by Jenika Snow
Chapter Six
As soon as Maya closed Marius’s door behind her, she leaned against it and breathed out. She’d played a part in there, acting like she was stronger than she really was. He was the first person she’d talked to in far too long, and she couldn’t help but feel warmth at that.
Sherman started whining, and she pulled her thoughts away from the man currently laid up in the bed, his half naked body something that had her thinking pretty inappropriate thoughts.
“I know, boy,” she whispered to Sherman, and pushed away from the door. A she watched the dog run around for a bit, she thought about what she was going to do with Marius. She didn’t know him from Adam, and he could be dangerous. This world was only fit for the strongest anymore, men and women willing to do just about anything to survive. He’d been on the road for a while, or so she assumed, and Maya wasn’t sure what lengths he’d gone to make sure he didn’t die or get turned.
Although Sherman seemed okay with him enough, her dog was still wary, that much was clear, and she was glad she had her protector around. Sherman was also good with judging others, and if they were perceived threats. But inside she felt all kinds of mixed things, emotions that confused her, frightened her, and said she needed to get him better so he could be on his way.
On his way.
It was the smart thing to do to have Marius leave when he healed. This was Maya’s place, her sanctuary, and she’d been determined to make it work for the better.
But what if he’s one of the good guys?
“Good guys” was a loose term anymore, and although she was on alert when it came to him, keeping her weapons close, she wouldn’t have any problem killing him if he posed a threat. She had compassion to a point, but the moment she got a bad feeling regarding him, the twinge in the pit of her stomach, she’d take care of him. She couldn’t be soft anymore.
But weren’t you soft taking him in?
“Oh shut up,” she whispered to the voice inside of her head. She headed to the kitchen to get Marius something to eat. But doing something as mundane as cooking couldn’t keep her thoughts clean. Maya kept picturing what he’d looked like when she’d cut off his shirt to assess his wound.
He was a big man, easily six and a half feet tall, and he was lean, like a swimmer’s build with sinew and muscles. Was he even bigger before the fall? Surely he’d been without proper nutrition for a while. Just thinking of how he might have looked, of how big he probably was, made the very feminine part of her rise up.
But she pushed all of that away. Right now she couldn’t be thinking about anything remotely sexual. Being with a man, thinking about how it would feel to have him over her, thrusting into her, making her remember what it was like to be a woman, was the least of her worries. She didn’t want to think about what she’d lost, about what she could lose all over again if she gave herself over to her emotions.
“I don’t need anyone but myself,” she said softly, speaking to herself, but it was a lie. Having someone else was natural for another human to want, but that didn’t mean she could rely on anyone anymore. The world had changed, and not for the better. The only person she could trust was herself.
****
Three days later
Marius pushed himself up in bed, and pulled the blankets off. He was wearing a clean shirt and pair of sweats that Maya had given him, and was feeling his strength return. The last three days he’d taken it easy, allowed the healing to take place, but he couldn’t just sit in bed anymore. He had to get back in the swing of things, had to walk around, build up his strength that way, as well.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, and breathed out. For the last several days Maya had been tending to him, nursing him back to health, and he was in her debt. Without her he’d have died, that was a fact. He told her he’d leave once he was better, and he would if that’s what she truly wanted, but he hoped he could show her how helpful he could be, how he could protect her if need be.
Marius wanted her to see that having him around would be beneficial. This was, after all, the kind of place he’d been hoping to come across. It had everything that would ensure them to survive: water, land to grow things, a secure location.
It also was the fact he wanted Maya, and with each passing day he found that desire for her growing. She kept her gun close, was on alert, but there were moments when their eyes would lock, when they’d just hold each other’s gazes for a second.
The door opened, and he looked over to see Maya coming in with a tray of food. Steam rose up from the bowl, and she was smiling, but as soon as she saw him sitting up she scowled. Sherman, the black lab that had gotten warmer toward him, came trotting up and butted his head up against Marius’s thigh.
“Hey, boy.” Marius rubbed the old dog’s head, and lifted his gaze to look at Maya again.
She set the tray down on the bedside end table, and glared at him. “It hasn’t even been a week yet.”
“I know, but I have to get up and start moving, have to start earning my keep, Maya.”
She seemed to glare harder at him, and he chuckled.
“You’re going to end up hurting yourself all over again, and then you’ll be right back where you started.”
She was right, but he couldn’t lie here anymore. He had to move around. Standing, Marius felt the twinge in his side from his stitching pulling slightly, but he was careful. When he stood upright he breathed in, feeling his muscles stretch. He needed to get his strength back. He was eating solid food again, his stomach settled enough that he was used to the thicker substance.
He was becoming stronger, but in the back of his mind he kept thinking about the man that had stabbed him, and how he’d run off. What if he came back? What if he’d been planning on coming after Maya, and he’d seen Marius instead? He’d told her about stabbing the guy, but not of his worries. He hadn’t told her any of that, because he didn’t want to frighten her, but the possibility that the fucker would resurface was real.
Marius might not want to frighten her, but Maya wasn’t a shrinking violet. She could hold her own, and deserved to know the worries he had. She seemed to trust him a little more, but he could still see she was wary. He didn’t want her questioning who or what he was, or if he’d hurt her. He wanted to prove to her that he could hold his own, too, could watch over her with his life, and that he could help her take care of things here.
The more days that passed, the more that resolve filled him.
“You doing okay?” she asked, and reached out as if she meant to help him.
“I got it,” he said and smiled at her. Sherman whimpered and butted his head against Marius’s leg again, and he chuckled. “It’s all good, boy.” They made their way out of the room, and he braced a hand on the wall to steady himself. He hadn’t been out of bed in the last six days anymore than was needed to go to the bathroom.
His body had been healing, and he wasn’t accustomed to moving around. But he’d have to get used to this, because too much time had passed with him worrying if that psycho would come after them. Marius could not let Maya get hurt, especially not because he could have inadvertently brought that fucker to her place.
They walked out into the living room, and he sat on the couch, feeling his side start to ache.
“Let me get your food and you can eat out here.” She left for only a moment, and when she returned she had the tray in hand and set it in front of him on the coffee table.
This was the first time he’d been out of the bedroom, and as he took in the living room, saw the little country style knickknacks, the pictures on the wall, and the rustic furniture, he felt this serenity fill him. Everything was outdated, but it was homey, comfortable.
“This is your place?”
“My grandfather’s.”
He nodded. She pointed to the food, and he started eating.
“Where are you from?” she asked.
This was the first time they were actually talking about personal things. They might ha
ve been friendly these last few days, but they hadn’t ever gone in detail about themselves. But Marius wanted her to know about him, so he was eager to tell her about himself. The only reservation he had was telling her about his involvement with the virus and government. He didn’t want her looking at him like an enemy, but then again he looked at himself differently now.
“Originally from California, but I moved to Colorado when I was twenty-two for graduate school.”
She lifted a brow and leaned back in her seat. God, she was so fucking gorgeous with her long dark hair framing her face, and her vibrant colored eyes. He tried not to stare at her more than was appropriate, and definitely tried not to check out her body, but she was curvy in all the right places, and the very male part of him had been without a woman for so long. But it wasn’t just sex on his mind. Maya was smart and strong, and that turned him on, too.
“Graduate school? That’s impressive.” She smiled genuinely.
“At the time it was good, but things change.”
She nodded. “They do.”
They were silent for a few more seconds as he ate, but then he cleared his throat, needing to be honest with her. But before he could tell her about his background she started speaking again.
“Did you have anyone close?”
Although she didn’t come outright and ask if he had been with someone, he knew she was asking if the infection had claimed someone he held dear. For a second he stared at the half eaten food on his plate, the memories of his past resurfacing.
“I did years ago, well before the infection broke out.” He lifted his head and looked at her. “But I worked a lot, was too invested in myself and my career to give her the attention she needed and deserved.” More silence filled the air between them.
“I’m sorry about that.” Maya looked sympathetic. “It’s times like these, when everything we took for granted is gone, that we regret things we did.”
He nodded. She was right, so damn right. Although he hadn’t planned on marrying his ex, he did regret that he’d been a workaholic, that he hadn’t given them a better shot. That’s what he regretted.
“What kind of work did you do?”
Well, he’d been meaning to tell her anyway, so he might as well get it out. Setting his sandwich on the plate, he wiped his mouth before speaking. Maybe he was stalling slightly, because he knew she’d look at him differently once he admitted his involvement concerning the infection. But he had to be honest with her. He had to.
“I was one of the scientists involved in creating the immunization that turned into the infection.”
Chapter Seven
The silence was deafening, and Maya’s face was void of emotion. Maybe she was processing this, or maybe she saw Marius for the man he was—one of the evil ones that had unleashed hell on Earth.
She finally licked her lips and looked down at Sherman. “You don’t even look old enough to be a scientist. I see them as old men with white hair and black glasses.” She chuckled, but there was no amusement in it. She started petting Sherman, and he could feel her emotions coming from her as if they were his own.
“You don’t look very old either.” He smiled.
“I’m twenty-four.”
Damn, she was young. “I’m thirty-nine.”
She lifted her head and stared at him. “You don’t look that old.”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks … I think?”
She smiled lightly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So you made the infection.” Maya stated it without phrasing it like a question.
He breathed out and lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair. He needed a haircut for sure. He’d been able to hack off longer pieces with his knife while on the road, but he seriously needed to get it cut.
Why are you thinking about cutting your hair when you should be explaining more important shit to her?
That’s exactly why he was thinking of stupid things, because he didn’t want to face this now that it was out in the open.
“Can you explain it to me? Explain to me what happened?” The way she asked wasn’t judgmental. She was curious, and he could understand that.
“I don’t know what I can really say that would explain what is happening, because truthfully we don’t know what in the hell happened, not really.”
“Tell me anything.” She sounded more adamant now.
Taking a deep breath, he leaned back on the couch, the food forgotten, and his appetite vanished. “The immunization, at its earliest stages, was a medical breakthrough. We saw properties of cell rejuvenation, documented cases in which the immunization, which originally was just for a new strain of the flu, was healing destroyed and mutated cells. That last part had been a fluke. The subject in which this all came about had cancer, and we hadn’t known about it at the time. They were one of the subjects that volunteered to do a clinical study with us, and that’s when we noticed what was happening.”
She stayed silent, but her focus was solely on him.
“We studied what was happening, watching the miracle, medical breakthrough, whatever you want to call it, and studied it, learned about it.”
“I don’t understand what happened. Didn’t you see the infection effects early on?”
He shook his head. “We were told by the higher ups to release the immunization after one or two years of study. We tried explaining it wasn’t ready, wasn’t fit for injection, but they wouldn’t listen. It wasn’t until it was out and with the public that we started to see things changing. The immunization properties were changing, mutating, and we couldn’t understand why. It had been doing so well in the labs, was stable, and our tests subjects were fine. But, after the fact, the other scientist and myself came to the theory that possibly external elements had been a factor. We will never know because too much time has passed, and the world is destroyed.”
He thought about those clinical trials where they’d been required to stay in a lockdown lab, the test subjects signing waivers, consent forms, and documentation that mandated them to stay in the facility as long as they were getting treatments.
“I’m so confused. How can you have people that had gotten the immunization years ago, show no signs of infection, but once it’s released into the community it changes?” She sounded so confused, and he fucking hated that.
“I don’t honestly have an answer. We couldn’t understand what was happening either. We were ordered to stay in an underground bunker and keep working on it, trying to find out what happened, and a cure.”
“And you didn’t find anything,” she said with a flat voice.
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been wracking my head around all of this. It’s just something that happened, and unfortunately it totally brought down a plague.”
She looked at him in the eyes, but didn’t say anything for long moments. When she finally shifted on the seat he expected condemnation from her, maybe disgust. He expected whatever she wanted to give, because he had already given it to himself.
“And you left the bunker? Why? I assume it was safe down there.”
That wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “I left because I would have died down there. It was nothing but a big coffin, and with two of the scientists dead because they’d gotten the infection,” he left out the fact he’d been the one to kill them, “I knew I had to get out.” He rubbed his hands on his pants, his body tight. “I left a fellow scientist down there, but only because he didn’t want to face what was above ground.”
“He was smart.”
He chuckled humorlessly, but nodded.
“I didn’t mean you weren’t—”
“I know what you meant, and there were times when I was on the road I thought about going back. But I couldn’t stay down there. We were running low on supplies, and dying so far underground, not being able to smell fresh air, feel the sun on my face, wasn’t something I wanted to do. If I was going to die I was going to die trying to help fix the mess I’d helped create.”
“This isn’t your fault,” she said softly.
“It is, Maya.”
She smiled and shook her head. “This just escalated. It isn’t like you knew it would mutate like it did, that it would change people. You sent it out thinking it would help people, help cure cancer. How can you think you are to blame?”
He wasn’t going to argue this with her, because she was trying to make him feel better, trying to make him understand this wasn’t his fault. But it was, to a point, and he wouldn’t be swayed to think differently.
“What about your family? Did they survive all of this?” she asked with this tightness in her voice.
He looked at his hands in his lap. “When this all went down I sent out help for them, wanted them to come to the facility. It was the only safe place for them to be during all of this.” He let the silence hang between them for a few seconds. “But my parents were older, frail even. I got word days later that they found their bodies in their bedroom. They’d been attacked.” He scrubbed a hand over his eyes.
“I’m so sorry.” The way she said it was so genuine, so sincere, as if she knew the pain of losing someone close.
She probably does.
The silence stretched on again, but he didn’t have any words to speak right now. He also didn’t want to envision what those soldiers had seen when they went after his parents. As an only child, and both of his parents not having any siblings, he was truly alone.
“We can only look toward the future now, whatever future that might be.”
He stared at her and nodded.
Breathing out a sigh, she stood. “I’m going for a swim out back.”
“It’s got to be cold as hell for a swim.”