“So, how do things work around here?” Rebel asked. “Who lives where in the main house?” She was given a tour of the house prior to lunch, but she was still confused about where everyone lived.
“Rachel and I live here and sleep in the master bedroom,” Adam answered from down the table.
“They’re married,” Phoebe cut in, “so the rest of us decided to be nice and let them have the best room.”
Adam laughed and continued, “Yes. And there are three bedrooms total in the main house. Phoebe and Josie share a room, and Sebastian has the other bedroom.”
“There’s also an office downstairs, right there in a hallway off the kitchen. That’s where the radio is, and supplies and stuff,” Rachel added.
“And Trevor lives in the apartment. So where does Christian live?” Rebel asked.
“I live on the tour bus,” he answered. “I like the master bedroom there.”
“As you should,” Trevor responded. “You’re sleepin’ in Charlie Hanson’s bed.”
“It’s better than Lincon’s bed,” Christian quipped.
Rachel laughed.
“Well, that’s great,” Rebel answered honestly. “It sounds like you’ve all settled in here and started over. Everyone has their place.”
“Yes,” Trevor said. “And there’s always room for more.”
“Yes, that’s really important for you to know,” Rachel said earnestly. “We’re all really hoping that you and Justin will choose to stay and move in here with us. There’s plenty of space for the two of you. If you don’t want to live right here on the farm, we’d be happy to help you clear out a nearby house that you could live in instead.”
“Well, um…Justin and I had planned on visiting and returning to Carmel.”
Trevor’s hand tightened on her thigh. She turned her head and took in his hard stare, the frown on his lips. Shoot.
“I go where you go,” he said. “We’re a team. If you stay here, then I stay. If you go back to Carmel, then I’m coming, too.”
Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. In front of everyone. She glanced around and noted that his friends seemed just as surprised as she was.
“Well,” Adam coughed. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. You and Justin can decide if you’re staying or not when he recovers,” Adam said. “Hopefully you can at least stay long enough to get to know us, give us a chance to convince you to stay so you can make an informed decision.”
“Um, yeah…” Rebel answered absently. Her mind was filled with the bombshell Trevor had dropped. He’d latched on to the idea that he could follow them to Carmel like a crab refusing to let go of a shell. Normally she’d be terrified, her mind filled with all the nopes, planning out her break-up speech. “It’s not you, it’s me.” But, weirdly, she discovered there was warmth in her chest. A smile on the corners of her mouth. She actually felt closer to him and loved (loved?) the idea that he wanted so desperately to stay by her side. It was actually very cute. This rough man, with all the tats, the beard and those blue eyes, leaning next to her, wanting her.
Of course she still didn’t trust the longevity of this. This was all still short term, hot and heavy right now, and in a couple of months he’d meet someone new. There were just so many things that could go wrong. He was wonderful now, but he would disappoint her later. This was inevitable.
“Hey, Rebel?” Rachel asked, breaking through her thoughts. “What did you and Justin do in Carmel to set up your life there? Do you have any tips for us? Things we aren’t thinking of? Tricks you’re using that we aren’t?”
“Uh…” she floundered.
Do?
How about nothing?
Compared to this group, she and Justin had been slugs. Well, she’d been a slug, not Justin. He’d always kept busy. She was the one who’d zoned out. Checked out of life. She’d been drifting, living without purpose for the last two months. Hiding in a mansion without a clue as to how to give up the past and move forward.
She used to be a triple threat: singer, dancer, and actor. She’d attended Juilliard, and starred on Broadway as Annie. She’d always worked hard at her craft. While other people slept, or partied, or vacationed…she worked. She’d been amongst the best at what she did, but what she did didn’t matter anymore. It was obsolete. Hollywood and Broadway were gone.
After Rome fell, the artists, actors, architects…they’d all fallen by the wayside too during the Dark Ages, their numbers decreased, their talents unneeded and forgotten because people in that part of the world were more concerned with survival than creativity. She figured that was her now, in that marginalized sector of unneeded skills, filled to the brim with useless knowledge and in need of a massive reeducation.
“Justin scouted, scavenged, set things up, planned, fixed things,” she answered. “I don’t know, he was always busy and I, um…well, I read books.” Her voice trailed off. Every romance book she could get her hands on. She’d read them all. She’d even found a box of old Harlequins in the attic of the house in Carmel. That had been a treasure trove. Books got her through the dark days.
“Oh, really?” Rachel brightened. “I like to read, too. I’ve been reading tons of non-fiction lately and trying to learn how to survive like it’s the eighteen-hundreds again. Want to see my library after we eat? I have a lot of fiction in there, too. There might be something you like.”
“A library? You’ve got a library here?”
“Well, I’m starting one. I’ve got bookshelves so far in our bedroom, in the front room, and in the office. There’s no internet anymore, so I’ve tried to collect a lot of books, but we really need a lot more. I’ll show you.”
“Speaking of no internet,” Christian said. “I think we should all observe a moment of silence for the death of the internet—” There was a general buzz of agreement around the table at his words.
“And cell phones,” Rachel interrupted. “I miss cell phones, too.”
Everyone murmured their agreement. Christian held out his hand for Phoebe and took Josie’s hand, too. Trevor smiled at Rebel in encouragement and took her hand. “We always do this,” he said, “talking about something we miss.”
Rachel held her other hand. Adam held Rachel’s. They all bowed their heads for a moment, until Christian proclaimed, “Amen,” and they all laughed and started standing, signaling the end of lunch.
And then they heard a knock on the front door.
Chapter Eleven
The room went quiet.
“Well, that’s not something you hear every day,” Adam remarked into the silence. “Everyone we know who is still alive is pretty much right here, and it’s not like new people would be bold enough to just walk up to the front door and knock.”
A fist pounded on the door again, a muffled sound from the front of the house.
“Who is it?” Josie asked, wide-eyed. “Who’s knocking on the door?”
“A ghost,” Christian answered with a straight face. Phoebe elbowed him.
Trevor snorted and stood up. “I’ll get it,” he announced. “It’s just Sebastian.”
“Is it really a ghost? Phoebe, is it? Is it?”
Trevor shook his head as he rounded the corner to the kitchen. He cut through the front living room, strode across the tiled entryway and opened the front door. Which wasn’t locked.
“What the hell—” Trevor started, ready to tear Sebastian a new one for knocking when the damn door wasn’t even locked, when he saw something unbelievable.
Something he hadn’t seen in over three months. Not since the end of the world.
He stood there slack-jawed because, what the fuck?
Three young women were on the front porch, staring at him with open mouths.
“Holy shit, he’s so handsome,” the tallest one said with awe-tinged wonder, lowering her shotgun. He met her gaze. Her cheeks flushed. She looked him up and down, hunger in her eyes.
“A man?” one of them squeaked.
“Can I touch you?” the oth
er one breathed.
All three of them were armed to the teeth but seemed more distracted than ready to fight, so Trevor relaxed a bit and decided to go with the flow. “No,” he growled. “I’m not a specimen.”
“Darn it,” the first one pouted.
His lips twitched.
The second one, a woman with large hazel-green eyes, tan skin and wavy brown hair, lowered her gun too and shook her head, like she was trying to clear her mind. “Sorry, it’s just that we haven’t seen another man alive since—”
“Trevor!” a familiar voice said from behind him. Rebel stepped into the entryway. “Are you talking to me? I thought I heard—” She stopped at his side and looked out the front door. “What the hell?” she exclaimed.
The three women turned their heads to scrutinize Rebel. She leaned in and slid her arms around his waist. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in tighter.
This, he could get used to.
“Damn it, he’s taken,” one of them said.
“He’s mine,” Rebel declared. “You bitches better stay away.”
He snorted. “I’m yours?” He grinned down at her.
“At this moment you’re mine and no one else touches you but me,” she declared with fierce determination.
This was fine with him.
“Rebel Case?” the first woman said, her voice cracking.
Rebel turned her head. Trevor had a sudden feeling of pity for her, understanding in that moment what it must feel like to be “Rebel Case.” It was true. Each time she met anyone new, they would always know who she was, who she used to be, and have a preconceived notion of Rebel Case the movie star.
Rebel let go of his waist and stepped forward. He was surprised to hear her emotional response. “Krissy? Is that you?”
“It’s me,” said the tall woman with tears clogging her throat. “I’ve lost some weight and I dyed my hair black last week because I was bored as hell and needed a change, but yeah, it’s me.” She reached out a trembling hand. “Holy shit, Rebel, I can’t believe you survived.”
“I can’t believe I did either.” Rebel’s voice cracked. “I can’t believe it’s you. Out of all the people…”
Rebel stepped out onto the porch and threw her arms around the taller woman. They were hugging now and crying.
“I can’t believe this,” the third female said. She was tall and fit-looking, with dark skin and flashing black eyes. “What are the chances of that happening? I mean, California had almost forty million people living here, and most of the population dies except Rebel Case and her cousin? How can two survivors even know each other, let alone be related?”
Trevor jerked his head around. “Cousin?”
“Yeah. Krissy already boasted a million times that her cousin was Rebel Case, the movie star.”
“And I never believed it,” the other woman said. “Every time she told that story, I thought she was making that shit up.”
“Well, I was telling the truth, wasn’t I? Now you know. Rebel, these are my new friends, Kati Pearce and Tiana Lewis.”
The women turned toward each other, shook hands, and started chatting. Trevor stepped over the threshold and quietly shut the door behind him, trying to give Rebel a bit of privacy with her cousin before everyone else found out about the new arrivals.
“This is Trevor Mason, my boyfriend.” Rebel told them.
He smiled broadly after this introduction. There was more shaking of hands. They put away their weapons. Trevor was happy to see the situation had decreased to DEFCON 5.
“Come inside with us. There are more survivors to meet,” Rebel urged.
“More than you two?” Kati gasped. She pointed a finger at Trevor. “I thought he was the guy on the radio. And wait, do you mean there are more men here? Like him?”
“Like me?” Trevor asked. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I mean handsome and, well…” She swept a hand up and down… “you know. And also, are they all young? And are there—”
“Brown men, are there men of color here?” Tiana broke in.
Trevor’s brow furrowed. “Uh, well there’s Adam, the guy who broadcasts on the radio every day, his last name is Sanchez. Christian is Armenian, and Justin is African American—”
Tiana grinned and gestured at the door. “Let’s go meet them.”
“Wait, wait,” Trevor urged.
“What’s wrong,” Krissy asked. “It sounds like you have three other men. One for each of us. See…” She pierced the other women with a hard stare, “I told you this place would have enough people so that there might be men for us to pair off with.”
“One for each of us,” Tiana exclaimed. “We’ll each have our own man. Girl,” she said to Kati. “Did you hear that? We’ll each have our own man.” They held each other’s hands and squealed.
Trevor shook his head.
“You guys, wait,” Rebel said. “What Trevor was trying to say is that one of those men is taken.”
“Huh?” Tiana’s shoulders slumped. “Taken? Which one? By who?”
“There are two more women in their group.”
“Dammit,” Krissy said.
“Adam is married to Rachel,” Trevor explained.
“Married? A married couple survived the apocalypse? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“No, they met and fell in love afterwards and recently got married. She’s pregnant too,” Rebel said.
“Oh, oh okay. Wow, that’s romantic. And she’s going to have a baby? Well, shit, that’s wonderful, and he’s definitely taken. So that leaves two more men, right?” Kati said.
“I’m not so sure,” Rebel explained. “I think there’s something there between Sebastian and Phoebe, and the last guy, Christian, he’s in deep mourning.”
“Well, everyone lost someone in the apocalypse,” Krissy snapped. “He’s not exactly a special snowflake because he lost someone.”
Trevor clenched his fists, took a deep breath and explained, “He lost his wife and two small children, and his wife was eight months pregnant with their third child when she died. She screamed and bled out in the hallway of a hospital and there was no one to help her. He buried all three of them himself in their backyard. I found him on the front porch of his house, with a gun in his hand contemplating how to end himself.”
Everyone was quiet for a moment.
Kati coughed. “Well, sounds like there aren’t any men for us after all.”
“That fucking sucks,” Tiana gritted. “This whole world sucks.”
Trevor felt for them. He’d lived like that at first, too, wondering if he’d be spending the rest of his life jacking off, alone. Living on a planet with billions of people and being single when you wished you weren’t was hard enough, but having that option of meeting someone taken away from you, it played with your mind. It was something that could pull the rug out from under you and suck you into a dark place of no hope.
He’d been there. And now—he glanced at Rebel—he had hope.
“You still need to come in with us,” Rebel coaxed. “There are three men, two women and a little girl in there. Survivors, other survivors, and survivors need to stick together.”
He smiled hearing Rebel use Rachel’s favorite line.
“A girl?” Kati squealed. “They have a little girl with them? A child survived?”
“Yes,” Rebel answered. “She’s seven years old.”
“What color is she?” Kati asked.
“What does it matter?” Trevor challenged. Why did these woman keep asking about the color of a person’s skin? “She’s a girl, that’s all you need to know.”
Kati turned toward him. “It matters because I made a vow to myself that since the world ended and now we’re starting over, there’s no way in hell I’m going to accept things being how they used to be. No fucking way do white people get to rule everything and people of color get shit again. White men don’t get to automatically be the leaders. Women get to be treated equal. And LGBT
Q people, they don’t get last place in the line again either. Enough of that crap. I’m not living with a bunch of white men who think they’re in charge. If your group is all white and proud of it, too, with the men thinking they rule the roost, I’m like, thanks but no thanks and I’ll be movin’ on. I’m telling you, I’d rather live alone.”
They were quiet for a moment, chewing on what Kati had said.
“The little girl, her name is Josie and I think she’s half African American,” Rebel offered. “And as far as I can tell, everyone treats everyone else here equally. No racism or sexism. I would’ve left immediately if I’d sensed any of that.”
There were tears in Kati’s eyes. She stepped forward, towards the door. “Okay,” she swallowed. “Okay then, let’s give this a try.”
Chapter Twelve
Rebel was worried about introducing the new women to the already established group of survivors on the farm, but it ended up being a nonevent.
Trevor shrugged. “Those women are a handful, but believe me, the others are nothing but excited to see them.”
“Are you sure?” Rebel asked. “Krissy’s my cousin, but I’d be the first to say she can be a royal pain in the ass. She’s got a big mouth and she’s not afraid to use it. We’ve gotten into epic fights in the past over her knack for saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong time.”
“Huh,” he grunted. “Still…it’s fine.”
And it was.
The women put their guns away. Krissy pulled out the charm. Kati and Tiana were weeping openly and hugging Josie, thrilled to see a child again. Rachel was weeping too at the sight of more females to bond with. Rebel was glad to see that everyone seemed to get along. The three women weren’t embarrassing her…yet.
“Hey, Rebel.” Rachel pulled her aside, “I was just talking with Adam and Christian. We’re thinking of putting all three women up in the tour bus. That way Christian can still spend the nights with Justin in the RV to keep an eye on him. And you can keep staying with Trevor. Do you like that idea? Does it sound good to you, too?”
Rebel bit her lip. “I feel guilty letting Christian do that. That should be my responsibility.”
Kill For You Page 13
