Chapter 25
Kate
Jordan and I spend another night in the apartment complex, gathering various winter gear we’ll need for the mountains, but I barely can think clearly. Thinking about her stuck in those caves when she came to…I feel sick when I think about it for more than a second.
She’s also stuck in her own thoughts, but she was listening for any signs of infected wandering through here. When I worried about them smelling her blood the way they can mine, she dismissed it easily. They can tell if blood is infected, she reminded me.
So, we stayed awake through the night, too on edge to sleep.
We’re all used to it by now—it’s rare to get a good night’s rest nowadays.
Since the outbreak, sleep has become a luxury people don’t have.
We’re either on watch, or too plagued by the nightmares that we can’t settle.
The zones are full of people with insomnia, struggling to relax enough to sleep.
We waited until mid-morning to leave, just as the last of the infected staggered into their resting place.
Despite the lack of rest, there’s an easiness between Jordan and me that wasn’t there before. She moves more confidently, more relaxed. Maybe finally sharing a little bit about what happened to her helped.
It has me observing her out of the corner of my eye. Her white hair is pulled back in a ponytail down her back, her muscles nearly glistening in the afternoon sun. The virus makes the infected strong, but I bet Jordan was strong before too.
I blink, mentally scolding myself. Why am I thinking about that? Seeing her as anything other than…Jordan is wrong. My reaction to her washing me was simply a lapse in judgment.
And the moment where she had pressed her knee against me…that, too, was an error.
Still, I keep catching myself stealing glances over at her.
As we go, clouds have rolled in, the sky now an ominous gray.
“It’ll rain soon,” Jordan comments as if I’ve completely missed the storm clouds. “Let’s stop.”
I nod, though she doesn’t look over at me, as we randomly select a place to stay. Jordan steps inside the house as a roll of thunder booms overhead. I stand with one foot in the doorway, ready to run from the rain, as Jordan comes back over.
“All clear,” she informs me, so I follow her in.
As I usually do, I wander through the house, looking for small clues as to who used to live here.
The décor looks like we’ve been transported to the ‘70s: a dark green retro couch, a tie dye rug underneath, with a few lava lamps on different tables. There’s even a corded phone sitting on the coffee table, next to—
“A radio,” I gasp, reaching for it but falling short as if scared touching it will make it disappear.
It’s bulky, with a bunch of knobs and plugs that I don’t understand.
“This looks high tech. I wonder what it’s doing here,” Jordan asks from behind me. “Maybe the people who lived here tried communicating with the outside world. Does it work?”
“I don’t know,” I rasp, fingers trembling.
This is the closest I’ve been to one in a long time. I fight the curiosity, the sense of excitement that’s growing under my skin. If it doesn’t work, I don’t want to be crushed.
I turn it on and static fills the room. Twisting one of the knobs, I search for the sound of a song, a voice, anything. I keep going, excitement morphing into anxiety as nothing but static keeps flowing from the speakers.
“Maybe—” Jordan’s words are cut off as a grainy voice rings out.
I can’t stop my small, shocked squeal. I turn the volume up, nearly pressing my ear to it to consume the voice of someone on the outside world.
Today is October 8, 2053, five years—outbreak—Communication with city officials—silent, and the island has been dark—President Laurel confirmed—under quarantine. After concerted efforts—administration and top medical professionals— the island held no survivors.
My blood goes cold. “No survivors?” I must have misheard—
Today is Remembrance Day for—who perished—We are lucky to—acted swiftly and effectively stopping—virus from spreading outside the island.
The voice discusses events to ‘remember’ us, but I stop listening. “That—that can’t be right,” I whisper, my mind going a million miles a minute.
The city is full of survivors! We’re here, struggling to make it to tomorrow, trying to live with what we have here.
Does this mean…no one on the outside is looking for a cure? I thought our government would be trying to help, thought they would want everyone to be safe.
I turn to Jordan, who is seething with rage behind me. Her arms are crossed, and she’s staring daggers at the machine.
“Pieces of shit,” she snarls, “leaving us here to rot. I assumed as much, but to actually hear it…” She shakes her head, her anger morphing with disgust. “I can’t listen to this anymore.”
She steps forward and switches the radio off. The silence in the house is deafening.
“I need to prepare our food,” she grits out before storming away, leaving me to be swallowed up by my mind as the reality sinks in.
No one is coming to save us. We’re on our own.
A deluge comes down from the heavens, stopping us from traveling for longer than expected. It’s been three days and I feel like I’m going to climb up the walls. I fight the urge to think about what we heard on the radio. I nearly drive myself mad thinking about it when there’s nothing I can do.
At least, not until I’m back in the safe zone. There has to be someone who can think of a solution.
Jordan seems unbothered as she prepares more food, re-organizes our supplies, and even starts whittling at some point. I find myself observing her with curiosity. What color hair did she have before the virus leeched it away?
Was this something she’d do for fun before the outbreak?
I sit across the room and watch her work, her biceps flexing as she goes.
The thought catches me off guard, and I snap my mouth closed, not realizing I was basically ogling her. I’m still not sure how I feel about her. We had a few moments where she stirred something in me, but she also irritates the fuck out of me.
We’re travel partners, I remind myself. She may have demanded I come back with her after the vaccine is ready, but there’s still time to get out of that.
And yet, underneath it all, I find her presence…comforting. My eyes stray to her muscular frame, taking her in. I don’t believe the lie I keep trying to tell myself.
“Are you going to help or are you just going to stare at me all day?” she quips flatly.
I jolt in my seat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie. My ears burn at being caught. “Is there anything you’d like me to do?”
Jordan seems to think for a moment before saying, “Not really, actually. Unless you’d like to whittle, as well.”
“For what purpose?”
“To pass the time.”
I bite back my groan. “I’m fine.” I drum my fingers against my knees. “Maybe we could do something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like talk.”
“No thanks.”
This time I do groan. “Come on, Jordan. We’re stuck in here until the rain stops. Let’s at least do something fun.”
“How is talking fun?” she drawls.
I give her an evil grin. “We could swap secrets.”
She finally looks over at me, her gaze curious. “What kind of secrets?”
I’m a bit surprised she’s even entertaining this. “Whatever we want. I can go first.” She inclines her head for me to continue. “I used to have my nipples pierced.”
Jordan nearly chokes on her own saliva. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t be so shocked,” I mutter, affronted. “I got them in college.”
She sets her knife and new tiny spear down before rubbing her palms on her pants. Her eyes go straight to my tits unabashedly. “Why don’t you still have them?”
Her gaze makes me squirm in my seat. “I couldn’t take care of them anymore, so I took them out.”
“Would you like me to re-pierce them for you?”
I nearly choke on my saliva. “Oh—that’s not—"
“I’m messing with you.” She shoots me a grin, making me stop my pathetic sputtering.
“Your turn,” I say, working to pull myself together.
Jordan looks away for a moment, stuck in thought, before she replies, “I’m allergic to tomatoes.”
I blink. “For some reason, that’s not what I was expecting you to share,” I admit. “Is that really a secret?”
She shrugs. “It was something I chose not to tell you until now.”
“I don’t think you know how to play this game.”
“Am I only supposed to share sexual secrets?”
“What?” I squawk. “No, of course not. Mine wasn’t sexual, either.”
“You brought up your nipples,” she points out.
“So? Nipples aren’t inherently sexual.”
“Why did you get the piercings?”
“Because—” I clamp my mouth shut.
I did get them to enhance sensation. Jordan gives me a smug look, like she knows exactly what I was about to say. I wave my hand dismissively. “Okay, fine, maybe that one was sexual.”
She leans back, placing her hands behind her head, showing off her glorious arms. I force myself to look away from them, kicking myself internally. I need to get a grip.
“Your turn,” she nudges.
I clear my throat, trying to dislodge the embarrassment. “I don’t like tomatoes.”
Jordan blinks before letting out a huff of a laugh. “And how is that a secret?”
“Try telling someone you don’t like tomatoes. People are super weird about it.”
She snorts, a little glimmer in her eye as she takes me in. “Sounds like it’s best we stick together, to fend off the tomatoes.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I find myself saying without even thinking about it. But I don’t feel any anxiety or worry at the words. Which should scare me.
“Your turn,” I tell her.
“Well,” she doesn’t stop grinning as she continues, “I slept with a woman twenty years older than me.”
My mouth hangs open. “Really?”
She nods. “Really.”
“Was it good?”
“It was phenomenal.”
“Wow,” I breathe, something sparking across my skin. “Good for you,” I mumble, which makes Jordan’s eyes sharper.
“Um, my turn, I guess. Let me think…” I thrum my fingers against my thighs as I wrack my brain. “Oh, well.” My face heats. “I’ve been with a woman before, too.”
Jordan’s strong arms spread across the back of the couch. “Just once?”
“Yeah,” I squeak, my entire body on fire. “It was before, you know.” I wave my hand awkwardly.
“And did you enjoy it?”
I can barely breathe. “Mmhmm.”
She cocks her head, studying me like a wolf eyeing a doe. “Was it a one-time thing?”
“I wish it hadn’t been,” I admit, my voice breathy. “But I haven’t really been interested in…that all that much.”
“Why not?” Her voice glides over my skin like silk, making it hard to think properly.
“Too preoccupied with the apocalypse,” I try to joke, but the words come out strangled.
“You seemed interested when I had my—”
“I think it’s your turn for a secret,” I interrupt, my body thrumming.
She smirks before leaning forward, her arms leaning against her thighs. “I’m attracted to you.”
Something between a whine and a gasp comes out of me. “This is highly inappropriate.”
She hums, a twinkle in her eye as she watches me squirm. “I figured it was obvious.” Her tongue glides across a fang. “And it’s obvious you’re attracted to me.”
It’s suddenly boiling in here.
“What?” I scoff, trying to fend off the rush of nerves sparking along my skin. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Why lie?” she purrs. “I don’t see a reason to. I’ve thought some filthy things.”
“You have?” Morbid curiosity mingles with the tiny seed of desire in me.
She nods, a smug expression on her face as she murmurs, “While I’ve practiced some stress relief.” Her chuckle skitters across my bones, heating my blood.
The meaning of her words finally clinks, and I nearly choke. “You’ve—how? When?”
“Do you actually want to know?”
Yes. Maybe. I should feel panicked, maybe even violated, but all I feel is ready to rip my clothes off.
Whatever she sees on my face seems to be answer enough, because she smiles, her fangs gleaming. “Maybe I’ll keep that secret to myself. I think it’s your turn to share another,” she prods.
I almost can’t think over the charged energy in the room, the thick tension that flows between us. “Well, let me see if I can top that…”