Duncan shook his head. “No offense, preacher, but that’s not enough. How about I go along? I have the Glock and can keep an eye out for you.” He turned to Mark, who was doing a good job of hiding his terror. Duncan saw it, but that was only because he’d learned how to read the man he loved. Mark had gotten better about the few times they’d had to be apart, but most of their food and supply hunting they’d done together. “I promise not to jump off any ledges.”
Mark’s terror seemed to fade a bit. “No chances.”
Duncan pulled him a little closer and wrapped his arms around Mark’s waist. “I promise, baby.”
Mark’s cheeks colored and the red at the base of his neck spread upward—the bane of ginger-haired people. He mumbled something about “other people,” but Duncan couldn’t make it out. Mark did hug him back, though.
Duncan smiled. “Bryan knows we’re together.”
“Oh?”
Duncan nodded. “Yes. And he’s fine with it.”
Some of the red faded from Mark’s face. “Oh, okay, then.”
That reminded Duncan of Bryan and Laura, and he looked over to see them smiling.
“Don’t mind us,” Laura said, winking.
Duncan nodded and looked up to see the red coming back to Mark’s face. “Anyway, Bryan and I could go together. Better chances for both of us. You can stay here with Laura. If she is pregnant, the last thing we want to do is put her in any kind of danger right now.”
“You’re right,” Mark said, rather reluctantly. “All right.” He glanced toward the window. “It’s late today. How about tomorrow?”
“That works. Bryan?”
Bryan nodded. “Fine with me.”
“All right, then.” Duncan stood. “We’ve got some fresh fish to make for dinner. Ever cleaned one?”
DUNCAN AND Mark had chosen the cabin they had for two reasons: its proximity to the lake and the relatively short distance to a somewhat small, mostly unlooted town. It looked a lot like a resort town, aimed at serving the lake visitors. Duncan suspected the cabin they’d taken had been a rental for the vacationers. There’d been no personal touches—no personal pictures or knickknacks, nothing that said anyone lived there permanently.
Duncan had actually been grateful for that fact. He still felt weird taking over someone’s house. They’d had to more than once. After his ankle had healed, they’d moved on from the first family home they’d taken near the pharmacy they’d met at. But he hadn’t been able to go far for long. Before they’d made it a full five miles, he’d stepped funny and hurt his ankle again.
With a lack of prescription-strength painkiller, Mark had immediately ordered Duncan off his feet. They’d found a house nearby that didn’t have steps—so Duncan couldn’t fall—and settled in again.
He knew the original occupants weren’t coming back. Most likely they’d made a one-way trip to the hospital or possibly didn’t even make it all the way to help. Still, walking into what had once belonged to another person and helping himself had always felt odd to him.
But the location was the bigger advantage for them. Mark had learned how to fish, and Duncan had learned to clean and cook what he caught, allowing them to eat at least some fresh food. And the town still had plenty of other supplies. Moreover, Mark had discovered a bike-rental place and relieved it of two of the mountain bikes so they could even go farther, if they needed to, to look for more.
Bryan and Duncan left early the next morning on the bikes. Mark and Duncan had given the loft to Bryan and Laura for the night. They figured they could decide on permanent arrangements after they got the test results.
Duncan had a list in his pocket of things to look for, and Bryan’s target was the pregnancy test. They would also pick up any small packages of food they found while looking for the stuff on the list, though they still needed to keep it light since they only had their backpacks for their loot.
There was one more thing Duncan wanted to look for that wasn’t on the list. Something Mark had no idea about.
They made it into the town fairly quickly. The drugstore had the vitamins Mark wanted for Laura, the antinausea medication he’d left behind before, and some bandages and latex gloves they hadn’t picked up yet. Bryan found the test they’d been hoping for and scooped up all they had on the shelf. Mark had considered requesting they take just one, but he’d decided he’d rather have all of them. He was also afraid they might not work, so it was best to have more to try.
Duncan left Bryan to continue going through the drugstore and stepped out onto the street. Shopfronts stretched either direction for a good three blocks. They had quaint awnings overhead and plant pots on the sidewalk in front, some with dead flowers, others with overgrown perennials. Each window had painted lettering declaring what the vacationer could find inside.
Duncan turned left and started walking. He passed an art gallery, a shop full of tchotchkes, and a clothing store of “locally made” dresses and scarves. A pottery place and a garish souvenir shop took up the corners on the next block. Across the street, a chalkboard in one window declared the coffee of the day as “Summer Blend.” Duncan looked up the side street, grateful when he saw a promising sign.
He crossed quickly over to the entrance, not surprised to find the glass door to the pawn shop already shattered. He pushed it open and stepped carefully over the broken glass, then looked around. Looters had smashed several of the glass display cases and cleared the contents out. Based on the signs, Duncan guessed those had contained mostly electronics, and he shook his head. How the hell were they supposed to power them with no electricity?
Along one wall, another set of glass cases had been emptied. Those had apparently contained weaponry—knives, a sword or three, and probably guns.
Cases along the back wall looked to still have some things, so Duncan crossed the room—still being careful of the glass—and peered into the first one he got to.
Velvet trays filled it, most of which were empty. Duncan guessed the gemstone jewelry had been the first to go. They’d also taken most of the gold. The only things left were a few silver bracelets and a couple pairs of earrings. Duncan moved down the row.
The second case contained necklaces. Again, mostly silver remained, along with a few gold chains. He sighed and moved on.
He struck gold with the third case—literally. Wedding rings filled this one, and to Duncan’s surprise, the case had mostly been left alone.
Reaching in, he took out the tray with men’s wedding rings in it and balanced it on the edge of the case. He pulled one out and tried it on, but it was too small. It took him a while to find one that would fit, but eventually he found a plain gold band that went on his left ring finger.
He was deep in the task of finding one he thought might fit Mark and was just about to take the whole tray when someone called out, “Find what you were looking for?”
Duncan jumped and spun, pulling his weapon out of the holster in his jeans. “Jesus!” He put his free hand over his heart and lowered the Glock as he stared at Bryan.
Bryan held his hands up. “Sorry! And, uh, no, I’m not.” He smirked.
Blinking at him, it took Duncan a moment to figure that last bit out. Then it hit him and he chuckled, then laughed. He shook his head. “Dude, don’t sneak up on someone like that. Not these days.”
“Sorry. I thought you heard me. What are you looking for?”
“A ring to fit Mark. But I don’t know how big his fingers are.”
Bryan approached and peered at the tray. “Why not just take all the ones that match yours? Offer him one, and if it doesn’t fit, go through the rest.”
“Yeah. I was just thinking that. I sort of hate taking them all when we don’t need them.”
Bryan smiled at that. “You can always bring the rest back.”
“Didn’t think of that.” Duncan raised his eyebrows.
“Doubtful anyone will look for them. They’ll probably be here in ten years, but if you don’t want to keep them�
�.”
With a nod Duncan plucked the rest of the plain gold rings out of the tray and put them in his backpack. He glanced around the room, but nothing else there seemed to be anything that would help them at the moment. He remembered finding the Glock he now carried in an office of a similar pawn shop not long after the pandemic had claimed his sister. Holding up a finger to Bryan, he slipped behind the cases and into the office. Sure enough, in the back of a hidden part of the bottom drawer of the desk, he found a box of bullets and breathed a sigh of relief that they were the right caliber. He stuffed them in his bag, then turned to go back out to Bryan. He stopped, though, and grinned at the shelves he’d missed going into the office. He grabbed one of the items, then went back out to the main room.
“I have yet to actually need to fire my weapon. That doesn’t mean I want to find myself in a situation where I could run out of bullets if I did have to fire it.”
“You don’t have to explain to me. I’ve seen plenty, remember?” Bryan held his hands up.
Duncan nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced around, then back at Bryan. “We should get going, yeah?”
“Yeah. I found a bit of food and grabbed it. Do we need more?”
Duncan chuckled. “We always need more. They’re waiting for us, though, and Mark’s going to be nuts by the time we get back. We can save the rest of the scouting for later.”
Bryan nodded. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
As they stepped through the door, though, Duncan remembered one of the signs he’d seen. “There is one more stop I’d like to make, however.” He grinned as they left the store.
MARK PACED restlessly. Consciously he knew the trip should take a few hours and that they weren’t even going far. Duncan would be fine.
He had gotten better about his fears over the last nine months. He still worried Duncan would decide he didn’t want to be there, with him, but those worries had lessened quite a bit. The other fear, however, that something would happen to Duncan—something out of Duncan’s control—still hadn’t faded.
Intellectually Mark knew it was just fear. He knew it’d fade eventually. The virus was gone, and Duncan—when he wasn’t jumping off eight-foot ledges and breaking an ankle—was capable of taking care of himself.
But there were still dangers he couldn’t control, and Mark couldn’t stop himself from worrying about them. With a sigh he paced to the window again and looked out once more.
“They’ll be fine,” Laura said for probably the fiftieth time.
Mark turned to her, frowning. “Don’t you worry that he won’t come back? That some asshole will put a bullet in him just because?”
Laura tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear and tilted her head. “Every single time we’re apart. But—” She held up a hand when Mark opened his mouth. “But. If I let that fear control me, I’d be a mess. This is the world we live in now. We can accept it and learn to deal with the fears and uncertainty, or we can give ourselves ulcers we can’t treat. You know, we’re lucky in a lot of ways.”
Mark’s eyebrows went up into his hairline and his jaw dropped. “Lucky? Lucky? How on earth are we lucky?”
“Ever seen the Mad Max movies? Or any number of other post-apocalyptic movies? We could be in this situation because of a nuclear war. We could be here from any number of things. I’ve seen more than my share of zombie films. The virus or the inoculation to fight it could have really messed up our bodies—or minds, couldn’t they?” She stood, crossed to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. “We can—for the most part—trust canned, sealed, and dried foods. We can pull apples and other fruit off trees and, after washing them, eat them safely. We have supplies just lying around that we can use. There’s enough stuff in this world to supply some five times our current population.”
Mark frowned and considered her. “I never thought of it like that. I guess, when you look at it that way, we are lucky.” He sighed and looked out the window again. “I know. I know it’s just fear. I just—”
“It can take time to deal with it. Duncan loves you. I can see that as clear as day. He’ll do everything in his power—and possibly some beyond it—to get back to you. I’m sure of it.”
Mark swallowed but nodded. “He better. Or I’ll kill him myself.”
Laura laughed, which was what Mark was going for.
And it made him smile too. “Hey, I have some tea. It’s not great, not coffee, but… do you want a cup?”
“I’d love one,” Laura said, grinning.
Mark glanced out the window once more, then moved over to the big propane stove they’d set up on top of the old electric one in the kitchen. “I can’t cook. I am the grim reaper of food. Ask Duncan what I did once to a simple can of corn. But I can boil water without burning the house down.” He grinned at Laura’s laugh and turned to focus on the tea.
MARK HAD just managed to put the tea together when he heard steps on the porch. He spun around, staring at the door, telling himself not to run across the room like an idiot.
But when Duncan opened the door and stepped in, Mark seemed to lose control of his feet. What could only be a few seconds after that, he was across the room and in Duncan’s arms. He would have sworn he hadn’t actually told his body to move, but he was there and his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest.
“Hey, baby,” Duncan murmured, tightening his arms. “I’m here. It’s okay.” He ran his hands over Mark’s back as Mark struggled to corral his annoying emotions.
When his heart finally calmed a little, embarrassment flooded him instead. He wasn’t sure he could even look up and see the expressions on Bryan’s and Laura’s faces. He didn’t have to worry about Duncan’s. He knew Duncan understood.
Heat creeped up his neck, and his ears burned. He pulled back but looked up at Duncan, pointedly keeping his gaze from the other two. Before he could speak, though, Duncan’s lips crashed into his own, and he promptly forgot everything but the man kissing him.
He didn’t even hesitate to open to Duncan. Their tongues slid and he sighed at the taste, the feel of the man who had come to mean so much to him. It terrified him—there was no doubt about it—but it felt good too, to have someone who wanted and loved him, who kept trying to convince him things would work out and they’d still be together years down the road.
Mark let himself get lost in the kiss, running his hands up into Duncan’s shaggy blond hair. Duncan’s arms tightened around Mark until they were so tight against each other, there was barely a molecule of air between them.
When they broke apart, sanity asserted itself again, and Mark remembered they weren’t alone. The red on his cheeks and neck that had faded came back with a vengeance. He buried his face in Duncan’s chest and wished the floor would swallow him.
“Hey, baby. Look,” Duncan whispered.
Mark shook his head but didn’t speak.
“No, look, really,” Duncan prompted.
Mark lifted his head and glanced over, but neither Bryan nor Laura were paying the slightest bit of attention to him and Duncan. They were as wrapped up in each other as he and Duncan had been a moment before.
He cleared his throat and pulled back. “Uh, glad you’re back?” He phrased it as a question, making Duncan laugh.
But rather than make fun, Duncan kissed him on the forehead. “Glad I’m back. I don’t like doing those trips without you.”
Somehow, that one stupid line made Mark feel about a million times better. He stepped back, and Duncan dropped his arms. “Thanks. Uh… did you find what you went for?”
“Oh! Yes. And then some. I have a surprise for you.” Duncan’s almost ridiculously wide grin made Mark raise an eyebrow.
“Should I be afraid?”
Duncan laughed. “Nope. I can’t believe we hadn’t found one of these before, but….” He pulled his backpack off and opened it, then pulled out… a camping coffeepot!
Mark’s eyes widened, and he was sure it looked downright absurd. “Is that…?”
&n
bsp; “Yup!” Duncan nodded. “A coffeepot! And….” He dug into his bag again and produced a bag of coffee. “I’m pretty sure it’s still good. It was in bean form, and I ground it just before we came back.” He chuckled. “Hand grinders suck, for the record.”
Mark laughed. “Holy shit!” He glanced over at Bryan. “Uh, sorry.”
Bryan laughed too and waved. “I told Duncan yesterday not to worry about that.”
“Right, uh… anyone want some coffee?”
Duncan’s grin got even wider somehow.
DUNCAN SHOULDN’T have been nervous. He didn’t think Mark would say no. Mark loved him. He still worried about Duncan walking away. All this would do would show him how much more dedicated Duncan was to staying with him.
Telling himself these things didn’t seem to help much, though. All through the dinner of chicken casserole he’d managed to put together with rice and canned chicken, he worried. He’d put it aside long enough to come up with something bland for Laura—which he was happy to find she could hold down—then went right back to worrying. He’d considered asking in front of Bryan and Laura but decided it’d be best to get Mark alone for the proposal.
Just thinking the word had Duncan’s hands sweating.
He’d had a brief reprieve to celebrate the positive test result they’d gotten from two of the pregnancy tests Laura had taken. Mark didn’t like the idea of trusting only one of them since they were so old. But two he figured could be counted on better. Duncan had hugged her, then went right back to his worries.
Mark and Bryan insisted on cleaning up the dishes, and Duncan didn’t argue. Mark gave him a look—one that said he knew something was up—but didn’t say anything in front of the others. Duncan knew he’d tipped Mark off, but he couldn’t help it. He left them to it, went to his backpack, and pulled out the rings he’d picked up earlier that day.
He’d gotten a good look at Mark’s hands and decided his fingers were smaller, but not too much. So he picked a ring slightly smaller than the one he’d found for himself and tucked both into his pocket.
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