She cocked her head, scanning his face. How did he know that? And what was it about him that was so familiar?
Then it hit her. With all the force of a ten-ton truck.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re…you’re…”
The guy bowed low. “Chris Griffin. One of the last men on Earth.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Hey, geekazoid, what are you doing?”
Chris reluctantly pulled off his VR goggles at the sound of his older brother’s voice. When Trey plopped down uninvited on the couch beside him and punched him in the arm, he grunted, “What does it look like, shit for brains?”
“You know, too many video games will make you sterile,” Trey volunteered. “I read that once somewhere.”
“You read somewhere that you won the Space Station 13 lotto, too,” Chris retorted. “And that you’ll die if you don’t forward that note to ten of your friends.”
“Oh, you’re such the clever little man. If you’re so clever, though, why don’t you have a date to night like I do?”
“Because that stuff isn’t important to me. Not right now at least. I’ve got better things to do.”
Trey could barely hide his mirth. “Oh? Did your Knights of the Living Dead guild just take down Fiddler’s Green?”
“No. I’m using Basketball Dayz now,” Chris snapped. “And just ’cause I use my time to enhance my basketball skills instead of cracking into that Playboy House of Love sim you jacked doesn’t mean I’m some social reject. There are girls in B-Dayz, too. Real girls from our school. Not computer-generated sexpots.”
“Yeah, well, I hate to break it to you, little bro, but you’d have a much higher chance of scoring with a sim star than anyone at our school.”
Sadly, Chris knew Trey was probably right, but he wasn’t about to admit it. The last thing he needed was more teasing from his older brother. He understood the reality: Trey was über popular. Everyone loved him. Trey was the life of the party, and Chris was the dweeby little brother no one ever noticed, including the person he was most desperate to have notice him—Molly Anderson, the most beautiful girl at school. Ever since his family first moved down the street from her, Chris had known she was the girl for him. But she’d turned him down time and again, this year going for that stupid meathead Drew Barry. Chris had no idea what she saw in him. He had a brain the size of an amoeba and even less personality.
But hey, Drew was tall and built and had a flashy smile. And Chris was just a beanpole who couldn’t manage to put on any weight if he tried. If only he’d gotten Trey’s genes, maybe he’d have had a chance.
“Hey…Trey, Chris…will you guys play Barbies with me?” a little voice begged.
Chris looked over to see that his sister Tara had entered the room. Back when she was a baby, his parents had adopted the six-year-old girl from an African country all but wiped out by the resurgent AIDS epidemic. Sometimes he wished they’d traded his brother for the privilege.
“Yeah, right,” Trey said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve got to get ready for my date with Anna Simmons.”
Tara’s face fell, but Chris knew how to fix that. “I’ll play with you, Tara Bara,” he said, pulling on his VR goggles. He didn’t have much else going on. “What address are you at?”
His sister chirped in joy. “Dream house Fifteen, on the Blonde and Beautiful server.” She grabbed her own sim deck. “Thanks, Chris. You’re the best!”
“You just remember that come dessert,” he teased as he activated the sim. “I want your portion of Mom’s banana cream pie.”
“Anything!” Tara promised. Of course, he knew she’d deny it all when it came to actually giving up her sweets, but he didn’t really mind.
Just before putting on his goggles he glanced out the window. Molly was there, talking to their neighbor, Mrs. McCormick. The old woman was his favorite person on their block. She was a sweet, cookie-baking, grandma-type who’d been his babysitter when he was younger, and they’d found an unlikely bond over romance novels, of all things. Something Chris could never in a million years admit to Trey. She was always around to listen, even when his parents were late coming home from work, which they usually were. He’d never seen Molly talk to her, though. He wondered if Mrs. McCormick was putting in a good word for him. He hoped so.
After a moment he squinted. Was Mrs. McCormick okay? The older woman swayed then stumbled, and Chris rose to his feet. He turned back to his sister.
“Meet me in the Glow Cat area,” he told her. “I need to make sure everything is okay outside.”
Molly, late for her training session with her father, had been rushing home from a fight with Drew at school—he hated how she had to rush home to train every day instead of spending time with him—when she came across her elderly neighbor hobbling down the street. The woman was coughing so hard that at first Molly was worried she was going to die. She ran up, placed a hand on the old woman’s shoulder and peered into her eyes. “Are you okay, Mrs. McCormick?” she asked.
The old woman grasped her with a bony hand. “I don’t know,” she said, her voice cracking. “I felt fine this morning. But now I can’t seem to stop coughing.” She opened her hand, revealing a tissue clotted with scarlet-flecked phlegm. Molly recoiled. “A few minutes ago I started coughing up blood.”
“We need to get you to a hospital,” Molly said, glancing around for a neighbor. She needed someone with a SmartCar, because it was unlikely they’d make it to a hospital otherwise; the old lady was never going to be able to walk. Making it tougher, unlike everyone else in the universe, Molly didn’t have an iComm. The tech that had replaced the cell phone was yet another modern convenience her dad forbade, and if she used her outdated phone to call home, she doubted he would answer. He never did.
Molly led Mrs. McCormick to the curb and helped her sit down. “I’ll go try to find someone to help.”
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Molly turned to see none other than Chris Griffin approaching. After a brief spasm of discomfort, relief washed over her. Maybe he could get his mom to drive them or something, or just call the hospital. She doubted he’d take this opportunity to make a pass. She prayed he wouldn’t. “Mrs. McCormick’s sick,” she explained. “Do you have an iComm? We need to get her to an ambulance.”
Chris pulled his longish hair back from his ear, revealing the tiny headset. He pressed the silver button at its tip. “Dial 911,” he commanded, then waited. “Hello?” he said. “Yeah, I’m at 23 Mulberry Lane. We need an ambulance.” He listened for a moment. “Yeah, she’s an elderly woman. Name’s Mandy McCormick. She’s coughing up blood.” Another pause. “Okay, thanks. Yeah, we’ll be right here. No, we won’t leave.” He pressed the button again and turned back to Molly. “Okay, they’re sending an ambulance.”
“Just hang in there, Mrs. McCormick,” Molly said, patting the coughing woman on the back. “They’ll come for you in a minute.”
Mrs. McCormick looked up at the two teenagers, appreciation in her watery blue eyes. “Thank you, kids,” she said. “You’re good to help me.” She was overtaken by another wracking cough.
Chris sat down beside her and took her hand in his. “Are you kidding, Mrs. McCormick?” he asked. “You know I’d never let anything happen to you.”
The older woman blushed like a schoolgirl, and Molly couldn’t help but notice. “Such a sweet boy,” she said. She looked up at Molly. “You know, he comes by twice a week after school to visit me.”
“He does?” Molly was surprised.
“Oh, yes. He reads me all my favorite romance books,” the woman explained. While she was smiling at him like he was her own personal savior, Chris was beginning to look uncomfortable. “Of course, we skip over the sexy parts. He’s just a baby after all. Can’t have him reading about blowjobs and boinking.”
Chris’s face turned instant tomato red. “Mrs. McCormick!” he cried, sounding absolutely horrified. Molly didn’t blame him. She was blushing pretty furiously hersel
f. And Chris looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there at that moment. Suddenly she wondered if he’d applied for his LTF yet. Probably not. He did seem really innocent. But then, so was she.
Mrs. McCormick reached out and pinched Chris’s cheek then turned to Molly. “See, this is why we have to skip them,” she confided in a stage whisper that everyone in a ten-block radius could probably pick up. “But don’t worry. I go back and read them after he leaves. They are the best part, you know.” She giggled, prompting another coughing fit.
Chris instantly snapped out of mortified mode and reached over to pat her on the back. “Relax, Mrs. McCormick,” he instructed in a voice so authoritative you’d never know a moment ago he’d been blushing about boinking. “You’re going to laugh yourself sicker.” He handed her a clean tissue he’d pulled from his pants pocket. She blew her nose. No blood this time, at least.
Mrs. McCormick turned to Molly. “You’re a very lucky girl,” she said.
And here Molly had thought she wasn’t capable of blushing more than she already had been. “Oh, we’re not…I mean, we’re just friends.” She didn’t want to say even that was pushing it.
Mrs. McCormick was taken by another coughing fit, but when it quieted, she squinted up at Molly. “Maybe for now, dear,” she gasped. “But I have a good sense of these things. My kids call me psychic.”
For a moment Molly wondered if Chris had paid the woman to say that, then she scolded herself for even thinking it. He wasn’t that bad. In fact, despite his unwanted crush, he was kind of sweet. Wasn’t that what Erin was always saying? The way he was caring for his elderly neighbor…well, she couldn’t imagine Drew or any of her other friends doing it.
“Sorry, Mrs. McCormick,” Chris said. “It’ll never happen. Molly’s got a better boyfriend than me.” He said it completely seriously, without sarcasm, and Molly felt her face burn.
“That’s not—” she started.
Before she could finish, an unmarked van careened down the street, seeming to come out of nowhere. It screeched to a stop before them. Two men, each wearing a brown uniform and a respirator, jumped out and ran to Mrs. McCormick.
Chris jumped to his feet. “What are you—?”
“Get out of the way, son,” interrupted one of the men. His respirator made him sound like Darth Vader from those ancient Star Wars movies Erin loved. “You need to get home. We’ll take care of your friend.”
The two grabbed Mrs. McCormick by her arms and dragged her somewhat ruthlessly toward the van. She screamed in protest, surprised, then broke into another coughing fit.
“Stop!” Chris demanded. “Where are you taking her? We called for an ambulance.”
“Yes, we got the report,” said the second masked man, pausing. “We’re taking her in to get treated. Mount Holyoke. She’ll be back in a day or two.”
Molly stared at the men, her brain awhirl with her father’s many conspiracy theories. Instead of reacting, she forced herself to stay calm and catalog the details. The masks. The uniforms. The seal on the van. It looked like a government seal, and there was no way this was a normal ambulance.
“Mount Holyoke? Well, Westview’s not too far away. Can you tell me when and where I can visit her?” Chris asked. Molly had never heard him sound anxious before, but she understood his fears. She also knew Mount Holyoke was in Monroeville, not Westview. Was he testing them? “Or maybe you should tell me your names.”
The two men looked at each other. “Perhaps we should take them, too,” the first said. His voice was amiable. “Just as a precaution.”
The second man turned back to look at them and nodded.
“Take us?” Chris repeated, looking scared. “Take us where?”
“We’re not sick,” Molly added, in case it wasn’t obvious.
“Well, why don’t we just find out for sure,” suggested the second man, still smiling that weird smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Get in the van.”
Get in the van? No effing way. Not with all her father’s fears and stories whirling through her head. And it didn’t take a paranoid nutjob to see the red flags waving in this situation.
Mrs. McCormick broke into another coughing fit. Molly took the opportunity to glance at Chris. He caught her eye, looking as freaked out as she felt. Shit, he mouthed. I don’t trust these guys. Run.
Molly didn’t need a second invitation. She and Chris both took off at the same time, as fast as their legs could carry them. She was surprised they shared an instinct: neither headed to their respective homes.
When she glanced back, Molly saw the brown-suited men had gotten Mrs. McCormick into their van and had turned it around, likely to give chase. “Go through the yards!” she cried, pointing. “They won’t be able to follow.”
Chris hung a sharp right and dove through a neighbor’s yard, dodging clotheslines and wading pools, avoiding a snarling dog. Molly followed, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. What the hell was going on here? Who were those men? Why had they just all but abducted a sick old woman in the middle of the street? Why were they now giving chase to a couple of kids?
More running, less thinking, she reminded herself, picking up her speed to keep pace with Chris. Together they leapt another fence and ran into the woods behind a nearby elementary school dodging trees and stumps and fallen logs. Finally Chris stopped, in a clearing, leaning over, hands on his knees, panting heavily. He looked behind him and then at Molly. “I think we lost them,” he said.
“Yeah.” She plopped down on a stump, sucking in breaths. “But what the hell was that about?”
“I don’t know. But that sure wasn’t a normal ambulance.”
“No. They were government, I think. I saw the seal on their van. They must have intercepted your call. My dad always says the government monitors all transmissions. That’s why I’m not allowed to get an iComm.”
“What do you think they’ll do to Mrs. McCormick?” Chris asked, looking worried. “I don’t want anything to happen to her.”
“You really like her, don’t you?” Molly mused. She couldn’t help adding, “Do you really…read her romances?” Do you really skip over the sex scenes? she wanted to add, but didn’t.
“She used to babysit me and Trey when our parents went away. She’s like my grandmother. I think she’s a bit lonely now. And since she can’t really keep up with all the technology changes—they confuse her—I try to stop in after school a couple times a week. Try to take care of her like she once took care of me. Read to her or what ever. And yes, romances. You probably think that’s weird, but there’s some good stories out there. Action, adventure, history. They’re not all about sex like some people think.” He blushed again. “I actually…enjoy reading them, too.” He paused, then added, “You probably think I’m a complete freak, huh?”
“Actually I was thinking you’re more like a saint,” Molly marveled. She couldn’t imagine any of her friends doing that. Especially not Drew. He’d probably rather commit hara-kiri than spend two minutes with someone over forty. And if he were reading romances, it’d only be for the sex scenes.
Chris blushed. “Thanks,” he said. “It means a lot coming from you.”
He was sweet, she’d give him that. And a real nice guy. But she had a boyfriend. And Chris had to get it through his head that there could never be anything between them.
“Why do you always do that?” she asked, feeling bad about having to break his heart. She reminded herself that it was better in the long run. The sooner he could get over his crush, the sooner he could move on to another girl—one who would appreciate how nice and sweet he was.
He cocked his head in confusion. “Do what?”
“Say things like that. Flatter me.”
“ ’Cause I like you,” he said. He gave an embarrassed little shrug.
She groaned. “Well, can you like me a little less, maybe?” she asked. “Please? At least just keep it to yourself. It can be embarrassing.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I…I didn�
�t realize…” He sounded astonished, shocked that his unrelenting puppy love would bother her if he didn’t mind her continued rejections. “Yeah, sure. I’ll leave you alone.”
He looked so wounded, she felt a moment of remorse. “No, you don’t have to…I mean…” Now it was her turn to stutter. “You’re nice. I like talking to you. I just don’t like you like that. Like a boyfriend. I have Drew.” She realized it sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as Chris.
Chris screwed up his face. “You sure do. And you can keep him.”
Molly found herself laughing, thinking of the fight she and Drew had just had. Of how she’d thought about getting rid of him. “He’s not that bad, you know.”
“Sure. If you say so.”
“Really! He’s a good guy.”
Chris held up his hands. “I believe you. You don’t have to prove it to me.” But he wouldn’t look her in the eye.
Molly found herself a little annoyed. “I mean, I know he’s not the brightest. And sometimes he can be kind of bossy…” She trailed off, realizing what she was saying, how she was defending herself, and for no good reason. “Anyway, he’s cool. I like him. We’re going out. End of story.”
“Okay, then,” Chris replied. “Understood.”
But Molly couldn’t let that be the end of the conversation. “If you want to be…friends, though…I think that would be okay.” It was, wasn’t it? Yes. As long as she wasn’t encouraging him in any way, making him think they’d ever be more.
“Friends,” Chris repeated. “I’d like that.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Molly stared at the man in front of her, hardly able to believe her eyes. Chris Griffin. Her Chris Griffin? Okay, not hers exactly. Not anymore. But still! Of all the apocalypses in all the world, he had walked into hers. What were the odds? What were the chances?
He’d certainly changed since she’d seen him last. It was no wonder she hadn’t recognized him. His once scrawny, gangly body had filled out. He now had broad shoulders and an impressive chest, narrowing to a trim waist. He was…handsome. Hot, even. Chris Griffin had grown up into a hottie. It was almost odder than the zombie she’d just fought.
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