by Tinnean
Wheat had never…never…felt so godawful in his entire life, not even after his worst hangover, the result of trying to pledge a fraternity that hadn’t been worth the misery. He’d started with brandy, segued to bourbon, and concluded with dark rum. After he’d recovered, he’d cleaned up his act, not that anyone had noticed, because he’d wimped out and told everyone he was drinking rum and Coke. Only he and the bartender knew it was strictly Coke. But now Wheat’s head throbbed, his cheek ached, and the reason it took them almost an hour to reach a clearing only about a mile away was mostly because they had to stop a few times so he could vomit. And although he was able to get the face mask out of the way more or less in time—unfortunately, it was more less, and it was a good thing Laurie had those clean masks he kept pulling out of a box in the pharmacy bag he’d secured around the handle of Wheat’s suitcase.
“What else have you got in there?” Wheat asked.
“The masks, protein bars, antibiotics, something else at the bottom, but I’m not sure what because I haven’t had a chance to check it out yet.”
Wheat stared at him. “I swear that thing is similar to a Bag of Holding.” The satchel in question, first introduced in Dungeons & Dragons, held much more than one would deem by its outward appearance, and it seemed the reusable bag might also.
“You play?” Laurie seemed surprised, and Wheat couldn’t help his slight smile, even though he knew his mask hid it.
“I’ve been known to.” Most people would expect the wealthy kid to know more about sex and drugs than about video games.
“Sorry.” Laurie blushed, and it struck Wheat how cute that was. Would he blush as deeply if Wheat pulled down his jeans and spanked his bare bottom? In spite of the way his head throbbed and his stomach roiled, his dick twitched with interest at the thought. “Do you feel well enough to go on?” Laurie asked, totally unaware of where Wheat’s salacious thoughts were going. Dammit. “I don’t want to rush you, but we’d better hurry if we want to beat the rain.”
No, but a glance at the dark clouds that scudded across the sky told him they couldn’t afford to delay. “Yes.”
Laurie got an arm around him again, and they continued on in silence, Wheat keeping his mouth shut in hopes he wouldn’t throw up again and Laurie probably because he needed his breath while supporting Wheat’s weight.
* * * *
By the time they arrived at their destination—Wheat had no idea why Laurie wanted to head in this direction and frankly didn’t care—Wheat was sweating and shivering, and his head continued to pound in spite of the ibuprofen he’d taken.
“Is this it?” he asked. They were in a gap in the brush, surrounded by a thick stand of trees and a mass of shrubs. It was so small it could hardly be deemed a clearing.
“This is it.” Laurie sounded relieved. He gazed around the space.
“What are you looking for?”
“Just trying to get my bearings.” He nodded as if satisfied, unfastened the backpack’s front snap, slid his arms out of the straps, and rested it on the ground. “Sit down and lean against this, okay?”
Wheat started to lower himself to the ground, but his equilibrium was off, and he nearly toppled over.
“Whoa!” Laurie caught him again and helped him down the rest of the way.
“Thanks.” Wheat rested against the pack, closed his eyes, and bit back a groan.
“Is your head still hurting?”
He breathed shallowly and started to nod, but his stomach warned him that wouldn’t be a smart idea. “Like a son of a bitch,” he said through gritted teeth. “That’s what I get for knocking it against the handle of the Rolls.”
Laurie shook out another couple of ibuprofen and handed them to him. “Take these.”
“Thanks.” He swallowed them and gratefully accepted the stainless steel water bottle Laurie offered him.
“My pleasure. Stay here a minute, okay? I’ll be right back.”
“Sure. I’m not going anywhere.” He wasn’t sure if Laurie heard him or not, but Laurie grinned at him and winked.
He glanced up at the sky, but this time Wheat didn’t think it was to check the weather. He paced off a number of steps before he stopped in front of the wall of shrubs and peered into it. He reached for a branch and tugged it aside. “This is it! Hang tight. And don’t fall asleep.”
He disappeared into the underbrush before Wheat could assure him he wasn’t about to do something so stupid.
He tipped his head back and stared at the darkening sky for a moment, then closed his eyes. After that long walk, he just needed a breather. He wasn’t going to fall asleep.
* * * *
“Wheat? Wheat!”
For a second, Wheat was confused, but then he recognized Laurie’s voice. Laurie sounded worried. About him? That was nice.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. I told you not to fall asleep.”
“I didn’t.”
Laurie made a scoffing sound.
“I didn’t mean to. How long were you gone?” Wheat noticed Laurie no longer had a sweat jacket tied around his waist, although the knife was still in his belt.
“About fifteen minutes.”
“So no harm done.”
“We can hope. At least your brains aren’t spilling out of your head.”
“I’m okay.” A fat raindrop fell on his face mask, right onto his nose. “Ugh.”
“Shit. Come on, we’ve got to get inside before we wash away.” Laurie helped Wheat to his feet, then hooked an arm through the straps of the backpack and hoisted it up onto a shoulder.
Wheat gave a quick look around. “Where’s the rest of our stuff?”
“I got it into the bunker while you played Sleeping Beauty.”
“I’d blow a raspberry at you, but I’m too refined,” he said in his snootiest tone.
“Sure you are.” Laurie lightly ran his fingers along Wheat’s side, and he couldn’t prevent an elegant snort of laughter. “You like that?”
“Yes.” He also liked that Laurie didn’t tickle him so hard he wound up laughing until he fell down. Usually he wouldn’t be bothered by that, but with this damned headache…
“My ex didn’t.”
“Chacun à son goût.”
“Huh? Oh, right. Different strokes.” He held aside the branches of the shrubs, and Wheat was able to get past them. It was like walking into a tunnel. He could hear the rain pattering in earnest on the leaves of the trees that shielded them.
“How far is it?” he asked.
“Here we are.”
“We are?” It had taken less than a dozen steps, and now they stood before a cave-like opening in a small hillside that had been concealed by the shrubs. “I had no idea this was here.”
“That’s the point. The man who built it didn’t want anyone to know.”
“He succeeded.”
“Yeah. Watch your head. The last thing you want to do is whack it again.”
“This is true.” He ducked and entered a small space supported by beams and posts and lit by a couple of oil lanterns. “This isn’t very big. I don’t think there’s enough room for the two of us without us getting…cozy.” And Wheat liked that idea. Once his head stopped giving him fits, he’d like the idea even more.
“Oh…uh…Actually, this isn’t the main space. Can you stay steady for a second?”
“Sure.”
But apparently Laurie didn’t believe him. He waited to be sure Wheat wasn’t going to topple over onto his face.
“Okay, fine.” Wheat leaned up against one of the posts.
Laurie laughed softly and shook his head.
“Laurie…If we’re in a sealed-off space like this, won’t we run out of oxygen? How will we be able to breathe?”
“The man who built this was a doomsday prepper. He knew what he was doing, and he put concealed air vents around the hill. Trust me. We’ll be okay.” Laurie smiled at him, then turned and pulled and tugged at something Wheat hadn’t notic
ed.
“What are you doing?”
“Closing the door,” Laurie said. “I told you the man who built this knew what he was doing. He did an amazing job camouflaging it.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Hmm? Oh, no.”
“But you didn’t seem to have a hard time finding it. In fact I’d swear you made a bee line for this place.”
The light the lanterns cast was enough for Wheat to see the blush that rose above the mask that covered most of Laurie’s cheeks. “It’s a knack. Anyway, you can’t tell from in here, but the outer side of the door has moss and grass growing out of it. It looks like part of the hill, and once I have it shut, it’ll be pretty much impossible to tell it’s a door.” He lowered a heavy wooden bar to secure it, then turned and blew out a breath.
“I didn’t expect that,” Wheat said.
“Neither did I. My ex-boyfriend was the prepper’s son, and he kept it in pretty good condition kind of as a way to honor his pop.”
“That was nice of him.”
“Yeah. He was a nice guy.”
“Just not the right one for you?”
“It was more I wasn’t the right one for him.” Laurie looked so sad it almost broke Wheat’s heart.
Was Laurie still in love with the man? Wheat wasn’t going to ask—it wasn’t his business, and if Laurie was, Wheat wasn’t sure he wanted to know—but he still found himself asking, “Have you heard from him since all this happened?”
“I tried calling him, but all I got was his voicemail. He always picks up, so I—” He shook his head.
Would it be better to think your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—was dead or that he just didn’t want to talk to you? Wheat decided suggesting something like that was too cold, so he didn’t.
Laurie took his arm. “Come this way.” He opened another door Wheat hadn’t expected and led him forward into a large, open space. “Welcome home.”
Wheat gazed around, surprised. Oh, not that the area was unfurnished—that only made sense—but that it was so much larger than he’d expected, especially considering how small the outer space was. This was about twenty by twenty, illuminated by a number of oil lanterns hanging from ceiling beams. Laurie must have lit them after he’d found the bunker. Wooden planks covered the floor and were probably there to keep any damp of the soil at bay. The walls were lined with shelves stocked with boxes of nonperishable food, while in one corner were a couple of chests of some sort. Other than that, the entire area was bare.
“How…how far underground are we?”
“Not far. I think Lync’s pop just dug into this hill. You’re not claustrophobic, are you?”
“No.” Oh God, he hoped not. “Er…you said something about air vents?”
“Yeah. I spotted them in the ceiling.” He pointed them out. “We’ll be okay.”
From your mouth to God’s ears.
“There’s some blowup mattresses on the shelves,” Laurie said. “So we won’t have to share this.” He patted the sleeping bag fastened to the bottom of the backpack.
Wheat wouldn’t have minded sharing it, but after what Laurie had said about his former boyfriend, Wheat decided it would be better to wait until his head didn’t feel as if it was touch and go whether his brains stayed in his skull before he made a move.
“I’m not sure what else we’ll find here,” Laurie went on. “I didn’t want to explore too much while you were out there. I just lit the lanterns, took a quick leak and a peek, and then brought in your suitcase.”
“Wait, are you saying this bunker has a bathroom?”
“Yep.” Laurie pointed to the far corner where an enclosed space had been concealed in the shadows.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For getting me out of the Rolls, for bringing me here with you, for taking care of me.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“Perhaps not, but you’d have arrived here much sooner than you had if it weren’t for me.”
“Wheat, it really isn’t a problem. It’s been a scary day, and I appreciate the company.” He touched Wheat’s shoulder, then went to a shelf and pulled down something that was rolled into a compact circle. “It’s one of the blowup mattresses,” he told Wheat as he unrolled it.
Wheat groaned. “Please don’t tell me we actually have to blow it up.” The thought of sitting there puffing into it made his eyes cross.
“No, there’s a manual pump. This shouldn’t take long.”
“Thank God for small favors.” It would still probably take more energy than Wheat had at the moment, but it was something. He watched as Laurie connected the pump to the stem on the mattress and began working to get air into it. And Laurie was right. It didn’t take too long.
“Here. You lay down on this one. After I get the other one blown up, you can switch over until I put the sheets on yours.”
“I can do that, but you said something about taking a leak?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you excuse me if I go to relieve myself?”
“You won’t fall in, will you?”
“I’ll try not to,” he said dryly.
“Good.”
And even though Wheat couldn’t see it, he knew Laurie smiled at him.
“When I get back, I’ll help you make up the beds.”
Laurie made a noncommittal sound, and Wheat had a feeling he’d have to do a little arm-twisting. But he didn’t want Laurie to view him as a rich parasite. Well, he’d convince Laurie otherwise when he was finished in the bathroom.
“You’d better take a lantern. We’ve got no electricity,” Laurie reminded him.
“I noticed that.” Wheat reached for one from a hook in the ceiling beam and walked to the bathroom. He held up the lantern and looked around. In spite of the room’s small size, it contained everything a normal bathroom would have: a toilet unlike any he’d seen before, a sink, and a shower. The entire room was tiled, which was a good thing, since there wasn’t a separate shower stall. And to make shaving easier, a mirror hung above the sink.
As it turned out, there was also a hook on the door—whoever had prepared this bunker had done a thorough job—and Wheat hung up the lantern. He peed, took a minute to figure out how the toilet flushed, then tucked himself away. He pulled down his face mask and studied his image in the mirror while he washed his hands. The trek through the woods had taken a lot out of him, and he looked exhausted. He’d also need a shave before too long—he might be fair, but he still grew a decent beard.
He turned off the water, only then realizing there wasn’t a towel. “Great.” He tugged out a shirt tail and dried his hands on it. “Laurie is going to think I’m a slob.” He shook his head, regretting it when his stomach twisted. “Down, boy,” he muttered and held his breath, relieved when after a minute, his stomach settled down. “Okay. I’ll have to ask if Laurie found any towels.”
He replaced the face mask, unhooked the lantern, and returned to the main space. Laurie must have taken the time to set up a table and two chairs off to the side, and now he had the second mattress ready to blow up, although he was looking down at something in his hand and frowning.
“Laurie, we don’t have a—” Shit. He’d startled the man so badly he’d actually jumped and dropped his phone.
Chapter 10
Laurie watched as Wheat walked to the bathroom. It was a tiny room, which he knew, since as he’d told his companion, he’d taken the time to use the facilities before he’d rushed back to get Wheat, but Laurie guessed it was as big as it needed to be. He hoped Wheat had no trouble using the composting toilet.
With Wheat’s back to him, Laurie was able to take a minute to admire the sleek lines of that body and the butt that was to die for. A man like that would have been so far out of his league before this apocalypse, but now…
Did he stand a chance?
While he imagined what it might be like to be Wheat Dupuis’s boyfriend, he took the op
portunity to set up a card table he’d found folded in a corner and placed folding chairs beside it. The chairs had been hanging on the wall above the table, a really smart use of conserving space. He’d untied the sweat jacket from around his waist earlier, and now he draped it over the back of one of the chairs, then carefully removed the carving knife from his belt and set it on the table.
All righty, now. He’d promised Wheat dinner, such as it was, so he fished out the bottles of water and a few boxes of protein bars from the pharmacy bag. It probably would have been a better idea for Rod to take them out of their boxes; he would have been able to get more into the bag. Could that have been another sign of his confusion, of him starting to show symptoms of the disease? Or could there just not have been enough time?
“Ow! Dammit.” He’d jammed his fingers on something at the bottom of the cloth bag, too solid to be a box of protein bars. He pulled out another box. On the front of it was the image of a radio that looked just like the one in the breakroom at the pharmacy.
Maybe Rod wasn’t as confused as Laurie thought.
He placed the box on the table, and went back to the second mattress, opening it up and spreading it out on the floor. They were full-sized, and he and Wheat would probably have to lie cross-wise on them so their feet wouldn’t hang off the edge. It would be sweet if he could place the two together and make one bed, but Wheat wasn’t feeling well. How long did a concussion last?
To the Internet! Laurie might not know a lot of stuff off the top of his head, but he knew how to find out about it. He took his phone from his pocket, turned it on, and thumbed the Internet app.
Sorry, there’s no connection. Try again!
He frowned at the screen. Damned perky message. Okay, he would.
Sorry, there’s no connection. Try again!
He rebooted his phone. That usually did the trick.
Sorry, there’s no connection. Try again!
What the actual fuck? Abruptly, his mouth went dry, and his hands began to shake so hard he was afraid he’d drop his phone. He’d totally forgotten: without people seeing they worked properly, the cell towers could be affected by what had happened.
