Love at the End of the World

by Christiana Miller

  Kyle and Tyler shook their heads.

  “No,” Kyle said firmly, sounding impressively like a man in charge. “You leave. Now.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Okay,” the leader said. “I see you’re a shrewd negotiator. My final offer...we kill you both, along with any other cowardly men you have hidden, and keep your women.”

  “Final answer,” Kyle said. He paused, staring at the leader as if waiting for something. Then he said firmly, “Finish it.”

  As the men pulled guns and leveled them at Tyler and Kyle, Jo’s heart thundered with fear. Her puny little .22 caliber was no match for the nine millimeters these anarchy rejects held, and she was trying desperately to think up Plan B.

  Before she could blink, shots rang out from all over. Kyle and Tyler ducked and ran for cover as the rest of the newcomers opened fire upon the truckers, taking them completely by surprise. One moment they were alive, and the next, they all lay in a bloody heap on the ground.

  “Holy hell,” Jo muttered. “What just happened?”

  Arnold came out, holding a hunting rifle with a scope on the top. One by one they all emerged, each person holding a gun of some type. Shocked, Jo looked at Luke, whose eyes were wide.

  “Come on out, guys!” Kyle called. “Luke! Jo! It’s over.”

  Perplexed, Jo left the protection of the library and joined the rest, with Luke and Casey behind her. She looked at the dead bodies of the men who had threatened them, unable to process what had transpired in a matter of minutes.

  “You gonna do that to us?” Jo asked, staring at the dead men.

  “Of course not,” Arnold said firmly. “We protect what’s ours, and now Greenway is ours. Our new home.”

  He held out a hand to Luke, and after a second, he accepted the gesture. The two men shook hands, and cheers erupted around them. Dazed, but completely blown away by the actions of Arnold’s people, Jo had to wrap her mind around the last few minutes.

  She didn’t know if she felt secure or scared, but one thing was certain, she realized she did them all a disservice by prejudging them. She supposed time would have to tell.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  Jo sat at her office desk, writing up the last inventory report. Tyler and Kyle planned another run in the morning, and she wanted to be clear about what supplies the medical center needed.

  In the past few months they’d allowed some more families within the Greenway community, and with winter settling in, she wanted to make sure she had enough cold and sinus medicine in case sickness arose. Of course, it wouldn’t be long until the pills reached their expiration date, but from now until then, she had time to research which plants she’d have to transition into medicine.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she looked up to see Luke standing there, arms folded across his muscular chest. His magnetism still managed to take her breath away.

  “You know what today is?” he asked.

  She looked over at her handmade calendar. “Um, October twelfth.”

  “It’s our six-month anniversary.”

  Jo blinked. “Huh?”

  “Six months since we first met.”

  She thought back. “Oh, okay. Great.”

  He chuckled and stepped into the room. “Not a romantic, eh? No problem. I can be romantic enough for both of us.”

  He held out his hand, and when she took it, he pulled her to her feet and into his arms. Butterflies flipped in her stomach as he bent and kissed her, that familiar flare of excitement igniting. He always did this to her, made her blood heat up until she wanted him with an urgent desperation.

  “Oh God, will you two stop!” Casey huffed.

  They broke the kiss and turned to see her in the doorway, carrying more law books from the library. After Jo had mentioned she’d make a good lawyer, Casey had been soaking up everything pertaining to law. Casey helped her in the clinic, and rolled her eyes whenever she spotted Jo and Luke kissing. Which was often, because Jo really liked kissing Luke.

  “Hey, Case,” Luke greeted.

  Casey held up a hand. “Whatever.”

  As she stomped off, Luke shrugged. “Teenagers.”

  A sense of happiness settled over Jo, and for the first time in her life, she wasn’t scared of the emotion. Usually, whenever she had a moment of joy, the rug was soon pulled out from under her. And during the first few weeks of Tyler and Kyle’s group settling in, Jo kept expecting the worst. Waiting for them to hurt her or Luke or Casey. She’d been jumpy and nervous, and every night she told herself the next day she’d leave, but then…she wouldn’t leave. She found an excuse every time to stay, until one day she woke up and realized that she didn’t want to leave. Not anymore.

  Somewhere her psyche had shifted into believing that happiness was real, that she deserved it, and that not all people were bad. As she looked up at Luke, she knew in her heart that he had been the catalyst to bring that revelation into her life. He’d helped her have faith, have trust, in humanity.

  “Luke?” she asked, staring up into his handsome face.

  “Yes?”

  “I love you.”

  He blinked, then cupped her face and kissed her hard on the mouth.

  “About time,” he muttered against her lips. “Because I love you too, you stubborn woman.”

  He wrapped her in his arms, and her heart soared.

  About Beth D. Carter

  I like writing about the very ordinary girl thrust into extraordinary circumstances, so my heroines will probably never be lawyers, doctors, or corporate high-rollers. I try to write characters who aren’t cookie cutters and push myself to write complicated situations that I have no idea how to resolve, forcing me to think outside the box. I love writing characters who are real, complex, and full of flaws, heroes and heroines who find redemption through love.

  Beth’s Website:

  www.bethdcarter.blogspot.com

  Heart of Survival

  by Ashlynn Monroe

  McKaye Tanner lost everything when the world ended. She grew into adulthood without anyone she could trust. She’s not sure what’s left of civilization, but from what she’s seen, it’s not much.

  Reece Rogers has worked hard to keep his small band of survivors alive. He doesn’t take any bullshit or risks. But when he sees a young woman running from a group of the contaminated he can’t turn his back on her and takes a gamble to save her.

  Can two battle-scarred, lonely people find love in a world that wants to destroy everything good about being human?

  Acknowledgements

  I’d like to say thank you to all the ladies who participated in this anthology. I’d also like to thank the amazing staff at Beachwalk Press.

  Chapter 1

  Cold wind bit McKaye Tanner’s exposed skin as she gazed down at the burnt-out hull of her hometown. She shrugged deeper into her tattered down jacket. She hadn’t expected to see this town again. The dark remains of the city lay in the valley below. Fall leaves and early snow swirled over the dead city. A snarl of abandoned cars rusted on the highway leading away from the rural metropolis.

  Cameronville was the biggest little city in their corner of the Midwest, or had been, before… She didn’t want to think about before. Somewhere in the mess on the road was a red Ford Fiesta. She smiled, despite the pain, because the stupid car had been Mom’s pride and joy. The hunk of metal was almost brand new at the time of the exodus away from the disease. Mom loved—had loved—that car. The purchase was a celebration the day she’d paid off her nursing school loans.

  McKaye closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. She could still smell the interior and had hoped to be taking driving lessons in it the next spring. That future never happened. For a long time, she stood on the edge of the bluff trying to picture what the town looked like when those nice memories were being made. She tried to remember being that girl.

  When she opened her eyes, all she could see was the growing darkness as the orange sunset burned off
in the twilight and the stars began to twinkle in the heavens. There hadn’t been so many stars when she’d been that girl because of all the light pollution, but now the world lived in primordial darkness again. Old Walking Bear called it justice. He said it was a rebirth, but all she saw was death. She wondered if he was still alive. He’d been part of Duncan’s group. She stopped her lonely brain from going down that memory lane.

  Motion on her left caused her to draw her ax, but she sagged with relief as she realized a squirrel scampered up a tree. She launched her weapon at the creature.

  “Sorry to make you my supper, little guy, but I need my strength.” She retrieved her meal and headed back to her campsite. “Thank you for providing for me, God.” She hadn’t been religious before the sickness, but now faith was the only hope in this world. Death lurked everywhere. Like Duncan always said hedge your bets. So she believed.

  The scent of winter hung sharp and fresh on the gusts pushing against her back. Going into town was stupid as hell. If the sicks—that’s what Duncan’s group called them—didn’t get her, scavengers might. Even in rubble, there were resources for those who knew how to find them. And she knew. Melody’s group had taught her what to look for after she’d left Duncan’s. Bad memories made her stomach clench. She pushed away the mental cobwebs as she dressed the squirrel for cooking.

  Focus. Food. Focus. Survival. Focus. She repeated the inter mantra as she finished putting the fresh meat on a stick. She survived well in the rural places. Woodland was her favorite.

  A twig snapped. Sicks didn’t walk quietly. Alert, she stood up, looking around, then inhaled deeply. There was no reek of decay, and no sound except the wind.

  Letting out her lungful of air, she hunched down again and began preparing her kindling. The small fire crackled to life. Soon it was ready, and she put her food over the heat. The scent was comforting. The smell was life, her life. She got to keep living another day. That was all she had—another day—but it wasn’t enough anymore. She’d learned, after Melody’s group, avoiding other humans was the smartest way to keep living.

  She couldn’t call this aimless wandering life. She was tired, and sorrow ached in her chest as the time-blurred memories of her family struggled to surface. She could barely remember their faces anymore. That’s why she’d made this dangerous journey to do a pointless thing. She was here for one reason. She was here to go home.

  Turning her supper over, she flinched back before the falling grease could splatter her. The fire hissed. Darkness surrounded her now. She watched a leaf fall from a tree. Fall was coming far too fast. She hadn’t found a place to winter. She wasn’t willing to migrate south this year. This was home. Tomorrow she would make a stand. Tomorrow she would reclaim her courage.

  But tonight McKaye was tired. She turned her meal again. The meat browned nicely. Smiling, she remembered the girl who’d refused to eat anything except chicken. How long had it been since she’d eaten chicken? Two years, three? Hell, she’d eat anything now. She’d found crickets tasty when roasted. Snake was good if you had the right spices. So much had changed in only a decade.

  Her meal was done, and she took the meat away from the flames before extinguishing the warming comfort until only embers remained. She didn’t need the company of the sick or scavengers. She needed rest. Yawning, she took a bite. It was dry, but hunger made the food extra delicious. She ate until there was nothing left, and then she tossed the remnants into the ash.

  If all went well, she’d be spending the night here again on her way away from Cameronville. If things didn’t go well, she’d be one of the sick or dead. Playing it safe was as draining as living dangerously, and she longed for an end to something—she just didn’t know what. She didn’t want to die, but she couldn’t keep going on without meaning.

  Wiping her hands on her jeans, she crawled into her small tent and closed her eyes. Sleep claimed her swiftly as she gave into her physical exhaustion.

  There were so many of them. The sicks.

  She stood with her back to Duncan. If she was going to die, at least she was with her mentor.

  “McKaye! Left!”

  She shot the bow. The sick man fell. They weren’t zombies. They weren’t monsters. She’d killed a sick man. He wanted to hurt her. Infect her. But he was a man nonetheless.

  “Right!”

  She drew an arrow and shot without aiming. She hit her mark.

  “You’re my lucky star! Five o’clock!”

  She shot again, saving them. And the battle continued. Duncan slashed with his sword. She shot the bow. Time passed. The smell of rot and blood surrounded her, and when it was all over she turned to Duncan.

  “We made it.”

  His eyes darkened. A look, the kind she’d never thought she’d see on his face, took her by surprise. His arms came around her. “McKaye. Oh, Micky, fuck. I want you.”

  She pushed against his chest, but he was so much stronger and a foot taller than her. “Let me go. Duncan, what are you—”

  “You’re not a little girl anymore. You need a man to take care of you. I—I killed for you! Ever since my wife...died, I can’t get you out of my mind.”

  And then she realized the truth. He’d murdered his wife. Her strange death made sense now. Sickened, McKaye pressed her crossbow against his chest as grief choked her.

  A bark of a scream tore out of her throat in a strangled yelp as she sat up. Shivering, she tried not to think about how Duncan and his wife Sarah had been her surrogate parents after she’d escaped the city. Being this close to Cameronville brought back old agony.

  She curled up, and silent tears filled her eyes. The sleeping bag was warm, but she shivered from a cold that ran soul deep.

  * * * *

  At dawn, McKaye got up and pulled on her shoes. The gray morning light matched her mood. She always slept ready to fight. Her weapons were close at hand; like a child with a teddy bear, those implements of destruction brought her comfort. She hadn’t owned pajamas in years. Those luxuries of normality had stopped being important.

  She walked through the chilly, morning mist. The ground stretched out to the bluff’s edge, white with frost, as she gazed down into fog shrouding the valley. She did her best to ignore the fear swirling inside and glanced back at her camp. This was the end of the road. Something had drawn her here, and she couldn’t see beyond this journey. Full circle, Mom would have said. The memory brought a pang through McKaye. There was no place to go, so she’d gone home.

  Peering into the mist, she tried to find the best path down, but it was too difficult to see. She went back to the makeshift camp to grab her things. Traveling light made the most sense. If she survived, she’d sleep here again on her way...wherever. For the first time since it all happened, she didn’t have a plan beyond going back to her childhood home. Picking up her pack, she shrugged the necessities onto her shoulders. As she picked up her bow and started down the hill, she prayed the only bad thing waiting for her was memories.

  Chapter 2

  McKaye fought through the brambles of the woodland as she made her way to the road. The last time she’d been here she was running away from the highway, not toward it. The surreal quality of this exodus into danger wasn’t lost on her as she pushed the brambles out of her way.

  A decade had begun reclaiming her hometown to nature. The once-manicured roadside, kept meticulous in an unnoticed regularity that only the tax dollars of civilization could make so extraordinarily ordinary, now grew wild with tall weeds and saplings.

  Her parents had complained frequently about the summer season of constant roadwork, and when the world had ended, this stretch of rolling asphalt had been new. Now it crumbled as the temperature extremes of winter and summer worked to show the hubris of all those hours wasted both working on the road and waiting in the ever backed-up traffic as each lane was restored.

  There was a poetry in decay, and she could see the beauty in this infant world. What came now was fresh as it clawed out of modern to recap
ture primal. Sadly, the humans she’d encountered had gone as feral as the land. Survival belonged to the strong. The weak had died long ago. And hopefully, there were a few like her, maybe, somewhere, who could still remember what was right and wrong.

  She stumbled over the uneven ground in her mindless quest toward any connection she could make with her long-dead family. Grief had a way of sneaking up on you. She’d hit the wall and that spark of civilized had smoldered to an ember. If she didn’t find her way back to being her again, she’d lose herself, give up, and just let the next sick have her as a snack, or stop eating and just sit down and wait for the end. That wasn’t how she wanted her story to end. She’d survived so much—too much to just give up.

  This was her quest for meaning, and probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done. Some people did drugs to escape emotional pain, some people drank alcohol, and some were just reckless idiots looking for an adrenaline rush.

  Her foot caught on a root. The sight of the ground rushing toward her made her put out her arms. “Oomph!” Her chin hit the gravel and thistles on the roadside as she rolled.

  Moaning, she sat up. Pain radiated through her jaw. She opened her mouth, which hurt like hell, but it was a relief. When she wiped her chin, there was blood, and the metallic flavor in her mouth told her she’d bit her lip.

  “I’m more of an idiot than an adrenaline junkie,” she muttered.

  Something rustled in the brush. McKaye held her breath. Idiot, idiot, idiot, she mentally berated herself. Twisting to her side, she rolled onto her belly and wiggled until the excessive vegetation obscured her from view. She held her breath, waiting.

  A small, red fox with white markings ran out of the ditch. He stopped, tense, looking around. His pointy ears flicked before he bolted off again. McKaye lay on her stomach, watching the little creature weave around debris and tires until he crossed the highway and dashed off into the field between the roadway and the outskirt of town.