What had possessed her to say that to Trevor? To ask him to go to Carmel?

What the—?

Her body had been taken over by some demon bent on keeping Trevor at her side. This was the only explanation for stupidity like that. Normally, she kept her cards close. She never let men in, and any reference to a future where they spent more time together was strictly never spoken of. She was a pro at this.

Her jaw clenched.

Trevor was her kryptonite.

Rebel sucked in a breath and took a moment to smile at Sebastian as he entered and thank him for taking over. She talked to him for a few minutes, showing him what meds she’d given Justin and guesstimating when he’d need his next antibiotic. She’d fed Justin his breakfast when he was awake, so that was taken care of, and he’d used the restroom. She felt okay leaving him for a while. And she was super grateful that everyone at the farm was stepping up and helping.

After a few final goodbyes to Sebastian, who assured her that he was on top of it, she walked out of the RV, determined to not obsesses about her relationship, or lack thereof, with Trevor. She vowed to keep her mind on important things—like Justin’s health and learning how this group of survivors lived, so she could take ideas from them back to Carmel.

When she’d arrived at the RV that morning with Trevor, Rebel had found Justin in much the same condition as the day before. Christian had spent the night with him. Justin’s fever was still high. The coughing was so severe he threw up spots of blood.

After they’d helped Justin to sit up and drink some water, Trevor had stepped out for a bit, and Christian left too to go feed the animals in the barn. While the two men were gone Rebel helped Justin take his antibiotics and pain meds and sat with him. They’d quietly talked about Christian and the farm for a few minutes until Justin was too tired to talk. They’d sat together, quiet, which was nice. His meds caused drowsiness, so of course Justin had fallen back asleep, which was probably for the best anyway since he was so uncomfortable. But at least he was still with her. This is what mattered. And his fever had stabilized and wasn’t as severe. Thank god.

Rebel adored Justin. She’d found him exactly when she’d needed someone. It had been terrifying at the end of the world, amidst all the chaos, wandering alone, driving down roads filled with abandoned cars and decomposing bodies, realizing she might actually be the last person left alive after the virus tore through the planet.

She’d found Justin in Santa Cruz when she was at the apex of her anguish and depression. Her bruises and cuts from the rape had still been visible. At least her sprained ankle had healed and she could walk correctly, but Justin had been horrified at her appearance. She hadn’t told him the whole story of her attack, she hadn’t been ready to talk about it, but he could tell she’d been through something traumatic.

She’d been sad after she’d healed, but she got better as she spent time with her new friend. One day she’d made a move on him, trying to kiss him on the lips, and he’d kindly moved his head to accept the kiss on his cheek instead. He’d gently told her that he adored her, but he didn’t feel that way about her sexually. He admitted he was gay. Not bisexual or any variation thereof, he was gay. He joked around, telling her that in order for him to have sex with her, he’d have to post a picture of Brad Pitt on the headboard.

Very definitely gay.

If she was desperate, wanting to find a partner, Justin was equally as desperate. Everyone wanted love, wanted someone to partner with, it was human nature. The chances of either of them finding someone had actually been slim. For all they’d known, they could’ve been the last two people on earth. Rebel had spent a whole week crying over that concept.

Over the last month she’d started to pull out of her malaise, trying to be a better friend to Justin. But neither of them had been as effective in building a future in Carmel as the group here at the farm. All of them were go-getters who worked together well. It seemed that right away they’d seen the need to look to the future and not wallow in the past and had moved forward. Rebel was really impressed. During her time here she meant to learn from them and to keep in touch after she left. She and Justin could learn so much. They could form two halves of the same group, one in the Valley and one on the coast. There was no reason why all the like-minded survivors had to live in one place.

But like Rachel often said, they had to stick together. She had a point. They could speak weekly over the radio to keep in contact. That would work.

Trevor stepped out of the RV ahead of her and into the warm morning.

Rebel stepped out too and slid on a pair of sunglasses. “Holy crap. How can you stand this? It’s so hot here! Trevor, in Carmel each day is a high of like, sixty-five or seventy degrees. This is crazy. Now I understand why you guys installed that extra air conditioner in the RV last night. That, plus the generator, seemed like a bit much, but yeah, it was nice in there, and out here it’s already warm. I’m afraid of what it’ll be like this afternoon. It’s got to be seventy already and it’s not even eight a.m.”

“It is. The thermometer read seventy, but it’s actually kinda cloudy with a breeze. Hopefully it won’t be so bad today. Last week it was averaging one hundred and eight each day. You’re lucky you missed that. Don’t worry, you get used to it. As long as you drink plenty of water and you have a place to cool down, you’ll be fine.”

He took her hand and pulled her across the front lawn toward the Victorian house. She realized she hadn’t yet been given a proper tour. As they walked she turned her head and took in the breathtaking scenery. The row upon row of orange trees and the peekaboo mountains behind the golden hills.

“Those mountains are beautiful.”

“They looked even better in the spring, when we first arrived. The hills were green and the rain cleared the air so the mountains were crystal clear. You could see the snow on top.”

“Hmm, now that the humans are all gone I wonder how long it’s going to take for Mother Nature to revert to normal. I wonder if global warming will just go away now that we’re all gone.”

“It’ll probably take a long time, considering all the nuclear power plants in the whole world are ticking time bombs about to go Chernobyl and radioactive acid rain might fall from the sky.”

Rebel stopped and looked up at him. She dropped his hand. “Thanks so much for that depressing forecast.”

“It’s true, we researched it. Without human beings to take care of them, eventually all the nuclear reactors will have meltdowns. That’s why we’re installing those greenhouses. We’re trying to cover and protect our food sources. Adam has stocked up on suits and Geiger counters and all kinds of other anti-radiation shit. We’re covered for when it happens.”

“Justin and I talked about this as a possibility, too, but he said that the power plants were far enough away, that what happened to them wouldn’t affect us. I think he’s right.”

“Maybe, and maybe not. They’re far enough away that you wouldn’t die in the initial blast, you’re right about that, and maybe you would be okay in Carmel. I don’t know. You and Justin should talk to Christian and Adam about it if you decide to go back. They can show you the maps and what they have and what they’ve done to make sure we’re safe. You guys should check your information against ours.”

He put his arm around her shoulder, drawing her in close. “This is another reason why I want you to stay here. You’ll be safe here, with me.”

She stood there in his arms, thinking about what he’d said. She was safe for now, until the unknown invaded and changed everything yet again. That was the hardest part for her, living under this new aura of fatality. When the virus hit, everything changed radically. She’d only recently learned to start adapting to that change. And now it could happen again. Just when you started to think everything was okay, it wasn’t.

She stood there on the front lawn, bewildered and uncertain.

“Come on,” Trevor said with a smile on his face, pulling her out of her internal funk. “Rachel, Adam and the others are expecting us.”

A couple hours later Rebel sat at a table with a group of people for lunch, her worries gone and happiness lightening her heart.

She’d been given a tour of the two-story Victorian. The first floor had a spacious, open kitchen and dining area, and there was a large formal dining room where they all sat. Then there was a den and a formal living room, an office and a downstairs bathroom. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and two more bathrooms.

After that tour she’d walked through the barn with the menagerie of pigs, cows, goats and wandering chickens. She’d successfully avoided the testy rooster Rachel had warned her about. Christian and Trevor had talked her into sitting on a stool with a pail and milking a cow, which she’d never done before in her whole life. In Rebel’s world, milk was that liquid white substance people drank out of plastic jugs that came from the supermarket.

The milking experiment hadn’t lasted long; she totally sucked at it. The cow mooed at her, probably irritated at the amateur who was pinching her all wrong. But hey, she’d provided plenty of entertainment for the two men, seeing as how they’d laughed so hard they’d had tears in their eyes. So there was that.

Then Trevor had taught her how to drive an ATV, which was super cool. She’d never driven one in her life. They started it and went out to drive the perimeter of the farm and found Adam and Sebastian fixing a fence out in what Trevor called “the north forty.”

“Why do you guys bother with the fence so much?” she’d asked Adam. “It’s not like you have to worry anymore about the neighbors or which part is your property or not.”

He’d explained that it was mainly to keep a barrier of some kind around the area that they lived in and to keep predators out, or make it more difficult to get in, and to keep their livestock enclosed.

That made sense.

On their way back Trevor showed her a small creek that cut its way across the property. Chickens ranged free. The water was inviting, the trees were shady. Like a park. It was a nice area.

Now she was in the main house again with everyone, eating and talking.

All of the survivors were seated around the large dining room table in the main house, eating a simple but filling meal of canned beef soup over white rice along with small bowls of canned fruit topped with crumbled bits of granola. There was even a tomato salad. It was surprisingly good…and beautiful. Rebel paused to observe and enjoy the mood, the vibe, the novelty of being amongst a group of people again, of being able to hear voices raised in conversation.

It made her giddy with joy. She’d gotten over that initial hurdle, that terror of the cacophony of voices. Now they were a delightful tinkle. Chords thrummed on a guitar. She could listen to this all day.

A lump of emotion formed in her throat. She found herself just staring at them. At their animated faces, the laughter, the hand gestures. Everything. Damn, she’d never take the companionship of other people for granted ever again. Having lived for the last three months either alone or with only one other person, terrified they were the last two living in the whole world, she was bursting with the feelings that were bubbling around inside. She wanted to cheer for humanity. Stand up and shout out her happiness because she was surrounded by living, breathing people again.

Instead she took a bite of food, trying to look calm.

“Well, yeah, actually if you want, there is a project you can help me with,” Rachel said, answering the question Rebel had asked. “There are the chickens here, protected in the coop by the main house,” Rachel continued with her explanation. “But there’s also a much bigger group of free-range chickens set up out near the creek, west of here, closer to the hills. They were there before us, started by the previous owners. There have to be more predators out here than there used to be before the end, because every time I go out there, the group of chickens is smaller and smaller. I could really use your help with taking care of those chickens and getting them moved in closer, protecting them. We really need to finish building a second hen house to keep them in before they’re all gone. I think it used to be fine for them to range out there with the smaller amount of predators that were in the area, but now that the humans are gone, the coyotes and cougars, I’m guessing, have increased already and are munching on those poor chickens like snack food. So I’d appreciate your help. Phoebe, Sebastian and I have our hands full with the cooking, cleaning, gardening and taking care of Josie.”

“Yeah, I can do that. By the way, this table is gorgeous, Rachel. Thank you for putting this together.”

Not only was the company wonderful, but the table was just beautiful, as if it had been staged. The lunch was served in actual matching serving dishes. Everything was set up exquisitely and with obvious care and deliberate attention. You’d think they were at Ina Garten’s or Martha Stewart’s home eating a gourmet lunch, not in a comfortable but decidedly middle-class farmhouse. There was a patterned runner than ran down the center of the rustic, rectangular table, with a cream, gold and coral floral pattern. Each place setting had glossy white plates and bowls with gold-patterned fabric napkins, and everyone drank out of crystal goblets. The silverware was substantial and heavy in Rebel’s hand. There were even tiny golden votives glowing on the table, and mason jars filled with daisies and sunflowers.

She appreciated it all so much, she couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off her face.

Trevor sat next to her, eating with one hand and his other resting possessively on her thigh. She loved watching him talk with the other men. The deep timber of his voice, the way he smiled at them, his rumbled laughter at a joke he liked. The manly glory of it all was blinding. She wanted to eat him up with a spoon.

All seven of them were gathered together here at the table: six adults and Josie. If she included Justin and Sebastian, who were in the RV, that made nine people here at the farm. In the last three months she’d only met eight people who’d survived the virus—in the whole state of California. Last she’d heard, California had had a population of 38 million people.

That didn’t bode well for the rest of the world.

“Oh, it wasn’t me. I didn’t set the table. Phoebe and Josie did. The only one of us here who knows anything about making things pretty is Phoebe.”

“Huh? Someone say my name?” Phoebe broke off her conversation with Josie from across the table. She turned her head toward them, and Rebel admired the sheen of Phoebe’s straight black hair and the porcelain perfection of her soft skin. She was a gorgeous, stylish woman. Rebel wanted to put Phoebe in her pocket and take her home with her.

“Rebel was just complimenting me on how pretty the table was.” Rachel grinned.

“Don’t worry, she told me it was you who created all of this,” Rebel cut in. “It’s beautiful, thank you for taking the time to make this special.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Phoebe answered. “I think it’s important that we still remember the beauty in life, you know? There’s no reason for everything to be drab. That’s just depressing. We’re lucky to be alive, to have survived the apocalypse. We’re starting a new life here, and there’s no reason why it can’t be nice. Why we can’t have a good life.”

Rebel took a deep breath and nodded. She’d gotten as far in Phoebe’s philosophy as the wanting-nice-things-around-her part, hence the house in Carmel, her clothes, the car she’d driven, but she hadn’t yet progressed to the part where she considered this “a good life.” Her old life was the good life, this was a pale rendition.

“So, how do things work around here?” Rebel asked. “Who lives where in the main house?” She was given a tour of the house prior to lunch, but she was still confused about where everyone lived.

“Rachel and I live here and sleep in the master bedroom,” Adam answered from down the table.

“They’re married,” Phoebe cut in, “so the rest of us decided to be nice and let them have the best room.”

Adam laughed and continued, “Yes. And there are three bedrooms total in the main house. Phoebe and Josie share a room, and Sebastian has the other bedroom.”

“There’s also an office downstairs, right there in a hallway off the kitchen. That’s where the radio is, and supplies and stuff,” Rachel added.

“And Trevor lives in the apartment. So where does Christian live?” Rebel asked.

“I live on the tour bus,” he answered. “I like the master bedroom there.”

“As you should,” Trevor responded. “You’re sleepin’ in Charlie Hanson’s bed.”

“It’s better than Lincon’s bed,” Christian quipped.

Rachel laughed.

“Well, that’s great,” Rebel answered honestly. “It sounds like you’ve all settled in here and started over. Everyone has their place.”

“Yes,” Trevor said. “And there’s always room for more.”

“Yes, that’s really important for you to know,” Rachel said earnestly. “We’re all really hoping that you and Justin will choose to stay and move in here with us. There’s plenty of space for the two of you. If you don’t want to live right here on the farm, we’d be happy to help you clear out a nearby house that you could live in instead.”

“Well, um…Justin and I had planned on visiting and returning to Carmel.”

Trevor’s hand tightened on her thigh. She turned her head and took in his hard stare, the frown on his lips. Shoot.

“I go where you go,” he said. “We’re a team. If you stay here, then I stay. If you go back to Carmel, then I’m coming, too.”

Her jaw dropped. She couldn’t believe he’d just said that. In front of everyone. She glanced around and noted that his friends seemed just as surprised as she was.

“Well,” Adam coughed. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. You and Justin can decide if you’re staying or not when he recovers,” Adam said. “Hopefully you can at least stay long enough to get to know us, give us a chance to convince you to stay so you can make an informed decision.”

“Um, yeah…” Rebel answered absently. Her mind was filled with the bombshell Trevor had dropped. He’d latched on to the idea that he could follow them to Carmel like a crab refusing to let go of a shell. Normally she’d be terrified, her mind filled with all the nopes, planning out her break-up speech. “It’s not you, it’s me.” But, weirdly, she discovered there was warmth in her chest. A smile on the corners of her mouth. She actually felt closer to him and loved (loved?) the idea that he wanted so desperately to stay by her side. It was actually very cute. This rough man, with all the tats, the beard and those blue eyes, leaning next to her, wanting her.

Of course she still didn’t trust the longevity of this. This was all still short term, hot and heavy right now, and in a couple of months he’d meet someone new. There were just so many things that could go wrong. He was wonderful now, but he would disappoint her later. This was inevitable.

“Hey, Rebel?” Rachel asked, breaking through her thoughts. “What did you and Justin do in Carmel to set up your life there? Do you have any tips for us? Things we aren’t thinking of? Tricks you’re using that we aren’t?”

“Uh…” she floundered.

Do?

How about nothing?

Compared to this group, she and Justin had been slugs. Well, she’d been a slug, not Justin. He’d always kept busy. She was the one who’d zoned out. Checked out of life. She’d been drifting, living without purpose for the last two months. Hiding in a mansion without a clue as to how to give up the past and move forward.

She used to be a triple threat: singer, dancer, and actor. She’d attended Juilliard, and starred on Broadway as Annie. She’d always worked hard at her craft. While other people slept, or partied, or vacationed…she worked. She’d been amongst the best at what she did, but what she did didn’t matter anymore. It was obsolete. Hollywood and Broadway were gone.

After Rome fell, the artists, actors, architects…they’d all fallen by the wayside too during the Dark Ages, their numbers decreased, their talents unneeded and forgotten because people in that part of the world were more concerned with survival than creativity. She figured that was her now, in that marginalized sector of unneeded skills, filled to the brim with useless knowledge and in need of a massive reeducation.

“Justin scouted, scavenged, set things up, planned, fixed things,” she answered. “I don’t know, he was always busy and I, um…well, I read books.” Her voice trailed off. Every romance book she could get her hands on. She’d read them all. She’d even found a box of old Harlequins in the attic of the house in Carmel. That had been a treasure trove. Books got her through the dark days.

“Oh, really?” Rachel brightened. “I like to read, too. I’ve been reading tons of non-fiction lately and trying to learn how to survive like it’s the eighteen-hundreds again. Want to see my library after we eat? I have a lot of fiction in there, too. There might be something you like.”

“A library? You’ve got a library here?”

“Well, I’m starting one. I’ve got bookshelves so far in our bedroom, in the front room, and in the office. There’s no internet anymore, so I’ve tried to collect a lot of books, but we really need a lot more. I’ll show you.”

“Speaking of no internet,” Christian said. “I think we should all observe a moment of silence for the death of the internet—” There was a general buzz of agreement around the table at his words.

“And cell phones,” Rachel interrupted. “I miss cell phones, too.”

Everyone murmured their agreement. Christian held out his hand for Phoebe and took Josie’s hand, too. Trevor smiled at Rebel in encouragement and took her hand. “We always do this,” he said, “talking about something we miss.”

Rachel held her other hand. Adam held Rachel’s. They all bowed their heads for a moment, until Christian proclaimed, “Amen,” and they all laughed and started standing, signaling the end of lunch.

And then they heard a knock on the front door.