by C S Carver
I drop my spoon into my empty bowl and clear my throat. “Tomorrow we’ll head out.”
Everyone looks up from their dinners to gape at me.
“What?” Max says from across the table, his eyebrows raised.
I look him straight in the eyes. “Storm’s broken. We still got a long way ahead of us and I don’t want to overstay our welcome.”
“You can stay until Kenzie’s leg is better,” Sarah offers.
“I hear the Coastal Settlement has a proper hospital.” I look from Sarah to Roxy, confident she’ll back me on this. “They’d do a better job than any of us.”
Roxy turns her apologetic smile to Sarah. Sarah nods, but her frown deepens. She opens her mouth, then decides against it and turns her attention back to her barely touched stew. She’s so heavily pregnant the baby’s probably pushing on her stomach.
“All right,” I declare louder than intended. “Everyone be ready to leave at dawn.” I grab my dishes and drop them off in the kitchen before anyone can say anything, then I make for the front door. Shrugging on my coat, I step out into the cold evening air and inhale until my lungs are fit to burst.
The door opens and shuts behind me. “Not now, Max,” I say over my shoulder.
“Good thing I’m not Max then.” Devon’s voice washes over me and I shiver. He sits down on the top step and beckons me to join. I take a seat next to him, leaving a neat six inches of space between us. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re a horrible liar.” He turns to me and I avoid his eyes. “Was it something I did? Said?”
“No.”
“Then talk to me.” Devon reaches for my hand and I flinch. Guilt punches through me as his shocked expression turns to hurt.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“You won’t know till you try.”
I want to confide in him. Want to tell him everything, but can I handle his look of shock and disgust when he learns what I did? I'd rather he remembers me as the guy who gave him his first blowjob.
“Okay,” Devon says, a trace of exasperation in his voice. “If you won’t talk, you can listen.”
I brace myself. Whatever nasty thing he’s going to say about me, it’s nothing I haven’t heard already. Meg got really good at tearing me down.
“I don’t know what happened in your past, and frankly, I don’t care.” He leans his elbows on his knees and blows hot air into his hands. “We’ve all done bad things. We had to. There was no drill for what to do when a deadly virus destroys humanity and civilization falls.”
I blink and try to process his words.
“Zane.” He looks at me with his big, kind eyes, and my insides twist. “What you did during desperate times doesn’t define you.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re hurting and I want to...I don’t know. Help?” He reaches for my hand and this time, I let him. His skin is cold, but the pressure of his fingers warms the chill in my chest. His gaze blankets me, and I believe he would forgive me for every bad thing I ever did.
I want to pull him into my arms and cling to him as I cling to his words. I want to believe them so damn much. But those are words of forgiveness. And what I did? That was unforgivable. I swallow the lump in my throat and pull my hand from his. “Why do you care? Because we slept together?”
His eyes harden and the muscle in his jaw ticks. “For God’s sake, get over yourself.”
My chest seizes at his clipped tone. “I’m gonna head in. Got an early start tomorrow. Thanks…for taking us in. For everything.”
“A ‘thanks for the good times’ and you’re just going to leave?” He gapes at me. “Will I ever see you again? After everything, don’t you think I deserve a little more than a nod and a wave goodbye?”
He’s right. He deserves better, but I can’t give it to him. “What do you want from me?”
“I just want to help, and I can’t do that if you shut me out.” His brows pinch. “Why are you in such a rush to get away from here? From me?”
He’s got all the questions and I want to answer none of them. “Sorry, bud. I told you I’m not a good person.”
I push to my feet and turn toward the house. His hand snaps out and clamps around my wrist. He shoots up beside me, and for the first time, I feel the two inches he has on me. “That’s such a load of crap.” His eyes blaze silver flames. “Stop patronizing me, Zane.”
I yank my arm from his grip. “You know what? I—”
The front door flies open before I can utter another word. We turn to find Max gesturing like a mad man with both hands. He's panting and smiling, and his eyes bug out of his head with excitement.
“You guys, it’s Sarah. I think the baby’s coming!”
CHAPTER FOUR
DEVON DISAPPEARS INSIDE before Max’s words sink in.
“Zane,” Max says as he glances over his shoulder then back at me again. “You coming? Could really use your help.”
I snap out of my stupor and follow Max inside. We’ve delivered a few roadside babies in the past, but we always had monitoring equipment. Doing this old school with training from over a decade ago will be interesting. Worst-case scenario—nope, not going there.
Sarah’s already in bed when we get to her room. Devon holds her hand as she breathes through a contraction. “Max, go boil some water.”
He nods before disappearing down the hall.
“When did the contractions start?” I smooth a hand over Sarah’s sweaty brow.
“She’s been getting cramps on and off all afternoon, but didn’t think much of them, then her water broke while we were doing dishes,” Roxy offers as she steps into the room. “You’ve done this before, yes?” Her piercing eyes turn on me.
“A few times when the mothers couldn’t make it to the hospital.”
“Thank god,” Roxy mumbles and sits down by the foot of the bed.
Sarah opens her mouth, but her face contorts and whatever she was about to say comes out a keening whine instead. She grips Devon’s hand, and a sheen of sweat glistens on her forehead.
When it passes, she huffs a sigh. “How bad does it get?”
Roxy smiles and squeezes Sarah’s foot. “It’ll be over before you can say ‘Is it a boy?’”
“I’m—” Sarah takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m scared, Roxy.”
“Don’t be.” Another squeeze. “Women give birth at home all the time. You’ve got Devon and me. And Max and Zane have delivered babies before.”
Sarah turns to me and I nod, hoping my face shows more confidence than I feel. It’s been well over a decade since I did this. The last time we almost lost the mother and the baby.
The contractions grow closer and more severe, but we have nothing to take the edge off. Roxy coaches Sarah's breathing in soothing whispers, and Sarah grits her teeth and sobs through the pain each time, then sags back into her pillows looking increasingly exhausted.
Between checking Sarah’s vitals and holding her hand through her worsening contractions, I forget about the conversation on the porch. Forget about Devon’s anger and my need to run away from him. My issues are minuscule in the face of Sarah’s struggle, and the only thing that matters is helping her get through tonight and bringing her baby into the world safe.
Fearful excitement thrums through me, and a familiar anticipation unfurls from my chest until every part of me is vibrating.
Sarah has three more contractions before Max hurries back with a basin of water, towels, and the kettle. Everything happens at once after that, and Max takes my place next to Sarah while I shout enthusiastic encouragement and firm commands for Sarah to push.
I can’t believe I’m witnessing the birth of a new life after all these years, and my heart pounds louder every time the baby crowns.
After another round of agonized pushing, the baby slips into my waiting hands. A warm, squirming, shrivelled little boy whose shrill cries burst a dam in my chest and my eyes sti
ng with tears. It all comes rushing back with so much force I can’t breathe. The moment I held my newborn son in my trembling hands. The fear and uncertainty and joy rushing through me when his tiny hand closed around my finger.
I clean him and wrap his tiny body in a thick, soft blanket, and gaze at his little face. I want to clutch him to my chest and whisper soothing words into his tiny ears. Want to kiss his forehead and breathe in his newborn scent. I imagine his first smile and his first steps and wonder what kind of man he’ll become. Something breaks inside me all over again and my lungs freeze in my chest.
I had once wondered the same things about another little boy.
Max takes him from me and hands Sarah the tiny bundle, and the baby continues to cry until Sarah pulls up her blouse. He latches onto the offered nipple and suckles and the room quiets.
Sarah looks exhausted but radiant as she lays there, a content smile on her lips. Her eyes flutter shut, and she cradles her baby just like Meg cradled our son all those years ago.
Max looks at me and his smile fades, his brows knitting. “You all right?”
I blink and try to reply, but my nose is stuffed and my cheeks are wet. Shit. I nod, shake my head, and turn to flee the room as a sob escapes my lips.
By the time I stumble into our room, everything is a watery mosaic. A large, gentle hand lands on my shoulder, and I spin with my fist raised to find Max’s concerned face inches from mine.
“Whoa there, tiger,” he says as he holds out both hands, palms toward me. “Just here to see if you’re okay.”
I take a deep, shaky breath and lower my arm, then slump onto the bed. Max takes a seat next to me and sighs.
“Pretty amazing, huh?”
“…yeah.” I wipe the back of my hand across my nose.
Max puts a hand on my shoulder. “Reminds me of when Asher was born.” My chest seizes and I swallow the lump in my throat. “We should stay a while longer.”
Heat drains from my body and I shudder. Everything about the baby reminds me of Ash. From his sweet little smile to the pain in his frightened eyes when he collapsed, his hands scrabbling at his throat as the virus froze his lungs. Meg and I were immune, and we thought he would be too.
When he fell ill, my world shattered.
To stay would mean reliving that moment on repeat, and I won't survive that.
“I—” My voice cracks and I cough to clear my throat. “I can’t, Max. I can’t stay. You know that. We’re leaving first thing in the morning.”
“C’mon, man. They’re gonna need our help.”
“I said we’re leaving in the morning.”
Max’s expression hardens and my heart sinks. He makes a disgusted noise in the back of his throat and pushes to his feet. “Fine. I’ll help you get Roxy and Kenzie to the settlement, then I’m coming back,” he says, and the pain in his voice cuts through me. We’ve had each other’s backs since our college days. Now I’ve forced him to choose between his personal happiness and his loyalty to me. And here I thought I couldn’t get any lower.
“Max, I’m sorry.” I reach for his arm, but he steps away. “I’m—”
"I love her, Zane," He shakes his head and stares at me with tears in the corners of his eyes. “It’s time we started living and stopped being so goddamn afraid.”
~*~*~
Devon hands Max the car keys while I collect my jaw from the ground. I didn't know Devon had a truck, but now that I think about it, it makes sense. How else would he travel between settlements to trade?
“I’ll pick up the stuff you need and be back by tomorrow night,” Max says.
“Just be careful,” Devon replies. “The roads are slippery.”
“Gotcha.”
Max and Sarah share a murmured goodbye and he kisses her with a tenderness I've never seen from him. Devon refuses to look at me, and Roxy and Kenzie avoid my eyes as they say their goodbyes and pile into the back of the truck. Just as well. Once we arrive at the settlement, we’ll part ways.
I climb into the passenger seat and yank on my seatbelt, waiting for Max to get behind the wheel. As we pull away, I stare into the rear view mirror until Devon and Sarah are tiny dots in the distance and ignore the gnawing hole expanding in my chest.
Outside, dawn approaches. A thick layer of snow covers the ground, but we make good time in Devon’s truck. Before long, we’re zooming down the old highway and eating the distance to the Coastal Settlement.
If we keep this up, we should make it in under eight hours.
Max stares ahead, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel, and he's still ignoring me. Annoyance flares, but I dig my nails into my thighs and squash it down. It won’t matter in a few more hours. It’s not like I’ve never had someone I love walk out of my life before. I bounced back then; I can bounce back from this, too.
The road stretches ahead and we drive in silence. Soft snores drift from the back seat as the sun crests the hilltops. Max clears his throat and gives me a sidelong glance. “I know what you’re thinking.”
I take a break from staring out the window and cock a brow at him. “Do you?”
“Give it up, Zane. I’ve seen how you look at Devon. I have eyes.” Max turns back to the road, but his shoulders droop and his grip loosens around the steering wheel. “And we all guessed what you two got up to when you slacked off that afternoon.”
I shake my head and snort. “Can’t get anything past you.”
He shrugs. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Well, it’s all moot now.” I turn to stare out the window once more. “He doesn’t need me to ruin his perfect little world.”
“Perfect little world?”
“Yeah. Farm, family, and all that.” I twirl a finger in the air.
“You’re so fucking dense. That kid’s been through a lot.”
“We all went through a lot.”
“When the virus hit, he had to make some hard choices.” Max hits the wheel with the heel of his palm and catches my eyes in the reflection of the passenger window. “You weren’t the only one who had to do what needed to be done.”
Dread pools in my gut and I turn to stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“Only he and Sarah were immune. The rest of his family got sick,” Max says. “Instead of watching them suffer, Devon made Sarah wait in the barn and gave his parents and two younger siblings strong horse tranqs. She was sixteen, and he was only eighteen when it happened.”
My eyes widen. Christ. “How did you—”
“Sarah told me. It took them a long time to get the farm to the way it is now, even with Scott's help. She was so happy when you two disappeared that afternoon.” He cocks a brow at me. “Said to me, and I quote ‘it’s about damn time Devon found someone.’”
Shame and guilt churn up a storm in my gut. My chest tightens as if an invisible hand is squeezing my lungs and I can’t breathe.
“Meg...she didn’t mean those things she said to you when Asher died.” Max puts a large hand on my knee and squeezes, and I nearly break down a second time in as many days. “You know that right?”
I nod, then shake my head. I know she didn’t mean it. She was hurt and angry and she’d just lost her son. Our son. But knowing doesn’t make the words hurt any less even ten years later.
Fuck. I was such an asshole to Devon. How does he live with that stain on his past and still be so optimistic? So…unsullied? I take a deep breath, then another, and try to ignore the pounding behind my eyes.
I accused him of being naïve, but he knows exactly what it was like. Hell, he probably had the same nightmares that kept me awake for years. He knows the pain and risks of loving someone, yet he does it anyway and spreads kindness while the rest of the world gorges on selfish gains.
It’s because of Devon that I’m alive today. And I repaid his kindness by spitting in his face after getting him naked. I’m a real piece of work.
We make the rest of the drive in silence. I can’t bring myself to look at Max. Or Ro
xy or Kenzie. They all knew, and they choose not to judge me.
We arrive at the Coastal Settlement in the late afternoon. The council welcomes us in, and an ambulance takes Roxy and Kenzie to the hospital as soon as we register as new settlers. I accompany Max as he picks up the list of supplies Devon gave him, then Max drops me off at my assigned apartment building.
“You know, it’s not too late to come with me,” he offers.
I shake my head. “If you were Devon would you forgive me after what I pulled?”
“Probably not. But Devon's not me.” He grins then stares at me for a long moment. “Take care of yourself, Zane.”
“You too.” I pull him in for a hug and hang on a beat longer than usual. “Go take care of that baby.”
He nods, then waits for me to climb out of the truck. I watch him pull away, and stand rooted to the ground for a long, long time.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE FIRE WAS small and easily contained. Some idiot left his stove on and locked himself out of his apartment.
I pull off my helmet and suck down a lungful of cool air, then turn to see two other firefighters walk out of the building holding two large fans. It took two of us to knock down the door and a third to put out the stove fire, then it was a matter of blowing the smoke out of the unit and clearing the hall. The damages are minimal, but the punishment will be harsh.
A month of being here, and I’m starting to understand the unspoken policies. Everything is fine and dandy until you endanger resources. Resources like apartment buildings that are hard to replace.
I’ve seen too many people punished severely for the smallest offences, and this one won’t be any different.
“Hey, Zane.” Eddie, one of the guys who ran into the building with me, drapes an arm around my shoulder and jostles me. “That was a lot less exciting than I was expecting.”
“What, would you rather the whole building went up in flames?” I try to swallow my annoyance, but I’m not sure it’s working.
