Surviving the Apocalypse

by Tinnean

  “Not only do we have a toilet, but a shower as well, although I think we’d better be sparing with the water and stick to sponge baths instead.”

  “That makes sense. I’m sorry.” It hurt Lync to hear how tired Adam sounded. “I never expected to be in such a situation.”

  Lync made a noncommittal sound. He didn’t want to tell Adam he had, but only because it would have made his dad and Uncle Connor sound like they were not only gullible, but also paranoid doomsday preppers. They’d taught him how to put together a bugout bag, which he kept in the closet in his apartment, not that it would do him much good now.

  “I know I told the management to use this space for storage, but I expected that to be building materials and such. What’s behind door number two?”

  “Huh?” Lync blinked. “Do you know, I never noticed that before.” It was in the shadow of the shelves, not more than three feet high. He crouched down and opened it, then unhooked his flashlight and flashed it over the contents of the space. He let out a low whistle.

  “What’s in there?” Adam asked.

  “MREs.”

  “Meals Ready to Eat? Seriously?”

  “Someone wanted to be prepared. It’s too bad they never made it here.” Though it was odd, since as far as he knew, Lync was the only member of the mall staff who came down here. The day crew thought it was creepy and stayed away from it.

  “How much is in there?”

  Lync did some quick counting and whistled again. “There’s at least forty-two boxes, with twelve meals in each box.” He pulled out the pen he always carried and scrawled some figures on the thigh of his tan work pants.

  “Hmm.” Adam’s lips moved, and then his eyebrow quirked, and he matched Lync’s whistle. “That’s five hundred four meals.”

  “You tallied that up in your head?” Lync knew he sounded admiring. He’d never been good doing math in his head. “And going by the number of bunks…” He scribbled more numbers on his thigh. “That’s a three week supply of MREs.”

  “So you’re saying whoever brought in supplies intended this shelter for eight people?”

  “Yeah.” Lync rose to his feet and put away his pen.

  “The math adds up, but I’m not following. Why that length of time?”

  “According to my dad, that’s about how long it takes for radiation to drop to a level where you can evacuate.”

  “How did he know that?”

  “My dad was a child of the Cold War era. He grew up with those drills, with having to sit against the walls outside his classroom whenever the sirens went off. I guess that caution never left him, and he passed it on to me. I wish I’d known about this stockpile. We wouldn’t have had to run around like chickens with our heads cut off.”

  “But we don’t know how long we’ll have to stay down here.” Adam rested a hand on Lync’s shoulder, and Lync allowed himself to enjoy the warmth that soaked through the material to his skin.

  “That’s true. And even when we can go topside, where could we evacuate to?”

  “Precisely. The MREs are good for years, so we can use them as a backup. And since it’s just the two of us, whatever we have remaining can be used for barter.”

  “I suppose,” Lync said. If others survived, but he didn’t want to voice that morbid possibility.

  “Will your father be all right?”

  “He died fourteen years ago. A drunken hunter thought he was Bambi. Helluva a way for a man like him to go out.” His dad had a bunker out in the woods. That was where he’d been coming from when the hunter blew a hole in him large enough to drive a semi through. Lync hadn’t been there in ages, but he’d kept it in repair out of respect for the man who’d instilled the will to survive in him.

  “I’m…I’m sorry.”

  Lync shrugged. “Thanks.”

  “And your mother?”

  “She died the day I was born.”

  “Who took care of you after your father died?”

  “My Uncle Connor.” Lync didn’t want to talk about that time. Connor had been Dad’s best bud, a really great guy who didn’t even care that Lync was gay. He stayed until Lync graduated high school, then took off for the woods and was never seen again. He was a decent guy, though, and had left behind a note. It all made sense when Lync read it: Connor was gay himself and had been in love with Dad. It almost killed him when Dad died, but he’d stayed because he’d promised Dad he would. But as soon as Lync turned eighteen, Connor left to go be with Dad. “What about your folks, Adam? Will they be okay, do you think?”

  Adam was silent for a long minute. When he finally spoke, it was little above a whisper. “I don’t know. They’re on a cruise, heading toward Hawaii.”

  Lync recalled the false alarm that had the people of that state terrified missiles were about to fall on their island. It had been all over the news, and heads had pretty much rolled. “Did you try calling them?”

  “I did. It went directly to voicemail.”

  “They could have their phones turned off.”

  “Yes. I’m certain that’s what it is.” Although from Adam’s tone, Lync wasn’t sure he believed him.

  “Would they have been at the gala if they’d been here?”

  “Yes. And they would be here now.” Adam squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “Sure.” He scrambled for something to say, then settled on, “Walter’s had a delivery this afternoon.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Walter’s Burgers and Dogs. I wish I’d thought to bring some of that down here.” They could have stocked up on premade patties and franks as well as buns and condiments. Having that along with all the canned goods they’d filled the carts with would have been a nice addition. “Although now I think about it, I didn’t see anything we could use to cook with. No hotplate or grill or microwave down here.”

  Adam stared at him thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  “We could have made hamburger tartar.”

  Lync’s jaw dropped, and then he burst into laughter and shook his head.

  “Sure,” Adam assured him. “A little salt, a little garlic powder. An egg?”

  “Nope, sorry. No eggs.”

  “Ah well. It was just a thought. Although now I have a craving for it.” He grinned, seeming pleased he’d made Lync laugh. But then he became serious. “Will any of it stay good? Laurel Hill Mall does have an emergency generator that’s programmed to work as soon as regular power is lost,” he reminded Lync.

  “If it has enough fuel for the three weeks. Otherwise, all that’ll be left will be the chips, flat soda, and warm beer.”

  “And that will only be if they aren’t contaminated by radiation.”

  “It’s a good thing we have a Geiger counter.”

  Adam stared at him, surprise evident on his face.

  Lync shrugged again. “Whoever set up this place knew what they were doing.”

  “Except for not including something to cook on. And a coffee pot.”

  “Yeah, there is that.” Lync should have thought of that, but even if he had, it wouldn’t have come in handy: neither he nor Adam had thought to stock up on coffee. However…“The breakfast MREs have hot beverage packs. We can check them out in the morning.”

  “Sounds good.” But then Adam sighed, shook his head, and glanced around.

  “What is it?”

  “Is there anything here to pass the time?” he asked.

  Aside from each other? Fortunately, Lync kept those words behind his lips. Adam didn’t need that sort of harassment, not when Lync wasn’t the sort of man he’d be attracted to. “Cards. A couple of board games. Some books. Although whoever chose them had a sick sense of humor. On the Beach, The Stand, Damnation Alley, Farnham’s Freehold.” Lync gave him a wry smile. “The Walking Dead.”

  “Jesus, that’s all we need—zombies!” Adam ran a hand through his hair, then looked at his watch. “It’s almost three.”

  “I’ll show y
ou the toilet and the shower, and then I guess we’d better settle in for what’s left of the night.”

  Adam nodded, took the radio, and walked out of the storage room. “I’ll keep the radio on, in case something comes up.”

  “Sounds good.” Lync flipped the light switch, showed Adam the facilities and left him to use them, then used them himself before he turned off the light in the living area. It didn’t take long for his eyes to become accustomed to the dim illumination of the emergency lights near the ladder and above the entrance to the storage room. He lowered a bunk on the far wall, stripped down to his underwear, and crawled under the covers.

  “Are you worried?” Adam’s voice came out of the dimness.

  Scared shitless was more like it. What if it was just the two of them left? “A little.” A glance toward Adam showed he had removed his formal clothes. Lync’s mouth went dry, and he turned away to avoid temptation. Adam wasn’t wearing an undershirt, and a dusting of hair feathered across his chest and down in a narrow trail along his torso past his navel. The bulk of his dick in his white boxer briefs indicated he was a “shower” rather than a “grower,” although Lync was actually both, a fact that could get him laid as soon as his partner got a look at his dick. It had been fun when he’d been younger, but in recent years he’d wanted more.

  “Lyncoln?”

  “Huh?” He realized Adam had been talking to him while he’d been lost in his lustful thoughts. “Sorry. What did you say?”

  “I said the biggest positive for us right now is that this part of Laurel Hill is in the lowland depression between Laurel Hill and Hatter’s Knob. Hopefully radiation will pass over us. But what happens if we can’t leave here?”

  It was strange Adam would ask that of him, but then, maybe not. Adam was super smart, but his degrees were in business. And okay, maybe Lync had looked him up online.

  Lync rolled over to face his companion. Adam was leaning up on an elbow, staring intently into the dimness of the shelter toward him.

  “We’ll hope it will be safe to go up into the mall.”

  “But if we can’t leave the mall? The supplies we have won’t last forever.”

  “No.”

  “Maybe…maybe taking shelter here wasn’t such a good idea. Not if we’re going to die anyway, of radiation poisoning or starvation.”

  He couldn’t let Adam think that way. “As long as we’re alive, we’ve got a chance.”

  “But—”

  It looked like having a dad who was a prepper was going to come in handy after all. “If we can’t leave the mall, we’ll drain the fountain and set it up to grow a garden.”

  “That’s a great idea, but how can you do that?”

  “We, Adam. We’ll do this together. The hardware store was getting ready for the growing season, and their latest shipment was potting soil and seeds.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I come in early and check out the stores, chat with the managers, see if there’s anything they need me to do.”

  “Laurel Hill Mall is lucky to have you.”

  “Thanks.” Lync could feel a blush heat his cheeks. “I’m just doing my job.”

  “Mmm.” Adam lowered his head to his pillow. “Good night, Lyncoln.”

  “Good night, Adam.” He turned on his side and curled up, and wondered how good a night it was going to be and what kind of a morning they were going to wake up to.

  Well, if they were destined to survive, they would. And if they weren’t…Adam was here with him, and Lync couldn’t think of anyone else he’d want to spend the end of the world with.

  He drew in a deep breath and blew it out, then closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep,

  Chapter 4

  Way to show what a good companion you are in a crisis, Adam castigated himself. He was mortified by how he’d lost control earlier, when he’d thought Lyncoln was going to shut him out of the mall, the only safe haven he could think of in his state of panic.

  The weight of their situation had engulfed him while he’d been in the bathroom, and he’d almost vomited. He hadn’t told Lyncoln the second call he’d made to his parents’ cell phones had failed entirely. He wanted to think it was because the cell towers were affected, but he was terrified to think they’d been caught in the blast from the missile that could have struck Hawaii or the surrounding islands.

  He was ashamed of himself. Lyncoln had lost his father when he was fourteen. Adam was an adult. He should be dealing with it better.

  Lyncoln’s deep, steady breathing indicated he’d fallen asleep. Adam breathed deeply himself and shifted, trying to get comfortable on the hard, narrow bunk. Its thin mattress, nothing like his custom mattress at home, helped, but not much. He wished Lyncoln was beside him.

  He’d seen Lyncoln when he’d first toured the mall a few years before. Lyncoln was a tall man with blond hair and green eyes, and Adam had been drawn to the young worker’s shaggy good looks. He’d always had a preference for blue-collar lovers who would cheerfully top him and accept nothing more than he was willing to give. Lyncoln would have fit the bill perfectly, an easy-tempered young man from what Adam had seen, competent in the grasp of his job, and satisfied with his lot in life. Adam was certain he could turn over the reins of their lovemaking and not have to worry about being hurt.

  Adam’s own plans for the little city of Laurel Hill started with renovating and expanding the Laurel Hill Mall. It brought in jobs not only in construction but in retail as well, and the influx of workers had boosted the economy. His father had agreed, but on the provision he consider marrying Morrison Dupuis. Once he realized “consider marrying” actually meant “proposing to Morrison and marrying him in a tasteful yet elaborate ceremony suitable to their position in society,” Adam gave up all hope of possibly dating Lyncoln Ryland.

  Morrison was eight years his junior and had just finished attending a well-known out-of-state college—well-known more for its partying than its academic credentials. However, Morrison’s family was well-to-do and had the political connections Adam’s family would need to proceed with bringing Laurel Hill back from the brink of decay.

  The thing was, Morrison had a tendency to be rough. The first time they’d kissed, Morrison had actually bitten at Adam’s mouth and split his lip. In addition, he’d gripped Adam’s arms so tightly he’d left bruises on them.

  Shortly before his parents left for their cruise to Hawaii, he’d talked to his father about it, touching his sore mouth.

  “I don’t want you hurt, my boy,” Dad had said, although his disappointment was obvious. “If you can’t find it in you to care about him, then of course I won’t pressure you.”

  Adam had sighed. He knew that tone of voice. “I’ll talk to him about it. Perhaps he was just too enthusiastic.”

  Dad had grinned and patted his shoulder, his relief equally obvious, and the next day, Adam had driven his parents to the port and waved them off.

  He still hadn’t found the opportunity to talk to Morrison by the time the night of the gala at the opera house had rolled around. Or perhaps he’d just been avoiding the situation, telling himself he’d been too involved with the renovation of the mall. Adam promised himself he’d do it on the drive home afterward.

  The entire evening had been a disaster, starting with having to pick up the young man his parents suggested would make a perfect addition to the family.

  He’d driven his BMW to the mansion where Morrison lived with his parents, and Adam let him chatter on about the gala, which was to raise money for a new children’s hospital.

  “Everyone who’s anyone will be there.” And Morrison went on to name every politician who lived in the surrounding area and a good many who didn’t but who were coming as a favor to his father. “Oh, and Mother and Father said to be sure to thank you. They’re delighted you invited them to join us in your box.”

  What had possessed him to make the offer? The older couple was smug and overbearing and condescended to everyone they perc
eived to be below them in social status.

  Well, if he got things straightened out with Morrison, Adam would be marrying him and not his parents. Determinedly, he pushed any sort of relationship with Lyncoln from his mind.

  The gala had been winding down when the head of the venue’s security came out to make an announcement. Under the harsh glare of the lights, his face had been pale and the line of his mouth grim.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just received word that the possibility of missiles being launched at the United States has become very real, and we are now at war. Please don’t panic—”

  But of course his last words were too late. The room was inundated with screams as people bolted from the building to where their cars sat in the parking lot. Adam grabbed Morrison’s arm. “Wait. The mall is the closest—”

  “Go to the mall in a situation like this? Are you insane?” Morrison yanked his arm free, and shoved Adam away from him, causing him to stagger backward as he tried to keep his footing. Morrison seemed to forget all about him as he rushed with his parents to their Rolls Royce.

  Adam’s car was some distance away, and by the time he reached it, it was almost impossible to find Morrison and his parents. Adam did try to keep them in view, as he’d told Lyncoln, but there had been too many cars, and once the power grid went down, it was just too dark to spot one Rolls Royce amid all the others. The parking lot had become a disaster area, with cars ramming into one another, their occupants screaming in terror and in pain.

  Adam managed to get safely out of the parking lot, and then he took his own advice and drove west toward the mall, using a little known side road. He’d never been so scared and had to clench his sphincters to keep from soiling himself. At any moment he expected the sky to light up as the missiles fell, and he had to consciously keep his foot light on the gas pedal. It wouldn’t do him any good if he sent his BMW crashing into a tree or a fire hydrant.

  The drive seemed to take forever, but he’d finally arrived at the mall. It had been in total darkness, and he’d whimpered. Oh God, what am I going to do if Lyncoln has already gone home? Adam knew his address, but he’d never be able to find it without any light to help him pick out the house number. But then he’d seen the figure hovering outside the mall’s entrance.