Eden's Promise (8 page)

She couldn’t help herself, she leaned her head against his shoulder, huddling into his warmth because the attic was cold. He curved his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. Snuggling into him was surprisingly easy, and she found the scent of him reassuring in this nasty place.

Beneath them, the dogs circled. So strange for Eden to see breeds she’d grown up with gone feral. The shepherd mix that was apparently the leader braced his front paws on the fourth rung of the ladder and growled, drool dripping. Through her fear, she felt sorry for the dogs, who must be starving.
 

“You didn’t want me to shoot. Why?”

“We don’t know who else is in town. Just because we haven’t seen people doesn’t mean they’re not here. A gunshot would be heard for miles. But if it had come to it, I would have shot them. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

The shepherd tried to put its hind leg on the bottom ladder rung, only to slip off. Thank God.
 

“I hadn’t had a dog since I lived at home, until I got Huck,” he said, his voice low and conversational, soothing. “And I didn’t want one when he started following me. I kept trying to chase him off. But he’d get closer every night, until one morning I woke up and he was snuggled against my side, just like he belonged there. Couldn’t send him off then. Some nights he was the only thing that kept me going.”
 

She wanted to ask him more about his journey but now was not the time. “Seems weird to talk about pets when these things want to eat our faces off.”

He chuckled and drew her closer. His heartbeat was calm beneath her hand. How did he do that? She tried to will her breathing to match his.

Some of the dogs lost interest and tore into some of the taxidermied animals, then growled in frustration to find them lacking in flavor and sustenance. They returned to pace around the bottom of the ladder. The shepherd jumped, and hung a bit on the rungs. For a moment, Eden thought the dog would make it up the ladder, but he slipped and fell, hitting his side on the floor with a yip of pain. When the other dogs stuck their noses close to him, he bounded to his feet with a snap of his teeth.
 

Eden ducked back against the wall and closed her eyes. “Maybe we should close the door.”

“I’d rather see what they’re doing. Maybe they’ll leave soon. But we should stay here for a bit until they forget about us. Then we need to get out of town.”

“I wonder where the nearest refugee camp is.”

“Probably not too far. But we need to be careful in the approach. We can’t tell them where we’re from. I don’t even think we should tell them our real names. We don’t want to tell them we’re from the island. The fewer people that know about that place the better.”

“That’s what my dad said.”

“We should hide our weapons, just take a handgun each. That won’t raise suspicion. Most people must be carrying something these days.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t care to let them know I was a SEAL, either. No telling what they’re doing with military men. I wouldn’t be surprised if they conscripted them. So we should come up with a story. I’m thinking it’s best to say we’re married.”

“We don’t have rings,” she said, then cursed herself. What a dumb thing to think of.

“We sold them for food. We’re newlyweds, at least we were when it all went to hell. Still, going to be tough to convince them we’ve been traveling together almost a year if we don’t know each other better. So you follow my lead, and I’ll follow yours.”

She nodded, her heart nudged in her throat. “We should make up a story for you, about what you were doing before everything happened.”

“I don’t know, a vet?”

“And if they need you to help in some medical capacity? Could you?”

“Probably not to the level a vet would.”

“We need to come up with something that’s not as valuable in this new world. We don’t want them to think they need you, not if we need to get back to the island.”

“Good thinking. Okay, let’s say I was a cable repairman. Shouldn’t be much call for that with no power.”

“I suppose.”

“When did we get married?”

“The summer before it all went to hell, I guess. How did we meet?”

“High school. I was a few years older. Let’s use the truth as much as we can.”

“I didn’t realize you remembered me.”

“Eden, it’s a tiny island. I remember you.”

“Okay.” She dragged the word out. “I don’t know if I can remember to answer to another name.”

“We’ll keep our first names, but I’m thinking we should pretend to be married so they’ll keep us together.”

Her pulse jolted. She didn’t want to chance being separated from him, but playing his wife held a different challenge.

“We’d have to figure out what we need to know about each other. I mean, on the plus side, we’ve known each other for a lot of years, know each other’s families.” His voice was soothing in the darkness, and his fingers moved lightly over her hair. “We’d just have to pretend to be newlyweds, so we won’t seem so awkward with each other.” He chuckled softly. “I don’t even know if marriages are legal anymore. But you know what I mean.”

“Would you want to get married again? After Bev?”

“No.”

No hesitation. Well, then.
 

He blew out a sigh and went on. “This is no time to start a family, to think about kids. We have no idea what the future will bring, how permanent anything is, if we’ll be alive next year.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to hold onto something if you find it?”

“You and Damien, you mean?”

She snapped her head around and almost hit his nose again. “What? No. No. I mean, we thought about it, but...”
Then you came back
. No, she couldn’t say that. “No, you’re right, I guess. Will you tell me about her?”

He shifted behind her. “I don’t—I haven’t talked about her.”

“Not about finding her, not about fighting your way to get to her. I was just wondering how you met.”

“How we met?” He sat back, putting some distance between them. “We met at a bar. She was there with some girlfriends, I was there with some guys from my team. One of her friends was a real SEAL junkie. She’d read some romance novels about this one team and she wanted a romance novel of her own, I guess. She was kinda pissed that I picked Bev instead. I don’t think they stayed friends much longer after that. Bev wasn’t really looking to get involved with a guy who was active duty, but after that first night, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I guess I was pretty single-minded. Then it wasn’t just sex anymore. I was coming home to her house after a mission. I met her family, spent holidays with them, and finally she said yes when I asked her to marry me.” His breath hitched, and he blew it out on a sigh. “And then she died because I couldn’t save her. The end. So no, not a big believer in happy endings.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting her hand over his because she needed to touch him. “I’m sorry you weren’t with her, that you weren’t there in time.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t even on the continent when she died. She had no chance in hell. At least you have that.” He pulled his hand away from hers.
 

But she had an emptiness inside her that hadn’t been there when they’d climbed up here.

***

The dogs eventually gave up, but both Aaron and Eden had their weapons drawn when they left the garage and headed down the street in the gloaming. They remained silent so they could listen for the telltale sounds of claws or growls, but they managed to make it to the edge of town without encountering any two- or four-legged beasts. Though Aaron was reluctant to be out in the open, they followed the main highway from town, knowing it would lead to a refugee camp. Eden’s feet throbbed, her shoulders ached from tension and she was miserable. Not that she’d wanted a future with Aaron, exactly, but that he’d told the truth. What was the point? What was the point of looking for her sister, who was likely dead? Wouldn’t they all be dead sooner or later? What good was all the planning her father did so they could live, if they couldn’t have a life?

As they moved out of town, they began to see signs—battered, weathered signs—for the refugee camp and headed forward. She couldn’t be hopeful, not if the signs were in such shape. Would the camp still be there? Would it be taking in more people? The government might not expect any more people to show up, this long after the event. And if not, where would people go next? South, maybe, toward Oregon. This was already their second night on the mainland, and Aaron had only allotted them three more. How far could they get before they had to turn back?

Despair dragged at her by the time they reached the outer perimeter of a tall chain-link fence with barbed wire around the top—not the most welcoming place, though the fence looked well-maintained. Lights burned in the distance, looking alien after over a year with no power. The camp must have generators, but it seemed a waste of fuel to power them all night long. Still, the lights gave them a good look at the camp, a mixture of plain trailers and tents, some metal buildings that looked like gymnasiums thrown in.
 

Aaron and Eden found a nearby culvert and tucked away the weapons they’d brought. Eden’s stomach tightened at the idea of carrying only her handgun when she didn’t know what to expect, but she didn’t want to be seen as a threat, either. Once that was done, they followed the fence line until they spotted the recessed gate, guarded by two men. Aaron made a sound of disgust that the guards didn’t notice them sooner. He took Eden’s hand and drew her close, the way a husband would, and the guards snapped to attention, on their feet, their guns angled across their bodies.
 

“We’re looking for a place to stay, maybe get some sleep,” Aaron called, his tone friendlier than she’d ever heard it. “You taking people in?”

One of the men, younger than Eden, frowned beneath the security light. “We haven’t had anyone come along in awhile.”

“So you still have people in the camp?” Aaron motioned beyond the gate.

Not a good sign, either. If people still lived here, wouldn’t they want more permanent structures?

“A few. Most have moved on.”

“So you have beds, then.”

“Sure.”

“Could you tell me—does someone here have records of who has been here?” Eden hefted her pack on her shoulder. “I’m looking for my sister.”

“Sure, we have people who take names,” the other guard said, still tense. Eden wondered how many nights they’d been on patrol without encountering any people.
 

“How many people live here now?”

“Maybe three thousand.”

Eden shifted impatiently. She wanted to get inside, see if her sister was still here, if she’d been here and gone. Maybe if she could find proof her sister was alive, maybe Aaron would want to continue looking for her beyond the five days.

“Where did you come from?” Aaron asked.

“Montana. We wanted to get close to the ocean, you know, a food source.”

“Is your family here?”

Was Aaron going to talk to this kid all night, or would they get inside and find out what they needed to know?

The boy nodded. “Feels safer, you know?”

“Where are you folks from?” the other guard asked. He was older, maybe in his late forties.
 

“North Dakota. Trying to get to California. You know, someplace warm.”

The older guard chuckled. “You’re not there yet.”

“No,” Aaron said amiably. “But we’d like to stay a night or so, someplace where we don’t have to be on our guard.”

“Let’s get you checked in, then. We don’t usually check people in at night, but it’s been awhile since we’ve had anyone new, so I’m thinking they’ll make an exception.” The older guard unlocked the gate and admitted them. He went through a perfunctory check of their packs, lifting his gaze to Aaron’s when he saw the alcohol.

“For trading, if we need to,” Aaron said, holding the other man’s gaze.

The older guard left the bottles alone, zipped up the packs, then motioned for the younger guard to take over. Aaron closed his hand around Eden’s and led her, heart thumping, into the camp.
 

Chapter Six

“I just need to wake up the camp administrator,” the young guard, Joel, told them as they approached the row of tents. “Wait here.”

Eden flexed her fingers against Aaron’s hand as the young man approached one of the prefabricated buildings and rapped on the door. After a few moments, a woman maybe in her mid-thirties opened the door, wrapped in a robe, her blonde hair curling wildly around her face despite her attempt to calm it into a ponytail. She swiped at the curls impatiently and glared at poor Joel.

“What is it?”

He motioned to Aaron and Eden. “We have some newcomers. I know we don’t take people at night but it’s been awhile and I thought we could make an exception. They’ve come from North Dakota.”

“North Dakota?” She narrowed her eyes. “All right, fine.” She tightened the robe and came down the steps. She headed down the walkway before looking over her shoulder and beckoning them to follow.