Then There Was You

by Heather Thurmeier

  “Why don’t we get you over to the fire, and I’ll find you the things you’ll need for tomorrow?” He stood from the table and took her arm, helping her to her feet.

  Walking the short distance to the fireplace in the corner of the room hurt as much as she feared it would, and she sagged with exertion by the time Travis lowered her to a chair. She didn’t have a clue how she’d manage walking the rest of the way to the bookstore the next day, but at this point, she didn’t see any other option. She had to get to her goal and could only do it on foot. Somehow, she’d have to tough it out.

  She hated to admit it, but a small part of her wished she could stay here with these nice people and their warm fire and supplies for the rest of the apocalypse. But she couldn’t. Knowing her family might be at the bookstore waiting for her meant she could never live with herself if she didn’t make it the rest of the way to find out for sure.

  If Dane might still be alive out there, then she had to hope he’d attempt to find the bookstore, and maybe, by some dumb luck, she’d find him there. She couldn’t even imagine what it would do to her if she never saw him again, never knew what happened to him...never got to kiss his lips or be in his arms again.

  No. He’s alive. He’d search river towns until he found the one with her family’s bookstore and meet her there. She’d make it there on her own, no matter how much her feet hurt, even if it meant crawling on her hands and knees.

  As Travis gathered supplies, Sara looked around the room. Everyone seemed so at ease and comfortable with one another. No fighting. No one had threatened her the entire time she’d been here. Based on her last several run-ins with people, she’d been sure the world had gone to shit, but these people seemed to be an exception. Maybe there were still good people in the world, working together and not against one another. Maybe the world would go on in some kind of new- normal way if there were people like this willing to collaborate to survive.

  Maybe her family’s idea of hunkering down and keeping their distance from the rest of the world wasn’t the only option.

  Travis returned with an armful of clothing and a backpack. “It’s not as much as I’d like to give you, but it’ll have to do.”

  “I thought you were getting me shoes.”

  He laughed. “I did. But you can’t walk around in a bloodstained shirt. So, I grabbed a few things. Hopefully something in this pile fits, but take whatever you need.”

  “One shirt will do.” Sara held up a blue T-shirt that looked about the right size and then grabbed the pair of sneakers. They were a little big, but would do well enough.

  “Wherever you’re going, and I’m not asking, sounds like it will be great.” Travis settled cross-legged beside her.

  “I hope so.” She forced any doubt out of her mind. She’d find her family or Dane or everyone waiting for her at the bookstore. Believing anything else would make leaving the safety of this place impossible.

  “Well, if it isn’t, you can always come back to the colony. We’d be happy to have you here.”

  Sara couldn’t get over how welcoming they were. She felt as if she were in an implausible movie not a real-life situation. “Why? Why would you all want another person to share your food with, to take on as a burden, to trust not to rob you of your precious supplies?”

  “Do you plan to rob us?” His eyes twinkled as they crinkled a little around the edges. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was flirting with her. But he already knew she had a boyfriend waiting for her. And he’d been the same way with Claire.

  “No, of course not.” Sara felt indignant even though she’d brought the line of questioning on herself.

  Travis sighed, the lightheartedness falling from his expression. “There are two kinds of people out there—those who have and those who want. We all came together here and started the colony because we believed the goodness in people can still shine through in times of complete despair, and sometimes, it’s the only thing to save you. So we made a choice, to be here, to work and live together, to welcome all who wanted to join us, and to believe one day, the world will heal itself and we’ll be there to start over when it does. Maybe it’s a hippie way of thinking about it, but it works for us.” Travis got to his feet. “Well, I’ll leave you to get some much-needed rest. I’ll be around to see you off in the morning if you want.”

  Sara smiled. “Thanks. I’ll remember your offer when I go.”

  “I hope you won’t need it, for your sake. But if you do, you know where we are.”

  Sara watched him walk away. When she checked her new bag, it had a bottle of water, a couple of granola bars, and a few other random things she might need. She set aside the blue T-shirt to change into and stuffed another into the pack just in case.

  It wasn’t much, but she appreciated the colony’s generosity nonetheless. Maybe it would be all she needed to make the last leg of the trip, and she could reach the bookstore by dark if she hurried.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Dane sat on the grass in the shadow of a large house across the street from the bookstore he thought—more like hoped—Sara’s brother owned. He’d been inside the house he currently leaned against and found it empty, burned out as if the previous occupants had tried to make a fire in their living room without a fireplace. The air, still thick with the lingering smell of smoke and charred carpeting, made breathing difficult and the place impossible to use as shelter.

  So instead, he sat outside, waiting.

  It had taken him a day and a half to walk here from the road where the truck had been stolen. The trip had been uneventful, if not boring. But at least he hadn’t run into any other groups of people looking to kill him for supplies. He didn’t have any supplies on him anymore anyway.

  He’d managed to find a morsel of food here and there, and even a bottle of strawberry-flavored water. Not enough to replace all the energy he’d used to get here, but since he had nothing else, he couldn’t complain.

  As he sat and watched the bookstore for any signs of life, he leaned his head against the wall. Exhaustion ebbed forward like a low tide rising, lapping up farther and farther until it threatened to overcome him. He fought to stay awake. He’d sleep when he found somewhere safe.

  The sun began to set behind puffy white clouds. He needed shelter, food, and to find out if this bookstore belonged to Sara’s family. Finding out came with risks. Like the risk of her family shooting first and asking questions later.

  Of course, this could be the wrong place. His gut told him he was in the right spot. The old house looked just as Sara had described.

  Staring at the upper-level window, Dane strained to see any kind of movement or light from inside. It looked like a small space, no bigger than an attic. How did Sara’s whole family and supplies fit up there? Maybe that’s why they’d chosen a house like this. The upstairs was unassuming.

  If he knew there were people inside, he could go in better prepared. At least then he’d know a little more what to expect. Going in blind, with no idea of occupants, would be scary and stupid, made even worse by the fact he didn’t even have a gun or his knife.

  But what if Sara waited in there, hoping he’d turn up? The thought sent his body into motion, and he sprinted across the street before his mind had a chance to protest. Is she in there? The need to find out coursed through his body.

  Dane sidled up to the building and leaned closer to hear if he could detect any movement inside. Silence. He tried the doorknob and found it open. Suspicion made the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up. Sara would have the place locked up tight.

  He pushed open the door, holding his breath when the hinges creaked. If anyone hid upstairs, they were now alerted to his arrival. Stepping into the bookstore, he let the door close quietly then took in the room around him.

  Books scattered across the floor, shelving crisscrossing what used to be walkways, and not a person to be seen. He let out a little sigh of relief. He’d been expecting to find a squatter in the bookstore, rega
rdless of what waited for him upstairs.

  He had to figure out how to get up there. Sara had mentioned a bookshelf disguised the staircases leading to the basement and the second floor, but she never told him which ones or what to do when he found them. He had no choice but to play sleuth and figure this out on his own, or be stuck on the main floor with no provisions except reading materials until someone else came along. Not an option he wanted to pursue.

  Since Sara’s family owned this place, it had to be stocked to the hilt, as the bunker had been, which meant somewhere in this house food, water, and warmth waited for him. And he definitely needed to find all of those things.

  Surveying the room, there were only a few bookshelves, which could lead to stairways. As he walked up to the house, he’d noted a set of large windows to the right of the door and at least three feet of siding. Yet, looking at the room inside, the bookshelves started at the edge of the windows. So, somewhere behind those shelves, there was space unaccounted for.

  He went to the first one nearest the windows and pulled. It didn’t budge. Running his hands along the books standing on the shelves, they all wiggled, not attached to the shelf or acting as a lever or switch of some kind.

  Dane did the same for the rest of the shelves along the wall, four in all. None of them seemed to want to swing away from the wall or had any suspicious books. He tossed a novel across the room frustrated that he couldn’t figure out their puzzle. But then if it were easy, this wouldn’t be a safe location.

  He stepped away as much as he could in the unkempt room and scanned each of the bookshelves in turn, looking for any type of discrepancies.

  “What’s this?” he whispered to himself, moving to stand in front of the second bookshelf. It looked like all the others except for the intricate carvings on each of its four corners. The wood felt smooth and sculpted beneath his fingers, twisting and turning in a three-inch section. He pressed down, hoping for a button like he’d seen in an old mystery movie, but nothing happened. Scratching his nail along the inside edge of the piece, he felt a groove. It matched one on the other side of the same carving. Gripping both sides in his fingers, he pulled.

  Dane smiled in victory as the lever made a tiny click and the bookshelf popped open. Beyond the opening, a staircase led to the second floor. He listened for noise but didn’t hear anything. He crept onto the stairs then closed the bookshelf door behind him. Without a knife, or a shard of glass, or any kind of weapon gripped in his hand, raw vulnerability threatened to suffocated him. Fear of the unknown throbbed through his body with his racing pulse.

  “Is anyone up here?” he called, figuring it wise to announce his arrival rather than be an intruder. “I’m Sara’s friend.”

  Silence.

  At the top of the stairs, he found what looked like a converted apartment. The space was much larger than it looked from the outside. A small kitchen, minus the appliances, on the left contained a table, chairs, counter, and portable camping stove, making it seem sort of welcoming even if it didn’t have everything a traditional home would have.

  The middle opened up to a living room area with a fireplace, a couch, and tables with what looked like oil lamps. On the right, three doors led to additional rooms. Two were small bedrooms with bunk beds to sleep six, and between them, the last room had been made into a bathroom of sorts, with a portable toilet and washbasin.

  Once again, Sara’s family and their resourcefulness and planning amazed him. They’d thought of everything. He had no doubt there were probably enough supplies stashed out of sight in this apartment to last months.

  On closer inspection, he found ashes in the fireplace, food ration wrappers in a makeshift garbage, and filtered water in glass bottles on the counter. Everything looked as if it had been used recently, but he couldn’t determine if her family had been here last night, last week, or within the last month.

  His hope soared with the notion that maybe Sara had used the fireplace. Maybe Sara made it here to eat, drink and rest. Dane’s chest burned when he thought about her getting taken away, what she might have had to do to escape to make it here.

  Dane searched the cabinets for food options, deciding on a protein bar and a snack-sized bag of freeze-dried apples. Grabbing a jar of water from the counter, he gulped half of it, which did little to quench the thirst he’d worked up since losing his supplies.

  He got to work on a fire next. As soon as night settled in another few minutes, the smoke from the chimney would disappear against the dark sky. The hearth should be far enough away from any windows that the glow of firelight wouldn’t give him away to anyone passing by. A couple of logs sat in a basket as well as a stack of books. By the look of the one on the top, which started at page eighty-one, whoever had been here had been using the novels as kindling. He followed suit then settled onto the couch, stretching out his aching legs toward the fire.

  As the heat warmed him, he fought to keep his eyes open long enough to eat. With his belly full, he gave in to exhaustion and curled up on the couch, hoping that soon Sara would be there.

  ***

  Dane woke to the sound of a creaking floorboard beyond the couch. In an instant, his mind sharpened and focused. His body tensed, aching for a weapon. If he could reach his glass water jar, he could smash it and use the remains to slash his way out of the house if needed.

  He braced against the couch, ready to jump...to fight.

  “Dane!” He didn’t have time to register the owner of the voice before a body dropped down beside the couch. Hands gripped his shirt tight in fists as Sara’s sweet scent filled the air around him.

  “Sara?” he questioned, disbelieving his own senses. Without waiting for a reply, he sat up and scooped her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest, kissing the top of her head. “You’re here. Are you hurt? How did you get away? Where were you?” he rambled while checking her for bruises, cuts, or any other signs of harm.

  He set her down onto the couch beside him, and she cringed. His chest ached when she gave a gasp of evident pain. “You’re hurt. Where?”

  “My feet. From the forest. I ran away, barefoot. I’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

  So many questions filled his mind with Sara in his arms again. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe. No one would ever hurt her again. No one would ever take her from him. He’d die protecting her.

  He clenched his jaw against the question he had to ask even if he feared the answer. “Did they...?” His voice caught in his throat. “If they hurt you...touched you...I’ll....”

  She shook her head, biting her lip as tears pooled in her eyes. She took a moment to compose herself before speaking. “You found it. I knew you would,” Sara said, ignoring his questions. She wrapped her hands around his head and pulled him down to kiss her.

  His mouth on hers felt like watching the most amazing sunset, warm and comforting. It made him hungry for more. It fueled his kisses, prompted his hands roam her body. He’d lost her, for a time, and having her with him again was a gift he never thought he’d get.

  “I would have gone anywhere to find you.”

  “And you did. I knew you would be waiting for me.” Sara peered into his eyes, and he saw the unspoken questions on her mind. His heart ached for her.

  “They weren’t here when I found this place, darlin’.” Sara sucked in a shaky breath, and he held her tighter, wishing for a way to take away her fears. “But I’m pretty sure someone has been recently.”

  “I thought for sure they’d make it.” Her voice broke.

  “Sara, look at me.” He took her head in his hands and forced her eyes to meet his. “I saw evidence of someone being here before me. I’m not sure how long ago, but the filtered water on the counter is fresh, so it can’t have been more than a few days.”

  “There’s water?” she whispered, and he noticed how dry her lips were.

  “Of course. You stay here and rest. I’ll get you some.”

  Dane returned to her side a minute lat
er with another jar of water and a selection of food from the cabinet. Her family wouldn’t love him scrounging through their stockpile and taking what he wanted without thought of rationing, but Sara needed it, so he didn’t give a shit.

  She accepted the food and water. While she ate, she stared at the fire. He waited as long as he could before giving in to the questions racing through his mind.

  “How did you get in here without me hearing you? The front door hinges squeak, and the latch on the door to the stairs is clunky. I know I’m tired, but it’s a little concerning you could make it all the way to the couch without me knowing.”

  Sara smirked, a bit of her old spark returning. “There’s another way in. Do you think we wouldn’t have an alternate route in and out of our shelter? Silly, unprepared boy.”

  “Hey, I’ve done pretty well by us. I’ll have you remember those fighting lessons I gave you and how critically important those have turned out to be. You wouldn’t even know how to use a weapon if I hadn’t shown you.”

  At the mention of weapons, her smile faded and her shoulders drooped. She went back to staring at the fire again as if lost in her own thoughts. A line of tears crested her lower lids, sliding down her cheeks.

  Dane wiped them away with his thumb and pulled her into the protection of his embrace. “It’s okay. You’re safe here with me.” Anger at an unknown enemy spiked inside him, and he wished he could lash out at the person who’d done this to Sara.

  “I killed him. They were going to take me to their camp and....” A shiver rippled through her whole body.

  “It’s over,” he whispered, trying his best to comfort her. “You did what you had to do. I’m proud of you. You’re strong and resilient. Other people would have succumbed to their fate, but not you. You find a way to fight. And you’ll fight to put that moment in the past, too. I know you will. You’re a survivor.”