Chapter Five
Chapter Five
Rabbit Stew
ZACH
I walk into the bank and gesture for Aiden to follow me. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust from the brightness of the outside to the relative darkness in the lobby. I turn around to see the silhouette of Aiden coming through the door.
Am I stupid, bringing a total stranger into my little cocoon? The last year has been nothing but building it up and defending it. Letting someone else in makes me feel exposed. Maybe his good looks are clouding my judgment. Being cute isn’t a proper reason to trust someone. But maybe it’s an improper reason? As in, I’d like to do improper things to him.
Man, I’m lonely.
That whole lowering-the-pants thing—I saw that in a spy movie once. It may have been a little over the top. But it was fun.
Still, there’s something about Aiden. I’m pretty sure I can trust him. It was an experiment, when we were outside, and I lowered my gun. Made it look as if my guard was down. If he made a move, I was ready. But he didn’t. He passed the test. I saw that in a spy movie too.
It’s not absolute trust. I’m not totally na?ve. My guard is still up, and I’m keeping the vault locked. Plus, there are things he isn’t telling me. Like where did he really come from, and why does he appear so unaffected by the Great Collapse? And what’s really in those vials? It was obvious how nervous he was when he showed them to me. Antibiotics, my ass. Something’s not adding up.
Then again, he’s not the only one with secrets. He doesn’t know what happened to my uncle. And I haven’t told him about the one working car I know about. There are some secrets best kept to myself.
The real reason I let him in? We each have something the other needs. And I’m not talking about trading supplies for some work around the town. I couldn’t care less about that. I’ve tried to leave this place so many times, and I don’t think I can do it alone. If he’s heading all the way to Seattle, that could be my ticket home. If I trust him enough, I’ll lead him to the car at the junkyard, and we can travel to Seattle together. I just need to find the best time to mention it.
Standing inside the bank lobby, Aiden looks around, eyes wide. He admires the steel sheets I welded onto the windows. “You did all this yourself?”
“Yep.”
“Impressive.”
“I’m handy with a welding torch.” I smile.
“I’m getting a picture of how you’ve survived this long. What do these do?” Aiden reaches for the cables that fire the guns.
“Don’t touch those!” I launch between him and the cables, and my arm strikes his chest. My first human contact in over a year, and it sends an unexpected little wave of electricity through me. My cheeks heat. “Maybe—just—don’t touch anything.”
“Sorry.” He backs away, hands raised.
“It’s okay. It’s just—I’m not used to having anybody in here, and this is all a little strange for me.” I rub the back of my neck. “Plus, I’ve got a few—um—defensive measures set up around town.”
“Got it.” He points at a chair left over from when this was a bank lobby. “Is this safe?”
“Yes. The chair is safe.” A weird laugh escapes my lips. “Please. Sit down. Hang on for a second. I’ll be right back.” I gesture for him to stay as I scurry to the vault. There was a time when I could handle myself around a cute guy. But now I’m awkward and indecisive. It turns out flirting is a skill like everything else. Use it or lose it.
I grab a few items from the vault I suspect Aiden will want. I need to make a good impression on him, so he’ll trust me. While I’m here, I also grab ingredients for the rabbit stew. With everything loaded onto a gray plastic cart, I shut and lock the massive vault door. It makes a satisfying booming sound as it closes, echoing through the bank. My stash is safely locked inside.
Back in the lobby, Aiden still sits in the chair, hands on his legs, looking around the room.
I haven’t had a moment to truly look at him. He’s not just cute. He’s gorgeous. Stunning, in fact. He has piercing, pale-blue eyes. Almost silver. They’re a striking contrast to his olive skin. His square jawline frames full lips and perfect teeth. His nose is just the right proportion with a cute little tip, enough to make him adorable.
God, I must look so terrible right now. Personal aesthetics haven’t been exactly on top of my mind recently. Let’s be honest. I’ve entirely let myself go. But what am I stressing about? I’ve got more important things to worry about, like convincing him to take me home. But the feeling in the pit of my stomach is hard to ignore. I’m going to have to find some time to get cleaned up.
“Brought you a few things.” I hand Aiden a stack of cotton wipes, some antiseptic, a bottle of water, and a granola bar. “I notice you have a bunch of scrapes. You should get those cleaned up so they don’t get infected. And you must be hungry and thirsty.”
“Man, thanks.” He beams at me, then chugs the entire bottle of water.
The way he looks at me makes me melt inside. How am I going to operate around this guy?
Aiden inspects the cart. “Wow, you’re pretty well stocked.”
“Yeah, I found most of this stuff around town.”
“Quite the looter, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” I let out a forced laugh.
The whole looting experience was horrific, to be honest. After my uncle died, I stayed locked in his home for as long as I could. But after a few weeks, my dwindling food supply forced me to venture out and start scavenging. I could tell the instant I went into a home if the owners had skipped town or stayed and hunkered down. It was the smell. I don’t like to think about it.
Looters had already done a number on the town. They took every car with keys and siphoned the fuel from the rest. Picked every shop clean. Luckily, most of the houses were still untouched. Probably because of all the corpses. And the sick ones.
Going into each house was terrifying. Some were empty or only had dead people. In a few, one sick person remained, but never more than one. Survival of the fittest, I guess. They don’t seem to have qualms about killing each other. When I found a house like that, I’d open the door and run to the bank. They would eventually find their way out and wander into the forest. That sick man last night may very well have been one of the ones I set free, surviving in the forest somehow.
Once the houses were empty of people, I stripped them of everything useful and carted it all back to the vault. It turned out to be a good idea. Over the next month, looters took care of anything I left behind. Every time I saw somebody stroll into town, I’d go hide in the vault. That was all before I had the Wilsons and my armor-plated bank lobby. Now, I don’t put up with that crap.
With Aiden occupied, I’m free to start cooking. “Hey—um—I’m going to be making some rabbit stew. Let me know if you need anything else.” A weird laugh escapes my lips. Geez, I’m like a giggling schoolgirl.
“Will do,” Aiden says flatly, not noticing my awkwardness or just ignoring it.
He cleans up the scrapes on his arms and face while I finish skinning the second rabbit. The whole while, I keep stealing glances at him, half to keep my eye on him and half because I can’t help myself.
With the rabbit cleaned and deboned, I cut it into chunks. The teller’s desk is my kitchen. The long marble slab makes an excellent surface for prepping food. A stock of dishes, pots and pans, spices, and cooking supplies are all lined up along it.
Aiden’s finished tending to his wounds, and now he’s hovering, hands in pockets, watching what I’m doing. Those pale-blue eyes pierce into me. I’m so distracted I nearly cut my finger off.
“Hey, if you want something to do, you could get a fire started.” I point over to the pile of firewood and wood stove set up behind the teller’s desk, next to my bed.
“Sure. I can do that.”
The cast-iron stove has a flat surface on the top. It provides heat and a space to cook. A pipe extends up to the ceiling to vent smoke. What fun that was getting the stove all the way to the bank, taking me hours to drag it from a nearby house.
I grab a stack of bound twenties off the cart and throw it to Aiden. “Here. For kindling.”
It gets a laugh out of him, so it was worth every penny. Every penny. See what I did there? Yep, my mind tells jokes to itself. I’ve been alone for too long.
Once the fire has heated the cooktop, I sear the rabbit meat in a large Dutch oven. For the rest of the stew, I add a few jars of vegetables and potatoes. Some fresh thyme and rosemary from the garden help to enhance the flavors. I mix it all up and let it simmer. It’s a beef stew recipe I used to make with my mom but substituted with rabbit. It reminds me of her.
The scent permeates the room, and Aiden breathes it in. “Wow, I haven’t smelled something that delicious in a long time.”
“Thanks.” I’m trying hard not to blush at every nice thing he says.
He comes up right next to me to get another sniff. My mind fills with conflicting emotions. Attraction and repulsion are all mixed into one. He’s too close, and it’s freaking me out. I lurch back, unconsciously grabbing for the rifle slung over my back.
Aiden backs off, hands up and eyes wide. “Sorry.”
“I’m—Look, I’m gonna need some space.”
“I’ll keep my distance.”
“Have a seat.” I point to the lobby chair. “The food will be ready soon.”
I’ve spent the last year surviving on my own, not trusting anyone. Caution has kept me alive. I can’t turn that off like a switch just because some cute guy rolls into town, even if he’s traveling to the exact place I want to get to. It’ll take some time to get used to this. I have to let things run their course.
I clean up the kitchen in silence as the stew cooks. Once the flavors have melted together, and the meat is tender, I ladle out a decent portion into two bowls and hand him one.
“Thanks,” Aiden says as he takes the bowl. Now that he’s cleaned up his scrapes, it’s easy to make out four long scratch marks running down his right arm. They look like defensive wounds.
Oh god. What if he’s sick and doesn’t show it yet?
I move quickly to the other side of the lobby, hoping he doesn’t notice my reaction.
“You don’t need to worry about those.” Aiden points to the scratches. “I’m immune. That happened a week ago, and I’m fine. You’re probably immune, too, if you’ve made it this long.”
Immune? Is that even a thing? I suppose it explains why some people have survived. I assumed they were all isolated and lucky, like me. Being immune would be nice and all, but I’ve never been scratched. So I’m not so sure.
“How do you know you’re immune?” I ask.
“There’s a blood test. I was one of the first subjects. One in ten thousand are.”
I do some quick math. Eight billion people in the world. That’s only eight-hundred-thousand immune people. Around thirty thousand in the entire US. Not even enough to fill half of Seattle’s Husky Stadium. Isolated in Elk Springs, I could only guess how bad things were for the rest of the world. Those are slim odds for my parents and ex-boyfriend being alive. My throat is thick as I fight back emotions welling up.
That’s also slim odds for me being immune. What if my isolation has only made me lucky? Then again, what makes me think I can trust anything this guy says?
“What do you mean ‘blood test’?” I ask. “Are there, like, hospitals around still or something?”
“Something like that.”
Another annoyingly vague answer. “How do I know you’re not lying?”
“What reason would I have to lie?”
“To kill me and take my supplies.”
He raises an eyebrow. “If I had the Infection, and I wanted you sick, we’d both be dead soon. And me before you.”
“But maybe you can still spread it. Even if you’re immune.”
Aiden shakes his head. “That’s not how it works. It only spreads when you have symptoms, or if you’re one of those things. And symptoms start within twenty-four hours of being infected. These scratches are over a week old, so we’re good.”
“You sure know a lot about it.” It comes out a little sharper than I intended.
“I do.” His tone has an edge, as if he’s done talking about it.
This isn’t going how I wanted. I take a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m worried about my family back in Seattle. I haven’t seen them in over a year.”
“I understand.” His eyes soften a little. “It’s been tough on everybody.”
The fear of the Infected is too ingrained in me. Still, I guess he has nothing to gain by lying, but I’m still not ready to throw away all my precautions or admit I’m wrong. “Eat your stew before it gets cold.”
Aiden shrugs and starts eating. The way he wolfs the food down, it’s like he hasn’t eaten in weeks.
“This is so good.” He barely stops chewing while he’s talking. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“My mom. She’s an amazing cook…” Any time my parents enter my mind, it makes me a little melancholy.
“Neither of my parents could boil water without burning it. We ate out a lot.” Aiden snorts out a little laugh, not reading my mood. “Your mom taught you well.”
“Thanks.” An awkward silence follows. Aiden must have figured out it’s a touchy topic for me. He doesn’t probe further.
I change subjects to something that’s been on my mind since I saw him wander into town. “So, what’s your deal, exactly?”
“Um—can you be more specific?”
“The way you look. Most people look like mountain men. Worn out and frazzled. You don’t. And to be honest, it’s kinda freaking me out.”
Aiden lets out a little laugh, then pauses for a moment. When he speaks, it almost sounds rehearsed. “Where I’m from, there’s a slice of civilization left. A group of people who were in the right place at the right time. Scientists. Good people.”
“So that’s where you got the blood test?”
“Yes.”
I hadn’t dared hope a place like that existed. The very idea gets me excited. From my limited perspective, the entire world is anarchy. A hundred questions enter my mind, but he continues before I can ask any.
“I can’t tell you a lot about it. Part of what’s kept us safe is secrecy.”
I’m dying to know more, but pressing him doesn’t seem like a good idea. Not yet, anyway. I’ll respect his boundaries for now. “Well, it’s good to know it’s not all anarchy out there.”
“It’s not much. But, yeah, the world’s not all anarchy.”
“Do you guys at least have ice cream?”
Aiden laughs. “No. No ice cream.”
“That’s too bad. I really miss ice cream.”
“Yeah, me too.” Aiden looks up at the ceiling wistfully. “I miss sushi.”
“Roller coasters. Oh, and sailing! My family owns a sailboat.”
“Nice. I always wanted to learn to sail.”
“Maybe I can teach you some time.” Realizing it’s a little quick to make future plans with him, my face gets warm. “Uh—I mean, if there were any water around here.”
“Heh, yeah. Too bad.” Aiden smiles. “I miss movies. And popcorn.”
When Aiden says movies, I’m so excited I literally can’t contain it. An involuntary squeak comes out of me, and I cup my hand over my mouth. Giggling schoolgirl. Aiden shoots me an incredulous look.
I reach for a remote control next to me and make an exaggerated, “Ah-hem.” A sixty-five-inch flat-screen TV flickers on. Dramatic Star Wars orchestral music pipes through the speakers. It echoes around the lobby. Various cut scenes of Han, Luke, and Leia running around the Death Star play on a loop.
Aiden’s jaw drops open, and he laughs. “You have electricity? And movies?”
“You’d be surprised what you find when you loot houses. A lot of guys around here had portable batteries and camping solar panels. Wanted to keep their beer cold in the woods, I guess?” I point to a bunch of heavy-duty extension cords. They’re jammed through a hole in the corner of the ceiling, extending down into the room. “I’ve got about ten of them on the roof. They can’t power too much, but at least I can watch TV.”
Aiden shakes his head. “You’re a clever one, aren’t you, Zach?”
I wave him off and shrug. I’m getting comfortable enough with Aiden’s compliments, so the blushing isn’t an instant reaction this time. But it still tingles a bit.
“But Star Wars?” He feigns disapproval. “Nothing from this millennium? Not even Mandalorian? I’d love to see some Baby Yoda.”
I scowl. “First, it’s Grogu, not Baby Yoda. Second, Star Wars is a classic. Shame on you. Third, I got electricity working. Not the freaking Internet. If it ain’t on DVD, it ain’t on this TV.” I fold my arms and glare at him for as long as I can hold it until a smile cracks through.
Aiden lets out a short laugh. “You had me for a sec.”
And then we both start cracking up, the sound of it echoing around the lobby. Oh man, it feels great to laugh. And speaking of which, Aiden’s laugh is amazing. Heartfelt and genuine. Not too noisy or hissy. I missed having company so much.
“For the record, I knew it was Grogu,” Aiden says between laughs. “I just like the name Baby Yoda better.”
“Sacrilege!” I point to him. “It’s like I don’t even know you.”
At the ridiculousness of that statement, a fresh round of laughing erupts. My side hurts from it. A wonderful hurt.
As Aiden erupts with giggles, I contemplate my options. How can I get him to trust me? Agreeing to trade might be a step in the right direction. Plus, he could help with a bunch of things around town. An extra set of hands would make it a lot easier. I’ll hold off on mentioning the car and me going with him. That will come later. All in good time.
“So I’ll make you deal, Aiden. If you help me with some things around town for a few days, I’ll stock you up with supplies to last you a week. And I’ll even throw in a movie night. Sound good?”
Aiden pauses for a moment, then looks me in the eye. “Sounds like a deal.”
We head out of the bank to tour the town. My comfort level is rising around him, but precautions are still important. I keep my distance, and the rifle is by my side. I don’t think he’s going to pull anything, but I’m ready in case he does.
We walk over to the rain barrels I’ve set up at the bottom of every downspout along Main Street collecting rainwater. May was a wet month, so they’re all near capacity.
“These are fifty-five-gallon drums. But some tanks in town are over five-hundred gallons. Even empty, they’re too heavy for one person. I’d like us to drag one over here.”
Aiden nods. “Sounds good.”
“And here are the drip irrigation lines that run to the garden. If I turn this spigot here, the water flows through them.”
I follow the lines out to the garden and wave Aiden along.
“As long as there’s enough water in the tanks, I get good pressure through the entire system. Until I get right here.” Kneeling at the far end of the garden, I fuss with the irrigation tube. “Maybe it’s too long of a lead—”
“Zach, don’t move.”
Aiden is towering over me, a rifle in his hands.
My rifle.