by M. K. Dawn
Travis snickered. “Sounds like the stereotypical cowboy. I was matched with a seamstress. Sweet girl and all, but we have zero in common.”
“She’s very pretty,” Vicky added. “What about you, Dr. Egan?”
Sloan’s face reddened as she recalled her conversation with Evelyn.
“It’s Major Archer,” Evelyn answered.
“Guess someone was allowed to choose who they spend forever with.” There was a nastiness to Vicky’s tone Sloan didn’t care for.
“On the contrary,” Sloan snapped, her stomach souring at the accusation. “We were just as surprised as the rest of you.”
Travis tilted forward. “But Archer knew about the asteroid, didn’t he?”
The table fell silent. This was the first time she’d heard the word asteroid spoken since the announcement. It was more painful than she could ever imagine.
“Sorry.” Travis covered his face with his hands. “It just slipped out.”
“How did this happen?” Vicky sniffled and her chin trembled. “How did we end up in this place, the last people alive?”
“I want to believe we’re the fortunate ones,” Evelyn said, “but that feels inappropriate with so many…gone.”
Travis dropped his hands. “It’s unbelievable.”
“Don’t,” Vicky warned. “I can’t stomach another one of your conspiracy theories.”
“But—” He opened his mouth, ready to argue but must have thought better of it. “Fine. I won’t say a damn word.” He sprang out of his seat and stormed away from the table with such force the contents of his plate splattered all over his tray.
Vicky sighed. “That was rude of me. I should have listened to him spout off his ridiculous theories. It’s how he copes with impossible situations.”
Sloan grabbed her tray and stood. “I’m going to head back to my room as well. Attempt to catch up on a few hours of sleep. See you both tomorrow.”
She rushed out of the dining room and found Travis waiting by the elevator.
He turned around as she approached. “Hey.”
“Are you all right?” Sloan had never seen him so angry.
“I just want some damn answers.”
“Answers about what?” Sloan asked as they stepped inside.
He glanced upward. “What the hell is going on out there?”
“You don’t believe there was an asteroid?”
They stopped on floor three—Travis’ floor—but he didn’t exit. “It makes no sense. An asteroid that size would have been detectable by even the most amateur of telescopes, but there was nothing. No media coverage. No rumors. No crazy blogs sermonizing the end of the world.”
Sloan hadn’t thought of that. “Do you think it’s all a ruse? The burning city we were shown not real?”
“No. Something happened up there. Something so horrendous The Bunker protocol was set into motion. I just don’t know what it could be.” The corner of his mouth twitched. “Of course, I could be way off base here. I have a wicked imagination. Always have. Ever since my mother passed away when I was six, my brain comes to terms with tragedy in the most unusual of ways. See you tomorrow, Sloan.”
“See you then.” He left her alone in the elevator with dozens of questions swimming around in her head. She’d never paid much attention to astronomy, but what Travis said made sense. Why had no one heard anything about the asteroid? Did the news break while they’d been sequestered down here? Or was Travis’ conspiracy theory not a theory at all? Could the world have fallen by some other means than a natural phenomenon? And if so, what could have been so terrible their government felt the need to cover it up?
ONE YEAR LATER
CHAPTER TEN
Their alarm was slated to go off in thirty minutes, but Archer was already wide awake. For the past hour he’d laid in bed, staring at the sleeping woman not five feet away. It was the dream that had woken him. The same reoccurring dream he’d been having for the past few months. Each time they varied a bit—location, clothing, position—but the theme hadn’t faltered.
“Are you watching me again?” Sloan asked, voice heavy with sleep. “Because I told you how uncomfortable that makes me.”
“I’m not watching; I’m just lying here.”
“Another dream?”
He’d made the mistake of telling her the truth—partial truth—the first time she’d asked why he woke so early. Now she questioned him every time it happened. “Yes.”
She flipped over on her side to face him. “Would you like to talk about it?”
How do you tell a woman who has shown no romantic interest in you in the year you’ve lived together that every few nights you have an erotic dream about her? “There’s nothing to tell, Slash.”
“Doubtful.”
“What, you think I’m hiding some deep, dark secret from you?”
She propped her head on her hand. “Whatever keeps waking you in the middle of the night is significant. Maybe it would help if you talked about it.”
The only thing that would help him now would be to get laid. It had been nine long, excruciating months since he’d been with a woman.
A few weeks after the announcement, Sloan made it clear she did not want to pursue a romantic relationship with him—a common sentiment among many who were paired. No one wanted to be with a partner they didn’t choose. So, people began to hook up with who they wanted. Archer found himself involved with a gorgeous seamstress named Rebecca who happened to be matched with Travis. They didn’t have much in common besides their love for whiskey and sex, but damn those three months they’d spent together were fun.
It didn’t take long for the unauthorized fraternization to get back to the execs, who immediately forbid sexual relationships with anyone other than the person you were paired with. This didn’t go over well and there were still some who had secret affairs, but he wasn’t one of them. Damn his integrity.
“Archer, are you listening to me?”
He flipped his head back in her direction. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“It’s unhealthy to keep your emotions bottled up. If you don’t find a way to release them, you’ll explode.”
He snickered. If she only knew how right she was.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing, Slash.” He tossed his feet over the side of the bed. “You’re right. I do need to find a way to deal. Maybe a hot shower will help.” Or a cold one.
“We can hit the gym before breakfast, if you’d like. Exercise is an excellent form of stress relief.”
“Sure. Let me just hop in the shower.”
Sloan frowned. “Why would you take a shower before the gym?”
“It’s my morning wake up call. That and coffee.”
“I’ll start the pot.” She threw off her blankets. “Aren’t you going to shower?”
“Are you planning on watching me get up?”
“What does it matter if you have pajamas on?” Her eyes narrowed. “You do have pajamas on, don’t you? Like we agreed on the first day we became roommates?”
Archer sucked a short breath through his teeth. “Well, the thing with that is, I can’t sleep in pajamas. I tried—for weeks, actually—but each night I ended up throwing them to the side. Too hot.”
“Then what are you wearing?”
“Boxers.” He began to lift his blankets. “Wanna see?”
Sloan whipped her head away. “No, no, no. Just go to the bathroom. I won’t look.”
“You sure know how to make a guy feel wanted. If the roles were reversed and a man had that reaction to seeing a woman in nothing but her underwear, she would be pissed.” He retrieved some gym clothes from his dresser. “Start crying. Asking what was wrong with her. Is she fat? Is she ugly? Why doesn’t he want her?”
She groaned. “I get your point and I apologize for my reaction. I’m sure any girl would be happy to see you in your underwear.”
“Damn straight.” Archer laughed as he headed towards the bathroom. She was
so easy to mess with it was almost unfair.
He swiped his wrist across the shower panel. It didn’t take long for the water to heat up and he wasn’t planning on wasting any more of his fifteen minutes than necessary.
Most of the tension built up from his dream was gone, thanks to his little tiff with Sloan. Not that he would have thought to relieve that tension with Sloan just on the other side of the door. The walls might be made of rock, but the doors were so thin a curtain could have been used as a viable replacement.
He showered and dressed quickly, knowing Sloan would be anxious to get to the gym. She wasn’t what he would call a patient person.
“Do you want anything to eat—banana, apple perhaps—before we head out?” Sloan asked as he stepped out of the bathroom.
“Nah.” He poured himself a coffee. “Don’t want anything holding me back from kicking your ass today.”
Sloan dipped her sliced apple into a scoop of peanut butter and took a large bite. “This combination of carb and protein is a perfect pre-workout snack.”
“We’ll see who crosses the finish line first today.” Since the first time they raced, before the world fell, they’d kept score on whom out-raced whom. Most days their records were close—within a race or two of each other—but in the past few weeks, Sloan had managed to ease by him every damn time. She swore nothing had changed, but there was this little twinkle in her eye that told him otherwise.
“Well if the past is a good indicator…” She grinned.
He tossed back his coffee, ready to wipe that smile off her pretty face. “You going to sit there all day eating that apple or are we going to do this?”
***
Archer wiped the sweat from his brow for the third time this morning and gawked at the seemingly un-winded woman beside him. “Okay, Slash. What the hell is your secret?”
“Like I told you, Archer. There is no secret.”
“You haven’t even broken a sweat! And we’ve run, what, five miles this morning? Not jogged but full out sprinted to the finish.”
“Actually, I was jogging.” She hurried off the bench and towards the exit.
He sat there for a full five seconds, mouth opened before he could comprehend what she’d just said. “What the hell?” His voice echoed off the walls of the crowded room. People stopped mid-stride, mid-pump, mid-crunch and gawked. Archer paid no mind to the attention; he was too busy chasing after the coy woman.
“Hey. You caught up,” she teased when he joined her at the elevator. “Finally.”
“What do you mean you were jogging?”
“The term means I was not running at full capacity.”
“I know the definition,” he snapped. “What I’m asking is how all of a sudden beating me by a few seconds is only jogging for you?”
She entered the elevator and he followed. “It’s not all of a sudden.”
“What do you mean by that?” But before she could speak he added, “Don’t spout some bullshit definition either.”
“I only meant I’ve been holding back for a while now.”
“Holding back?” He threw his hands in the air. “Holding back? I…how…what?”
The doors opened to the dining hall. “All valid questions there, Major. But if you would like me to answer any of them, you might want to be a bit more specific.”
He dragged his hands across his face as they got in line for food. God, he was wearing off on her. When he first met Sloan, there wasn’t a sarcastic bone in her body. Now she could fire back with the best of them. “You know, Slash, you’re sounding more and more like me every day.”
“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment.”
“I don’t know if I intended it as one.”
She responded with a dismissive shake of her head—a gesture he was presented with quite often.
They retrieved their plates of eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit and headed for their usual table—the one they shared with Sloan’s colleagues and their significant others. It worked out well as Evelyn had been matched with his good friend Cavl, both already at the table.
“Good Morning, sunshine,” Cavl said. Then he turned to Archer. “And look at what the cat dragged in. What the hell happened to you?”
Cavl and Archer had a love-hate kind of friendship. One based on talking as much trash as possible—more so from Cavl than Archer.
“Sloan and I went to the gym this morning.”
“Oh.” Evelyn tilted her head. “Does that mean you won’t be acting as my personal trainer at lunch today?”
Sloan’s eyes widened.
“Personal trainer?” Archer asked. “How long has this been going on?”
“Sloan’s helping me become a better runner.” Evelyn looked between the two. “I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Oh…she hasn’t. Not one word. Have you, Slash?”
Sloan shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a big deal.”
“Now Evelyn, when Slash is training you, does she run as well?”
Evelyn narrowed her eyes. “Yes. Am I missing something?”
Cavl laughed. “Nah, baby. It’s just Sloan here has been beating up on Archer pretty good lately and he couldn’t figure out why.”
“Oops.” Evelyn giggled. “Sorry, Sloan.”
“Are you happy now, Archer? You know my big secret. I’ve been running twice as much as you and now I’m twice as fast.”
He stuffed a bite of eggs into his mouth. “That’s a bit of an overstatement.”
“What is?” Travis asked as he and Rebecca took the empty seats between Sloan and Evelyn.
Archer couldn’t help but notice Sloan shifted a few inches closer in his direction. The movement was so slight he wasn’t sure she realized she’d done it. It had only been a few weeks since Sloan found out about his and Rebecca’s fling. Travis had let it slip when he confronted Archer to ensure there were no lingering feeling between him and Rebecca, now that the pair had decided to make their relationship official. This type of coupling was jokingly known as the joining of the beds phenomenon—the couple decided to move their two full beds together to make a king.
Since then, there had been an uncomfortable weight between Sloan and Rebecca that Archer didn’t understand. When he asked about it, Sloan denied any hard feelings.
“Archer and Sloan are having a small disagreement on who’s the faster runner,” Evelyn said. “Seems Dr. Egan has been double dipping. Not only has she been training with us but also with Major Archer.”
Sloan’s fork hit the table with a clang. “This is ridiculous. There is nothing to do here but run. There are no medical emergencies. No surgeries. I can feel my skills slipping as we speak.”
“There’s a bar,” Rebecca said and everyone turned. She twirled a blond curl around her finger; it was a playful gesture Archer had seen too many times to count. “And a jukebox. Several of my friends and I hit the place up at least once a week. Travis has even gone a few times.”
“Where has Travis gone?” Vicky asked as she and her match—Alex Diaz—slid into the last open seats between Cavl and Archer. “And why didn’t I know about it?” Her southern accent was heavier than before, living with Alex and his Texas twang. Her figure, however, had slimmed, much to her dismay. She told them on many occasions how much she missed her curves. It was The Bunker’s restricted calorie diet that had caused her and everyone else that was on the heavier side to lose any excess weight. Though she was the only one he ever heard complain.
“To the bar, silly. A few nights ago.” Rebecca smacked her red lips. “You and Alex were there.”
Alex removed his cowboy hat and sat it in the middle of the table. “Yes, ma’am, we were there. Though I doubt my little sugar plum would remember much of the evening. The whiskey did her in.”
Vicky walked her fingers up Alex’s chest. “I remember what happened after we left the bar? In the elevator?”
“Vicky,” Sloan warned.
“Oh,” Vicky waved her off,
“don’t be such a prude.”
Archer could hear Sloan’s breathing hitch, her checks turning all sorts of red.
“Moving on,” Archer interjected. “I assume Rebecca brought up the bar as a suggestion. For tonight, maybe? A break from the mundane?”
“That sounds like fun!” Evelyn glanced at Cavl, whose attention was focused a few tables away on a group of VIPs. You could always tell the VIPs from the attendees as they were the only ones amongst them over the age of forty. “Cavl? What do you think?”
“Huh? The bar? Sure, baby. Whenever.” He stood and kissed her on the forehead. “I need to speak with a few of my colleagues before I head to The Farm. See you for lunch.”
“Who are they?” Sloan asked.
“Geologist, meteorologist, geophysicist, to name a few,” Archer answered. “They all study the earth in one way or another.”
“Do you think they’re talking about the surface?” Rebecca asked, her voice barely audible. “People tend to talk when they’re in the shops without noticing the people around them. I’ve heard bits and pieces about tests being conducted. For what, I have no idea.”
The whole table leaned closer.
“The weird thing is,” she continued, “over and over I heard the word spreading, but never in context. My imagination goes wild, of course. But still, what could they be talking about?”
Archer’s wristband chimed, interrupting the conversation. He did a quick swipe to find a meeting with the execs had been added to his calendar. Start time: twenty minutes. Not enough time to shower, but if he left now he could at least get out of his gym clothes and put on his uniform without being late. “I gotta go. So the bar tonight? Eight?”
The whole table nodded.
He turned to Sloan. “That is, if I’m invited. I’m kinda the outcast in this crowd.”
Sloan smirked. “Since you were here for the discussion, it would be rude not to invite you.”