This is the End 2: The Post-Apocalyptic Box Set (9 Book Collection)

by J. Thorn

  “Yep,” he reverted to his one word answers.

  “Aren’t you going to rape me?” I demanded a little put out that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

  “What? Do you want me to rape you?” He asked sounding more appalled than before when I thought he should kill us. Good for him, a single guy at the end of the world with standards. I almost laughed out loud. That concept was about as fantastical as the young virgin.

  Yet, I was here, so….

  “Obviously not, it’s just….” I trailed off, feeling like a total douche for assuming he was as bad as everyone else out there. I cleared my throat, “So how did you guys meet?”

  “Online dating,” he mumbled dryly.

  “Oh, like before? That makes sense then. It’s actually kind of sweet you still have each other through all this craziness.” It was like an ah-ha moment. They were gay.

  “I was kidding,” his eyes snapped up to mine again and flashed with annoyance.

  “I’m not judging you,” I quickly said. “I think it’s great. Seriously!”

  “We’re not gay,” he growled. “We’re brothers.”

  I snorted a laugh and then dissolved into laughter. “Don’t ever try to be a comedian.” I shook my head at him, watching as his irritation grew deeper. “In fact, maybe don’t ever attempt a joke again.”

  He scowled at me for a few more seconds and then finished the dressing on my left hand. Once that was done he motioned for the sleeves of my shirt.

  “I’m wearing a tank top underneath; I can just take this off,” I gestured uselessly with my bandaged hands to my long-sleeve tee. “Uh, do you have a knife? You could just cut it off.”

  “You trust a stranger with a knife?” he asked like I was the most naïve person on earth.

  “You’ve had plenty of opportunity to do what you want to me. I trust a stranger that knows how to take care of open wounds,” I said seriously. And that was true. He was surly, cranky and had zero sense of humor, but he wasn’t trying to hurt me. He was trying to help. And those kinds of people didn’t really exist anymore.

  He pulled out a butterfly knife from his back pocket and went to work cutting my t-shirt off without damaging the tank top underneath. With quick, confident moves, my filthy, bloody shirt was discarded with the rest of the bloody towels and I was left in my black cami; my neon-green demi-cup bra poked out from underneath- in the last big town we were in, Haley and I raided a Victoria’s Secret.

  I watched Hendrix’s eyes flare to life at the sight of so much of my exposed skin. A heat burned in my belly that I did my best to ignore. This was like that game, if we were the last two people on Earth…. Uh, the answer for Hendrix would have been a hell yes, before. But things were not that simple and I really liked to believe there was more to me than a desire to get laid; like surviving a world full of Zombies, for one.

  I kept my elbows tucked against my sides, even though I wasn’t exactly trying to attract his attention. I still didn’t want to detract his attention with my less than smoothly shaven armpits. At least I could confirm that he was officially not gay.

  Hendrix dipped a clean towel into some cold water and started washing away the dried blood on my forearms. I shivered at the contact when the wet towel hit my skin and he paused to look up at me and ask silent permission. I nodded carefully. I wasn’t used to this kind of attention from a boy, not even Quarterback-Chris had been this… gentle. I wasn’t sure what to do with his attention, other than ignore it, since we would be parting ways in just a few hours.

  He seemed to hesitate before nodding down at my jeans. “Uh, maybe we should cut those off too?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine,” I agreed. “They were going in the trash anyway.”

  “Do you have other clothes?” He asked hesitantly.

  “Sure thing. From our shopping spree,” I smiled at him innocently.

  He ignored me. Again. “Alright, I’m going to cut around your thigh, and then I’ll deal with your knees. Do they feel as bad as your palms?”

  “No, actually. I think my jeans protected them to some extent.”

  Hendrix played with the knife in his hand for a minute before setting it down and slipping his fingers into the already ripped hole in my thigh. They were distressed jeans to begin with, but the recent wear and tear had turned simply frayed places into monster-sized holes. He wedged his fingers between my jeans and my thigh and I worked really hard at keeping my breathing even.

  There was the fact that a strange guy had his hands all over my upper thigh, but mostly I didn’t want him to rip away the jeans too quickly and cause my knees any unnecessary pain. I should have known better with him though, he was obviously not the kind of person that did anything irrationally or recklessly.

  Carefully he tugged apart the material until it started ripping up towards my crotch. He coughed suddenly, a little surprised at the direction of the rip, before pulling his hands free and going for the knife again. Now that the rip was bigger, there was enough slack on the material so the knife could slash away without fear of my femoral artery being punctured. He repeated the process with my left leg until I was left with an unflattering pair of daisy dukes.

  Oh, god. The hair.

  I blushed the deepest red at the sight of my unshaven legs. How humiliating!

  Hendrix lifted my leg and stretched it out atop his thighs. The unshaven disaster was even worse at this angle. I winced and dropped my head into my hands.

  Guessing at what my mortification was about, Hendrix offered in an unconvincing voice, “It’s not that bad.”

  “It’s really bad,” I whined, peeking out from behind my fingers.

  A small smile tilted his lips while his eyes stayed intent on the few shards of glass that had embedded in my knees.

  “It could be worse,” he shrugged. “It could be a mustache.”

  “Was that a joke?” I asked, a little surprised by his cavalier attitude.

  He shrugged again. “So what?”

  I giggled helplessly. “So, it was almost funny.”

  His head shot up and I was treated with another scowl. I winked at him and relaxed back into a playful smile. He stared after me for a moment, clearly not knowing what to do with me. Soon enough he turned his attention back to my knees and started working out the shrapnel and then cleaning each cut carefully. When he was finished, and had spent time washing my calves since I clearly couldn’t with my useless and bandaged hands, he wrapped gauze all the way around both of my knees so the bandage wouldn’t slip off the still clotting cuts.

  I slid my final leg off his as soon as the last bandage had been tied. He was up and out of his seat before my foot even landed back on the ground and across the room before I could get out of my chair. Geez, he was a weird one.

  I hobbled, a little self-consciously, over to Haley and crawled up on the counter with her. My jeans had been cut short enough that I was worried about my ass hanging out of them while I stood. Sitting was a much safer option until I could change into the jeans Haley had grabbed earlier. I looked helplessly down at my hair-covered legs and winced all over again.

  I mean, it was the end of the world, and personal hygiene had a checklist of priorities. In reality, clean-shaven legs were low on the list, especially since I’d had to discard my last razor two weeks ago. It had broken in half in my backpack, and the rusty blade was too dangerous to use. I’d been on the lookout for a new one, or even a sharp pocket knife- at this point I would have taken dull scissors- but so far hadn’t found one.

  Besides, up until this exact moment I had been working the unshaven legs- totally owning the look- hoping if we were ever kidnapped the au natural style would work in my favor as a deterrent.

  I still felt like that, so I was a little confused by my self-consciousness right now just because Hendrix didn’t initially come off like a creeper. He still had four brothers that could easily not be as chivalrous. So why wasn’t I flashing around my prickly pear legs? And waving my arms in the air
so everyone got a nice long look at my Eastern Europe styled pits? Good question.

  “Have you been able to hear anything?” I asked Haley in a low voice.

  She looked over at me and then did a double take when she took in the sight of my shorty shorts. “Nice legs, Mama,” she snorted at me. I loved her sense of humor, even when it was at my expense. I easily would have died of depression if it hadn’t been for her refusing to let me mope around aimlessly. Haley found laughter in every situation. She was one of those people that would forever be refreshing to be around. Back when we went to high school, she was easily the most popular girl in our class, only everyone loved her. Especially me. We had been besties since grade school and it was by sheer goodwill of the Universe that we still had each other after everything that had happened.

  “Shut it.” I stuck my tongue out at her and then waved my ridiculously bandaged hands. I couldn’t even wiggle my fingers, but I knew the care was necessary.

  “Yeesh, it’s industrial strength,” she murmured while taking one of my palms into her hands. “But at least it looks like he knew what he was doing. He didn’t happen to have Neosporin, did he?”

  I nodded with excited eyes. “And rubbing alcohol.”

  “Who are these guys?” Haley mumbled, lifting her eyes to the pow-wow happening in the corner.

  “I don’t know, but apparently they don’t even want to rape us,” I whispered not bothering to hide my shock.

  “What? Are they gay?” she gasped.

  “I asked. Turns out no. Apparently they’re brothers.”

  “Huh.”

  “I know.”

  We watched them for a few more minutes while they seemed to argue between themselves. They kept their voices to a whisper, but their hands flew around animatedly. Hendrix seemed to have the most opinions and it seemed like he was most often arguing with the guy who had ordered him around before. Two of the guys with them were clearly younger, their facial hair more splotchy and their muscle definition not quite up to par with their brothers. They also didn’t have a whole lot to say, another indication they were low on the totem pole.

  The final brother was just as tall and muscly as Hendrix, but it was hard to determine his age or how he fit into the chain of command. It seemed like he talked often enough to get his opinion across, but every once in a while he would lay a calming hand on Hendrix’s shoulder as if warning him to settle down. He followed the same dress code as all the others, only his hair was a light brown and his beard an even darker shade. Eventually he was the one to turn his attention back to us, his kind, apologetic eyes offering a certain soft-spoken hope.

  The other brothers followed his gaze and Hendrix let out an exasperated sigh. They made their way over, Hendrix trailing them all, and faced us. They were intimidating, that was for damn sure- even the younger ones in the back. They all stood with their legs apart, their arms crossed. Haley reached out and grabbed my bandaged hand, clasping it tightly in hers but careful not to disturb my wounds. We were ready for their judgment.

  “When’s the last time you’ve had a good night’s sleep?” The leader asked in not an unpleasant tone.

  I bit my lip and glanced at Haley who looked as confused as I felt. Finally, I turned back to the brigade of boys and answered, “Define good night.”

  “When was the last time you slept the entire night through?” he clarified.

  His question met silence. Neither Haley nor I could remember the last time we slept all the way through the night, and probably it hadn’t been since we were both back home living with our parents.

  “That’s what I thought,” the guy nodded his head intuitively. “You can’t stay with us permanently. But you can spend the night,” he explained. “We will give you a full night’s rest before you move on in the morning.”

  We were stunned silent.

  Hendrix spoke up from the back of the group, “Explain the raping thing, Vaughan.”

  A slow smile broke out across Vaughan’s face and now I was made mute from how gorgeous he turned out to be. That wasn’t exactly fair. “Oh, and my little brother would like to assure you that you will not be raped.” He gestured out with his hands and said in a comforting voice, “This happens to be a rape-free zone.”

  “But what if we’ve changed our minds about that?” Haley whispered to me as she stared down at the floor.

  A nervous laugh burst out, but I found myself nodding excitedly. “We’ll take it.” I was smiling now, meeting Vaughan’s eyes. “We’ll leave first thing in the morning, but we will take your offer.”

  “Definitely,” Haley echoed. She hopped down from the counter and then helped me down since I couldn’t use my hands. Once we were settled on the ground she gestured between me and her in a friendly way. “Oh and I’m Haley and this is Reagan,” she announced to the dispersing room.

  Her introduction was met with a few half-hearted head nods. It seemed the brothers didn’t really care who we were and probably it didn’t matter. We would be leaving first thing in the morning, so why make pleasantries? It wasn’t like we’d become pen pals or anything.

  “Nelson, get Page. She’ll be safe from these ones,” Vaughan ordered before turning back to us. He took three steps forward until we were face to face and his expression turned serious. “I’m Vaughan; you’ve met Hendrix and Nelson. My other two brothers are Harrison and King. Nelson went to get our sister, Page. Best you stay away from her.” He warned, his eyes flashing with a striking protectiveness. “If anything happens to my little sister, all responsible parties will suffer before they die excruciating deaths, got that?”

  “Sure thing, Boss,” Haley bravely patted his shoulder before walking off and asking either Harrison or King where we’d be staying tonight.

  I looked up at Vaughan, whose eyes were a deep blue, almost navy. “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “I don’t believe all of humanity is lost,” he whispered back somberly.

  “Good for you,” I smirked and then walked off to find Haley. A thought struck me and I turned around and asked, “Stevie Ray?”

  Vaughan’s face broke out in that breath-taking smile again and he nodded. “My dad was a guitar teacher. He named us all after the greats.”

  I laughed at that. Stevie Ray Vaughan was an iconic guitarist and Hendrix suddenly made sense as well. “Jimi?” I asked just to be sure.

  “Yep.”

  “Uh,” I thought about it for a minute before pointing at Nelson. “Willie?”I asked on a laugh.

  Vaughan’s grin widened and then he nodded. “George Harrison,” he explained while pointing to the second to youngest brother.

  “Wait,” I held up my hand. I thought over the remaining names for a moment before I came to my conclusion. “BB?” I asked, referring to King.

  A genuine look of surprise flashed across Vaughan’s face before he said, “Okay, now Page.”

  I thought about that for a minute longer while walking backwards towards Haley, “Jimmy Page. Led Zeppelin.”

  “Very good,” Vaughan admitted. “I’m impressed.”

  “What? You guys think you’re the last of the eclectic musicians?”

  Vaughan let out a bark of laughter and shook his head at me. “I guess not. Welcome to the Hotel California, Reagan.”

  Chapter Three

  Haley and I got set up on our bed- a queen sized tempur pedic that we decide to share. We’d been sleeping back to back for almost two years now. It was how we protected ourselves, using our guns as pillows and taking turns sleeping.

  I stretched out on the bed for a few minutes, the sheets were new- procured from the bedding section of this very floor- and the bed felt like pure heaven. I couldn’t even believe how long it had been since I’d slept in an actual bed. And when I truly processed how Haley and I had been living, how we’d just been barely surviving, I didn’t want to admit this was what my life boiled down to.

  I had three more weeks of high school when the initial infection broke out. I had three week
s left before I graduated. I had a partial academics scholarship to the University of Iowa and I was going to play intermural volleyball. I had this entire life planned out in my head, where I majored in elementary education, graduated in four and a half years after student teaching and then got a job in Des Moines. I would have this cute little apartment, the only roommate I had would be this rescue cat I picked up at the Humane Society and I would go out with my girlfriends on weekends. I would have eventually broken up with Quarterback-Chris, because if I was honest, that wasn’t the forever kind of love.

  Obviously, since I popped his head off like a dandelion.

  And then I would have met this really great guy one morning while I was getting coffee before school. We would have bumped into each other and he would have made a joke about it, then we would have fallen into easy conversation until I had to go before I was late for my teacher’s meeting. He would have gotten my number and the rest would have been this epic love story that ended in my dream wedding, four perfect kids and a house in the suburbs.

  Ok, so maybe my ideal future had been a little less reality and a lot more chick flick. However, it was worth pointing out that I was not even living a straight-to-DVD version of that life.

  Hobo-ing around the country, living off scavenged canned goods and cleaning up the Zombie infestation was more like the opposite of how I pictured my life going.

  “Let’s dump out our brand new baubles and organize,” Haley suggested while pulling herself into a sitting position. “Besides, it wouldn’t hurt you to change. Your big ass is totally hanging out.”

  I squeaked and slapped my hands back there, trying to cover myself up. We were hidden behind the make shift curtain walls, but still, my ripped-up jeans were embarrassing with all these hot boys running around.

  I pulled myself up so that I was sitting on my knees- my ass mostly hidden while I sat on it- and watched Haley dump out her backpack. Rolled up jeans and all kinds of t-shirts tumbled out, making a messy pile of treasure in front of me. I couldn’t hold back my smile- loot, glorious loot.