't know when she'd get another warm meal.

"Why don't we get you over to the fire, and I'll find you the things you'll need for tomorrow?" He stood from the table and took her arm, helping her to her feet.

Walking the short distance to the fireplace in the corner of the room hurt as much as she feared it would, and she sagged with exertion by the time Travis lowered her to a chair. She didn't have a clue how she'd manage walking the rest of the way to the bookstore the next day, but at this point, she didn't see any other option. She had to get to her goal and could only do it on foot. Somehow, she'd have to tough it out.

She hated to admit it, but a small part of her wished she could stay here with these nice people and their warm fire and supplies for the rest of the apocalypse. But she couldn't. Knowing her family might be at the bookstore waiting for her meant she could never live with herself if she didn't make it the rest of the way to find out for sure.

If Dane might still be alive out there, then she had to hope he'd attempt to find the bookstore, and maybe, by some dumb luck, she'd find him there. She couldn't even imagine what it would do to her if she never saw him again, never knew what happened to him...never got to kiss his lips or be in his arms again.

No. He's alive. He'd search river towns until he found the one with her family's bookstore and meet her there. She'd make it there on her own, no matter how much her feet hurt, even if it meant crawling on her hands and knees.

As Travis gathered supplies, Sara looked around the room. Everyone seemed so at ease and comfortable with one another. No fighting. No one had threatened her the entire time she'd been here. Based on her last several run-ins with people, she'd been sure the world had gone to s.h.i.+t, but these people seemed to be an exception. Maybe there were still good people in the world, working together and not against one another. Maybe the world would go on in some kind of new- normal way if there were people like this willing to collaborate to survive.

Maybe her family's idea of hunkering down and keeping their distance from the rest of the world wasn't the only option.

Travis returned with an armful of clothing and a backpack. "It's not as much as I'd like to give you, but it'll have to do."

"I thought you were getting me shoes."

He laughed. "I did. But you can't walk around in a bloodstained s.h.i.+rt. So, I grabbed a few things. Hopefully something in this pile fits, but take whatever you need."

"One s.h.i.+rt will do." Sara held up a blue T-s.h.i.+rt that looked about the right size and then grabbed the pair of sneakers. They were a little big, but would do well enough.

"Wherever you're going, and I'm not asking, sounds like it will be great." Travis settled cross-legged beside her.

"I hope so." She forced any doubt out of her mind. She'd find her family or Dane or everyone waiting for her at the bookstore. Believing anything else would make leaving the safety of this place impossible.

"Well, if it isn't, you can always come back to the colony. We'd be happy to have you here."

Sara couldn't get over how welcoming they were. She felt as if she were in an implausible movie not a real-life situation. "Why? Why would you all want another person to share your food with, to take on as a burden, to trust not to rob you of your precious supplies?"

"Do you plan to rob us?" His eyes twinkled as they crinkled a little around the edges. If she didn't know better, she'd say he was flirting with her. But he already knew she had a boyfriend waiting for her. And he'd been the same way with Claire.

"No, of course not." Sara felt indignant even though she'd brought the line of questioning on herself.

Travis sighed, the lightheartedness falling from his expression. "There are two kinds of people out there-those who have and those who want. We all came together here and started the colony because we believed the goodness in people can still s.h.i.+ne through in times of complete despair, and sometimes, it's the only thing to save you. So we made a choice, to be here, to work and live together, to welcome all who wanted to join us, and to believe one day, the world will heal itself and we'll be there to start over when it does. Maybe it's a hippie way of thinking about it, but it works for us." Travis got to his feet. "Well, I'll leave you to get some much-needed rest. I'll be around to see you off in the morning if you want."

Sara smiled. "Thanks. I'll remember your offer when I go."

"I hope you won't need it, for your sake. But if you do, you know where we are."

Sara watched him walk away. When she checked her new bag, it had a bottle of water, a couple of granola bars, and a few other random things she might need. She set aside the blue T-s.h.i.+rt to change into and stuffed another into the pack just in case.

It wasn't much, but she appreciated the colony's generosity nonetheless. Maybe it would be all she needed to make the last leg of the trip, and she could reach the bookstore by dark if she hurried.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

Dane sat on the gra.s.s in the shadow of a large house across the street from the bookstore he thought-more like hoped-Sara's brother owned. He'd been inside the house he currently leaned against and found it empty, burned out as if the previous occupants had tried to make a fire in their living room without a fireplace. The air, still thick with the lingering smell of smoke and charred carpeting, made breathing difficult and the place impossible to use as shelter.

So instead, he sat outside, waiting.

It had taken him a day and a half to walk here from the road where the truck had been stolen. The trip had been uneventful, if not boring. But at least he hadn't run into any other groups of people looking to kill him for supplies. He didn't have any supplies on him anymore anyway.

He'd managed to find a morsel of food here and there, and even a bottle of strawberry-flavored water. Not enough to replace all the energy he'd used to get here, but since he had nothing else, he couldn't complain.

As he sat and watched the bookstore for any signs of life, he leaned his head against the wall. Exhaustion ebbed forward like a low tide rising, lapping up farther and farther until it threatened to overcome him. He fought to stay awake. He'd sleep when he found somewhere safe.

The sun began to set behind puffy white clouds. He needed shelter, food, and to find out if this bookstore belonged to Sara's family. Finding out came with risks. Like the risk of her family shooting first and asking questions later.

Of course, this could be the wrong place. His gut told him he was in the right spot. The old house looked just as Sara had described.

Staring at the upper-level window, Dane strained to see any kind of movement or light from inside. It looked like a small s.p.a.ce, no bigger than an attic. How did Sara's whole family and supplies fit up there? Maybe that's why they'd chosen a house like this. The upstairs was una.s.suming.

If he knew there were people inside, he could go in better prepared. At least then he'd know a little more what to expect. Going in blind, with no idea of occupants, would be scary and stupid, made even worse by the fact he didn't even have a gun or his knife.

But what if Sara waited in there, hoping he'd turn up? The thought sent his body into motion, and he sprinted across the street before his mind had a chance to protest. Is she in there? The need to find out coursed through his body.

Dane sidled up to the building and leaned closer to hear if he could detect any movement inside. Silence. He tried the doork.n.o.b and found it open. Suspicion made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. Sara would have the place locked up tight.

He pushed open the door, holding his breath when the hinges creaked. If anyone hid upstairs, they were now alerted to his arrival. Stepping into the bookstore, he let the door close quietly then took in the room around him.

Books scattered across the floor, shelving crisscrossing what used to be walkways, and not a person to be seen. He let out a little sigh of relief. He'd been expecting to find a squatter in the bookstore, regardless of what waited for him upstairs.

He had to figure out how to get up there. Sara had mentioned a bookshelf disguised the staircases leading to the bas.e.m.e.nt and the second floor, but she never told him which ones or what to do when he found them. He had no choice but to play sleuth and figure this out on his own, or be stuck on the main floor with no provisions except reading materials until someone else came along. Not an option he wanted to pursue.

Since Sara's family owned this place, it had to be stocked to the hilt, as the bunker had been, which meant somewhere in this house food, water, and warmth waited for him. And he definitely needed to find all of those things.

Surveying the room, there were only a few bookshelves, which could lead to stairways. As he walked up to the house, he'd noted a set of large windows to the right of the door and at least three feet of siding. Yet, looking at the room inside, the bookshelves started at the edge of the windows. So, somewhere behind those shelves, there was s.p.a.ce unaccounted for.

He went to the first one nearest the windows and pulled. It didn't budge. Running his hands along the books standing on the shelves, they all wiggled, not attached to the shelf or acting as a lever or switch of some kind.

Dane did the same for the rest of the shelves along the wall, four in all. None of them seemed to want to swing away from the wall or had any suspicious books. He tossed a novel across the room frustrated that he couldn't figure out their puzzle. But then if it were easy, this wouldn't be a safe location.

He stepped away as much as he could in the unkempt room and scanned each of the bookshelves in turn, looking for any type of discrepancies.

"What's this?" he whispered to himself, moving to stand in front of the second bookshelf. It looked like all the others except for the intricate carvings on each of its four corners. The wood felt smooth and sculpted beneath his fingers, twisting and turning in a three-inch section. He pressed down, hoping for a b.u.t.ton like he'd seen in an old mystery movie, but nothing happened. Scratching his nail along the inside edge of the piece, he felt a groove. It matched one on the other side of the same carving. Gripping both sides in his fingers, he pulled.