He relaxed on his side with his arm bent under his head, then reached out and pulled her down next to him.
Sam was a warm wall of muscle, both soft and hard at the same time. Megan nestled into the crook of his arm and boldly intertwined her legs with his to get comfortable. After all, she’d already wrapped her legs around him in about the most intimate way possible. This was nothing.
His chest rumbled against her cheek when he cleared his throat and spoke. “Tomorrow night we’ll find a better bed.” The thought of being anywhere but in this very spot tore at Megan. “I feel safe sleeping in the car, safer than I’ve felt in a long, long time.” She looked up into his face. “Thank you.”
“How the hell did you survive all this time with no guns, no car, all on your own?”
“Like a rat, scurrying from corner to corner to survive.” She nuzzled against his warmth to chase that distasteful thought away.
“You don’t smell like a rat.” He sniffed her hair loud for effect and she laughed. “Nope, you smell like summer and apples, with a hint of peanut butter.”
The next morning Sam pulled up to the makeshift gate and waited for the guards to walk from the interior fence line to the outer with their guns raised. Megan hunched low in the seat, her heart pounding in her throat.
“What’s your business here?” The younger of the two men demanded.
“Hold on Kyle. Zombies don’t drive cars.” The older man reassured the youth as he walked up to Sam’s window. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re looking to trade. We have some food and need some gas.” Sam kept his cool even with the jumpy twerp on Megan’s side of the car about to explode.
She hoped for everyone’s sake, the guy didn’t faint.
The older gentleman looked at Megan and gave the Suburban a quick scan before he answered. “Kyle if you don’t put that gun down I will see to it you pull latrine duty the next ten rotations.” Then he explained to Sam, “He just joined us a month ago. Came from bad circumstances and is wound a little tight.”
“Aren’t we all?” Sam interjected.
“I’ll let you in, but first I need to tell you the rules. We’re a small, peaceful community. We look out for each other, defend each other and don’t tolerate any nonsense. You understand?”
Sam nodded and stuck his hand out the window. “Name’s Sam.”
The man took Sam’s hand and shook it once. “I’m Argyle. And no jokes about socks, cause you haven’t got one I haven’t heard.”
“No sir. We’re not here to cause trouble.” Sam reached around, pulled an apple from behind his seat, and offered it to the man.
“Is that an apple?” Kyle’s eyes grew as big as saucers and his gun drooped pointing at the ground while he peered through Megan’s window to gawk at the fruit.
Argyle stared at it for a good thirty seconds before he raised his eyes to Sam. “There are little ones in there that need that more than I. Anything you are willing to part with will be divided up first among the children, then the adults.”
Sam put it away. “I understand.”
“That was an apple.” Kyle said again.
Megan couldn’t stop herself. “How long has it been since you’ve seen an apple, Kyle?”
She instantly regretted the question. Tears welled up in his eyes before he turned from her and went to the gate to open it for them. Megan’s heart shattered. If only she’d grabbed every apple off that tree. As it stood, she worried that they only had ten or eleven left.
By the time they pulled through the second fence, a crowd had gathered. The small camp consisted of four RV’s, two cab over campers and a fifth wheel scattered among smaller station wagons and trucks with camper shells. Megan took note, no tents. All the vehicles stood parked in a circle, guarding a dirt expanse in the middle where children played and chickens ran free among them. A large fire pit still smoldered in the center from the fire she’d seen the night before. Grass grew around the tires of each rig, and Megan imagined the ones with the tallest grass had been there quite some time.
Argyle returned to the window. “Pull up and park there next to that truck. Leave your car unlocked, but keep the keys on you.”
“Why would I leave my gear unlocked?” Sam folded his arms, and Megan shrank back in the seat again.
Argyle eyed him and shifted the weight of his gun back over his shoulder. “Because if you go and get yourself killed somehow, it would be a shame to have to knock out the window of a perfectly good shelter. Nobody steals here because we share everything.” He nodded toward a mountain of a man approaching. “Here comes Allan. He sort of runs things around here. Actually, organizes is more the right word. Anyways, he’ll make you comfortable. I’ve got to get back to my post.” He reached in and shook Sam’s hand one more time, then retreated to close up the inner fence again.
Sam parked, then turned to Megan. “Stay close.”
He lifted an eyebrow at her waiting for an answer, and she nodded. Sounded like a great plan to her. They climbed out of the Suburban, and Megan slid into her backpack as Sam hit the door locks.
“That’s not necessary here, friend.” The huge man extended his hand. “Allan.”
“Sam.” Megan joined him on his side of the Suburban, and welcomed his embrace as he wrapped an arm around her in a possessive manner. “This is Megan. We’re here to trade for gas, if possible. You can toss us out if you need to, but the car stays locked.”
Chapter Six
Sam kept one eye on Megan while he helped Argyle chop firewood on the other side of the camp, hating every inch of the dusty expanse between them. If something were to happen, could he get to her in time? Would she run to him or go the other way? Traveling alone was easier, less factors to compromise the situation.
He’d done fine on his own. He always did fine on his own. He’d built the business on his own. Turned that business into a publicly traded commodity worth more than he could have ever imagined, all on his own. Raised his sister on his own. There was strength in being on his own.
Women, champagne, which he never really cared for, caviar, which turned out he loved…it all came so naturally.
Why did “on his own” sound so damn pathetic now?
Then everything was stripped away, and he retreated to the cabin to play mountain man, still in complete control of the situation. Lord knew he had enough supplies to last ‘til the end of the world three times over. But when his sister didn’t show up, he felt his control over the universe slip away. And with each passing day, he lost sight of that universe more and more.
Sam watched Megan brush back a strand of hair carried across her face by a breeze. When she looked up at the child that stood in front of her, Megan’s generous smile mesmerized him even from that distance.
“This wood isn’t going to chop itself.” Argyle shook his head while he stacked his armload on the pile behind them. “What did you do before the end of civilization?” He made conversation while gathering another load of what Sam had already chopped.
Turned out these people were kind, honest folks banded together to survive best they could under the circumstances. They welcomed Sam and Megan, and were willing to trade. Since Sam didn’t have much to offer, they were willing to trade a few days’ worth of chores for the gas he needed. The chopping and stacking of firewood was an ever present need, one which Sam filled willingly, while Megan sliced her apples and passed them out to the children.
“I ran a company in Seattle, how about you?” Sam swung the axe.
“I retired five years ago. Spent my days fishing until one of those walking corpses ate my dog. This is not how I planned to spend my retirement.”
Sam smiled inwardly. He’d never planned on retiring. Too busy planning his next meeting, hostile takeover, or maybe even how to get out of an evening’s social event gracefully, but never retirement. Who had the time? Now he had all the time in the world, no company to run and he still couldn’t manage to see beyond the end of the day, week…meal.
He laughed.
Argyle eyed him.
“Guess none of it means anything anymore.” All Sam wanted now was to find his sister and get Megan safely to Vegas.
“Is that what you think?” Argyle shook his head.
Sam stopped swinging the axe and met his direct gaze.
“If things don’t mean anything anymore, it’s because they don’t mean anything to us anymore. What matters is what we carry with us.” The crusty, old man picked up another stack of wood complaining about young people as he turned his back on Sam and muttered all the way to the woodpile.
Truth was Sam didn’t know what mattered anymore. His sister and now Megan were all he cared about. The rest of the world could get bent. Sam took his frustration out on the log in front of him. Swinging his axe over his head, he brought it down as hard as he could. The smell of wood pulp filled his nostrils and he took a deep breath.
The physical distraction felt good. It reminded him of working out in the small gym he’d had built next to his office. Sam finished chopping the rest of the wood then helped Argyle stack it. By the time the chore was finished, Sam’s clothes dripped in sweat, but he’d accomplished something meaningful, not just fed himself, killed a zombie or made it out of a nest alive. Funny how his new life echoed his old one. Back then, his major concerns were feeding himself, killing off a dying business and getting out of the next red carpet event alive. But, today he’d participated in building something that would be of use to others.
It felt damned good.
“Heads up,” someone shouted behind him. Sam turned just in time to catch a football against his chest. The little boy chasing the ball didn’t seem to care Sam wasn’t part of the game and continued to charge him.
“Why the hell not.” Sam bent down, ducked the boy’s advance and ran for the other side of the camp.
“Get him,” an older boy shouted. Before Sam knew it, every kid in camp was hot on his trail. He dodged a curly headed girl, then weaved around another who squealed in delight. Sam didn’t run for any particular goal line, he just ran in circles letting the children chase him, until he saw Megan. She stood by the fence out of the way, cheering. Cheering for him. Sam headed in her direction with the ball tucked under his arm and a gaggle of kids in tow.
One little boy got him by the leg and held on for dear life, but he kept going. By the time the fourth kid attached himself to Sam’s leg, he was within feet of Megan who was laughing her head off. Trudging forward, all the kids screamed at him to stop amidst their laughter. He reached Megan, and her lips formed a tiny ‘o’ when he grabbed her by the waist. Beautiful lips. He kissed her smiling mouth. But before he got really into it, the children pulled him back and dog piled on top of him until even his view of Megan’s shoes was obliterated.
Though he couldn’t see her, Megan’s laughter echoed through him soothing his hurt. She’s what matters.
****
The way the small camp divided the chores reminded Megan of how she ran her classroom. The chores varied depending on the day of the week. Moreover, everything happened on a rotation, even bathing. Anything the community needed was discussed, voted on, then added to the schedule. All very efficient.
Whoever was interested in bathing went out to the river in a group before dark and took care of what they needed best they could while standing watch for one another. Lucky for Sam, today was the day for the men’s baths, because during his tumble with the kids, the dirt had mixed with his sweat and made mud. Not that she minded.
She thought about the simple kiss he’d given her right before being taken to the ground, and, even now, it made her warm in unexpected places. The memory of his eyes so intent on her even with a gaggle of kids in tow, made her shiver while she stirred the chicken and dumplings. She inhaled deeply and wondered for about the tenth time where they managed to scavenge up the giant sack of flour used in the dumplings. Today the women stayed behind to cook dinner, and tomorrow they would go to the river while the men cooked. Everyone relied on everyone else. So different from what she’d experienced before.
Her previous companions didn’t care what the group wanted. It was all about what the man leading them wanted. No one stood up to Mike, regardless of the fact he made one careless decision after another, including abandoning his turn to stand watch so he and his girlfriend could sneak off for some alone time. That night a corpse made it all the way into their base camp. They all woke up to the screams of a young mother as she wrestled it for her toddler. Both she and the child were bitten before the monster was brought down and consequently left behind.
Megan considered leaving that group more than once, but the idea of being alone frightened her so much, she didn’t dare go…until they tied her up. Yep, that pretty much sold her on the idea of traveling alone. She’d been so lonesome these last months, but any careless moves were her own and not because their fearless leader couldn’t keep it in his pants.
This place ran very different. They intended to be a permanent camp, a place where families helped each other survive day to day and children played when time allowed. Built on trust and kindness, the group bolstered Megan’s sprits.
Once dinner was over, people gathered around the campfire to discuss the day, what had been accomplished, what would be done the next day and any problems that may have arisen. Megan sat quietly next to Sam on a log listening to the conversations around her. Every so often someone in the group stared at them, out of curiosity she presumed, and Megan tried to smile back to let them know she and Sam were on the up and up.
“This is Sam and Megan.” Allan introduced them. “They are the ones who brought the apples today, and they need gas. I told them we would share our gas in trade for chores like we’ve done in the past for other travelers.” Murmurs floated through the crowd. Megan looked around nervously trying to gauge their reaction.
“I told you before that it’s a bad idea to give away the gas. What if we need to move at some point?” A robust, bald man spoke up.
“And go where? I told you this camp is not moving, Mark. We’re dug in and that’s where our strength comes from. The more we fortify the camp the more permanent it becomes. You’re welcome to keep your gas and leave when you feel the need. But in general, the gas here is a commodity we can trade for things we can use. My RV alone held sixty gallons. To drive where? I’d rather have the apples for them.” Allan pointed to two small children curled up on one woman’s lap, and again Megan wished she had picked all the apples off that tree instead of leaving them for the next refugee.
Despite the fire, Megan shivered and rubbed her arms to ward off a chill. Without a word, Sam wrapped his arm around her lending his body heat while he listened. Regardless of what they decided, Megan was grateful for his presence.
“I’m not going anywhere. I just like to have options.” The man turned to Sam. “Nothing personal.”
“I understand.” Sam nodded.
“Where did you get so many nice apples? They weren’t even bruised.” The woman holding the two little ones directed her question at Megan.
“An apple tree about four hours north of here, but…” Megan shook her head unable to describe what had transpired between the apple tree and finding this camp.
“Problem being, there’s an infested town between here and there.” Sam finished for her.
The woman squeezed her children a little closer. “Thank you for sharing what you had.”
Megan nodded.
Sam changed the subject. “Do these fences keep them out?” He pointed around the camp.
“The corpses seem to be opportunistic feeders, not hunters, so we haven’t had to find out. Seems to me, they stay close to where they turned, unless they are drawn away following something that grabbed their attention.” Allan sat down next to his family as he spoke.
“I’ve noticed the same thing.” Sam agreed with Allan’s summation.
“But, the fences will keep us from being surprised.” Allen took one of the little girls from
the woman and plopped her on his lap.
“By anyone,” Sam added.
Megan stared into the fire, not really listening to the arrangements they made for the gas, just grateful for the warmth she found under Sam’s arm. It was hard to believe she’d only known him a couple of days. Saying goodbye once they got to Vegas was going to be rough. Every moment she spent encompassed by his strength only made it that much harder to accept.
Megan adjusted the ridiculously large sports watch for about the hundredth time that day making sure the scar remained concealed. She was probably the only person on the planet who knew what time it was, the date, and their exact global position. The GPS part of the watch still worked. Apparently, all the satellites had not fallen from the sky just yet, because she’d been able to plug in coordinates from a map and had been following them to the Hoover Dam. Hopefully, there would be signs posted to guide them from there. Sam seemed confident in being able to find it.
She glanced up at his strong profile highlighted by the flickering campfire. He needed a shave, but Megan knew just how soft the blond hair growing along the edge of his chin was. She shivered at the memory of those whiskers brushing her cheek. His arm tightened around her and she looked away.
Megan reminded herself not to become too fond of him. After all, he wasn’t exactly accompanying her because he couldn’t live without her. He was going to Vegas to look for his sister. Besides, any feelings Megan might develop toward Sam couldn’t possibly amount to anything. The scar on her arm would make sure of that. A wave of guilt washed over her.
She should tell him. Hiding the scar was the same as lying, and Megan had no use for liars. But, she couldn’t bring herself to say the words. She’d been shot at enough for one lifetime by people who didn’t care to listen. Although Megan didn’t believe for a second Sam would shoot her, he might decide to leave her there in camp. And that just didn’t work for her. She had to get to Vegas. It wasn’t only about Sam…or her for that matter. It was about the survival of humankind. Maybe, given the chance, she could undo this mess.
Only Love Survives (Love and Zombies) Page 6
