She smiled at him. “A joke.”
It took him a moment, then he relaxed and smiled, his face going to a little darker shade of red. She liked that a lot. A man who could blush. How great was that?
“So what would you suggest I do?” she asked.
He pointed at the shuffled footprints in the hallway. “If they’re the type to go looking for people, they’d find you here easily. And worst case, if they are the type to go looking, I don’t think you’re going to want to be found.”
“I agree,” she said. “Have I ever told you I hate bikers.”
He smiled. “Yeah, think I heard that before.”
“Good,” she said. “Just wanted you to know.”
“I’ve got the Baxter building completely secured,” Matt said. “And enough cameras around the outside of the city to watch these people’s movements until we get to know them better.”
She stared at him, then glanced down at the image of the bikers working their way along the freeway. She could hear their bikes through the window she had left open in the room behind her, the sounds echoing like thunder on a clear day. She didn’t trust Matt completely by a long ways, but she had a hunch he was prepared for something like this.
She could go with him, or she could just head away from the gang, over the hills to the west and back to the beach. But that wouldn’t solve the problem she had come here to solve. And the thought of leaving Matt without getting to know him twisted her stomach more than going with him did.
But she also knew he was right. She couldn’t stay here in this room. Okay, so choose. She didn’t want to head home yet. So going with him, for the moment, seemed to be the best of a bunch of bad choices.
“So, the offer of breakfast didn’t work to get me to go back to your place,” she said, “so now you bring on a biker gang. Original, I must say.”
He looked at her, puzzled for a moment, then she smiled at him again. “Another joke. Lighten up, will you?”
He laughed. “Just not used to anyone’s jokes but mine.”
“Yeah, I know that feeling.”
“I’ve got most of lunch cooked, if my cat hasn’t eaten it all by the time we get back. We can just move the picnic from Powells to my place. From there, we can watch what these visitors are going to do through my security system.”
“You have a cat?”
“I’m owned by a cat,” Matt said, smiling that wonderful smile of his at her. “He lets me live with him.”
“I have two and I miss them a lot right now.”
“Cat fix and a fried chicken picnic. That’s the best offer I can make.”
The sounds of the motorcycles got even louder over the city, almost echoing in the hallway. The idea of facing a motorcycle gang scared her beyond words. But at the same time, she didn’t want to just run. She wanted to get to know this man standing across from her. Staying to get to know him might very well risk her life, but as Matt had decided yesterday, coming to her unarmed, sometimes the risks were worth the payoff.
“Best offer I’ve had in three years. I’ll take it.”
His face lit up. “Great.”
Together, they checked her suite to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything before heading out into the street. For some reason, she had a feeling, she wasn’t coming back.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MATT LED THE WAY through the wrecks and debris that covered the sidewalks and streets toward the Baxter building. The sound of the motorcycles echoed through the tall buildings like a dangerous storm, sometimes louder, sometimes only distant, but clearly coming.
Matt was very relieved that Carey had agreed to come back with him. At the same time, he was worried. He didn’t really know this woman, yet he was inviting her up into his apartment, and along the way, just from sheer necessity, he was going to show her some of his security measures. Not very smart on his part, if she turned out to be a dangerous problem.
Nothing he seemed to be doing around this woman was very smart when looked at from a position of survival. Yet, there was something about Carey that made him want to trust her. He just hoped that instinct was coming from his gut instead of the desire to have companionship after three years. He had learned, early in school, that sometimes his brain migrated to a position a distance below his belt, and when down there made very bad decisions, especially concerning women.
Actually, decisions made below his belt were always about women. This didn’t feel like one of those decisions. This felt like Carey could be a friend, like Betty the cheerleader had been. Of course, he wanted more than just friendship, but that would come later, after a lot of trust was built.
But right now, those bikers coming in on Interstate 84 made any slow and easy progress getting to trust Carey impossible. He was going to have to trust her now, if he wanted to help her stay out of the way of that group. And since he wanted to spend more time with her, and didn’t want her chased out of town, or even worse, killed, then he was going to have to take some chances.
And on the other side, he knew she was taking some large chances as well with him, chances she probably shouldn’t be taking. Clearly the picture and the sounds of those motorcycles had spooked her. Enough that she thought he was the better of two bad options at the moment.
At least she was making jokes about it. She had gotten him a few times already. It was going to take some time to get used to her sense of humor.
He got to the main door of the Baxter building and glanced back at her.
She paused, looking up and down the street. “Aren’t they going to be able to follow us in here as well? If they wanted to, that is.”
He pointed to the sidewalk they had just walked along.
She nodded. “No footprints. Smart.”
“I keep all the sidewalks in a two block radius of this door blown free of dust.”
“That has to be a lot of fun,” she said, smiling at him.
“If you call digging dirt out of your ears for days later fun. And also I sweep this lobby regularly, along with most of the other hotels in a few block radius. They might figure out someone’s around here by the lack of dust, but they won’t know exactly where.”
She nodded. “Impressive. You’ve given this a lot of thought and a lot of work.”
“I read a lot of science fiction as a kid,” Matt said, remembering the large bookshelf in his bedroom when he was in high school. “And I’m more afraid of the human animal than any other. Especially in situations we find ourselves in now.”
She nodded at that statement as well, so he went on.
“Besides, before all this, my job was with a security company. After two years with them, this kind of paranoid thinking sort of got in my blood.”
“And that’s supposed to encourage me?” she asked, smiling at him.
“Sometimes paranoid is beautiful,” he said, trying to make a lame joke in return. “Wait until you see the rest of my paranoid delusions.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” she said.
He headed in through the big glass doors to the lobby of the Baxter building. The lobby had a marble-like floor, with a number of skeletons of people scattered around the large area, including two security guards behind the desk. He had started to clear out the bodies in the lobby one day, then realized that if he did that, he would be leading someone right to him. He hadn’t noticed the bodies in a year, but now, with Carey with him, he was seeing everything, as if he was looking through her eyes.
The bodies in the rest of the building he had moved out, laying them all together in a large meeting room in City Hall. It was the best he could do for them, and that task alone had taken him almost two weeks.
She had followed him inside the lobby and was scanning the large area as they walked, their steps echoing in the high-ceilinged space.
“Stairwell doors are locked and bolted,” he said, pointing to the staircase he sometimes used. “And I can block the entrances at the top as well so it would take a tank to get through. I also
locked all the other stairwell doors in the buildings around this one. Same reason as blowing off the dust.”
She nodded and said nothing.
He took a key out of his pocket and inserted it into a slot beside the third elevator call button. Then he touched the button. The elevator door slid open without the customary chime.
He stepped back and smiled at her. “Going up?”
She looked shocked. “You have enough electricity to run an elevator?”
“I do,” he said, proud of the accomplishment of hooking up one elevator to an electrical circuit off a series of generators in a maintenance building on the roof. It had been a difficult job, especially triggering extra generators to start when he touched the call button on any floor.
She stared at the open elevator. For a moment, he didn’t think she was going to get in, so he stepped inside, holding the door open for her just like he used to do for people in the days before the disaster.
She stared into his eyes for a long few seconds. He could see worry about trusting him, and also intelligence in her eyes as he stared back. She had studied him, just as he had studied her. She didn’t like taking this much risk, and neither did he, but for the moment they both needed to.
And clearly, she was as attracted to him as he was to her. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not, but it felt right.
Finally, she nodded and joined him on the elevator.
“Sorry we couldn’t have got to know each other a little slower,” he said as the door closed and they rode upward in a strained silence for a moment. “I was really looking forward to our picnic.”
“So was I,” she said.
“I figured you would want to get out of the way of the biker group if you could, and this is the best, and safest place, since you don’t have a home and security of your own set up here yet.”
“I appreciate the thought,” she said. “And if this group turns out to be a nasty bunch, I’m going to be really happy you helped me stay out of their way.”
She sighed, then went on. “Actually, when you showed up, I was about ready to run over the west hills and get away from here. I’m glad you talked me into staying.”
“So am I,” he said as the elevator slowed and the door opened onto his penthouse apartment. “I can’t eat all this fried chicken by myself.”
She laughed as he stepped out of the elevator ahead of her, dropped his two guns into the rack beside the door, and headed past the kitchen counter toward the security room.
“Make yourself at home,” he said. “Water and other drinks in the fridge. Bathroom is off to the right. I’m going to see where our friendly bike riders are. Then I’ll work at finishing our picnic lunch.”
He didn’t even look back. He figured the best way to get her comfortable with his place, and with him, was to take the chance and let her just look around on her own.
He had taken this many chances so far. He just hoped one more wouldn’t kill him.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CAREY STEPPED OFF the elevator and stood in silence as Matt dropped his guns on a rack and headed for his security room. She couldn’t believe that she was actually in a penthouse apartment with a man she had only met the day before. How stupid was she becoming? She was going to have to sit down and have a good talk with herself when this was over, if she survived it.
And when she got back to the coast, she was going to have to think a lot more about security. The picture of those bikers coming down the freeway had scared her more than she wanted to admit.
Sure, she knew that most people who rode motorcycles were just regular people, and the ones that went on those “runs” were no different. Even most of the motorcycle clubs were just lawyers and doctors and corporate business people having a good time on their weekends.
And she knew it was logical, with the condition of the roads, for people to travel these days on motorcycles. But the image of Diana, one of her best friends in high school, laying in that hospital, beaten unconscious and raped by two bikers from San Francisco, had haunted Carey for years. Anytime she saw anyone in leathers, she stayed away. Didn’t matter who or what they were.
She pushed the image of Diana back and looked around at the bright, sun-lit apartment beyond the foyer area.
Matt had left himself clearly unarmed. Again, he was trusting her blindly.
She watched him disappear into the open doorway as the elevator door slid closed behind her. She glanced back at it and then, without thinking, reached over and touched the call button.
The door slid open without a problem, the empty inside of the elevator inviting her to step back in.
She stared at the open elevator for a moment, thinking maybe she should just go down to the street. From there, she could somehow manage to hike out of town and up into the west hills where she doubted anyone on a motorcycle could find her, even if they knew she existed.
But for some reason this man trusted her. Not only to approach her yesterday unarmed, but to leave her alone like this in his apartment. He was doing everything he could to ease her worries, including not locking her in here.
She shook her head. She had come to the city to find other people, see who else was alive. Now she was doing that, and she wanted to run away. How crazy was that?
“Crazy,” she said softly.
She had to admit, having Matt come for her today when he discovered the bikers made her feel good. She felt lucky to have met him, actually. Maybe she could get really lucky and get to know him even better.
She pushed that thought away, then repeated to herself softly, “Go slowly. Go slowly.”
She let the elevator door close again. It seemed she was staying.
She slipped off her backpack and leaned it against the wall beside Matt’s gun rack. He had three nice rifles, one was a twenty-two about the size of hers, one clearly was a deer rifle, and a third with a scope that looked like a sniper rifle more than a hunting rifle. From this height, that sniper rifle could do a lot of damage. She wondered how good a shot he was with it. Maybe someday, she’d ask him.
He also had left the pistol he had been carrying, but she didn’t recognize its size and brand at all.
She stood her rifle up beside her pack, keeping her pistol in her belt where she could grab it quickly if she needed to. She was taking enough chances, no point in taking any more than she had to.
A large archway in front of her led out of the foyer area and into the apartment. She moved inside, slowly, looking around as she went. High windows and skylights made the entire space seem as if it were as much outdoors as inside. It also smelled of fried chicken like her mom used to make, and fresh bread, something she knew well from her own bread-making at home.
Then something dawned on her.
The apartment was cool.
Oh, my, god, he had air-conditioning. The room was comfortable, actually, even with the sun beating in through the tall windows.
Matt had air-conditioning running. She was almost in love with him now. Any man who could get air-conditioning running on a hot summer’s day deserved her respect. She could feel the cool draft swirling on her bare arms. This guy really was good at mechanical things.
She had a hunch, that wasn’t all he was good at.
She pushed that thought back hard, then paused and listened for a moment. She couldn’t even hear the generators running. He had said they were on the roof. They must be in a silenced room or something.
Power to run a full kitchen, lights, computers, air-conditioning, and elevators. His generator set-up must really be something very powerful.
The apartment had an organized feel to it. And it was clean, very clean. Just standing in the entrance made her realize how dirty and sweat-covered she was, just from the walk across town.
A large kitchen area filled the middle of the space to the left, with hanging pots and just about every imaginable appliance on the counter tops and shelves. Clearly Matt liked to cook, and seemed to know what he was doing, from the l
ooks of the set-up of the kitchen.
A large bowl of fried chicken sat half covered on one side of the counter, and a wicker basket filled another corner of the table. She smiled at that. He had found a picnic basket. He really was one for details.
She walked through the kitchen, touching the countertop, noting where things were. She could cook in this place, that was for sure. It was set up as a chef’s kitchen. And right now, she was very hungry. She hadn’t really had that much breakfast this morning, originally thinking that she would save herself for the fried chicken. She glanced at her watch. It still wasn’t noon, but even still, she was going to need something soon.
A plate of deviled eggs sat near the picnic basket. She couldn’t help herself. She took one and the wonderful mustard and egg flavor melted in her mouth. They were the best she had ever tasted, even better than her mother’s. If these eggs were any sign of how good a cook he was, she might actually gain weight hanging around here.
She took another egg and the complaints from her stomach eased.
It looked like he had gotten interrupted by the bikers right at the moment he was about to start cooking some ears of corn. His garden must be really good. She couldn’t get corn to grow in her garden on the coast. Too damp, wrong climate.
A pile of books sat against the window, and one entire interior wall of the large apartment was covered in books.
There was a couch and a large, overstuffed recliner in front of a giant screen television. And another matching chair in front of a window facing Mt. Hood. Two books were on the floor beside that chair, and another on a small end table. Clearly Matt liked to read. Maybe as much as she did. That was good.
She had almost exactly the same television set-up at home, same big screen and all. The only difference was that instead of one of her cats sleeping on the couch, Matt had a big, older-looking gray cat who was now staring at her, its tail twitching.
“Who are you?” she asked the cat.
The cat’s ears went back slightly, and again its tail twitched, as if it were about to bolt. She decided to give the cat some room, so she turned toward a deck area on the other side of a large, sliding glass door. It looked inviting, but hot, so she just stared at it for a moment without going outside, then turned to study the apartment some more.
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