by Emma Castle
Oh God…
Neither of them said a word for a long while. When she thought he was close to drifting off, he suddenly spoke, causing her to tense.
“I’m sorry. I got carried away.” He nuzzled her neck and pressed a sweet kiss to her skin. He’d fucked her like a warrior and now cuddled like a tame tiger.
“I got carried away too. We never even had the talk, like good adults are supposed to.”
His rich chuckle would have made her smile at any other time. “The talk? What’s that?”
“You know…” She blushed. “Are you clean of diseases? Am I on the pill? Do we need a condom?”
“Oh…” His chuckling stopped. “That talk.”
She braced herself. “Lincoln, I’m not on the pill, but I’m clean.”
“Me too. Clean,” he replied, nuzzling her ear. “Now’s the part where we talk about the fact that I just fucked you bareback? I wish I could say I regret it, but I sure as hell don’t. You were a slice of heaven.”
His words made her blush deepen, and she was thankful for the darkness, but it also made her warm and gooey inside. He was certainly no poet, but he knew how to make her feel like a goddess.
“We have to be careful. What if… What if we end up having a baby?” It was a dangerous question in a dangerous world.
“Then we handle it.”
“Handle it?” Her voice pitched up an octave uncomfortably. “You do realize we don’t exactly have doctors and hospitals anymore. If things stay like this, the risk factor is going to be high giving birth. Then there’s the question of even raising a child in this world…”
“I know.”
“And you’re the one who keeps talking like it’s the end of days.”
“I know, but…I want to believe it won’t stay that way.”
It was the first she’d ever heard him even hint at the possibility of a better future.
“But it’s up to you. Like you said, the risks are higher right now. Keep it or…” He didn’t finish, and she realized what he meant. She’d always known her feelings on unexpected pregnancies. Despite the world having gone to hell around her, her thoughts hadn’t changed. She thought of a child with a flutter of hope. Would it be immune? Would she be forced to watch it perish from the virus?
“I think…I think I’d want to keep it,” she whispered, then held her breath to see if he would react badly. “If it happens.”
“Then that’s what we do,” Lincoln replied, his arms holding her closer to him, and he pulled the sheets up around them.
“What do you want to do? It’s our choice, one we should make together.” While it was happening inside her body, they had done this together, and whatever came of it she wanted him to know she valued his feelings.
“I…honestly?”
“Honestly,” she insisted.
He breathed in her ear, his heart beating faster against her back while she lay against his chest.
“I think we should be more careful from now on, until things improve. I don’t want a life on the run with a child. The dangers, aside from Hydra, are numerous. Bandits, murderers, rapists. God knows what’s out there. We don’t know of anywhere that’s truly safe anymore. How can I feel like a good father when all I would do is put my child in danger?”
His honesty hurt, but she needed to hear it because those were his feelings.
“But if I wanted to keep it, you would…want to stay and be a father to it?”
She’d never felt more vulnerable than she did now, laying herself emotionally bare to this man. She was essentially asking for a commitment from him. He could leave her tonight while they slept, and she could be left alone, possibly pregnant. Fear seized her, and she rolled to face him, watching the moonlight hit his face. He looked old, not in years, but in life, like she was gazing upon the statute of an ancient king. Solemn, tragic, mysterious—they all crowned him in the darkness that lay between them.
“If you wanted it, I would find a way to keep you and the baby safe,” he said. “No matter what.”
She sighed and pressed her lips to his throat in a gentle kiss.
“But we don’t have to worry about that now. We won’t know for a few weeks. I’ll raid the first pharmacy we come across for a pregnancy test.” He brushed a lock of her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “You should get some sleep.”
“Could we sleep skin to skin?” she asked, feeling oddly uncomfortable in her bra while he still wore his jeans. He pulled back the covers, and they both stripped down to nothing. He pulled her back into his arms.
“To think this happened because I thought we should be in separate beds to avoid this.” He chuckled, but she was too exhausted to focus on what he said.
She drifted into a twilight sleep where she was somewhat aware of her dreams of a dark-haired, brown-eyed child running in the woods, swallowed up by darkness while she and Lincoln cried out as they searched for their child. Would any child in this world ever be safe again? Not having an answer to that haunted her, destroying any chance of happy dreams.
Lincoln listened to Caroline’s breathing and knew when she was asleep. He wouldn’t sleep at all, however, not after what they had done. They had possibly created a life tonight, and he could barely stomach the violent knotting in his gut at the thought. Had he condemned an innocent child to facing the horrors of their newly changed world? But if Caroline wanted the baby, it would become a part of his mission.
He stretched back on the bed, listening to the heavy silence. People didn’t understand silence, not true silence. There was no hum of cars on the road, no vibrating of the walls with air conditioners or hissing of water pipes, no sounds from numerous electronic devices, no sizzling of the air with electricity snaking through the power lines. It was all silence. Only the wind made any sound as it raked against branches or pulled bits of trash along the ground. But there was no wind tonight. In the silence, a man could imagine a thousand sounds that weren’t really there but would haunt him until he was convinced he was hearing things.
In the last few months, he’d taken to sleeping with a small handheld radio. The white noise static sound of dead channels helped to soften the roar of the silence and the other sounds he dreamed he heard.
The crackle of voices through the radio was one such imagined sound. He had bolted out of his bed a dozen other nights after Adam had died, expecting, hoping to hear the last president of the United States say something, anything, even though he knew the man was dead. But always he dreamed it just as sleep began to creep in.
“This is a call for help. Any survivors, please respond.”
Lincoln listened to the words his mind must have dreamed up.
“Please respond…” The tinny voice crackled through the radio again. Lincoln was surprised by the realness of his dream and decided to investigate. He tucked Caroline into bed, making sure she was covered. Then he pulled on his briefs and reached for the radio where it sat next to the lifeless TV.
“Please respond. We are calling for all survivors. This is Dr. Erica Kennedy from the CDC. We have power in our headquarters in Atlanta. Please respond.”
“CDC?” He uttered the initials like they were a foreign tongue. He’d been at the White House when the director had urged the president to enact the Omaha Protocol…the bunker…the last hope to keep the chain of command alive.
Lincoln’s heart began to pound as he reached for the radio. He clicked the talk button and brought it to his lips.
“This is Major Lincoln Atwood, First Special Forces Operational Detachment–Delta. Please repeat your full message.” He let go of the button and waited, his heart hammering wildly.
“This is Dr. Erica Kennedy of the CDC. We have power at the headquarters in Atlanta. We are urging survivors to come forward and provide blood samples for testing. Are you confirmed to be immune?”
Lincoln’s hand started to shake as a violent surge of emotions flowed through him. Hope, joy, excitement, fear. He hit the talk button.
“I am confirmed immune, and I’m with another immune survivor.”
Erica’s voice came back on quickly. “Thank God! You’re the first person I’ve been able to reach. Please come to Atlanta. We need you.”
Lincoln had the sudden sense he was being watched and saw Caroline was sitting up in bed now, her eyes wide. The moonlight made her pale face glow. They locked gazes, and she slowly nodded.
“Dr. Kennedy, I’m happy to report we will be on our way. We just have to make a trip to Joplin first to check on some family. If we find any other survivors, we’ll bring them along.” Caroline would want to punch him for leaving Glenn and Joanie in Nebraska when they could be of use to the CDC now.
“Thank you, Major Atwood. We will stay on this channel. Contact us if you can, and keep me updated on your progress.” The radio was silent for a moment, and Lincoln wondered if they were done communicating.
“Be careful out there. You could save many lives if you can make it to Atlanta safely.”
“Understood,” Lincoln replied, then set the radio down.
“Oh, Lincoln…,” Caroline whispered, and then she sniffed. Tears streaked down her cheeks. He rushed to her, kneeling by the bed and cupping her face.
“Hey…honey, this is good news.”
“I know,” she said, still sniffling. “I’m happy. I forgot what hope felt like, you know? Real hope. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”
He kissed her forehead. “Me too.”
“Come back to bed?” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He saluted and won a smile from her. He slid back into bed beside her, spooning her body, holding on to her like a life preserver.
They lay together, sharing body heat and silence. But for the first time in months, he felt like the silence didn’t suffocate him. Because within that silence, he had finally heard the radio crackle. He had heard hope.
11
Pale, without name or number,
In fruitless fields of corn,
They bow themselves and slumber
All night till light is born;
And like a soul belated,
In hell and heaven unmated,
By cloud and mist abated
Comes out of darkness morn.
—“The Garden of Proserpine”
by Algernon Charles Swinburne
* * *
Caroline woke in bed alone, her panic rising again, but the sounds of the shower relieved her fears that Lincoln was still here. After last night’s mind-blowing passion, the possible repercussions, and the radio contact from the CDC, her entire world had changed.
She tried to process both the fear and excitement about how she and Lincoln might be more than partners in survival—that they might be parents too. And the thought of a cure? That was news she never thought she’d hear. After the world had lost power and communication, she’d assumed the CDC had gone dark like everywhere else. Yet here was the dawn, the actual dawn, with sun streaming through the windows bright and warm in a way it hadn’t in weeks. It was so easy in the winter to forget what the sun really felt like, and ever since Christmas, it seemed like the sun had abandoned them.
The water turned off, and she could hear humming from inside the bathroom. She lay down on the bed, watching the shadows and light through the gap between the door and the carpet as Lincoln moved about on the other side.
She closed her eyes briefly, pretending for one glorious moment that life was normal again. Cars were speeding down the highway, the TV would spark to life when she used the remote, and that she’d just had amazing sex with a man after dating him for months. She almost laughed at the silly daydream. For the first time in her life, she’d be bringing a man home to meet her parents, and it was literally because the world was ending. Her sister was going to laugh at the irony.
Lincoln emerged from the bathroom. A towel hung low over his lean hips, and that taunting group of muscles forming a V on his pelvis made her thighs clench together. His chest was smooth except for that trailing patch of dark hair leading to… She jerked her focus up to his face. Her heart stuttered.
Caroline went slack-jawed as she realized she was staring at a stranger. The man who stood there, water drops clinging to his skin and looking like he’d stepped out of her darkest and most delicious fantasies, was not a man she knew.
“L–Lincoln?” She tested his name as the man stroked a hand over his clean-shaven face.
“What? You don’t like it? Did I cut myself?” He stepped back into the bathroom, checking his face in the mirror.
“You shaved. It’s just…I guess I didn’t recognize you. I’m so used to you being a mountain man.” She had started to grow fond of her sexy, intimidating mountain man.
“Given the recent news, I thought cleaning up was in order. You don’t like it?”
“No, I do, I do. I was just…surprised, is all.” Truth was, Lincoln Atwood was even sexier than she’d guessed. Beneath all that facial hair was a chiseled jaw, a strong chin, and the most sensual lips a man could have. He was perfect. Fitness-magazine-model perfect. And he had just fucked the life out of her last night. She stifled a giggle.
“Caroline?” He spoke her name cautiously, and she knew how unsettling it must be because Lincoln was normally so self-assured about everything. His confidence had always made her feel safe. Now she saw a suddenly awkward and shy side to him. That shouldn’t have turned her on, but it did.
“You’re beautiful,” she blurted out without thinking.
He chuckled. “Okay…not exactly the word I was looking for.”
“I mean I like it, the beardless look. It’s hot, but the beard was hot too. But maybe I miss my mountain man a little.” She then bit her lip, trailing her gaze down his body once more. He noticed, and his own sweeping appraisal of her set her body on fire.
“Keep looking at me like that and I’ll show you your mountain man, honey,” he growled. Self-assured Lincoln was back, and she wanted him so much. He took a step toward her, and she had only a moment to remember their mistake from last night.
“Condoms!” Caroline held up her hand, catching his attention. He snatched his backpack and pulled out a fistful of condoms, tossing them on the bed so they rained down around her. Then he ripped the towel off his hips and stalked toward her. He pulled back the blankets on the bed, exposing her naked body. She squealed as he crawled up the bed, caging her beneath him, pinning her arms on either side of her head as he stole her lips in a possessive kiss that made her blood sing.
His body commanded her sensual surrender, and she was happy to give in to his every demand. He moved down her body, his lips exploring the valley between her breasts, her hard nipples. As he laved at the sensitive peaks with his tongue, she groaned with pleasure. She felt both desperate and at peace as he made love to her.
The raw, aggressive passion from last night was gone, replaced by a slow, deliberate sweetness. He had said he was rough, but this certainly wasn’t. He was gentle as he parted her thighs, gentle as he explored her folds with his mouth, licking her until she came apart with exhausted screams. Then he moved back up her body and sheathed himself in a condom before sliding into her welcoming body.
It felt so good to feel him inside her, the connection between them burning so deep. He rode her slowly but with hard thrusts, pinning her beneath him on the bed. She dug her heels into his ass, and their gazes locked as their breath mingled.
For the first time she saw a glimpse of Lincoln without shadows, without pain. There was only hunger and something deeper, something akin to wonder. That sense of awe was growing inside her too. This thing between them had become much more than she’d imagined—it was more than just sex. Right now, they were one body, one heart, one mind, one soul. The past ceased to exist and the future was a bright star in the distance. This moment became their entire universe.
They didn’t kiss now; they simply moved together, faces fixed upon one another as they became slaves to that biological need to connect. Softer
, sweeter emotions ran like quicksilver beneath her skin as a second climax, not as sharp, but richer, rolled through her. Her body quaked from the force of it. Every nerve ending seemed to come alive, and her legs fell open on the bed as a delicious fatigue overcame her. Every tensed muscle, every flash of anxiety shooting through in the last few months suddenly eased. At least for now. She felt only a quiet, soft joy, like waking to bright sunlight and hearing the chatter of birds outside one’s window after a violent thunderstorm.
Lincoln kissed her ear as he left to use the bathroom. Then he dressed and set his bag on the other bed, sorting through the weapons and supplies. Caroline wanted to stay in bed forever, but she knew they had to get moving. They needed to make it to Joplin by nightfall, find her family, and then head to the CDC in Atlanta.
The thought of a cure or a vaccine lifted her weary spirit. The population may be decimated, but a cure was still important. Fear of Hydra-1 was almost as devastating as the disease itself, and until the survivors were sure it wouldn’t return, rebuilding on any large scale would be impossible.
She slid out of bed and rushed into the bathroom, still a little shy in front of Lincoln. She was relieved to find the water was fairly warm, almost hot. She lingered in the stall, letting the droplets grow cold on her skin before she got out. Then she wrapped a towel around herself and wiped a hand across the mirror, clearing a path in the slightly fogged-up glass so she could see her reflection. She had avoided mirrors for months, almost afraid to see her face after everything that had happened. But now, now she had to see. Hope burned inside her like a raging fire that she never wanted to go out. She looked like her old self again, the woman who refused to give up.
Caroline was still smiling an hour later as she and Lincoln finished their breakfast in the empty dining hall of the hotel. Then they packed up the car with their supplies and got back on the road. She kept the radio close by so they could hear if the CDC made any more announcements. Even the sight of burned-out buildings, looted stores, and abandoned homes couldn’t penetrate the small bubble of hope that she now blossomed in her chest.
