Chapter 3
Don’t Be a Dick
Allie
Although Allie hadn’t seen signs of them for nearly an hour, she knew the horde was still behind them, still traveling in their direction.
She could feel them like something crawling under her skin when she turned her thoughts in that direction.
But they were far enough ahead that Allie felt they were safe to go straight to the bunker.
She was bringing someone to the bunker.
A man. An attractive man, one with a soothing presence and a crooked, appealing grin. Cameron Hale—Cam—was both exactly what she’d expected and a total surprise. It was overwhelming to be so near another human after so long. And after Brandon. She shuddered.
“You okay, Allie?” Cam asked softly.
Instead of answering, she glanced over at him and said, “We’re nearly there. The horde’s far enough behind us that I don’t think they’ll see us going into the bunker, but they haven’t changed direction.”
He nodded. “This area seems pretty deserted. We were probably the only action they’ve had in days.”
Allie turned right onto a dirt road. “Is it weird that after all this time, I still feel guilty about not signaling?”
Cam chuckled. The sound, so appealing, made her want to shiver all over again.
They bumped down the road in silence, Allie taking care to go slow—no need to break an axle—until she saw what she was looking for.
The tree stood in the middle of the field, or what would have been a field two years ago but was now a scraggly mess of grasses and weeds everywhere except the semi-flattened track she’d made with the truck.
Even that wasn’t much of an indicator. It wasn’t as though she’d driven much lately.
The stump beside the tree wasn’t visible yet, but she knew where it was.
She parked and motioned for Cam to get out, which he did, taking the backpack as he slid from the truck.
Allie ignored a brief pang of panic. He’s not running.
Morrigan wouldn’t have had you save him if he was just going to take off with your bag. Although, damn, the guy could run.
Cam walked around to her side of the truck and stood, waiting for her even as his gaze swept their perimeter. She couldn’t help but smile at that as she pulled her rifle from the back. Cam was a survivor, for sure.
“Is the stump some kind of marker?” he asked.
“Watch.” She flipped up the exposed root that hid the lever. The stump slid aside to reveal a hatch entrance, complete with narrow stairs so steep they were almost a ladder.
“Wow,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows. “Someone was paranoid, right?”
“Most definitely.” She shouldered her rifle. “Follow me.”
The cool, slightly dank air of the bunker enveloped her as she descended, easing the last of her zombie-tuned nerves. Home sweet home. She flipped on the lights then turned to see Cam shading his eyes with one large dirty forearm.
“Whoops.” She grimaced. “I should have warned you.”
“No way. I can’t believe you have electricity out here.”
“There are solar panels in a neighboring field. I found them when I was exploring. They do fine on the daily, as long as I don’t try to run too many things at once.”
“Cool,” he said, turning around.
She followed his gaze, trying to see the bunker through his eyes.
Then, without warning, the enormousness of his presence in the bunker—this safe space, her safe space—settled into her gut.
Hot tears sprang to her eyes, blurring her vision.
She turned away, mouthing the words to her song, but she couldn’t focus.
Every part of her was trembling, and she didn’t want Cam to see.
Let’s get snacking...
Behind her, Cam murmured, “Hey.”
When she didn’t respond, she felt him moving closer to her.
“You’re shaking.” His deep voice was gentle, and for some reason, that made her trembling even worse. “Is it...?”
She tried to speak but couldn’t.
“Can I touch your shoulders?”
She swallowed against the lump in her throat. How long had it been since she’d had physical contact with another person? The idea overwhelmed and alarmed her. Enticed. Unable to find the words, she nodded, a quick jerk of her head. When he still hesitated, she forced herself to whisper, “Yes.”
His large, warm hands went to her shoulders and at first only rested there lightly. Allie closed her eyes and choked back a sob. Then he began to knead her muscles, and it felt so good that a fresh onslaught of tears swelled and flowed down her cheeks.
He didn’t speak or move closer. After a few minutes, she began to breathe easier. Her body stopped trembling, and her muscles began to relax.
With a shuddering sigh, Allie released her elbows and brought her hands up to wipe her wet face. Cam let her go, stepping back. She took a deep breath and turned around.
The sympathy in his tired eyes transfixed her. She stared into them for a moment before shifting her gaze away. “Thank you,” she said, proud that her voice felt stronger. “I’m sorry I kind of fell apart there.”
Cam shook his head, then he enveloped both of her hands in his own. The warmth of his skin, the reassuring strength in his hands, made her catch her breath, but she didn’t pull away.
“Your hands are cold,” he said, rubbing them.
“They always are, after...” She didn’t finish the thought. “It’s... so much. So quickly. The zombies. The horde. Then you.” She shook her head, laughing a little, hating how broken she sounded. “Having you here, in the bunker—it was a shock, all of a sudden.” She paused. “If that makes any sense.”
“It does.”
His hands were rough but not unpleasantly so. They sent a tingling up her arms that reached down into her belly. She gasped—it couldn’t be helped—and couldn’t stop herself from leaning into it, into him, just a little.
“Better?” Was his voice lower, more intimate, than it had been?
She raised her eyes to his, and his gaze was still so steady and warm that she had trouble looking away. The low whine of the air-filtration system kicking on startled her, and she pulled her hands from his and entwined them in front of her.
“Yes,” she managed. “Better. Thank you.”
The corners of his mouth curved up. “Any time.” He ran one hand through his still-sweaty hair, almost nervously, and looked at the corridor behind them. “Well, now that you’ve got me in your lair, I’d love a tour. If that won’t disturb the mole people.”
Even as wildly on edge as she still was, Allie couldn’t help but smile at that. We already have an in-joke. “Of course.”
Everything she sensed from Cam told her he wouldn’t break her trust or betray her the way Brandon had.
Cam said he believed her. He’d processed it so calmly.
Still, the way she’d found the bunker, the way she had always been able to find things she needed, might be too much even for the most open-minded person to deal with.
Cam was waiting for her to respond to his request for a tour, his blue-gray eyes patiently resting on hers, like he could wait all day.
Come on, Allie. Get it together. If he asks how you found this place, you don’t have to tell him the whole truth. Yet.
She pulled her shoulders back and gave him a smile that was real, even if it felt strained around the edges. “Right this way.”
Cam
His angel had shown herself to be tough in all kinds of ways, but she looked fragile as hell in that weird little entryway-slash-storage room.
Maybe it was the lighting in the bunker that made the hollows of her face stand out, or maybe it was the way she was always holding onto herself, either with her hands tangled together or one hand clutching the opposite arm, like she would fly apart otherwise. Like she was made of glass.
Once she got moving and talking, however, she relaxed a little.
She overflowed with information, throwing in little random asides that increased in number as she got more animated and, he hoped, more comfortable with him.
As wondrous as the bunker was, Cam found his gaze straying from the water-filtration system or the working bathroom or the two bedrooms with their actual made beds to her face again and again.
What had happened to her that had kept her here, on her own, for a full year?
It might just have been the bunker itself.
The layout was about like that of a small two-bedroom apartment, with modifications, and the amenities spoke for themselves.
The living room had a small couch and a couple of comfortable chairs, a TV, and DVD player.
In the corner stood a manual treadmill and a stationary bike, which seemed to be connected to generators meant to supplement the solar power.
Some free weights lay nearby. There could be no better place to live through the apocalypse, even though Cam could see that the bunker wasn’t entirely perfect.
There would be a mold problem in the future, as there seemed to be some leaks.
And if anything fell apart, fixing it would be a tricky proposition, even with the impressive collection of tools and DIY books that the mysterious builder of the bunker had included.
Still, by the time Allie had shown him to the far end of the bunker and the freight elevator at the other end—which was the only other way in and out but was too loud to use, she explained—Cam found himself thanking whatever god was looking out for him for landing him in this place and for putting him in the dreams of this woman.
Those dreams, and knowing what they meant, might complicate things later. It would complicate things when he asked to use the radio.
As if reading his mind, Allie took him over to the short-wave and CB radios, which looked to be in good condition, at what she called her “communication station.” She then laughed self-consciously and admitted it was a one-way station thus far, since she’d been too nervous to reach out to anyone.