“Thank you,” I said, rising slowly…partly to keep from spooking her and partly because of my tender testicles. She really was stronger than she looked.
I raised my hands again to reassure her. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I told you to go get my gun. Ask yourself, why would I do that if I wanted to hurt you?”
***
Jennifer
He raised his hands. “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I told you to go get my gun. Ask yourself, why would I do that if I wanted to hurt you?”
He was right. I had the gun. I had no idea how to use it, but he didn’t know that, right?
I made a decision. “Jennifer. My name’s Jennifer.”
He visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Jennifer. Now, how about you stop pointing that thing at me?”
He didn’t move. I had the impression he could knock the shotgun out of my hands at any time, but he chose not to. I lowered the barrel, relieved to ease the weight from my arms and shoulders, but kept a tight grip on it, ready to raise it in a second if he made a move. He didn’t.
“I guess I’m safe, for now, at least,” he said, smiling.
Damn it, he was huge. He could have broken me in half if he’d wanted to, I realized. But he hadn’t. To be honest, I’d caused more harm to him than he had to me. His words came back to me. He’d had a family. But he was as alone as I was.
“Why are you out here?” I asked. There were closer places to Deadwood than Scott's Family Diner. The diner wasn’t that far from the city, but it was far enough we couldn’t count on Deadwood Electric and needed the generator.
He chuckled, a warm sound that made the corners of my mouth want to twitch. “I’m hungry, and I have a dog to feed.” He hitched a thumb at the diner. “I didn’t know if your power was out, but I thought I might be able to scavenge some fresh food, and maybe cook Tray and me some breakfast.” He sighed. “I have a ton of canned stuff in my truck and some things in the cooler. It’s morning, though, and I was itching for some bacon. Know what I mean?”
The words, “I have a dog to feed,” had immediately banished the last of my reservations about the guy, but I wasn’t about to let him see that. “The power is out, but we have the generator.” I felt my expression turn sheepish. “My dad always started it.” I hated admitting I didn’t know how to fire up the damn thing, but it was true. I didn’t. I’d never had reason to learn.
Jaz grinned. “I have a few packs of bacon in the cooler.”
This was it. This was the moment. Butterflies flittered inside my stomach. His lazy smile was mesmerizing. Did I trust him? Or did I wait this out alone?
I raised the gun, smiling inwardly as I asked, “It all depends on one thing. Do you like it crispy? Cause if not, I’ll pull this trigger.” It probably wouldn’t work. I wasn’t going anywhere near that safety.
It wasn’t a chuckle this time. Jaz lifted his head and barked out a laugh.
“Crispy. Definitely crispy,” he said. “Anyone else says different, I’ll grab a gun, and we can take turns taking off body parts. How about that?”
My eyes filled. I dropped the gun and almost crumpled to the ground in relief before a pair of strong arms caught me, hugging me tightly.
I was not alone. I was not alone.
***
Jaz
I wasn’t alone. The slight, frail frame in my arms proved it. I wasn’t alone.
Three days. It’d taken three days to fuck me up. Three days of driving away from the cabin. Three days of eating canned shit and searching through the dead bones of whatever roadside diner or gas-station I passed.
I wasn’t alone.
The girl, Jennifer, shook in my arms. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I whispered. I held her in my arms until her muffled sobs settled.
I managed to pry her arms off me long enough to ask, “Now, how about that breakfast?” I glanced at the boxed-in machine at the back of the diner and nodded. As long as there was gas, we were good. I hesitated. “Are you okay with dogs? I mean, you’re too young to be crazy cat lady.”
***
Jennifer
My lips twitched up into a brief smile, and I realized it was the first time that had happened in days. “I love dogs,” I replied, the tears threatening to come again. Only now, when I felt safe, did I think of Mazie, our little Lhasa Apso. She was most likely as dead as the rest of the world. A wave of guilt flowed over me. Mazie had been as much a little sister to me as Jessica.
Jaz smiled widely, hearing my words while mercifully missing my inner turmoil. It was one of those crooked grins. By itself, it looked nice, but coupled with the gleam in his eyes? My stomach gave a tiny lurch, and I knew I was already in too deep. Maybe Jaz was the last guy in the world? I could do a lot worse. It was ridiculous. I knew it wasn't love at first sight – even I wasn't that naïve – but maybe it was lust at first sight? Or maybe it was just the sense of relief that filled me to my bones that there was somebody else alive.
We walked together to his truck, and he opened the door, carefully lifting out a small, furry shape. My heart melted. The poor thing was hurt!
Oh! The dog settled at Jaz’s feet, and he reached down to rub her ears.
“Tray, meet Jennifer.” The dog looked at me, and I was stunned to see two different-colored eyes staring at me. One brown, the other pale blue.
Tears stung my eyes as I went down on one knee and held a hand out. Tray – what sort of a dweeby name was Tray? – limped over and sniffed my palm, then looked back over her shoulder at Jaz. Was she asking for his approval?
Jaz nodded. That was all it took. Tray jumped up and proceeded to lick every square millimeter of my face.
***
Jaz
Tray loved her, that much was clear. In my opinion, for what it was worth, dogs were the best judges of a person’s character. If Tray loved her she was probably okay, but if I were being honest with myself I’d already figured that out. Plus, she’s hot. I instantly berated myself for the thought, but I still couldn’t take my eyes off her…even if I did feel like a cradle robber.
She shook her head, her long, chestnut hair flowing over her slender shoulders in an almost hypnotic dance. “There’s no need to use the stuff from your cooler. I have some bacon in the deep-freeze that should be fine to eat.”
I smiled, and she returned it. I got up the nerve and took her hands. “Jennifer, we’re gonna be just fine.” She looked doubtful, and who could blame her? I shrugged. “I’m not saying we’re not in a mess, but I haven’t seen any of those…things…in places as remote as this.”
I didn't know if I was lying to reassure her, or myself. I didn’t want to think about the cabin and the farm. Both had been in the middle of nowhere, and John and Bill hadn’t survived the first night. I repressed a shudder, keeping my expression friendly and open.
I let go of Jennifer and walked back in through the open emergency door, Tray on my heels, sniffing at everything. She’d recovered well over the last couple of days, and now a slight limp was all she had to show from her heroics. I took in my surroundings as I walked, admiring the simple décor of the small business. Spotting the large, walk-in freezer, I stepped over and pulled the door open. It was completely full, containing thousands of dollars of food inventory and about ten 5-gallon buckets of water, which had formerly been ice. These had slowed the thawing process significantly. As I suspected, the power must have gone out at least two days ago. Most of the food had thawed, but it retained enough residual coolness that the bacon should be safe to eat.
Hell, we wouldn’t stop at that. There were meats of all kinds; hamburger, sausage, even steak if we wanted it, and it all needed to be cooked immediately. I gave Jennifer a smile and left her sitting on the floor, making cooing, sympathetic fuss over Tray’s injuries. The damn dog was lapping it up with a spoon!
A few minutes later, I got the generator started up, and we were in business. I came back inside, and noticed the shotgun on the floor next to Jennifer and Tray.
“You forgot this.” She smiled.
Shit, I was losing my touch. I smirked. “I guess my stomach groaning must have distracted me. Thanks.”
She stood up and laid it on the huge butcher block island in the middle of the kitchen.
“You had me worried there for a while,” I said, nodding toward the weapon.
Jenn’s lips twitched. “You weren’t in any danger, believe me. I hate guns.”
I knew that would have to change, sooner rather than later, but that was a discussion for another day. Today, we were taking a vacation from reality. I walked back into the freezer, emerging with a mountainous armload of meat.
Jennifer gaped. “Wow. You must be hungry.”
Tray barked in agreement, and Jennifer immediately ducked back down to pet her on the head. The dog was going to have that girl trained in no time. “Looks like Tray is, too.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, I’m pretty starving, but this isn’t all for now. I figure if we cook as much as possible, we’ll have enough to keep us going on fresh food for a couple of days, maybe more, if this place stays safe. But for now, let’s settle for breakfast. How do you like your steak?”
We stood in an easy silence as I cooked bacon, hash browns, steaks, and sausage for both of us. Apparently, having spent much of her youth in servitude to the great pagan god, Grill'emupquick, Jennifer was more than happy to watch me cook. Cooking always relaxed me, so I was more than happy to oblige. Jennifer cleared a table in the dining area and fished out clean cutlery. A few minutes later, a delicious scent wafted across the air and I swear my nostrils twitched in joy. Coffee. Real coffee, not the instant crap I’d been forcing down the last few days.
I placed the full-to-overflowing plates on the table and sat facing her, two large mugs of black, gorgeous, steaming coffee topping off what was going to be an epic breakfast.
Tray and I watched Jennifer as she ate. I was pretty sure Tray was more interested in the food, but I took the chance to look at the girl more closely. It looked like a few days of cold meals had made her as ravenous as I was.
We ate in silence, except for the sounds of chewing, slurping coffee, and the occasional whine from the dog. Both Jennifer and I sneaked her a few morsels when we thought the other wasn’t looking. Tray wasn’t about to snitch.
Half an hour later, we sat back in our seats, rubbing our full bellies. Jenny burped. I belched. We laughed. It seemed like a little thing, but the laughter drew us closer, breaking down the suspicions and barriers.
It was time, I thought. “So, how long have you been hiding out here?”
Jennifer’s gaze dropped along with the hands that fell into her lap.
“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine by me, but I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.” I kept my voice low and gentle.
She was silent for a long time; I waited her out. Her hands fidgeted under the table. I didn’t want to push, but at the same time, I was desperate to know.
Her hazel eyes met mine, a panic attack only a step away. I knew I would have to step carefully; I was walking on a minefield here.
“Since it began; since Halloween.”
Shit! She’d spent a week, completely alone, dealing with it.
“Do you know what happened?” I asked softly. I’d seen the huge dish on the roof. She probably knew more than I did. “Me and my friends were up north, in the boondocks,” I explained. “We didn’t know anything had happened until the drive back down.”
Her eyes lit. “There are more of you?”
Her hopeful expression crushed me. I couldn’t meet her gaze. “No. They... didn’t make it.”
I almost flinched as her warm hand clasped mine. “I’m sorry.”
She glanced at the large TV screen mounted on the wall behind the service counter. “When Dad left, I watched it all. Most of the major networks went off the air within a few hours of the attack, but there’s a dish on the roof. The local stations stayed on for a few days. They’re gone now, too.”
Tears welled in her eyes, so I moved to the seat beside hers and took her hands in mine. “So, how did you end up here, all by yourself?”
She paused. I knew the memory was eating her alive.
“I wasn’t alone, not at the start. My dad was with me.” She looked around the interior of the diner with both sadness and pride. “This is his place. I work here sometimes, and we were closing up when my mom called.” Tears were flowing freely, so I held her hands, saying nothing.
“My dad wouldn’t tell me what happened, but I heard her screaming over the phone. I heard what sounded like gunfire.”
I waited, my heart aching on her behalf.
“He told me to wait here, to close down and lock up, and not open up to anyone until he got back with mom and my sister Jessica. And Mazie,” she added, with a sad glance at Tray.
I squeezed her hands reassuringly. “He never came back,” I said. It wasn’t a question, but she nodded. The diner was about thirty miles outside Deadwood. I assumed that’s where her family lived. Judging by what I had gleaned from the papers, the cities hadn’t lasted long. Her father probably hadn’t even made it home. I wasn’t about to tell her that, even though I suspected she already knew it.
“They could have made it to a shelter,” I lied. I was going to have to stop that shit, but…Jesus. She was only nineteen! “The roads in the cities are a mess. He might not have been able to make it back out here.”
“He’s dead! They’re all dead. Everyone’s dead,” Jennifer snapped, visibly wilting. “We’ll be dead soon, too.” This was said in a whisper.
I put a tentative arm around her. After a momentary stiffness, she settled her head on my shoulder. Tray seemed to pick up on her mood as well and nuzzled her furry head against Jennifer’s knee, bringing a wan smile to the girl’s face.
I gripped her shoulder. “We’re going to live, Jennifer,” I said. This time I was not lying.
She started crying again. I didn’t blame her. “I know a place. We...” I stopped talking then. My fists clenched as I fought my own uncertainty. “We were safe there, and you and me…we’ll be safe when we get there.”
Jennifer shook her head. “Those things –” She glanced at the dead screen on the wall. “You didn’t see what they can do.”
“I saw them nuke Boston,” I replied quietly. “On a TiVo box in a mini-mart a few days ago.”
She trembled. “I saw it too. Did you see what happened afterwards?”
I shook my head. I sensed she was on the edge of freaking out again. “What if I told you I’ve already killed some of the fuckers?” Shit! “Sorry. Potty mouth. It comes with the whole Marine thing.”
Jennifer laughed dryly. “It’s fine. Fuckers…” She said the word as if tasting it for the first time. Apparently, cursing wasn’t in her wheelhouse, but she respected my use of the word. “Yeah, I think ‘fuckers’ is a great name for them.”
“Actually, I call them Treaters.” I explained about the picture Ted and I had found.
She looked up at me and smiled. “Treaters…yeah, that fits too. You killed some?”
***
Jennifer
Jaz and I spent the day telling each other our stories and eating like pigs. I cried when I told him about sitting here alone for six nights in darkness, and he smiled.
I asked why.
“Lady,” he said, “I think one of the reasons you’re still here is because you stayed dark.”
“What do you mean?”
Outside of the diner, the light was failing. Jaz got up and began turning off the lights…all the lights. He held yet another cup of steaming coffee, sipping from it as he moved. He seemed to live on the stuff.
Then he turned to me, his expression serious. “I think if you’d gotten that generator going they might have found you.”
My stomach dropped. Earlier today, I’d cursed myself for being so stupid, unable to start the generator. Now? Damn, Jaz was telling me my stupidity might have saved my life.
“You think they’re drawn to electricity?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Jennifer, I have no clue, but my buddies died in a cabin in the Black Hills, the night we came back from our trip.”
I saw his fists clench. I knew this was a hard memory. But wait. The Black Hills were miles away, all forest and wilderness compared to here.
Jaz seemed to sense my thoughts. “Yeah, the cabin was way off the beaten track, but it had two things different from this place.”
He raised a finger. His eyes were silver with barely restrained fury. I wanted to go to him, but I sat still. He had a message, and he needed to say it his way.
“One: when I arrived, the generator was running.”
I saw his wide jaw clench. Damn.
“Two: they…were dead.” I imagined I could hear his teeth grind together, and I saw his knuckles whiten as he gripped the cup. I expected it to shatter at any second, but with visible show of willpower, he forced the anger down into whatever pit it had threatened to overflow from.
Odd, I thought, abstractly. After all these days, he was still clean-shaven. I had no idea why I noticed this, especially not now. I guess part of the Marine he’d been would never die, but…why did that matter now?
But…he’d killed some of them. This single man had done more than the combined might of the entire world’s military arsenal. “How?” I asked, the word barely a whisper. I cleared my throat. “How did you kill them?”
He sighed, then chuckled bitterly. “Johnnie was the one who found out how, but I by the time he did, they were swamped.” He reached down to heft his shotgun…Mr. Shotgun, he’d called it. I smiled.
He “pumped the action,” and I watched every movement carefully. Jaz had been dropping little suggestions and instructive comments into our conversations, and I was picking up the lingo. He caught the small, cylindrical object as it flew through the air. Damn, he was fast.
Holding it up to me, he said, “Rock salt.”
Treaters: Book One of the Divine Conflict. Page 7
