organizing, but I know he must be pleased. He’s a planner—a trait he has tried desperately to instill in my mother. She all but runs into his arms once she really realizes he’s here and I’m overwhelmed by their connection. Suddenly, more than anything else, shit seems very, very real.
“Alex,” he says. “Come here.”
I give him a hug and look over his shoulder. I see we’ve got company. “Who’s that?” I ask, eyeing the men in a similar uniform. I feel underdressed. Exposed. What are they afraid of? Us?
“Some people from the lab—well, that one you know.” He pointed to one of the men. “I think you call him “LabGuy.””
He looks up and I catch sight of those killer blue eyes. “Oh, right, hey LabGuy, welcome to our lovely home. I’d offer you something to eat or drink but well, we don’t have enough.”
“Alex!” my mother cried.
“Too soon?” I smile weakly.
My father shook his head. “He’ll take your blood and give you the injection. I need to talk to your mother a bit.”
They disappear down the hall and LabGuy comes over with his weird looking lab kit/briefcase. The other guy waits by the door and I ask, “What’s his deal?”
“Security.”
“You and my dad got a security detail to visit the house?”
He nodded and pulled out his materials, arranging them on the table between us.
“Are you like apocalypse famous or something?” I wait for the crinkle by his eyes, the one that tells me he’s laughing at my jokes, but it never arrives. His normally bright, happy blue eyes are rimmed in red. He’s tired.
Per our routine I gave him my hand and let him swab it with alcohol, feeling the coolness before the sting of the puncture. “So tell me the truth, LabGuy, is this the last time I’m going to see you?”
“This is your last injection. That’s why it was important for us to come here today.”
“Am I the only one still getting these shots?”
His eyes tightened. “Classified, Alexandra, you know that.”
“I thought with the end of the world and all maybe you’d cave.”
He wrapped the Band-Aid around my finger and moved to give me the injection in the crook of my arm. “If it makes you feel better, if I could tell anyone, it would be you.”
“Aww, thanks, LabGuy, you know just how to warm a girl’s heart.”
I wince from the pressure of the injection, happy it’s the last one. This time I get a bandage with smiley faces on it. I watch as he packs up the equipment, feeling once again a heaviness in this moment. I lay my hand on his and meet his eyes. Quietly, I ask, “Things are bad, aren’t they.”
His eyes hold mine for a beat. He says nothing but we both know the truth. I watch as he latches the lab kit and stands, leaving me with a throbbing finger and a dozen questions. I ask the only one I think he’ll truly answer. “You never said, will we see each other again?”
LabGuy stares at me and all I see are his sad eyes. For some irrational reason it all comes down to this, like a game of chance or risk. Like he’s a Magic 8 Ball and my future depends on his reply.
“I really, really hope so, Alex.”
And with that he shuts the door.
Chapter Twenty-One
~Now~
Wyatt sleeps for hours. Eight to be exact. I watch him while he sleeps—trying to figure out his story. His looks fall somewhere between ROTC recruit and off-the-grid mountain man. He’s lean, but I see curves of hard muscles on his arms and shoulders. His bag lies at his feet and I can’t help but wonder what he carries in it. Something makes me doubt it’s family photos and his favorite book.
It’s the smell of food that finally rouses him. The kitchen has a gas stove and I’m able to heat a couple of cans of soup. It feels like a luxury.
The couch creaks and whines under his weight and I watch him as he rubs his face trying to acclimate himself. The top side of his hair is matted down, plastered to the side of his face and sleep lines from his sweatshirt zig-zag
“Alex,” he says. “Come here.”
I give him a hug and look over his shoulder. I see we’ve got company. “Who’s that?” I ask, eyeing the men in a similar uniform. I feel underdressed. Exposed. What are they afraid of? Us?
“Some people from the lab—well, that one you know.” He pointed to one of the men. “I think you call him “LabGuy.””
He looks up and I catch sight of those killer blue eyes. “Oh, right, hey LabGuy, welcome to our lovely home. I’d offer you something to eat or drink but well, we don’t have enough.”
“Alex!” my mother cried.
“Too soon?” I smile weakly.
My father shook his head. “He’ll take your blood and give you the injection. I need to talk to your mother a bit.”
They disappear down the hall and LabGuy comes over with his weird looking lab kit/briefcase. The other guy waits by the door and I ask, “What’s his deal?”
“Security.”
“You and my dad got a security detail to visit the house?”
He nodded and pulled out his materials, arranging them on the table between us.
“Are you like apocalypse famous or something?” I wait for the crinkle by his eyes, the one that tells me he’s laughing at my jokes, but it never arrives. His normally bright, happy blue eyes are rimmed in red. He’s tired.
Per our routine I gave him my hand and let him swab it with alcohol, feeling the coolness before the sting of the puncture. “So tell me the truth, LabGuy, is this the last time I’m going to see you?”
“This is your last injection. That’s why it was important for us to come here today.”
“Am I the only one still getting these shots?”
His eyes tightened. “Classified, Alexandra, you know that.”
“I thought with the end of the world and all maybe you’d cave.”
He wrapped the Band-Aid around my finger and moved to give me the injection in the crook of my arm. “If it makes you feel better, if I could tell anyone, it would be you.”
“Aww, thanks, LabGuy, you know just how to warm a girl’s heart.”
I wince from the pressure of the injection, happy it’s the last one. This time I get a bandage with smiley faces on it. I watch as he packs up the equipment, feeling once again a heaviness in this moment. I lay my hand on his and meet his eyes. Quietly, I ask, “Things are bad, aren’t they.”
His eyes hold mine for a beat. He says nothing but we both know the truth. I watch as he latches the lab kit and stands, leaving me with a throbbing finger and a dozen questions. I ask the only one I think he’ll truly answer. “You never said, will we see each other again?”
LabGuy stares at me and all I see are his sad eyes. For some irrational reason it all comes down to this, like a game of chance or risk. Like he’s a Magic 8 Ball and my future depends on his reply.
“I really, really hope so, Alex.”
And with that he shuts the door.
Chapter Twenty-One
~Now~
Wyatt sleeps for hours. Eight to be exact. I watch him while he sleeps—trying to figure out his story. His looks fall somewhere between ROTC recruit and off-the-grid mountain man. He’s lean, but I see curves of hard muscles on his arms and shoulders. His bag lies at his feet and I can’t help but wonder what he carries in it. Something makes me doubt it’s family photos and his favorite book.
It’s the smell of food that finally rouses him. The kitchen has a gas stove and I’m able to heat a couple of cans of soup. It feels like a luxury.
The couch creaks and whines under his weight and I watch him as he rubs his face trying to acclimate himself. The top side of his hair is matted down, plastered to the side of his face and sleep lines from his sweatshirt zig-zag
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