by Munson, Brad
“Join me. Join us. It’s time to save the world.”
EPILOGUE 2
“You are such a coward,” Rebecca Hall said. Stiles just snorted at her.
“Am not,” he said.
They were standing on the porch of their brand new house in a recently recovered section of Omaha, Nebraska that he had to admit, he already loved. The housewarming party, just last week, had been wonderful. Castillo had come, Brewster had stopped by, still being all mysterious and superior about his time “out there.” Krueger had drunk too much of that sweet new ‘shine imported from New Abraham. Even Keaton had come to town just for the occasion, hitching a ride on the most recent shipment of eggs and fuel. It had been a good day. He was hoping it would be the first of many.
Mark Stiles was finally done with war. It was time to start building things instead.
“Just take the medal,” she said, stroking the back of his neck in exactly the place he liked it most. “Sherman really wants you to have it.”
“Come on,” he said. “Let it be. I didn’t do anything to get this blood; it’s like getting rewarded for being born with blue eyes or something.”
“It’s not about the blood, you dope,” she said. “It’s about you. You know: saving the world from the RSA and all that. Castillo and the other took their medals. Even Ewan stepped up.”
“Oh, Ewan loves that stuff, don’t let him tell you different. Why, there was this one time—”
She stopped him by kissing him. He liked that very much.
“Okay,” she said, “I’ll let it go … for now. So how about a different reward?”
He grinned like a teenager. “Cool!” he said. “We can go upstairs right now—”
“Not that, you sex maniac,” she said. “At least not yet. No: This is something different.” She thought about it a minute, then shrugged. “Related, I guess, but different.”
Now he was the one who cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about a baby, Mark. I’m going to have one, in just about seven months.”
Mark Stiles blinked. Then blinked again. “A baby? Here? Our baby?”
“Sharp as a tack,” she said, laughing. “That’s what I’ve always loved about you.”
“But … I mean, how … okay. Okay.” His grin had never been bigger or more real. “Okay!”
Rebecca’s own smile was full of relief as much as joy. “I’m glad you’re happy. It’s going to be a girl.”
He stopped short. “What? Wait. How can you—”
“I just know,” she said. “It’s a girl. And if I have anything to say about it, she’ll be born exactly on the second anniversary of the Morningstar outbreak in Africa.”
That took him aback a little, too. “Why that day?” he asked. “That’s kind of grim.”
She shook her head and took his hand. She smiled into his eyes, with a look of happiness and hope and completion he had never expected to see and would never forget. “It’s not grim at all,” she said. “It’s the second anniversary of the beginning of the world.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brad Munson is a writer, editor, screenwriter and marketer living in Southern California until they politely ask him to leave, which could be any time now.
