Love and Decay, Boy Meets Girl by Rachel Higginson

I couldn’t say, was
that I was beginning to think this was the only way for me to
survive too.
    We hatched a plan to approach them in the
morning and then crawled into our respective beds. The room was
completely quiet; still and pensive with silence. I closed my eyes
but couldn’t fall asleep. There were too many things on my racing
mind, plus the very real possibility Reagan would try to sneak out
of here in the morning without alerting us.
    I wasn’t sure how long I laid there, thinking
about what I would say to her, how I would convince her that
joining forces was the only way to go, but when the first hand of a
Feeder fist landed on the steel encasing we’d melded over the
stairwell I wasn’t even surprised.
    I sat up in bed and realized this was the
exact opportunity I needed.
    She couldn’t leave me, if she needed me.
    But I would let it be her choice. I would
always, always let it be her choice. Well, kind of. I wasn’t going
to hit her over the head and drag her back to my cave. But our
futures were connected now and she would just have to accept
that.
    I got up, slipped my boots on and armed
myself to the hilt. We were all ready for this. We had a protocol
in place, and an escape plan that had been hatched and practiced
since we arrived here. I walked over to the girls, intending to
help them get ready. I caught the girls looking a little dazed and
disoriented in the bed they were sharing.
    Taking a breath for courage, I said, “Girls,
we’re moving out in three minutes. Throw some shoes on. You don’t
have time to pack.”
    She snorted again. “Like, we’re not
completely ready to go.”
    And then they jumped up and threw some shirts
over their tank tops and shouldered their packs.
    “Ready,” Haley said with a smile.
    I watched, fascinated, while Reagan threw her
hair on the top of her head and tied it together with a rubber
band. Incredible.
    “Do you have any more of those you want to
share?” she asked me, eyeing my semiautomatic hungrily.
    “Over by Vaughan.” I pointed at our healthy
stash of weapons we’d been accumulating since we began this whole
journey. Hell, half of them were from even before that. Our house
hadn’t exactly been against the second amendment. “Take your
pick.”
    And then I stood stunned, half-paralyzed as I
watched them bounce over to drool over guns, knives and
bullets.
    Damn, I was already in love with this
girl.
    I kept an eye on her while she armed herself
and her friend and while I helped my brothers get ready and pack up
Page. We worked seamlessly, a well-oiled machine of preparedness.
Our skill with planning for the worst and understanding which
obstacles to expect would always save us. Our dad trained us well.
We could navigate these uncertain waters simply because we already
came equipped with internal compasses.
    Finally, we stood in a clustered group,
waiting for the melded shut elevators to be pried open. I found
Reagan in the crowd and chose to stand next to her. I now had a
place in her life, this was me stepping up to fulfill it.
    Could I finally blame this on destiny? Fate?
A greater being that thrust us together- right time and right
place… all that?
    It was hard to say. But only because the
impossible life we lived made believing in something bigger and
wiser than me nearly impossible.
    Had someone asked me this same question
before the world went to shit, then I might have believed in cosmic
forces shifting earth plates and stars aligning until Reagan and I
were put in each other’s paths.
    Now, I was less concerned with what destiny
had in store for us and much more determined to make the best of
this beautiful prospect.
    Maybe I wasn’t spiritual anymore, but I had
definitely turned into an opportunist.
    Reagan was my opportunity.
    “This leads to the outside?” she asked me in
a strong voice. She wasn’t even afraid. The entire room quaked and
echoed with the pounding fists of hungry Feeders trying to get
inside to eat us and Reagan was