The moment they made it out of Fresno and entered open land once again, Rebel felt the tension leave her body. Her grip on the steering wheel loosened. She was able to breathe easier with the death and destruction in her wake.

She followed Trevor tight through the rest of the freeway across the city and back into the countryside on the other side. They’d continued to pass the usual parade of wrecked, abandoned cars and decomposing bodies. Bodies that were liquefied, others that were nothing but bones and clothing, all now in advanced decay. It was the same the whole route. Car after car. Body after body. But, no more predators. And freakishly quiet. Nothing but the sound of their engines, and wheels crunching debris.

The freeway finally morphed into a road cutting east through the suburbs, and they continued heading closer across flat land to that enormous mountain range Rebel could see in the distance spanning north to south as far as the eye could see.

Yesterday morning she’d been taking in her last longing looks at the rugged edge of the Pacific Ocean at Point Joe on Pebble Beach Golf Course. Now she was on the other side of the state, looking up at one of the most imposing mountain ranges in the world. Yosemite was up there. Half Dome and El Capitan. And she knew if she drove for hours south she’d still be in the same state and hit Death Valley. Driving north would eventually bring forests of giant redwood trees.

California was pretty amazing. Still, even without the humans.

Pretty damn amazing.

Actually, a lot of things on the planet probably were happy the humans were gone. Natural habitats and animals were thriving because the humans weren’t there to hunt, crowd or dig things away. The towns and cities were already looking overgrown. The predators were already roaming the streets again.

Rebel turned her head and looked in her rearview mirror at the retreating city. Almost all the humans might be gone, but they weren’t done with Mother Nature yet. The humans had left a ticking time bomb—all those nuclear power plants.

She shivered. Please God, let that all work out. Please.

“Almost there.” Trevor’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.

A little over an hour after their terrifying run-in with the wolves, the RV turned right and lumbered into the long driveway of a farm on the edge of the San Joaquin Valley.

Rebel let out a sigh of relief, feeling like they’d reached shelter just before a storm.

Across the street from the driveway that lead into the farm, Rebel noted there was a granite boulder, just sitting there. It was taller than a man and lounging inside a grove of orange trees, like a toy left behind by a giant of old.

Weird.

The scenery here was nothing like the flat, fall-colored farmland they’d passed as they’d left Casa de Fruta and the coastal mountains and drove into the flat plain of the Central Valley. It was greener here next to the hills on the eastern edge of the valley, with more orchards and vineyards.

At the end of the driveway she could see a two-story yellow Victorian farmhouse and a red barn. There was also an enormous gray metal garage with three roll-up doors.

The farm sat on a magical grid of fruit trees and linear-lined grapevines, next to rounding hills that she knew eventually graduated into hilly oak trees and then rose up into a snow-topped mountain range.

It was peaceful here. She immediately liked the vibe. It was quiet and separate. Like it had always been that way. A person could move in and almost forget that there was no outside world anymore. Forget everyone was gone. Forget the cities were empty and slowly being reclaimed by nature.

I could pretend I chose to live out here in the country like this—not forced to live here because Ruyigi Ebola destroyed the world and I’m desperately trying to survive the aftermath.

She and Justin had moved into the mansion on 17-Mile Drive for that exact reason. It was sequestered from the cities, on the coast, as far from the corpses as possible. Well, not that far, it turned out. 17-Mile Drive was a popular place to live. Every square inch that could be used to build a house on was being used. But the house they’d moved into was smartly built in such a way as to give every room a Pacific Ocean vista and make it seem like they were out there by themselves. And they had access to supplies in Monterey and Carmel…

But she could see why these people had moved out here. It made sense. They’d be more self-sufficient, an island unto themselves. Growing their own food, having their own water and power. And, with more people in their group to share the load, there would be less need for any one person to go into the cities, amongst the piles of bodies, and creepy, empty buildings to scrounge for supplies. They could share those duties.

God, that would be wonderful.

Rebel shook her head, looking at the farm, at the yellow and white Victorian main house, the enormous gray metal garage, the red barn, the fences, the horses… Don’t get attached. This is a visit. She was here to make friends, meet new people, learn new tricks for survival, and then she’d go back from whence she came and try out those new tricks elsewhere.

And keep in touch.

That was the plan she and Justin had formulated, and she was sticking to it. They had no idea about the dynamics of this new group. There could be a million different reasons why these people would get on her very last nerve and why she would get on theirs. Just because they’d all survived didn’t mean they’d get along by default. It was best to plan for a visit rather than a long-term move-in situation. That way they could all get to know each other slowly and the honeymoon phase wouldn’t have ended by the time she and Justin left, and everyone would be happier that way.

But first she would need to help Justin recover and then convince him after he woke up and felt better and got to know everyone that their original plan was still the best. After seeing all this, he might want to stay, so she was going to have to do some serious convincing. And also…she hadn’t told Justin about the baby yet… He’d have to realize that changed everything.

Trevor parked the RV in front of the garage, next to what had to be Charlie Hanson’s tour bus. She snorted. She hadn’t seen it in ages, but she’d recognize that distinctive all-over black matte finish anywhere. She pulled the Mustang up behind the RV and cut the engine.

Rebel sat there for a moment then picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the button. “Trevor?”

No answer.

Shoot. She hadn’t thought to talk with him ahead of time about what to do when they met the other survivors. Darn, she always liked having a plan for that with men, a plan for keeping their relationship private. It made everything go way smoother.

Rebel turned her head and noticed a man and a woman step off the wraparound porch of the two-story Victorian farmhouse. Her heart beat crazily in her chest and her knees felt rubbery. She nearly swooned.

People. People!

Rebel stepped out of the car, her palms sweaty. She paused and glanced around, waiting for Trevor to step out of the RV and come and make introductions. She burned with curiosity. She’d lived the last two months like a girl banished to a nunnery, walking down silent hallways, introspective and solemn, depressed but living in quiet splendor. Now she was about to meet a group of real people.

Alive. Vibrant and healthy.

It had been so long.

The man was huge, muscular and Hispanic with bronze skin and short black hair. There was a military air about him, the way he carried himself, the hard face and assessing eyes. Rebel noted he was handsome and buffed-out, like he could’ve starred in an action movie or worked as a stunt double.

The woman with him had a smile on her face and her hand tucked inside the man’s possessive fingers. She was pretty, young and fresh-faced with long, dark, auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Was this Rachel? Was this man Adam, the man she’d spoken to on the radio?

Suddenly the young woman let out a squeal, like she couldn’t contain her excitement. She dropped the man’s hand and ran straight for her.

Rebel stiffened.

The young woman skidded to a stop in front of her, her eyes bright with delight. “Oh my God,” she said, panting and breathless. “My name is Rachel. And you’re…” Her eyes roamed Rebel’s features, like she couldn’t get enough. “You’re Rebel Case!” she shouted.

Rebel jerked at the exclamation, not used to loud voices anymore.

“Oh. My. God.” Rachel reached out and grabbed Rebel by the arms, shaking her. “It’s you, isn’t it? Am I right? Is it you?”

“Um, yes.” Rebel gave a jerky nod. “Yes, it’s me.” Shit, for the first time in her life she wished she weren’t. She’d give anything to be nice, normal Rebel Case, a complete unknown, a blank slate ready to be rewritten upon.

“Adam, look, it’s Rebel Case the movie star. She won two Golden Globes, a Grammy, and an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress this last year,” Rachel announced with glee. “Can you believe it? She survived the outbreak and we found her.”

“I see,” he answered carefully. “That’s great, Rachel. Now why don’t you let Rebel go? You don’t want to scare her away, do you? You just met her.”

Rachel glanced down, noting her punishing grip on Rebel’s arms and gasped. “Oh my gosh.” She dropped her hands. “Sorry, Rebel. Can I call you Rebel? I’m so sorry. I was just so excited to see you,” she gushed. “I was such a big fan of yours. I can’t believe you’re really here.”

Rebel rubbed her arms, trying to erase the puncture wounds. “Yeah, please, call me Rebel,” she answered with a wan smile, her normal composure entirely deserting her. She was tongue-tied and without the quick wit that had always been her constant companion in her old life. Usually she could bust out a day’s worth of interviews back to back without missing a beat, charming even the most skeptical of reporters, and loving the whole thing, and now…now she had nothing. Even this small conversation was proving to be her undoing. It was too much.

She bit her lip and glanced back at the RV.

Where was Trevor? She could use some help here.

“Because Rebel’s your real name, right?” Rachel continued. “It’s not a stage name, your dad named you that.”

Rebel’s brows furrowed. “Uh, yeah, that’s right, my dad did name me that.” Rebel Case was the name she was born with, the name on her birth certificate.

Rachel winked at her. “I read that in People magazine.”

“Oh.” Rebel was starting to feel uncomfortable, which was unusual. Normally, she’d find ways to connect with fans. She loved her fans. They were her reason for breathing, her bread and butter. They made everything possible and she was grateful for every single person who took the time to watch one of her movies. But her audience was dead. She wasn’t a movie star anymore. And the reminder hurt like a knife to the heart. Like an actual physical pain that was slicing her up, a pin prick at a time.

Rachel’s innocent words brought forth the question that wounded Rebel the most, the puzzle she’d been trying to figure out these last few months while living alone with Justin. If she wasn’t “Rebel Case,” the international box office phenomenon anymore, then what was she? Or better yet, what use was she in this new world?

“Give her some space, Rachel, she just got here,” Trevor grumbled as he finally rounded the corner of the RV.

Gratitude swept through Rebel like a tidal wave as she watched him walk toward her, making her breath hitch. Trevor smiled at her with his barely there beard and those dimples that still peeked through. She felt that now-familiar swoop in her belly. Dear God, he was magnetic.

“How’s Justin?” she asked immediately, trying to keep her head on straight.

“I just checked. He’s still asleep.”

“I need to go check on him too.” Her voice started to tremble. All the worries about Justin came crashing back down, along with a mess of knotted emotions she couldn’t even untangle about seeing and speaking with these new people

…and Trevor…

She swallowed, trying to figure out what to do about him.

She had no fucking clue how to proceed when it came to this mysterious man.

But Trevor made the decision for her. He moved close and placed a hand on the small of her back. She’d known him for a grand total of four hours, most of that time spent driving down the highway in separate vehicles, but like magic, he seemed to already know what she needed. She closed her eyes for a moment, luxuriating in his touch. He bent his head. His scent was calming. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured.

“I can’t help it, I’m worried about him…and…”

“Who’s Justin?” Rachel interrupted.

Rebel stiffened. She tried to move back from Trevor. Tried to create distance so their talking could be easily misinterpreted as friendship and nothing more. “He’s my friend and he’s sick,” she explained. “His name is Justin Williams. We’ve been traveling together since the end, and it’s been just the two of us ever since. We hadn’t found anyone else alive. He’s in the RV Trevor was driving. I’m really worried, though, because he woke up sick this morning, coughing really bad with a high fever. Trevor just checked on him and said he’s still asleep, but I need to go check on him, too.”

“Oh no, do you have medicine for him? We have medicine here.”

“Yeah, if you can think of anything extra to give him, that would be—”

“Rachel, Adam, are the new people here?” someone shouted from the barn. Rebel looked up at the excited words and watched the commotion. Two men, a woman, and a small child were walking over.

Her heart hammered in her chest.

A little girl?

She swallowed, thinking of her secret, of the new life growing inside of her.

Pregnant.

The back of her throat ached and she willed herself to remain strong. No tears. She’d kept the news from Justin yesterday, unable to deal with the enormity of it all. And she didn’t know what to think either. How was she going to have a baby in a post-apocalyptic world without doctors? She’d have to give birth—with Justin helping her? What did he know about childbirth? If that wasn’t scary enough, she wondered how she could possibly bring new life into this? This devastated world? How could she raise a child in a country full of dead people?

She wanted to cry. Her friend was sick and she didn’t know what to do, what direction to take, and all these people were suddenly pushing in too close.

Trevor’s hip bumped against hers. She glanced up, their eyes colliding, his mere presence chasing away her fears. She didn’t want anyone else close, but Trevor could stay as close as he wanted. A fissure of heat raced down her spine.

What if this baby were his?

She entertained that fantasy for a split second, letting it wrap around her like a warm blanket, wishing it were true. If Trevor were the father of her baby and if he was her man, nearby and steady, loyal, there to always watch out for her…

Reality crashed back down.

She was pregnant, and since two men had raped her, she had no fucking clue who the father of her baby was. But not that this mattered, she would be the mother, the protector. It was just…it would be nice to not have to go through this alone.

Trevor’s magnetic blue eyes delved into hers, loaded with concern. He wanted to help her, she knew that. He’d said outright that he thought she was his. That he wanted her to stay. But one thing was true—Trevor might be all over her now, but how long would he be there when he found out she was pregnant?

Her stomach was still flat, she wasn’t showing yet. Her waist was thicker than usual, but Trevor didn’t know that. She wasn’t throwing up yet, just needing power naps in the afternoon. It would be easy for her to continue to play this off for a few more weeks. But soon he’d find out and she’d have to tell him the truth. Tell him she was pregnant with another man’s child. And then she’d have to leave, because after all, how could a man want a woman who was pregnant with a rapist’s child? Her stomach turned sour. He couldn’t. No man would. They were wired that way. Men were notoriously fickle and unreliable. They said a lot, made a lot of promises in the heat of the moment. But, when the going got tough, they got going. That was a fact. She’d seen it enough in her life to know it was true. The only person she could rely upon was herself. She’d take care of herself and her baby. And she had Justin. He would help her.

This thing with Trevor was just a lovely affair, like many others she’d participated in. It was fabulous while it lasted. It would burn bright and then flare out. That was the way things always worked with lovers. Lovers were temporary. Friends were forever.

She’d stay a few weeks, allowing Justin to fully recover. Because she had to believe he would recover. She’d have hot sex with Trevor, because damn, the pregnancy was making her horny and he was hot and charming and she loved every moment she could spend with him in this rarified honeymoon-like phase. And afterward, she and Justin would go back home to Carmel.

That way she could slip out without having to admit anything to Trevor. They’d have off-the-chart, no-strings-attached sex. What man wouldn’t be happy with that arrangement?

After all, this baby wasn’t his problem, it was hers. He’d probably be relieved to have her go and not be stuck with a weepy, clingy, emotionally attached woman who put more into their relationship than there actually was. A woman who might then expect him to play father to her unborn child.

This wasn’t new to Rebel. This was how she’d set up all her relationships in the past. She liked to beat men to the punch, breaking things off first. That way there was no getting hurt, was there?

“Oh Rebel, here come the others. I’ll introduce you,” Rachel said.

The new members of their group stepped close. Introductions were made. She met the men, one who looked like a Bollywood star, and another who looked like a Kardashian, and a petite woman that Rebel guessed was Japanese-American with long, shiny black hair in a stylish halter-top maxi sundress. But Rebel couldn’t keep her eyes off of Josie, the little girl with gorgeous golden-brown skin, long caramel-streaked hair and a beautiful smile.

Again, they were all so excited to meet Rebel Case, the Movie Star. Gushing, stumbling over their words, vying for her attention. Her gut twisted. She smiled wanly but remained mostly quiet, not wanting the notice, the interest, wishing it would all go away. Because really, what the hell did it matter now that she’d made those movies? Won those awards? That life was gone. Gone.

Why even bring it up?

It. Was. Gone.

“Yes,” Rebel finally clipped. A group of seven strangers all talking at once suddenly seemed like too much noise. She felt like the Grinch and all that noise, noise, noise. A headache formed at her temples. “I was a movie star,” she snapped. “I won an Academy Award for best supporting actress in Transcendence last year, and a Golden Globe. Yeah, yeah. That’s all gone. Can we just forget about it, okay? What does it matter anymore, really? I’m just a survivor now, like everyone else.”

Everyone stopped talking. They darted worried glances at each other.

Shit.

Trevor took her hand and squeezed it.

She glanced up at him, into those blue eyes again, and took a deep, calming breath.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She looked back at the group. They stared at her like she was about to come completely unglued. And maybe she was.

Darn it. She’d just met these people and she was scaring them away.

It was just… Her mind flashed back to her old life, to all the good times, all the people she’d loved and lost, a life she missed so much, sometimes the grief brought her to her knees.

“I’m not a movie star anymore,” she tried again to explain, her words tumbling from her lips. “That’s all gone. I’m nothing special. I’m just Rebel, okay?”

“That’s fine, Rebel,” Phoebe, the pretty woman in the maxi dress, said in comforting tones. “I think it’s just a shock for all of us, seeing you at first. But you’re right, you’re just you, all that is gone now.”

“And we’re so happy you’re here,” Rachel chimed in. “Just you, Rebel Case, the person. Sorry, I was too much before. I’m calming down now, promise.” Her eyes were over-bright and she gave Rebel a tremulous smile.

Trevor wrapped his arm around her waist. Rebel sighed and leaned into his embrace. He pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head, keeping one hand possessively on her hip. Trevor obviously didn’t care if the others knew that something was going on between the two of them. In fact, he was letting them know with that kiss, putting his stamp of possession on her. This was completely unexpected. She was the master of the silent affair. The type you kept on the down low and secret from the crew. Secret from the press.

Oh well, if he didn’t care, then she didn’t either. Because nothing was the same. There was no one to hide from, was there?

She glanced up and saw everyone staring at her and Trevor with open curiosity and decided to break the silence and send out a peace offering. “Thank you, all of you, for understanding. It means a lot to me. Guess I’m not used to being around a group of people anymore. It’s a bit overwhelming.”

“Wait,” the tall Bollywood guy said. “Are you and Trevor…together?”

“Is Trevor your boyfriend?” Josie asked eagerly.

“Well, no, he isn’t, right?” Rachel asked. “I mean, you two are just friends, right?”

“I think they’re together,” Phoebe said with awe in her voice. “Like boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Rachel snorted. “They can’t be.”

“Why? Why can’t they be together?” Adam asked, sounding offended.

Rachel gestured at them. “Because…because he’s Trevor and…she’s…she’s Rebel Case.” Like it was obvious.

Rebel sighed. There it was. The number one reason why she always kept her affairs secret. No one could process the idea that sweet Rebel Case, their darling Rebel Case, liked to have sex. The dirtier the better. It blew their minds. They liked to place her in the box they’d found her in while watching her movies and keep her there.

Trevor squeezed her hand. “Rebel is my woman, in my bed.”

She nodded in agreement, but qualified, “While I’m here, visiting.” And for once it felt good to make that announcement. To be with someone and everyone actually knew. To have a man publicly claim her as his. This, she could get used to.

“Wow,” Rachel said. “I just never would’ve guessed Rebel Case…well, you know, your role in Transcendence, well, and all the other roles…you were just always…the good girl…and Trevor’s, well…”

A growl rumbled in Trevor’s throat.

“You know you’re doing exactly what she asked you not to do,” the guy who looked like a Kardashian said. Rebel had been told his name, but she couldn’t remember. She’d met so many people all at once. “You’re treating her like she’s a movie star and not an actual person,” he said.

Rachel smacked her palm against her forehead. “Dammit. I am. Sorry. I was just shocked. This is going to be hard for me. You’re not the roles you play, I mean, obviously. You’re you. If I do that shit again, call me on it. To be truthful, I’ll probably slip again in the future. I won’t mean to. Like I said, please call me on it. I’m sorry.”

Adam slipped an arm around his wife. “We all fuck up sometimes, baby. I’ll watch out for you in the future and call you out on your shit. No worries.”

“Thank you, honey,” Rachel pouted, and leaned her head onto his enormous chest.

“Let’s go check on Justin,” Trevor said, helping Rebel to get where she needed to be.

She smiled up at him, then over at Rachel. “I’m going to go in and check on Justin,” she said to her. “Would you like to come with me? Maybe you can give me a second opinion on how to help him?”

Rachel lit up. “Yes, I’d like that.” She turned her head toward the guy who looked like a Kardashian. “Christian, how about you come, too?” She looked back at Rebel. “He’s good to have along. He was a biologist, you know.”

Christian chuckled. “I worked with animals. I really don’t know that much about people, but we’ll try. Let’s go see him.”

Trevor squeezed her waist. She looked up into his face, that face that turned her insides to mush. God, he was so beautiful.

“You check on Justin,” he said. “And while you’re in there, I’m going to move the RV and park it on the side of the garage. It’ll be a good spot for it. It’s shady there.”

“Okay,” she told him. “That sounds like a great idea.”

He stepped away and started for the driveway. She watched him as he left. He’d been nothing but nice since the moment they’d met. It was going to be hard to leave him when her time here was over, she knew that already. But it was for the best. That way, she could remember him like this always. They’d both have nice memories of the good times and none of the bad.

Because with men, eventually it all went bad.