CHAPTER 4
Jinx leaned back in the seat of Dallas’s truck and enjoyed the breeze blowing in through her open window.
“Whew! Those gas masks are hot, huh?” Dallas wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.
Yes, they were hot, and currently stacked on the console between them, and she wasn’t sure they’d been any help at all. Still, once she’d gotten over the creep-factor in the deserted Walmart lit only by skylights, they’d had fun talking like Darth Vader in them. Leave it to Dallas, to know some construction supply company where they could get gas masks. Honestly, she wondered if they still even needed to use them. The guy on Doomsday Radio said the fever only lasted a day or two, but nobody knew how long the infected were contagious.
On the upside, Romeo and the other horses were doing fine at the ranch. They had water, green fields, and Dad’s guard donkey. So far it seemed to be working, and as Dallas had pointed out, there were fewer humans to worry about way up there, so she’d agreed to leave them.
As they left Walmart, she scoped out the hospital parking lot across the street. Jam-packed with cars parked every-which-way, and… Oh. She knew that old Willy’s Jeep. It belonged to her dad’s friend Ferdinand. How many other people did she know, just in that hospital? No chance anybody in there had escaped being infected. But they hadn’t had access to gas masks.
“We should go back up to the ranch,” she said. “If I wear one of those masks, I can go in the house and get my clothes. Right?” She’d grabbed a couple of things at Walmart, but geez, it’d be nice to have her own clothes.
Dallas shook his head. “Your dad’s probably in the house. Hopefully.”
“Yeah, so? Mask. No sicky.”
Still with the head shaking. “What are you gonna do if he comes after you, Jinx? Shoot? Run? Let him get you?”
“Get me. Pfffft. It’s my dad!”
“We don’t even know if he knows he’s your dad anymore.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. Damn. He had a point, but she didn’t have to like it.
“I’ll get the washer plugged into the generator when we get back to the house. We can wash your clothes and mine. Okay?”
“Sure.” She wouldn’t be a whiny girl about this. Most humans were dead or seriously handicapped now; she could deal with wearing her same two pairs of jeans for the rest of her life. She had to. They had a lot to do today, anyway, and didn’t need to spend another hour running back to the ranch. The clothes would still be there in a week, or even six months. Her dad might not be…but part of her didn’t want to see him sick and weird like those guys in the yard last night. Some questions were better left unanswered.
Something brown and black moved at the side of the road. “Hey! Stop. I just saw something.”
Dallas slowed. “Something like?”
“Like an animal. A little…” Puppy? “Black. And maybe brown.” She’d unbuckled her seatbelt and watched in her side mirror.
He stopped. “Raccoon probably. What you wanta see it for?” He backed up—not as fast as he had yesterday when she’d been on the roadside, but still pretty fast.
“Careful!” There it was. “Stop!” Not a raccoon. “It’s a puppy.”
“Puppy?” He killed the engine. “Wait. Could be infected. Or its infected mother could be here too.”
“It’s not.” She ignored his warning and got out. Poor little thing was so tiny.
Dallas came around the back of the truck. “I’ll be… Wow.” He scooped up the pup. Looked at its eyes. “I mean, they have dark eyes anyway, but…it looks okay. The light isn’t bothering it at all. You’re hungry though, aren’t you, baby?” He cradled it, and looked at its tummy. “A little girl.”
“You think German Shepherd?”
“Mmmhmm.” Dallas basically melted before her eyes. Turned into a puddle of mush. Which made her feel all mushy and melty too.
“I assume we’re taking her home, then?” She watched the weeds and brush for other dogs but saw nothing. Heard nothing, other than the breeze rattling the tall grass.
“Mmmhmm.” His eyes glazed over. “Shit.” He’d taken to full-on baby talk voice, even when swearing. “Just what we need. Another mouth to feed. But what’re you gonna do? Right?”
“Right.” She laughed. “Right. Want me to hold her, or should I drive?” The puppy seemed relieved to have found another living thing and tried suckling at his hand.
“Hmmm? Oh. Get in and I’ll hand her up to your lap.”
Finally—her turn with the little ball of sweetness. “Poor baby. Poor orphaned babyhead.” The pup licked her hand, nudged her palm, looking to eat.
“Guess we better make a stop at Ranch Supply. See if we can find milk replacement for her, and maybe a little bottle? Or you think she’ll figure out a bowl?”
“Bottle would be good… And we’ll need a collar, leash, puppy food for when she’s ready. Toys…”
“Christ on a crutch. What’d we get ourselves into?”
The back of the truck was already piled high with totes they’d filled at Walmart. All sorts of supplies. They had a long day ahead of them, but they also had…a puppy. Things were looking up, even if the world as they knew it had ended.
* * * *
Jinx stopped, peeked out the kitchen window on her way past with an armload of dry pasta. Dallas was in the back yard digging a hole to bury that pile of rotten food from the fridge so the sick guys wouldn’t show up again. And—lucky day for her—he’d taken off his shirt.
Yowza. Did he know what he looked like with his shirt off?
Knowing Dallas, no. He didn’t. From what she’d heard, he hadn’t exactly turned out to be a player. In fact, she couldn’t recall hearing about him dating at all since he’d quit rodeo. He’d dated plenty in high school—up to and including that little monster Leanne. After graduation? Hmm. Not that she could think of. He’d definitely been with a girl graduation night, though. Whew. Heat flashed over her, and she set the stack of pasta on the counter so she could wipe her brow. “Hot in here,” she muttered.
He’d broken a sweat and the muscles of his back rippled under his slick, dark skin. Huh. No farmer’s tan for him. Did that mean he’d spent time at cow camp running around shirtless? Nobody around to see him except the livestock. Lucky cattle.
To be fair, at least they wouldn’t screw up with him like she had.
“Water under the bridge.” She scooped up the load of noodles and headed for the pantry.
Raw luck, surviving the end of the world only to get paired up with the Hottest Guy who was also Least Likely to Want Her. Crap. She slammed a box of bowtie pasta on the shelf. Better take it easier on the spaghetti or it’d be all broken in tiny pieces.
God, she hadn’t thought about that night in…well, awhile. It came up in her dreams more often than she’d like. But in broad daylight? Dallas was busy outside, and she’d left the puppy sleeping in an open tote in the living room with an old afghan in the bottom. So she let herself slide down the wall to the floor of the pantry, her arms curled around her knees. Dallas.
He’d been about all she could think of after Prom. Before that night, he’d just been another cowboy at the rodeo, one she’d known when he’d had that giant gap from lost baby teeth, during the gangly stages of puberty, those gross days of scraggly mustaches all the boys tried to grow in early high school. Nothing cute or interesting, other than his exceptional roping skills. But he’d stood up for her. In fact, he’d somehow made Leanne come up with money to cover the cost of Jolene’s dress and new rodeo boots, too. He never told her how he’d done it, but seeing Leanne hand over that fat stack of cash had been one of the best moments of her life. So he’d become a larger-than-life, hot and sexy, superhero-slash-cowboy in her mind. That kiss in her open car door…she figured even if he hadn’t stuck up for her in the school, the kiss would’ve been enough to make her think of him day and night.
When he’d texted and invited her to the party he was throwing graduation night, she’d felt like the princess in a Disney movie. She still didn’t know where she’d got the courage, but she’d texted back,
Sure, I’ll be there. As your guest? Or date?
Before she could chicken out, she’d sent it.
His immediate,
Date.
left her wondering whether he’d intended that all along or if she’d given him the idea. Either way, her heart had raced and she’d had butterflies. Even now, thinking of it, she still got fluttery inside.
She was going on a date with Dallas Miller, her heartthrob. As she’d fantasized about it for the next week, she known one thing: even though she’d rejected Joel’s post-Prom plans—and thus refused to go with him at all—if Dallas wanted to do “it,” she would. Who better to be her first? Besides, she’d be a high school graduate. It was time for her to give up that V-card.
So she fed her dad a story about spending the night at her bestie’s house, dressed in her favorite, most sparkly Miss Me shorts, a tank with cute leather laces, and the new boots she had thanks to Dallas, and she went. His parents were off at some music festival, so he’d invited most of the senior class to their ranch.
The party didn’t disappoint, and neither did Dallas. He held her hand from the minute she got there, mingling past groups of kids, and, sitting close on the tailgate of his truck as the bonfire flickered on faces across from them, he’d put his arm around her shoulders.
Her heart had skipped a beat when he asked if she wanted to go for a walk down by the river.
“Sure,” she’d breathed. Or maybe she’d only thought it, but she still remembered those dark-as-night eyes of his staring back into hers as Say Something came on the portable speaker. The song they’d danced to at Prom—this was meant to be.
Once they’d been out of sight of the crowd, he’d stopped behind a tree and pulled her close. Her heart probably hadn’t beat since they’d left the tailgate; she felt dizzy from not breathing. His lips were warm, strong, determined. He tasted like Pepsi, and a little Jim Beam or whatever the guys had been spiking their drinks with. She leaned into him for support, loved the feel of him, pressed closer. Warm, strong hands cupped the sides of her face and he sucked in a deep breath.
“Whew!” He let the breath out and in the moonlight she saw him catch his upper lip between his teeth.
She liked that he seemed as overwhelmed as she felt.
Music drifted from the party through the woods, and while he kept staring at her, Lonestar’s Amazed started playing.
She loved that song. “Somebody’ll be changing the music in a second,” she guessed.
“No, they won’t. It’s on Bluetooth from my phone, locked in my truck.”
“Oh.” Had he known that song would be on right after the one from Prom?
He grinned down at her. “The playlist is called For a Hot Cowgirl.”
God, was he smooth! “I saw one of those last summer at the state fair.”
As he looked away at the moon, his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You hear about that new restaurant on the moon?” he asked in his joke-voice. “The food’s okay but there’s just no atmosphere.”
“God, what a dad-joke.” But she couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“Your smile is so pretty.” He went all serious, his eyes wide and then closed when he kissed her again, this time longer, deeper, his tongue warm on hers until he paused again, his forehead against hers. “Tasty, too.”
Ha. Tasty smile. What a goofball thing to say. She loved it.
“Is it working?” he asked. “The playlist? You feelin’ all seduced by my mad music-selecting skills?”
“Crap. I thought I was doing the seducing.”
Another bout of kissing and his hands slid down to her butt, pulling her tight into him. “You just fit,” he whispered, barely loud enough over the thundering in her ears.
She couldn’t answer, didn’t want to. His mouth on hers. His everything on hers, was all she wanted. A sound came from her throat—moan? Growl?
He shivered against her. “Jinx.” Against her neck, he breathed, “I want you.”
“Have me.” She didn’t think twice; didn’t need to. He was what she’d been waiting for.
They’d hurried to what he called “the guest house,” an old but clean single-wide trailer his parents had lived in when they were first married, before his grandparents died.
Though she’d expected a teenage guy to be fast and not so skilled, he’d taken a long time building her up. He’d made love to her. When he first touched her there, heat arced all through her, and when she first touched him, the sound of his breath catching sent that same needy heat rolling over her in waves. Wearing a condom he’d grabbed from the nightstand, he’d slid inside her, caught, pushed past the edge of heat into pain she’d heard of but hadn’t expected. She shuddered, bit her lip, hoped he wouldn’t see the tears her eyes brimmed with. Maybe if she kept them closed…
“Jinx? What’s… What the… Fuck.” He pulled back out, but it still stung. “You’re not a virgin.” Not anymore. “You told me you weren’t—”
“Not what I said.” Sure, she’d misled him at Prom when they’d talked about Joel. She hadn’t wanted to own the tired old story of the virgin unwilling to give it up to her boyfriend because she didn’t feel he was the one.
“Jesus, Jinx. I wouldn’t have—”
Yeah, she’d been afraid he wouldn’t. That’s why she hadn’t told him. Too many guys were afraid of virgins. “It’s okay. Just…keep going.” She’d dug her heels into his butt, urged him back to her. “Please.”
“Sorry I hurt you.”
“You didn’t. It’s just how it is for girls.” She pulled him down to her again, afraid if they waited much longer she’d hurt too much and not want him back inside her.
He finished, but she could feel his reluctance, his body stiff and sorry. She waited until he fell asleep and then she tiptoed from the room, dressed in the dark living room and left. A few partiers were sleeping in tents around coals of the bonfire when she snuck past to her car and drove away.
The next day, she heard people were saying she and Dallas had hooked up, but he swore they’d only “hung out,” and she hated it.
He didn’t call, he didn’t text. But neither did she. She figured he must be pissed at her for lying about her experience—or lack of it. She had misled him, and she felt like an ass for it. Next time they were at the same rodeo, she avoided him. And made a habit of it from then on.
* * * *
Dallas wandered through the house, counted eight totes of groceries they still had to put away, saw the puppy sleeping—stopped to watch her for a few seconds. She was pretty skinny, but with a few days of eating regular, she should fill out. Damn, what a cutie—didn’t see Jinx in the kitchen but she was halfway through a tote of dried goods. The place was so damn quiet, sometimes he felt like life’s soundtrack had been turned off, but the film just kept rolling. Not a sound in the house, aside from Annie’s soft breaths in and out.
“Hey, Jinx!” he yelled on his way to check for her in the pantry.
A few clunks and thwacks came from that direction, and when he got there he found her upright but had the impression she’d just stood. Weird. Had she tripped and fallen down or something? Her face and chest were flushed, and she was breathing fast. And her nipples…he should look away. A better man would. But… Whoa. Those suckers were out there.
“Er. Hey.” She smoothed her hands down the front of her jeans, turned her back to him. “Just…putting away the spaghetti.”
Instinct told him to make a smart remark about hiding the salami—something about her made him think “sex”—but he went with common decency instead. “Uh. I switched the generator over so we can run the washing machine, if you’re ready.” He stared at her ass because he could, without being caught, waiting for her reply. She had on a pair of worn jeans she’d taken from her saddle pack and he liked looking at the dark ring around the edge of where her butt met the saddle.
“Um. Okay. I’ll…finish with these noodles and then go grab my laundry.”
“Pup’s out cold, huh?”
“Yeah.” She faced him with a gentle smile. “I let her eat just a little again, to make sure it wasn’t too much for her tummy. Then she conked out.”
“Guess we’ll have to think of a name.” He’d thought of one, but…
“Any ideas?” she asked, reaching to a high shelf. Her shirt rode up and he got a nice show of her middle.
“Well.” He shrugged. “She is an orphan, so…”
“Annie?”
Just what he’d been thinking. “Yep.”
“That’ll be good for a baby and when she’s a sweet grownup girl, too.” One last box of noodles on the shelf and she stopped, covering her face with her hands. “This is stupid. What good is any of this pasta with no cheese? We’ll never eat cheese again!”
“Should we even plan to go on?” He joked, but then realized… “Shit. Pizza. No pizza.” Ever?
“Without pepperoni, sausage, cheese… Ham. Ugh.”
Damn. He always looked forward to having pizza when he came down from cow camp. Had forgotten about it this time. Since the power had been out for days, they couldn’t even scavenge any frozen pies.
She pulled her hands from her face, shook her head, looking sad. “So I’ve been thinking…chickens.”
“Cheese doesn’t come from chickens.”
“No shit.” She play-punched his arm. “Dad’s neighbor has a bunch. We might never see dairy products again, but we can have fresh eggs if we catch some of those hens and bring them down here.”
“Might be able to nab a cow from the dairy up the road, too. If their calves are in with them, they’ll still have milk.” But they’d need a safe place for all this livestock, especially at night. He’d decided all the horses had to go in the barn at night from now on. He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna need to drive up and check on the cattle soon too. And figure out a way to keep them safe once we bring them back here. Which needs to be in a week or two. It’ll start freezing up on the mountain and they won’t have any feed.”
“Like, what are you thinking? A bigger barn to put them all in at night?”
He was thinking of a fence. A tall one. “I’d like to put something around the whole property—if those guys decide they want in here one night, all they’ve gotta do is throw a rock through a window.”
Her face paled. “Comforting. What kind of fence will keep out people?”
Visions of prison fences with razor wire on top came to mind. But he had no way of making something like that. “Don’t know yet. I imagine they could get over just about anything we could build. It’s more about making it easier for them to go somewhere else instead.” It would be hard for the sick to see what they were doing in the dark of night and with eyes they couldn’t focus. A tall pole fence, maybe, with vertical sheets of corrugated steel roofing? Could he get his hands on that much of the steel? How long would that fence take to build, anyway?
“Do you think as time goes on, more of them will…” Her voice broke. “Die? I mean, winter will be hard for them, right?”
Shit, her eyes. Tears. “Maybe… Shhh. No. Dammit. Jinx.” He had her in his arms, her face against his shoulder before he thought better of it. “Maybe they’ll come up with a cure before winter. Yeah. I bet that’s what’ll happen.” It had to happen. His parents, his sister and her little boys…even that asshat she’d married. This epidemic had to end, and he’d only consider it ending right.
“My dad. He’s all,” she sobbed, “alone. How will he stay warm? What will he eat?”
Assuming the guy had even survived the illness, it was hard to guess. How did people feed themselves when they couldn’t see stuff within arm’s reach? No wonder they went scavenging and hunting. He tried not to think of his folks out there somewhere between Kansas and home, in unfamiliar territory. “Shhh.” He smoothed a hand over her hair. Her tears had soaked through to his shoulder. “We’ll take him some food, okay? Tomorrow, we’ll go up and rustle some chickens, take your dad a picnic basket of…something. Leave it on the front steps, knock or ring the bell and tell him it’s there. Alright?” He hated parting with the food they’d pilfered, but they were healthy. They could hunt and grow food. Possibly wasting some of their stash would be worth the cost, if it’d make her feel better.
She nodded against him. “’kay. Thanks. But it’s your food too. You shouldn’t have to part with it. I’ll eat less to make up for it.”
“I doubt we’re gonna starve.” He looked at the shelves bulging with dried goods. “It’ll be a miserable existence without pizza, but we’ll make it.” Her half-giggle encouraged him. “I’ve got mad fishing skills and the river is practically just out the back door.”
“Ah. Pasta and trout. The diet of survivors.” She wiped her eyes and lifted her head from his shoulder, looked up at him.
“Hey, there was an upcoming cheese shortage anyway. Didn’t you hear about that explosion in the French cheese factory?” It was an oldie, but maybe she’d smile. “Nothing left but de Brie.”
“Ugh.” She pushed away from him, fighting back a grin. “The future of mankind: puns.”
As she walked away, he watched that ring on the back of her jeans and couldn’t help thinking if they were the future, they’d have to reproduce, which meant they should—
“Get your laundry together, Dad-joke,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the washing machine in five.”
* * * *
They barreled through the back door, arms loaded with piles of clean but damp clothes they’d rescued from the line, as waves of rain poured down.
Jinx used the heap in her arms to wipe water from her forehead, then dumped the clothes on the coffee table. “Geez. That was just in the nick of time.”
Dallas dumped his pile in his dad’s recliner and followed her lead, draping the clothes over furniture and shelves to finish drying. The first thing he picked up was, of course, a nifty hot pink thong.
Jinx snatched it away and tossed it to the couch. “That’s dry.” While she sifted through her heap for the rest of her underwear, he watched. “Seriously?” She threw a pair of his jeans at him. “God. I know you’ve seen panties before. And what they cover,” she muttered at the end.
Mmm. He had. But it’d been a longass time, especially since he’d seen what hers covered.
“Even if you have been living like a hermit lately.” She hung one of his work shirts over his mom’s potted palm.
Wait. What? “Hermit? It’s cow camp, Jinx. Somebody’s gotta do it. Besides. I see people. In the fall and winter.”
“What people?” she demanded.
“People.” He opened and closed his mouth like a dumb fish. “Just…people.” She didn’t need to know who he did what with. None of her damn business. That’s who.
She huffed. Making it clear she was mentally calling bullshit.
“Maybe I don’t see as many as you do,” he said, watching the way she felt a pair of his underwear to see if they were dry.
“Oh! Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
He’d heard stories. Oh, he sure had. Not that he wanted to. He’d rather not hear about any of her adventures or who she’d been on them with. “Come on. I travelled the circuit for a year, remember? Don’t tell me guys aren’t hitting you up at events.”
She dropped the next pair of his underwear on the floor. Stepped on it as she came closer. “And I suppose you think I just fall into bed with every set of Wranglers and spurs that comes my way, huh?”
She’d done it with him. He wisely kept that thought in his head, but her whole face puckered.
“That’s exactly what you think. Grrrr!” Now she moved away from him, back to the pile, where she wadded up a t-shirt of his. “I wasn’t overcome by a sudden urge to be with you, Dallas. It was premeditated.” She flung the shirt at him.
He caught it and tossed it onto the chair pile. Why did she say shit like that? Premeditated. What the blue hell did she mean?
“Well, you act like I was some kind of slut—”
“Clearly you weren’t.” He couldn’t help himself, and he didn’t want to. Time to address the monkey in the room or the white elephant on his back or whatever the hell it was.
She blushed. Actually turned that peachy color. Growled again. Scooped up her pile o’panties and turned toward the hallway. “I’m not now, either. Going to shower.”
He watched her disappear down the hall wearing those big baggy pants of his mom’s, which she’d put on so she could wash all her other stuff. Last night it had seemed like a good plan to give her loose clothes so he wouldn’t have to see her shape. What a stupid idea. Maybe not as stupid as antagonizing her, though.
Annie whimpered at his feet, so he lifted her up, rubbed her fuzzy little head against his cheek. “Yeah, I know, baby. Looks like we’d better hang up the rest of these clothes and figure out what’s for dinner.”
* * * *
The watermelon they’d brought home was fine, but the cantaloupe had gone over. Not much other produce had been left in Walmart, though. Looked like the infected had been partying hard there at night. The place was disasterized. He’d brought in tomatoes and cucumbers from Mom’s garden, and tomorrow they could eat squash if they wanted. Tonight they had tuna sandwiches—making use of the bread before it got old or moldy—sliced tomatoes, and fat wedges of watermelon. They’d decided if they cooked any hot meals it should be for breakfast or lunch, so the smell wouldn’t carry and bring in unwelcome visitors. At least, until they could build a security fence.
Jinx didn’t seem mad at him anymore, and once they’d cleaned up supper, they still had a couple hours of daylight. Rain poured outside so he didn’t think many sickies would be out and about looking for food, but it was hard to tell. He didn’t plan on testing his theory by going to bed before dark, only to wake up and find some infected dude inside the house.
“Guess it’s good I went out to brush Korbel and check on him earlier.” She scowled at the window. “Stupid rain.”
He bit his lip to keep from laughing at her looking pissed, standing there in a Broncos sweatshirt and Broncos pajama pants that didn’t go together, and it looked like she had on the Broncos tank top underneath. At Walmart, she’d grabbed a stack of teamwear on their way to the grocery section. It did sort of suck that she only had a few of her own clothes. But this was more entertaining for him. Seemed like she’d grabbed a lot he hadn’t noticed at the time. She had several new bottles of stuff in the shower and a stack of packages of razors under the bathroom counter, which interested him more than she’d probably like. Also, other girly hygiene items he’d rather not know about.
She grabbed a warm bottle of Lipton tea from the counter and cracked it open. “We need a fridge.” She crossed her arms over the fluffy sweatshirt.
They had one, but…
“We need power to it,” she said. “If we get eggs, a dairy cow… What about leftovers, like if we make a big pot of stew or something? The garden stuff… And wouldn’t it be nice to have a cold drink now and then? Ice? If we butcher a steer, we’ve gotta either make it all into jerky or wait ‘til the dead of winter so it can freeze in the barn. Who has some solar panels we can swipe?”
“Whoa. Whoa. I worked for Robinson Solar those summers in high school, remember? Talked Dad into putting solar on the barn because I got it at cost, but he wouldn’t spring for battery backup. He just sold what he produced back into the grid. He figured as rare as power outages are around here, we could get by with the generator and the couple batteries it charges.” Some irony there, considering they were probably in the middle of the longest power outage ever.
“What does that mean? We can run a fridge in the barn during the day?”
“It means we don’t need solar panels—just a bunch of batteries.” They had a few up at his grandpa’s hunting cabin, maybe enough to keep the fridge going except for those super cloudy, short days during the winter. “We can figure that out. First things first, though. Tomorrow we rescue chickens and hopefully a dairy cow and calf. We’ll have to come up with a chicken coop eventually but for now they can nest in the barn at night. And we’ll have to build some sort of milking stall for the cow probably. You ever do that? Milk a cow?”
She wrinkled her nose. “I think. On a field trip. The neighbors had a goat they milked to feed their 4-H lambs. I milked her a few times when they were out of town.”
“We can put off milking her for awhile I think, as long as the calf is around to keep her producing.”
“Let’s play a game.” She set down her bottle of not-iced tea.
He gave her the ole brow-jump. “What game? Truth or dare?”
“Ha. Not on your life.” She brushed past him, down the hall to the built-in shelves where Mom kept the board games.
“Okay…” Sounded like she had something in mind. “You choose tonight, and tomorrow I get to pick.”
“Again, ha! Don’t get any big ideas about poker. Especially strip poker.” When she came back to the kitchen, she had Battleship in her hands.
“You do realize I’m the number one player in the world? You probably don’t know this but I’m the unpublished Guinness Book record holder in Battleship.”
She shrugged, opened the box and took the red console. “Doubtful, but you can’t beat me anyway. I took Olympic gold in Battleship. Team and individual.”
“Team?” As if. Whatever, he’d show her. “What are we betting?” Money didn’t seem much of a commodity anymore.
She curled a lip. “Chores?”
Screw that. “Chores are for chumps.” He turned to the cabinet above the fridge. Yep, that’s what he’d been looking for. He grabbed the bottles and showed them to her. “Drinking Battleship.”
Immediately, she shook her head.
“You sink my ship, I drink.” He held up the bottle of Crown. “I sink your ship, you drink. Look, we’ve even got Fireball, beloved whiskey of girls all across the land.”
Jinx rolled her eyes. “Okay. I agree to your terms, only because I plan to wipe your ships off the ocean in record time.”
He pulled two shot glasses from the corner cupboard and set one next to each liquor bottle. They could both stand to let go of the constant stress and worry, at least for an evening.
And so it began.
She kicked his ass that first game. He’d only taken out one of her ships—the big one with five holes—when she’d obliterated his fleet. But she agreed to play again, and his luck changed. She sat smiling between games two and three while he warmed Annie’s milk and fed her.
“Game three is mine, buddy,” she announced when the puppy snoozed happily in his lap. “Utilized that intra-mission to come up with a killer str- stragety.”
Heh. He’d had eight shots to her six, but they were clearly hitting her. “Mm-hmm.” Dark had fallen, so he’d closed the blinds and turned on the battery light at the table. He turned to get better light on his game board and jumped at a Crack! Shit. He looked at his pieces to see if one had dropped. Crack!
“Guns. Shit!” Jinx bopped the switch on the lantern and ducked under the table.
Guns?
“Dallas. Down.” She tugged his leg. Annie had startled at the first shot, sliding off his lap into Jinx’s waiting arms.
He followed them to the floor, feeling goofy. “They’re out at the highway, not here.” Now that he thought about it, the rain had stopped or they couldn’t have heard the shots.
Another shot, this one from a larger weapon, and a faint wail carried to his ears. Not one wail, either. A group of people wailing in unison. Chills and goosebumps broke out on his skin.
“Somebody’s shooting other somebodies.” Jinx pressed the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh God oh God oh God.”
A motor revved and a loud whoop sounded over the wails. Whoever had been shot, they’d be missed by a pack of people who loved them. They weren’t animals. They might have to live like them for now in order to survive, but that’s what humans did, right? They survived ice ages and plagues and mass extinctions. And humanity moved forward.
“Shh. Easy.” He put an arm around Jinx as more shots echoed through the night. “Easy.” He didn’t know what monsters were out driving around, physically well but mentally demented, shooting the helplessly sick. He sucked in a deep breath. His gun was on the table, within reach. He’d defend himself, Jinx, and their puppy, if he had to. The revved engine faded off into the distance. With luck, the killers were gone for the night.
“God, this freaking sucks,” she said against his shoulder. “This whole stupid thing sucks. Why? Why did any of this happen? And why did we live through it, for this?”
She was really losing her shit. He needed a distraction. Leaving her side, he knelt and grabbed both bottles from the table. “I think it’s time we had a send-off for Life as We Knew It.” He shoved the Fireball into her hands. “I’ll go first. RIP, pepperoni pizza.” He tipped up his bottle of Crown and drank. A little.
Jinx eyed him. “You’re tryin’ to get me wasted.”
“Beats sitting here scared.”
She smirked. “Yup. Okay-right, then. RIP, Lean Cuisine.” She drank.
“Seriously? You’re gonna miss those, when we’ll never get another fresh pineapple?” He drank.
“Oh. Pineapple. Valid. How ‘bout avocados? Guacamole, you are history.” She tipped up her bottle and gulped.
“Citrus, you will be missed. We’ll always love you, oranges, grapefruit, lemons, limes.” Key lime pie. So sad.
Jinx stopped her bottle on the way to her mouth. “Oops. Not my turn. But ya know, you can grow lemons inside. We jus’ need a sunny room with a tall ceiling. I can grow things. My dad’s got a lil greenhouse and he taught me some stuff.”
“Good to know.” They clinked bottles. “RIP, bacon and ham.”
“Salami,” she added. They both drank.
“Wieners!” He laughed.
“Dirty mind. Are you premedicating?” She acted serious, then cracked up.
“I think we both are, sweets.” And premeditating too. Not that anything fun would be happening tonight. For one thing, she was too tipsy for him to feel right about it. But he wouldn’t be able to give her his full attention when maniacs were driving up and down the highway shooting sick people. And, oh yeah. There was that other reason he wouldn’t get naked with her again. What was it again?
“Dallas?” She set her bottle down, held her hand to her mouth. “I think…I shouldn’t drink any more, anymore.”
“Yeah, me too. Let’s see if we can make it to the couch and hang out there like we did last night, huh?”