Pandemic

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Pandemic Page 9

by Tinnean


  Wheat swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

  “They had a radio like this in the drugstore. That was how I found out Revere is…was…the woman who first started broadcasting, trying to warn the people. The government wasn’t happy with her and tried to shut her down. Listen.”

  “—don’t have much time myself,” Prescott went on. “But Revere wanted me to pass this information on to anyone out there who’s listening. If you haven’t become ill by this point, you may have a chance. If you can get your hands on some antibiotics or antivirals, take them as a prophylactic. If your body is able to develop antibodies against the bug that’s killing the rest of us, you just might be one of the lucky ones. Before she…left, Revere did some research. If you’re on the West Coast, head for Washington State. It’s the safest place on that coast with regards to natural disasters, and trust us, they’ll be coming. Colorado and Oregon are also high on the list. If you’re on the east coast, you’ve got more choices—Vermont is number one on the list, followed by Maine. Get to one of these states if you can, as soon as you can. We don’t know what else is waiting for us. As for this pandemic, we’re hoping this won’t be an extinction level event, but we won’t live to find out. You’ll be the ones to discover that.”

  “An extinction level event?” Wheat pressed a hand to his mouth as if to keep himself from vomiting. “Oh God.”

  Prescott was still talking. “According to Revere, the government knew. She blamed them for not getting the information out sooner. They didn’t want to cause panic,” he said, his tone bitter and mocking. “But it’s not just the United States. It’s the entire world. Too many fucking countries refused to face the reality of this situation, and now it’s too fucking late for most of us.”

  Wheat moaned, and Laurie reached across the table to grip his hand. “We’ve survived this long. We’ll be okay.” He hoped.

  “No, it isn’t that. At least not only that.”

  “Is your head bothering you?” Laurie didn’t have much he could do for Wheat other than give him more ibuprofen, but how much was too much? It could be dangerous, and he didn’t want to chance it.

  “No…You’re going to hate me.”

  “I don’t think that’s likely, but tell me why you think so.”

  “My father has—had—friends in the government. They’d told him what was going on, but never to this extent.”

  Laurie reached out his other hand to rest on Wheat’s shoulder, and Wheat shied away. It was easy to see he really expected Laurie to haul off and slug him.

  “I didn’t know, Laurie. Father swore to me…He swore to me that they hadn’t let him know how serious this was. He’s my father. I believed him.”

  Laurie could see how upset he was. He rose, walked around the table, and slid onto Wheat’s lap. “This isn’t your fault.”

  “But—”

  Laurie wrapped his arms around Wheat and said again, “Listen. Even if we are the last two men alive in Laurel Hill—in the world—why would I blame you for something your father did?”

  Wheat sagged in his embrace. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t be silly.” He stroked Wheat’s back and rested his cheek against Wheat’s, surreptitiously checking for warmth. Oh thank God. His cheek was cool. Although he would need to shave soon. “I have some antibiotics in the bag.”

  “That thing really is a bottomless sack.”

  “Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

  “What’s in your bugout bag?”

  “Do you know, I’ve got no idea? You’re not allergic to amoxicillin, are you?”

  “No, the only thing I’m allergic to is bigotry and racism.”

  “Good.” Laurie got up and dug through the pharmacy bag. He came up with a bottle of the antibiotic. “Here. Take two of these to start with.” He shook out a couple of tablets onto Wheat’s open palm. “I wish Rod had put a thermometer in here. I’m just going by how your skin feels.”

  “I don’t feel hot.”

  “No, but you look it.” He couldn’t help smiling when Wheat blushed. He wished he could kiss him, but that had better wait.

  “What about you?”

  “I feel cool, but yeah, I’ll take them, too.” He did, and washed them down with what was left in his bottle of water. “Okay, what do you say we check out the bugout bag?”

  “I have to admit I’m curious, but before we do…are we going to look for my parents?”

  “Sure we are. You mentioned a mountain cottage, right?”

  “Yes, in northwest New Jersey.”

  “Okay, we’ll go on the idea that’s where they were heading, and we’ll head in that direction. Tell me the route you usually take.”

  Wheat looked confused, but he did, naming roads, highways, the interstate, and exits.

  “Okay, got it. We’ll give you as long as you need to feel better, and then we’ll go looking for your folks.”

  Wheat came to him and hugged him. “Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure. Now, let’s see what’s in the bugout bag. Just don’t get too excited. It’s probably just clothes and stuff—the usual things you’d put in a backpack when you go camping.” Laurie cleared off the table and swung the bugout bag onto it. He removed the sleeping bag that was fastened to the bottom and set it aside, along with the coil of rope, before he unzipped the main compartment and looked in. “Holy…”

  “What’s in there?”

  “When Lync said he’d be prepared for anything, he wasn’t kidding.” He pulled out a black tarp that had been folded over the contents.

  “A trash bag?”

  “It can be used for groundcover or a rain poncho. At least that’s what Lync said.”

  “Interesting. This Lync—wait a second. He wouldn’t be Lyncoln Ryland, would he?”

  “Um…Yes?”

  “The same Lyncoln Ryland who’s now dating Adam James?”

  “I guess so.” Laurie felt queasy. Was this the end of their friendship? Who would want to spend the end of the world with someone who couldn’t hold onto his boyfriend?

  “Well. It is a small world.”

  “Laurel Hill’s a small town.” Laurie couldn’t meet Wheat’s gray eyes. Instead, he reached into the bag and took out a first aid kit. At least they’d have stuff in case they got hurt. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Why would I be?”

  “Well…my ex-boyfriend took your ex-boyfriend.”

  “Kismet, Laurie.”

  “You think so?”

  “I do. Adam didn’t share our taste in games.”

  “I don’t think Lync did either.”

  “See? It’s worked out for the best.” He peeked into the bag. “What else is in there?”

  One by one, Laurie took out the items. A mess kit, water purification tablets and a water filter, sanitation supplies, a lightweight backpack—

  “Why the backpack?” Wheat asked.

  “I guess if we’re going to travel, we’ll be able to add what you’ve got in your suitcase and more of the supplies here in the bunker.”

  “This Lync was really smart.”

  “He was.”

  “Except when it came to giving you up.”

  Laurie felt himself blush. No one had ever seemed to want to hold onto him for long. He ducked his head and smiled, and continued unzipping compartments and pulling out items—a towel, antiseptic wipes, a survival kit with everything necessary for making it through an emergency—flashlight, fire starter, compass, Swiss knife…revolver and ammunition.

  “That’s cool,” Wheat said. “I packed one, too.”

  “Jesus, I hope we don’t need them”

  “People are always the worst aspects of what you have to face in an emergency.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I watch The Walking Dead.”

  Laurie began to laugh, then stared down at what was at the bottom of the bag. “Oh my God, I’m so stupid.”

  “What?”

  He upended the bag and spilled o
ut its remaining contents. “Lync packed emergency rations.” He did some fast counting. “It looks like there’s enough to last about a week.”

  “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, it’s great, but if I’d gone through the bag earlier and realized that, I wouldn’t have decided to get some groceries at Last Chance. I would have avoided the whole thing at the pharmacy. I would have come directly here to the bunker.”

  “But if you had, you would have missed me completely.”

  “Yeah.” Laurie felt frozen, and not only for the “what if” of missing Wheat. That mob would have come upon an unconscious Wheat and torn him to pieces. He launched himself at Wheat and held him tight. “I’m glad I didn’t look into the bag,” he whispered into Wheat’s ear, the words hoarse and desperate.

  This time it was Wheat who ran comforting hands up and down Laurie’s spine. “Kismet.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t think about it. Or if you have to, think of it as kismet.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I say so.” Wheat continued caressing him, and Laurie relaxed against him.

  They stood like that for a while. Laurie could have stayed like that all night, and he would have, but then he felt the tremors that were running through Wheat and realized they weren’t signs of excitement.

  “Maybe we should go to bed,” he suggested.

  “That sounds like a good idea.” And Wheat sounded relieved. “It’s not that I don’t like this, but talk about bad timing…”

  “I know. You took a real knock to your noggin.”

  “I did.”

  “I can wait until you’re feeling better.”

  “That’s the thing. I’m not sure I can.” Wheat turned his head and pressed his lips to the side of Laurie’s neck.

  Laurie hummed deep in his throat. God, he loved that; he always had. It had just been so hard to find a lover who would indulge him. Even Lync, although that might have been bad timing. Lync might not have to go to work until late in the afternoon, but Laurie had to be on the job by seven in the morning. So while Lync could stay in the motel he’d chosen for their hookup, Laurie had to drive home. There just hadn’t been time to linger.

  “So,” he said reluctantly. “Lights out?”

  “Okay.” Wheat’s single word sounded just as reluctant.

  They separated and left everything the way it was. There would be time in the morning to repack the bugout bag and decide what they’d need to take from Wheat’s suitcase as well as the supplies in the bunker.

  While Laurie went from lantern to lantern and snuffed the wicks, Wheat found a blanket large enough to cover the two mattresses and got it in place.

  Finally, they stripped down to their shorts and got under the covers, each staying on his own mattress. Wheat wasn’t well enough for any hanky-panky, but cuddling would have been nice. Well, maybe tomorrow night, Laurie thought.

  “Laurie?”

  “Hmm?” He yawned and felt almost boneless as sleep began creeping up on him.

  “Where will we go if—when—we find my parents?”

  “Vermont is closest to us, and heading for your folks’ cottage will take us in that direction, but unless we can find a car with the key in the ignition, it will take us forever to get there.”

  “Keys won’t matter. All we have to do is find a car with gas in the tank. I’ll get it going,” Wheat said with total assurance. The sounds coming from his mattress indicated he was snuggling down onto it.

  “You will? How?”

  “I…er…had a misspent youth? McIntyre’s oldest daughter taught me how to hotwire a car.”

  Laurie’s jaw dropped, and then he burst into laughter. “We do make a good pair.”

  “I think so.”

  He was pleased with how happy that seemed to make Wheat. It made him really happy, too. He reached over and snuffed the last lantern and settled down under the covers.

  And when he woke up the next morning with Wheat holding him, he was even happier. He had no doubt they were going to make it.

  Chapter 11

  Wheat slowly roused from an uncomfortable sleep. A low-level headache woke him periodically through the night, and this time he was hot and sweaty. Why was he sleeping on his back? He never slept on his back. He peeled open an eye, then blinked a few times, but the room was so dark he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Come to think of it, why couldn’t he move his left arm? He couldn’t have had a stroke; he was too young.

  Suddenly he realized why he was so warm: someone was lying on that arm, snug against Wheat’s side because Wheat was keeping him there.

  Oh, shit, what had he done? He wasn’t used to waking up with anyone in his bed—not boyfriends or hookups or even his camel with the wrinkled knees when he’d been a little boy. This dude was holding onto him as if his life depended on it, and that was going to make getting rid of him difficult.

  “Dude?” He poked at the man’s shoulder, trying to rouse him.

  He thought he’d succeeded when the man beside him stirred and mumbled something unintelligible against Wheat’s neck. The warmth of his breath raised goosebumps on Wheat’s skin. Oh God, Wheat hoped this guy didn’t start drooling all over him. However, all he did was tighten his arm around Wheat’s waist and snuggle against him.

  Wheat reached over, and this time he gave the man’s shoulder a shake. “Dude, I think we must have had a power outage. I don’t know what time it is, but you’ve got to go. My parents won’t be happy that I brought someone home.”

  The man didn’t reply, but his breathing altered slightly, and Wheat could tell he was awake.

  “It’s time for you to go,” he said again. “If you get off my arm, I’ll let the cook know to have breakfast ready for you by the time you shower and get downstairs.”

  The man cleared his throat. “That’s gonna be interesting. We didn’t bring a cook with us. Dude.” He gave a soft snort of laughter.

  Laurie! It all came back to him. They weren’t at home but in the bunker in the woods. It was Laurie he was holding, who was holding him, Laurie who’d brought him to this place that was safe and dry. And dark.

  “Bad move,” Laurie muttered. “Really bad move.”

  “What?” Wheat wasn’t sure if he should be hurt by that comment.

  “I should have trimmed one of the lanterns instead of snuffing out all of them.”

  “Uh oh.” But he was actually relieved it was something so easily fixable.

  “I dropped my jeans by the bed. Let me see if I—Aha!” A small beam of light shot through the room.

  “What did you do?” The room had been so dark the sudden light hurt his eyes.

  “I found my flashlight. I’ll light the lanterns.” Laurie got up. Gradually the room brightened, and Wheat could see him going from lantern to lantern.

  “What time is it?”

  Laurie paused and turned his wrist. “Five.”

  “A.M.?”

  “Yep.”

  “Oh God, shoot me now.”

  “I take it you’re not a morning person?”

  Wheat refused to dignify that with a response. “Is it too much to hope there might be coffee somewhere in here?”

  Laurie sauntered to the shelves and began looking through the items that were stocked on it. Wheat was distracted by the way the plaid boxer briefs Laurie wore clung to his ass. Wheat’s fingers twitched with the urge to yank them down and test the resiliency of those tantalizing globes.

  “Found it!” Laurie crowed. “I’m telling you, Lync knew what he was doing.” He brought some packages where Wheat sat on the bed. “And not only coffee, but breakfast, too. What’s your pleasure? Maple sausage, hash browns with bacon, cheese and veggie omelet, scrambled eggs? There’s even filled French toast if you’d prefer.”

  “And Lync did this?”

  “Yeah. They have a current date, so he must have replaced these recently.” Laurie stared at the contents of the bugout bag, which wer
e still spread out on the table.

  “I’ll move those,” Wheat said, and he rose.

  “Thanks. Just set it all aside. We’ll pack up the bag later.”

  Wheat took the first armful of supplies, and placed them on the mattress. When he turned to gather up more, it was to find Laurie with his own armful, and the task was quickly completed.

  “Okay, now which breakfast do you want?”

  “I’m not much of a breakfast person. I’ll have French toast?”

  “Good choice. I’ll have the same. It’s gonna take about fifteen minutes.”

  “In that case, I believe I’ll freshen up.”

  Laurie ducked his head and smiled as he tore open one of the packages.

  “Did I say something amusing?”

  Laurie met his gaze, his smile full-blown now. “You sounded so snooty.”

  Wheat stiffened. He’d been accused of that on occasion, even when he hadn’t meant to be. “I apologize.”

  “No, don’t. It’s…it’s hot.”

  “I believe you’re going to need some correction,” he said, looking down his nose at his companion, whose eyes lit up. But then Laurie’s shoulders slumped. Shit. Was he going to run into the same problem with Laurie that he’d had with Adam? “Do you have some objection?” Wheat resorted to a cool tone that concealed his worry.

  “No. I’m…I’m looking forward to it, but we can’t, not while you’re not well.”

  Wheat’s dick twitched, a very enjoyable way to start the day, even if he wasn’t a morning person. “Then I’d better get well as soon as possible.”

  “You can’t order your body to repair itself at will.” Laurie seemed wistful.

  “Well, no, but I heal rapidly,” Wheat assured him. Most of his friends had broken bones at one point or another when they were kids, and it had taken them at least eight weeks to recover from the fractures, but his pediatrician had been amazed when after only three weeks, the X-rays revealed the nasty break to his ulna had already mended.

  “Look, I’m not risking you, so go freshen up, then sit down and take it easy.”

  “Bossy bottom.”

  “And don’t you forget it.”

  Wheat snorted, but he was secretly pleased Laurie worried about him. All his previous boyfriends had expected him to take care of them, helping with the rent those months when they were short or paying for their groceries when he wasn’t treating them to dinner. Even the ones who were older than him expected him to buy them fancy—read expensive—trinkets.

 

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