The next morning however, things blew up for Ginny. She went from having a few hundred readers to thousands. Her story was more than just popular; she was trending hardcore on nearly every social media site. It was like overnight instant celebrity status and Ginny wasn’t sure how to handle it. What was worse was wondering whether or not Liam had found out about the blog and what he would think about it. She had never stopped to think about what Liam’s reaction would be to her blog. Ginny had to see Liam right away.
Quickly Ginny punched the numbers into her phone and the sound of a dial tone filled her ears. But Liam didn’t answer, instead it went to voicemail. Ginny was conflicted about whether or not she should leave a voicemail or not when another call came ringing in. It was Liam.
“Liam?” Ginny was slightly panicked but tried to keep her voice calm.
“Ginny can you come over right away?” Liam had an odd tone to his voice which threw Ginny off.
“Of course, I can be there in less than fifteen minutes.” Ginny started to grab her stuff and head for the door.
“Good, I will see you soon then.” Liam hung up and Ginny rushed down the four flights of stairs and dashed out onto the street. An odd sense of uncertainty gripped her and made her stomach flip the entire journey from her apartment to Liam’s. Had he already found out about the blog? Was it something else entirely? Not knowing exactly what it was, was killing Ginny. The fifteen minute drive seemed like an eternity to her.
Finally the cab pulled up the familiar building and Ginny made her way through the security and onwards to Liam’s penthouse apartment. This time as she stood in front of his door the nervousness she was feeling wasn’t necessarily good. She knocked softly, still unsure of what she was about to be facing. The door opened and Liam stood there, a picture of pure chaos. It was then that Ginny realized her summons to his penthouse apartment was not in relation to the blog. There was something far greater at work here.
“Liam? What’s wrong?” Ginny moved to pull him into a comforting hug, but Liam withdrew into his apartment and Ginny, though hurt at his reaction, followed him inside. Softly she shut the door behind her and followed where Liam had disappeared to. Around the corner she saw him sitting on the couch, a bundle of nerves and perhaps even the slightest hint of fear. Now Ginny was truly worried.
“Liam, talk to me.” Ginny had never seen this man before her, he was all nerves and uncertainty and it made Ginny insanely worried and curious as to the reason why. Liam built up his courage and opened his mouth. When the words finally came out Ginny instantly wished they hadn’t.
“Philippa has awoken from her slumber.” Ginny was lucky she was close to the couch as her legs gave out from underneath her. There was so much more behind those simple words than perhaps even Ginny knew. But in that moment Ginny knew the unwavering fact that Liam’s former lover, one whom he had thought of over the course of centuries, the woman he compared to her, was awake. Ginny could have cried. How could the love they had just started to share with each other compare with a love that surpassed time itself? There was no comparison.
“I never thought this day would come, it has been so long I hardly even remembered what she looked like.” Ginny was pulled back, suddenly unsure of what Liam was trying to say. She dared not speak, hesitant to break the thought process Liam was working through.
“I know I should be with her as she wakes, but all my mind can think about it you. The love I had for Philippa should be filling me, but it’s not. The moment you walked into the door I knew why my love hadn’t come back. My heart belongs to you now.” Liam then moved his eyes from boring holes in the floor to piercing Ginny’s soul. Had he really chosen her over his love from across time?
The distance between them was suddenly closed as Liam stood from the couch and pulled Ginny into an intimate embrace and cupped her face with his hands. There was a warmth in his hands that Ginny hadn’t noticed before and in that moment she knew with all her heart that Liam had chosen her. He had chosen their new love over the centuries of love for Philippa. Ginny pulled Liam down and their lips crashed together. Their love was going to be something for the ages, Ginny was sure.
THE END
Love and Survival in the Time After
Leela Ash
Copyright ©2016 by Leela Ash. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Layne's heart was in her throat as the footsteps behind her receded. It had been a long time since she'd had a confrontation with one of the tribes. This time she'd gone to the wrong watering source. She thought that the public pool would be safe, for some reason. Although most of them were dried up, you could usually find at least a supply of sunscreen to protect you from the harsh sunlight, or if you were really lucky, there would be enough clean water left to quench your thirst and fill your bottle.
She'd been due for a refill for a while now and although it was reckless, she had been desperate enough to get herself into danger. She had a bottle of beer left from the last batch she'd brewed, but that was strong enough to dull her senses and get her into trouble. Besides, it would just dehydrate her more. She would have to remember that this area was ruled by the Jackals – the name for the small gang of people who had claimed this turf. After the virus hit and wiped out most of the population, leaving only a few lucky survivors in every city, the tribes had been a way to find peace and security amongst other people who were dealing with the same crisis. There had been safety in numbers, or so they told themselves. While many had been afraid to wander the deserted world alone, moving forward with others didn't seem that bad.
She herself had been part of a group in those first few chaotic years. Being a talented chemist, she'd aligned herself with a team of doctors claiming to seek a cure to the problem, but as it turned out most of them were frauds and civilians, delusional with a self-important mission they weren't educated enough to accomplish. Everybody was hoping for a miracle and she'd been lured in by their pretense. Ultimately, the group split due to bruising of egos and no real direction and she'd been on her own ever since then, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so far out of hand.
As a scientist, she had to trace the line of cause and effect. A pharmaceutical company had ordered vaccinations against what they claimed was an alien virus from space – which was absurd, but everybody was so desperate for answers that they accepted the explanation. Now everybody knew that the first guess had been way off, but back then that was the government's grounds for getting as many people as possible under the needle for a miraculous vaccine that they had commissioned the company, Grow Inc, to develop. In a sad, ironic twist of fate, the virus they thought came from a meteorite that had landed in St. Petersburg, had actually been the result of lax safety precautions, as a team of scientists experimented with a cure for the common cold. They'd flown the team to Russia to try and evade SFT (Safety in Future Technology) safety standards, and the end result had been disastrous.
The antivirus had been promising, and they had been convinced that by pushing the envelope, it would be successful. In initial experiments it had a 100% success ratio, though it hadn't been tested over the long term. After the meteorite crashed into the yard outside the Russian facility where the American scientists had been mentoring a group of people who were working together to rid the world of disease, that was when the results of the virus began to be seen, and how the SFT had gotten involved, claiming that the virus, because it was so difficult to contain and treat, had extraterrestrial origins.
If they had checked more closely, they would have seen that the people that they had injected with the initial strain of vaccination had become carriers of the malicious virus, infecting everybody they came into contact with without even knowing it. A few cases had been reported in Amer
ica shortly after the scientists returned, and before long half of St. Petersburg was in chaos. People were coughing up blood and begging for release from a pain that nobody could pinpoint, but everybody could agree was the worst they had ever felt. It seemed to move throughout the body, inflaming certain parts for a small amount of time before retreating and coming back with double the force.
Because of the rapid spread in St. Petersburg, everybody assumed that was the origin of the virus, and the city was put under strict quarantine. Unfortunately, it was no use. It spread all over the world with startling speed. Nobody thought that the virus might be in the vaccination. Ironically, the claim was that because the first vaccination had been successful enough during the preliminary trials, it should be utilized now, in this time of crisis. The SFT felt they had no choice and allowed the vaccinations to reach the mainstream market. Every day, for weeks, hundreds of people lined up to receive their vaccine, thinking it would be the only thing that might save them.
Carriers were being created left and right, but those whose immune systems weren't as strong, or whose bodies didn't contain an immunity in their genes, were left defenseless against it. Days after the vaccination, the coughing would begin, until finally people began to catch on that it wasn't an alien virus that was killing people – it was one being spread by the vaccine.
But it was too late. Within a few years, almost everybody was gone. With the exception of a few green-tinged carriers who had made it through, a few genetically privileged people, and some who had managed to escape both the carriers and the vaccinations until the virus finally became dormant. Life as they knew it had crumbled. Layne had no family or friends left, and she had felt so lost and alone, crying on her doorstep when the small group of “scientific” people had wandered past. They saw that she lacked the green-tinge of the carriers and the paleness of the infected, and welcomed her into their group saying they were heading somewhere safe, somewhere far away from there, and they were going to find the cure. Would she help?
She didn't want to leave, but she also knew that she couldn't stay. From that point forward, her survival would depend upon her ability to move on, and that's all she needed to know.
Chapter 2
Jax scooped a handful of water from the stream he was kneeling at, examining it closely. It was clean, he determined, and he drank deeply, wiping his mouth, allowing a few stray drops of water to drip off his chin. His dark, alert eyes scanned the trees. The wind moved boughs peacefully, but he wouldn't be fooled by the serenity. He thought he had heard a sound.
He grabbed his backpack – the holder of all his worldly possessions and a single reminder of home, where he came from, and slung it over his shoulder. He had found it heavy at first, but now he'd become accustomed to its weight, feeling nearly naked without it resting warmly on his shoulder. It reminded him of a pet he once had, a lizard he had named Jenko. Jenko sat on him like his bag did, his body temperature cool until Jax's body heat warmed it up. It was nice to pretend that he wasn't alone.
Alone was safer though, and the sound of others had brought his pulse to racing. He moved nimbly through the trees toward the sound, gripping a piece of glass tightly. He had been using it for a weapon for a few months, and had duct taped the edge so he could grip it firmly as he swiped it at whatever threat was looming. There were more wild dogs than ever now. After the humans had begun to die out, their pets grew feral and ran rampant around the cities and towns, meeting and breeding, populating the emptiness with their own pups. The same was true of cats, though their feral nature was already commonplace where he came from. Cats and their kittens roamed the streets without fear. He'd enjoyed it at first, feeling that finally it was time for man's supposed best friend to take his rightful place on the food chain. It seemed like poetic justice in a way.
Now though, the savage creatures would show no mercy. They vaguely remembered humans, and didn't think very fondly of them on the whole. The result was that he now had to fear both man and beast. At night, he had to keep watch for the glowing eyes of feral cats who wouldn't hesitate to jump out of the foliage and grip whatever was moving with fierce claws and teeth. He missed the way things used to be, when they were simple and safe. He had been younger then, and the few people who survived had created a new, hellish world all their own – one he wanted no part of.
The sound of heavy footfalls – a twig snapping loudly – brought him to attention. Somebody was running, heading toward the stream where he was standing dumbly, staring off into the distance. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the sound. Somebody was probably being chased. Sure enough, a stampede of feet followed closely after the first person he had heard. The Jackals were apparently after new prey. He shifted, selfishly irritated that the person they were chasing might lead them to him. He had been so peaceful there, but now he would have to hide.
He leapt up into a nearby tree, watching the action unfold. He wouldn't get involved; he would just stay out of sight long enough for the danger to pass and then go about his business. A woman burst through the bushes, her long, light brown hair framing her face. She gazed longingly at the water – he felt a pang of pity, as it was a look he knew well – but she was trapped and couldn't drink. She looked around helplessly, her beautiful oval face contorted in panic and fear. He groaned to himself and lowered himself to the ground, motioning her over to him. She didn't seem to be wearing any of the signature clothing styles of the tribes he was familiar with, and he had a fleeting, hopeful thought that maybe she was like him and didn't belong to any of them.
That was unlikely though – the safety and food security in a gang was tempting to most people after the virus had hit, and he was sure that most others would have to be crazy to try to make it on their own.
“Up there,” he hissed. “Go!”
She looked at him in confusion before registering what he said. He didn't wait for her to respond before he hoisted her up, letting her step hard on his muscular forearm, and then took off running, throwing a large stone into the stream, hoping it would keep them off the trail, and dodging into a bush just as the three Jackals arrived, panting and swearing, their bare chests heaving as they gulped in air and looked into the stream.
“Where'd the bitch go?” the scrawniest asked. His hair was buzzed short and bleached white by the sun.
“We should split up,” the leader of the small group decided. He tugged at his pant leg – the Jackals went around shirtless with one pant leg up and one down to make them distinctive – and pointed into the stream. “All yours, Buggy.”
The third man groaned. He was tall and lanky, with sandy blonde hair and a small, round face.
“Why do I always get the shit jobs, Orson?” he complained.
“Because you always whine about it,” Orson said, slapping him hard on the back. It left a red imprint. “Now be a fuckin’ man and go get that sea hag out of the water.”
Buggy grumbled to himself as he waded in, looking around for her. Orson and the blonde split up in different directions, leaving Buggy alone. He waded around for about half a minute, before an epiphany struck him.
“This is stupid,” he growled, wading back out of the stream. “Jinx never has to do this shit.” He began to wring his pant legs out. “I don't see nothin'!”
As he said this, his eyes fixed on a shuddering branch. Suddenly, he saw bare, tan legs and recognition flickered on his face. He hurried forward, opening his mouth to alert his friends. Before he could, his throat was filled with blood. Jax was behind him, the shard of glass lodged into Buggy's esophagus. He uttered a strangled gurgle and collapsed to the ground. The woman in the tree watched, paralyzed.
“Did you find anything, Bug?” Orson asked, emerging suddenly out of the brush. Jax crouched, lunging like a panther, and tackled Orson to the ground. He tried reaching to his side to pull out his weapon, but Jax was too powerful. Orson hit his head hard on a rock, momentarily stunning him. It was just long enough for Jax to slash him, leaving him for dead on the gro
und.
A few final, terrifying beats passed as Jinx approached, whistling as if calling to a housecat. He took one look at his friends lying dead on the ground and his face turned white. Jax glared at him, ready to strike.
“Fuck this,” Jinx said, and turned on his heel and ran away.
Chapter 3
Nothing could have prepared her for what happened after she let the lithe stranger hoist her into the tree. She'd had no choice but to let him help her, otherwise she would have been killed. Now she stayed put, corpses littering the ground at her feet. Would the man who saved her think she owed him something now? She hadn't asked for his help, and hadn't thought of the consequences of accepting it until it was too late. She saw what he was capable of, he could probably kill her in an instant. What would he want to do with her?
He saw her staring at him, and could tell instantly that she was feeling intimidated.
“You're safe now,” he said. From the way he spoke, she could tell he wasn't used to the sound of his own voice. His words were labored and he flinched at the sound of their harshness against the silence.
“Thank you,” she said, not moving from her spot in the tree. It seemed silly to stay there, knowing he could probably jump up there at a moment's notice, but she wanted to keep her distance from him as long as she could.
“There’s no other way to deal with the Jackals,” he said apologetically. “It didn't used to be this way.”
He turned his back on her and began to walk toward the stream, where he washed the blood off of his arms and took a long drink of water.
“You should drink,” he said, remembering the longing look in her eyes when she had seen the water. Her bottle must have been empty. Maybe she didn't have one. But everybody had one, they had to.
SCAR (LOST CREEK SHIFTERS NOVELLAS Book 2) Page 31
