by Elle Aycart
The day flew by. They lazed on the sofa for a while, and Alec taught her how to encrypt a message. It was pretty easy and damn fun. Jess would have loved it.
“Cell reception is sketchy around here,” he explained. “Don’t be surprised if you can’t use your phone without wifi, unless you’ve got a satellite model. You need this app for the encryption to work. Wolf developed it, by the way. Give me your phone number.”
She did, and he sent her a text. When she got it, it was garbled, full of letters, numbers, and even pictures. “Go to the app, press decrypt, and there you go.”
The text read: You can’t run. I’ve got your cell number. I’ll find you anywhere.
She rolled her eyes. “Ha. Ha.” But she was too excited about the encryption lesson to be angry, so she let it slide. “Shayna said something to Sean about skimming his group messages. Are those also—”
He nodded. “Yeah, also encrypted. Preppers are secretive by nature.”
Of course they were. God forbid someone should steal their spaghetti.
After the crash course on encryption, and some lunch, they went outside with the .22. While she was shooting (and not hitting anything), Heather called, so they walked to hers to deliver the milk she’d asked for. The old lady lived very close by, something Alec must have taken into consideration when he built his place.
The milk might have been an excuse, because when they arrived, Heather had already set the table.
“We were going to cook something at home,” Alec said, but she didn’t even listen to him. She pushed him into a chair and that was it, end of discussion. Megan was very impressed; she made a mental note to try that technique.
Heather talked and smiled a lot and didn’t miss an opportunity to dote on her son. Alec wasn’t a very expressive person most of the time, but Megan could tell he loved the old lady. The way he humored her was a clear tell.
Heather wanted to talk a little business too. “So Megan, are you leaving at the end of the period we agreed on, or do you want to extend the rental?”
Before she could answer, Alec did. “We’re working on it.”
“We are?” Megan demanded.
They both ignored her. “I suppose you could always move in with Alec if someone else asks for your cabin,” Heather continued.
“We’re working on that too,” Alec said.
“We are?” Megan repeated.
“We are,” Alec said. “Heather, the food was great, but we’ve gotta go. We’re going to see a movie this evening, and we need to stop by my place beforehand to get some supplies.”
Supplies? Did they have to bring their own popcorn? Probably.
“Are you coming?” Alec asked Heather. “We can come back to pick you up.”
“Thank you, son, but Carol is coming over. Her family is visiting soon, and I’m going to help her prepare pandemic emergency kits for the little ones. The hazmat suits will have SpongeBob Squarepants on the back, and the masks will have Elsa stickers.”
“Okay.” Alec was already putting on his winter gear, obviously not seeing anything weird in Heather’s words.
“Have fun,” Heather said, hugging Alec and then Megan. “The movies aren’t that new, love.”
“That’s okay.” Megan had almost a decade’s worth of movies to catch up on. They said their farewells and began the walk back to Alec’s cabin.
“We agreed this was casual,” Megan accused. Talking with his mom about moving in together was not casual. Not by a long shot.
“I never agreed to that, boss. I believe the two most important women in my life should be well acquainted.”
Jesus. It was like talking to a wall. She looked up and could have sworn she saw Jess laughing at her.
The provisions he had to retrieve were a bit weird. But, well, maybe every prepper took a picnic basket to the movies? Including humongous sub sandwiches with all the trimmings.
They parked behind NoName’s community center. She entertained the idea that they were going inside up to the point when she saw the outside wall covered by a white blanket. At the far end of the lot, someone was working on a projector.
“What—”
“In summer, this is a drive-in that’s open once a week. In winter it’s more like a sit-down-around-the-fire movie theater.”
That explained the food, the quilt, and the wood he’d brought. “Just a suggestion—why not go inside the community center to watch the movie?”
Alec shrugged, picking up the supplies and handing her the folding chairs that seemed to be a permanent fixture in his truck. “Too easy?”
Of course.
He greeted several people who were standing around campfires in front of… she wasn’t sure what. Some sort of mini shelters made of planks and branches?
Alec must have seen her frown. “Those are lean-tos. Rudimentary, but they do the job.” He grabbed her hand and they walked toward one, where his crew and Sean had already built a fire. “We build them fresh every winter.”
“Don’t the kids destroy them?”
His tone was arrogant. “Kids around here know better than to play with prepper stuff.”
“Because you’ll shoot them?” She wouldn’t put it past this bunch.
The gorgeous smile lines around his eyes made an appearance. “No… not with real bullets, anyway. We do have a couple of pretty scary bunkers.”
She burst into laughter.
“Perfect day,” Marc greeted them as they walked up. “No wind, no snow.”
“Do you guys hold movie nights in bad weather?” Megan asked.
“There is no bad weather,” Wolf answered. “Just badly prepared people.”
She would so love to be here for one of those movie nights. “What are we watching?” she asked, opening a folding chair.
“Not yet decided,” Marc informed her. “The projector is temperamental. Some films get stuck, so we have a couple alternatives.”
Alec put the basket on the ground and unpacked the two-foot long subs. “As agreed, I took care of the food,” he said, looking pointedly at Marc. “I don’t want you freaking my woman out anymore.” He unfolded the quilt and wrapped it around her.
“Copy that. Not freaking your woman out. Sean, hide the snacks. Wolf, no drinking the giant centipede vodka.”
“We have centipede vodka?” Sean asked, excited. “Forget the coffee. We’re hitting the bottle.”
“Bottles,” Cage corrected. “Marc brought two.”
Sean turned to Megan and Alec. “Okay, let’s think about this rationally. The ick factor is the centipede inside the bottle, isn’t it?”
Megan nodded.
“Fine. We’ll fish it out of the bottle and roast it while we drink the vodka. There you have it. Problem solved. Let’s enjoy movie night.”
Chapter 10
“Oh. My. God. That was…”
Megan couldn’t seem to find the right word, so Alec decided to give her a hand. “Horrible? Surreal? Scary?”
“Fantastic,” she finally said as they walked out of the council room in the community center after her first town meeting. “This was better than The Housewives of Beverly Hills, Breaking Amish, and The Bachelor rolled into one. We need to sneak a camera in next time. We’ll make NoName famous.”
“They’ll shoot us on sight.”
She pondered for a second. “Okay. Forget the camera. When’s the next meeting? I’m bringing popcorn and a beer hat.”
Alec chuckled, pleased she wasn’t fleeing for her life. He kissed her and placed his arm around her shoulders, directing her toward the truck. “So you had fun.”
“Are you kidding? That was the absolute best.” She reached into her pocket and took out something shiny. “I even brought a fork with me, just in case. A shame there was no food.”
He shook his head, amused. “They bring forks when it’s absolutely necessary. To the pasta parties before the marathons, for example.”
She looked doubtful. “I wouldn’t put it past them to eat the spag
hetti with the Swiss Army knife. Do you think they’ll ever come up with a name for the town?”
“Nope. Not in a million years. We’ll be NoName forever, mark my words.” He clicked his key fob and they slid into the truck.
“Pity,” Megan said thoughtfully. “I have some great suggestions.”
“You can’t vote nor propose anything, boss. They let you in because I intimidate them and they don’t like to tell me no.”
“Good. Keep intimidating them. When’s the next meeting? Is it before I leave?”
“Who says you’re leaving?” he replied, his tone hard. If he’d learned one thing about this new Megan, it was that intensity made her uncomfortable. He hated to resort to such a low trick, but he was that desperate. “Let’s stop by your place and pick up some clothes for you.” He didn’t mind keeping her naked or in his T-shirts, but his clothes were too big for her to wear outside.
“Sure.” She activated the Bluetooth on her phone, paired it with his truck, and began to hum along with the tune that emerged.
As they drove into the front yard, a call came in. The ringtone was different from the usual sounds Megan’s phone made. Without even looking at the phone screen, she declined the call. Then came the beep of a message.
She left the phone in the cupholder as she got out of the cab. He offered it to her, but she shook her head. “Just delete the message.”
Her phone had a different operating system from his. He wasn’t sure what he pressed, but the message started playing on speaker.
“Megan, this is Dr. Metzel. I tried to contact you several times to see how you were doing, but you don’t pick up. I’m calling to let you know about a new clinical trial being offered through the cancer center. I know you said no to taking part in medical trials, but I hope you’ll reconsider. You fit all the criteria, and the phase two study produced encouraging results. Please, don’t take too long thinking it over. The medical trial will start soon, and we need to gather all the lab work and the physical tests before it begins. You made it very clear that you’re reluctant to seek further treatment, but this could make a difference. It wasn’t available the last time we spoke, so I wanted to be sure you had a chance to consider it. The side effects may be tricky, but we believe they will be tolerated by most patients. Either way you need to check in with me, if for nothing else than to talk about palliative care. Please call me.” A number followed.
Alec was stunned, not sure he’d heard what he’d heard. “Megan—”
She slammed the door, her expression hard. He scrambled around the truck to catch up with her. “They said the same things to Jess in the later stages,” she muttered as if to herself, and then turned to him. “Forget about the message. I’ll get my stuff and come right back.”
As if. He followed her inside the cabin. “Pack your things. All your things. I’m driving you to Seattle.”
“Why?”
“What the fuck do you mean, why? You heard the message. You need to sign up right away for the medical trial.”
“No, I don’t. You don’t speak Doc. I speak it fluently. ‘Might be’? ‘We believe’? ‘Encouraging results’? ‘Tolerable side effects’? That’s Doc for ‘You have a one-in-a-million shot, but don’t be too sad when we fail. Oh, and let us experiment on you while we’re at it’. No, thank you.”
“One in a million is a hell of a lot better chance than you have now, refusing treatment.” Which she’d failed to mention. But that was a battle for another day. “Now you’ve got zero chance. Now you’re just waiting to die.” His voice was rising, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
She changed her approach. Smiling, she drew close and touched his upper arm, like a teacher appeasing a kid. “Aren’t you being a little dramatic? I understand—you’re a doer. A fixer. You see a problem and you need to solve it. Military people are like that. Unfortunately, I’m not fixable. I’m okay with it. I’ve made my peace.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” he roared, running out of patience, prepared to throw her over his shoulder and drive her to the nearest hospital, gagged and bound if need be.
“I’ve done it all. Endured it all. The endless—and useless, I might add—procedures. The chronic pain. The side effects of the side effects. I gave it all and then some. Pulled up my big girl panties. Until the end. Until I was, supposedly, healthy. I can’t and I won’t go through the same shit again. I simply won’t. I’ve seen enough to know.”
“To know what?”
“That I’ve seen enough,” she stated.
“Stop with the riddles. Just admit it, Megan—you’re scared.”
She took a step back. “Scared?” She snorted. “I’m terrified. And you make matters worse. Before, I had nothing to lose but my life. Now I stand to lose you when I’ve just found you. And it makes me so fucking mad. You shouldn’t be angry when facing death; it takes too much energy. Acceptance is a better option. You need Zen.”
“Fuck Zen. And fuck acceptance. We are not accepting this!”
“There is no we. It’s my life, and I’ll make all the pertinent decisions.”
Jesus, she was so exasperatingly stubborn. “This,” he said, pointing at himself and then at her, “is a very strong we. You don’t get to dismiss it.”
“Sorry, buddy. I’m dying. I get to do whatever the fuck I want. Except live, that is.” She gave a dry laugh.
“But that’s the thing. That’s exactly it. You don’t know for sure that you’re dying! You’re too afraid to find out. Or fight it. When the fuck were you going to tell me there were such things as clinical trials for your cancer?”
She took a deep breath and looked at the floor as if praying for patience. As if he were the unreasonable one. “Honestly? Never.”
“Not acceptable. You die, you die fighting like what you are: a warrior.”
If her expression was anything to go by, that was the wrong thing to say. “You don’t get to tell me how to die, asshole. And to refuse treatment is not to die like a coward. Refusing treatment is an honorable way to die.”
He took a step forward, looking her straight in the eye. “Yes, it is, but running away and refusing treatment because you’re scared isn’t.”
“That’s very easy to say from the other side of the fence,” she said, her tone ironic.
“Probably. That doesn’t make my words less true. Dying is easy, Megan. Living is hard.”
“Dying is not easy, you sanctimonious prick!” she yelled, coming up to him. “I know many who couldn’t manage it fast enough or painless enough.” She jabbed her finger into his chest. “You are fucking infuriating. Can you tell that Neanderthal brain of yours to engage the filter?”
He shrugged. He might have heard the “infuriating” epithet once or twice before. The part about the Neanderthal brain was new. Probably true too, though.
“You have no clue what you’re talking about,” she continued. “And yet you have an opinion about what I should do. I saw Jess undergo one of those trials. No. Fucking. Way.”
“Is this about money? Because if so, I have money. Whatever the cost, I can foot the bill.”
“No, this is not about money, jackass. Now go away,” she yelled. “I don’t want to talk to you or see you.”
“Not a fucking chance,” he answered, resolute.
“Then I’ll leave.” She grabbed his keys from his hand, stormed out, and heaved them into the snow. “And don’t follow me.”
Her car’s engine was revving before he could react. She shouldn’t be driving in her current state. He ran after her but couldn’t catch her. So much for always being prepared.
Megan drove aimlessly, her mind in turmoil. She’d left her stupid cell in Alec’s truck, so she couldn’t use GPS, or listen to music, for that matter. She sure wasn’t going to pick up a radio station out here. On the plus side, she’d made her escape before he could get into the car with her. She needed space, not a bulldozer who would roll over her and force her to comply.
Damn he
r cell and damn Dr. Metzel. She’d told him very clearly the last time she’d seen him that she was done, that she would accept no treatment but palliative care at the very end. The cancer had come back with a vengeance. Even Metz, as she called him, couldn’t contradict her on that. She’d made her peace with dying. The panic attacks she’d had since the cancer recurred had disappeared once she’d accepted that this was it for her. No way was she going back to that now.
And who the fuck was Alec to lecture her? She’d given it her all. She’d been poked and probed and chopped into pieces. She’d been in hospitals for so long, the only friends she’d had were the ones she lost on the ward, who, by the end, barely resembled human beings. For ten years, she’d placed her present on hold in hopes of a future. No more. She had no future, fine, but damn if she wasn’t going to live whatever she had left to the fullest. No hospitals for her, no treatments painfully prolonging the inevitable.
Alec could say what he wanted. She was calling it quits because it was time. She loved her family and her family loved her; she couldn’t put them through the same shit again. The fear. The fading hope. The mountain of medications to keep track of. The endless procedures, the angst of the follow-up tests, the fights with the insurance company. They were not hurting for money, Logan especially, who was a big shot in some pharmaceutical corporation and had connections ups his ass, but still. She couldn’t do this to them again. Or anybody, for that matter, herself and Alec included.
Her parents were happily oblivious in Florida, where they’d moved a year into her remission. Logan was happily oblivious in Seattle. That was how they were all going to remain until after her death: Happily oblivious.
She should probably leave NoName. Pack her stuff and disappear. But she so didn’t want to. Not yet. She hadn’t been granted too many moments of happiness in her adult life, and she was happy with Alec. In spite of his recent outburst, she didn’t want to part with him. She knew she would have to, eventually, but she wasn’t ready yet. It was unclear when it had happened, but she was already in way over her head. She was totally in love with the unreasonable prick.