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  “No,” his boyfriend agreed.

  His boyfriend…After all this time, he finally had one; not a hookup, not a trick, but an honest-to-God boyfriend. The night before, after they’d made love, Wheat had said, “We’re…we’re boyfriends now, right?”

  “You want to be my boyfriend?” Okay, totally stupid, Parkinson. In a situation like this, you just say yes.

  “Well…yes. Don’t you want that, too?”

  “Yeah.” Laurie had no objection. Wheat treated him well, arousing him when he spanked him rather than causing real pain, which he could have—Wheat was stronger than he looked. And he didn’t seem to mind that Laurie was just a tin knocker who was no more than fairly decent at his job.

  “Okay, then we’re boyfriends.” Wheat gave a firm nod as if that settled the matter.

  Laurie knew his smile had to be sappy, but he didn’t care. They were boyfriends.

  Now he suggested, “Why don’t you shower? I’ll deflate the mattresses—”

  “We’ll deflate the mattresses. We’re doing this together.”

  Hearing that left Laurie with a warm feeling in his chest. None of the guys he’d met up with at motels—not even Lync—had ever said anything so sweet to him. In spite of the differences in their status, he and Wheat really were a team.

  So they deflated the mattresses and stored them on the shelf where Laurie had found them. They collapsed the card table and folding chairs and hung them from their places on the wall. They showered, washed the sheets and towels, and finally ate the sloppy joes they’d missed the first time they’d made love and downed the antibiotics, which they’d been doing every day. Then he stored bottles of antibiotics and antivirals in a deep compartment in the bugout bag. Finally, since it was too warm for his hoodie, he secured it to the coils of rope fastened to the front of the bag.

  They dressed in jeans, sweatshirts, and boots, and Wheat slid his more or less empty suitcase under the bottom shelf. Laurie watched, almost breathless, as he straightened and arched his back. “What are our plans?”

  “We’ll stop at the piece of shit and see if we can get it running,” Laurie said as he gathered up all the garbage they’d generated in their stay at the bunker. They should be able to find a trash can or a dumpster somewhere along the way in searching for Wheat’s parents.

  “And if not?”

  “We’ll take the food and water and hit the road.” He kept a bunch of reusable bags in his trunk, and they’d help. He’d also take some of his tools. Not that he’d be installing any sheet metal, but they could be good weapons. The bullets for their handguns were only going to last so long.

  “Okay.” Wheat tucked away the radio and as many bottles of water as he could fit in the pharmacy bag, then took all the protein bars from their boxes and added them.

  Laurie was happy about that. His boyfriend remembered what he’d said about having more room without the boxes. He glanced around the bunker. Everything was neat and tidy, and anyone coming after they were gone would be grateful the previous occupants—him and Wheat—had left the bunker in good shape.

  He snuffed all the lanterns, followed Wheat into the outer area, and pulled the inner door shut behind them. Earlier, he’d run out what little gas had remained in the generator and turned it off. Wheat stood just outside the doorway, and it was obvious he was impatient to be on his way. Laurie joined him and closed the outer door as well.

  “I never would have known,” Wheat said, staring at the hill. The door was completely camouflaged, and only someone who knew it was there or who was very lucky would be able to find it.

  “Lync’s pop picked a good place.”

  “He did.” Wheat reached for Laurie’s hand. “I hope you know which way we have to go, because I have no clue.”

  Laurie studied the area, then gave a satisfied nod and said, “This way.”

  And unerringly, he led them to the piece of shit, which fortunately, hadn’t leaked.

  He unlocked the doors, and they piled the bugout bag, the backpack, and the pharmacy bag onto the backseat, and he dropped the bag of trash on the floorboard. A glance at the gas gauge showed he had a little more than half a tank.

  “That’s odd.”

  “What is?” Wheat asked, making sure the back doors were locked.

  “I didn’t think I had this much gas left.” Laurie shook his head. “Obviously I was wrong. Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait, where are you going?”

  “I’m just going to check out the road. I want to make sure no one is nearby.”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “It’s not—”

  “I’m going with you.”

  “Fine. Just stay frosty.”

  “I know. Sick people are dangerous, but well people more so.” Wheat seemed relaxed about the whole thing, but from what he’d told Laurie, he hadn’t seen what either sick or well could do.

  Laurie just hoped they didn’t run into either variety.

  They walked through the underbrush as quietly as they could and peeked out cautiously. “Looks like we lucked out,” Wheat murmured.

  “Yeah.” No one was around. “Oof.” Wheat had grabbed him and held tight to him, and Laurie could feel the tremors shivering through his lover’s body. “Hey. It’s all right. We’ll do fine.” But he held on just as tight.

  “I know.” Wheat’s smile was certain. “I’m just so relieved we’re in this together.”

  “So am I.” Laurie glanced up at the sky. “We’ve got to move before it gets too late.” He grabbed Wheat’s hand, and they hurried back to the piece of shit.

  “Laurie?”

  “Yeah?”

  Wheat shook his head and kissed him. “For luck,” he said.

  Laurie kissed him back. “For luck.”

  They got in, made sure the doors were locked, and buckled up. Yeah, the piece of shit was so old it could almost be considered an antique, but Pop wouldn’t let Laurie buy it until he’d been certain at least the front seat had seat belts.

  “Keep your fingers crossed.”

  Wheat held up both hands to show his fingers were crossed.

  Laurie nodded, put the key in the ignition, and twisted it. For a change, the piece of shit started on the first try, and the engine actually sounded pretty good. Out of habit, he turned on the radio and jumped when he got something. “What the fuck?”

  It was the Walker Brothers singing “The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore.”

  “Well, that’s depressing.”

  “This is Althea McAvoy.” The smooth, warm contralto came out of the speakers.

  Laurie sent Wheat a quick glance. “This isn’t her usual time.” Normally, she was on during the late afternoon drive time, when everyone was heading home from work.

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “You’ve been listening to Music for the End of the World. This is a recording, obviously.”

  “That explains it.”

  Laurie grunted.

  “Before I leave, I’m going to set this to play until we run out of power, which could be at any time. I want to thank you all for being loyal listeners, even after it came out that I prefer girls. Good luck to you all. And sugar—” Her voice became throaty. “—pour the wine, I’m on my way home.”

  “You know, it’s funny,” Wheat observed. “She didn’t start using that signoff until last fall.”

  “Yeah, I remember. There was a big thing with everyone wondering who this sugar might be.”

  Skeeter Davis began singing “The End of the World.”

  “Is that supposed to be funny?” Wheat actually seemed shocked, and Laurie couldn’t help a little snort.

  “Do you want me to change the station?”

  “What are the odds we’ll find anything else?”

  “Not too good, I would think. Except for the emergency stations, WLUV has the most power. At least that’s what Jo told me.”

  “Jo? Oh, yes, your sister.”

  “Yeah.” Laurie
was pleased Wheat remembered. “Though how she knew that…” He put the car in reverse and backed out, going slowly in case a surprise waited for them in spite of their caution.

  But Wheat keeping his fingers crossed worked, because the road was still empty by the time Laurie had the piece of shit on it and headed in the direction where he’d last seen the lavender Rolls.

  They had gone about a mile before they came across the first bodies, bloated and starting to decompose.

  A quick glance to his right showed Wheat pale and gnawing his lower lip. He clenched his hand, then flattened it on the space between them. Laurie reached across and rested his own hand on Wheat’s.

  “It’ll be okay. They’ll be okay.”

  Wheat blew out a breath. “I know.” He turned his head and offered what he probably thought was a confident smile, but Laurie saw the tension behind it, and he loved his boyfriend for trying to boost their morale. “I know.”

  Chapter 14

  The couple stood beside the lavender Rolls Royce. It had taken them longer than he’d expected to get here from the Laurel Hill Community Health Center, first driving until they ran out of gas, and then walking the rest of the way, dragging their suitcases behind them.

  “I’m positive we left the doors open,” the man said as he peered into the empty backseat. He tugged down the mask he wore.

  “Could…could he have still been alive?” His wife followed his action and drew in a deep breath.

  “I don’t know.”

  The woman wrung her hands. “There was so much blood, and McIntyre was so insistent we leave.”

  “It was foolish of us to permit our chauffeur to override our better judgment.”

  “But how were we to know he was ill?”

  Perhaps they should have, but they’d been so stunned by the sudden loss of their son that it had been all they could think of, because in spite of everything, they did love Morrison. McIntyre had found an abandoned car and managed to get it started, but instead of continuing to the interstate that would then take them north to the cottage, he’d backtracked to Laurel Hills. They were able to take shelter in the Health Center, but the doctors and nurses who’d remained behind to help hadn’t survived. The few people who had had given up and left, terrified and cursing the government for not alerting them sooner, certain it was just a matter of time before they also contracted the lethal infection. Edison and Constance Dupuis and McIntyre had stayed, because by that time, it had become obvious their chauffeur was very ill. They’d stayed until the end, and then they’d left.

  Edison shook his head. He was too tired to reassure the woman who’d been his wife for almost thirty years. “We can’t stay here.”

  “But if Morrison returns? How will he know where we’ve gone?”

  “Do you have your lipstick, my dear?”

  “Of course. How can you even think to ask?”

  “I apologize. May I have it?”

  She eyed him uncertainly, no doubt thinking he was beginning to come down with the disease that was decimating the country—the world.

  “I plan to leave a message for Morrison.”

  “You’re so clever!” Relief flooded her features and she rummaged through her large purse. She usually looked twenty years younger, but this situation had aged her—had aged both of them.

  God, he should never have agreed to keep silent when Senator Douglas came to inform him of the senate’s intention to quash any funding that supported the rising belief in climate change.

  “It’s all nonsense,” the senator had said, and Edison had pretended to believe him because he wanted a position for his son on Douglas’s staff. To insure that, he’d donated heavily. It would have been a very prestigious position, suitable for a Dupuis. Edison cared for his son, but God alone knew where the boy had gotten the idea of growing grapes. Unfortunately, Edison’s plans had come back to bite him in the ass. When Morrison learned what was actually happening…He’d been so disappointed, so Edison had reacted reflexively and denied knowing more than the most rudimentary knowledge of the situation.

  “Edison?”

  “Eh? Oh, thank you, my dear.” He took the lipstick from her and thought a moment before going to the rear of the Rolls—that damned Rolls with its distinctive color. Anyone who followed the society pages would know it belonged to them. The message he intended to leave would have to be vague enough that only his son would understand the meaning. The last thing they needed was the hoi polloi arriving on the doorstep of their cottage.

  We’re continuing with our original plan. We hope to see you soon. Morrison would recognize the color of his mother’s favorite lipstick, and he’d know this message was meant for him. Not only would it tell him where to go, but it would assure him his parents were alive and well.

  He went to the front of the Rolls, climbed onto the hood, and scrawled the same message across the windshield. It wound up taking him longer than he’d expected, but finally he was done. He slid off the hood, frowning when he realized his trousers were covered in dust. He tried to brush it off to no avail. Well, he’d just have to ignore it for the time being. They’d left summer clothing at the cottage as they always did when they had it closed for the season, and once they arrived there, he’d change into something more suitable for a summer in the mountains.

  “All right, we had better be off.”

  Abruptly, he sneezed. He took out a handkerchief and discreetly blew his nose.

  “Edison?”

  “I’m fine. It’s just the dust.” He hated that Constance sounded so concerned. It was nothing more than a tickle in his nose, nothing to be worried about at all.

  He began to tug his mask into place, then paused. Was it really worth it at this point? They’d been around McIntyre for three days, and at the end…My God, he had gone so fast.

  “Is that a good idea?” Constance saw his lack of action.

  “Perhaps not, but it’s so uncomfortable. If we run into anyone, we can replace them.”

  “All right.” She always agreed with his suggestions, and now she left her own mask dangling around her neck.

  “Well, my dear. Shall we?” He took his wife’s arm, and they proceeded to walk east, their suitcases rolling along behind them. Their palms were already becoming blistered, but with any luck, they would come across a vehicle with its key in the ignition that would take them to their mountain cottage.

  And if God was with them, their son would join them soon.

  Chapter 15

  Laurie let the piece of shit slow to a crawl as they neared the lavender Rolls Royce. It seemed to be in the same condition as when he’d last seen it, except for something that was scrawled on the rear window.

  “It’s on your side,” Laurie said. “Can you make out what it says?”

  “It’s a message. It looks like it was written in lipstick.”

  Laurie stopped the car, but reached out and caught Wheat’s arm. “No, not yet.” Wheat had been about to get out to examine the words more closely. “We still have to be careful.”

  “Sorry.” Wheat looked around to make sure no one was lurking nearby, then rolled down the window and stuck his head out. “It says, We’re continuing with our original plan. We hope to see you soon. I recognize the lipstick it’s written in. It’s Evangeline’s Coral Dream.”

  “Do I want to know how it is you’re familiar enough with that brand of lipstick to recognize it?”

  “Ass.” His boyfriend was almost fizzing with excitement as he grinned at Laurie and tried to launch himself across the bench seat. His seat belt kept him firmly in place, so he hit the release and then launched himself at Laurie.

  “Oof.”

  “It’s my mother’s favorite brand. I remember her saying something about it being long-lasting, but this couldn’t have been written too long ago. Laurie. This is from my parents. We have to get to the cottage. They’re alive. They’re okay!”

  “Okay. Which way—” Wheat slammed his mouth down on Laurie’s, causing t
heir teeth to click together. I should object, I suppose, Laurie thought. But God, it was hot. “—do we go?”

  Wheat gave him a final kiss. “North. We have to head north.”

  “Buckle up and close your window.” Laurie made a U-turn and began driving in the direction they’d come from. “I don’t think we passed them, unless they hid when they heard the piece of shit.”

  “We’ll find them.” Wheat sat on the edge of the seat, leaning forward as if that would get more speed out of the car.

  “Sure we will.” On the side of the steering wheel away from his boyfriend, Laurie crossed his fingers. He hoped.

  * * * *

  Three hours later, they spotted an SUV chugging along down the road at a sedate clip. Laurie tapped the horn rather than leaning on it, not wanting to alarm the driver.

  He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t the SUV coming to a stop in the middle of the road or the front passenger door being flung open.

  A strawberry blonde tumbled out, followed by a tri-colored collie. “Laurie!”

  “Oh my God, it’s Jo!”

  “Your sister?”

  “Yeah.” Laurie threw the piece of shit into park, unfastened his seat belt, and jumped out himself. He knew Wheat had also gotten out of the car, and he’d introduce them later, but for now, he caught his sister up in a hug and swung her around.

  “Laurie! Laurie!” She was laughing and crying at the same time. “You’re alive!”

  “I am, and so are you. How did you know it was me?”

  “I recognized your car, silly.”

  “I’m so glad I found you.” He hugged her so tightly she squeaked, and reluctantly, he loosened his grip when what he wanted to do was just hold onto her. To finally have a member of his family here and safe was almost overwhelming. He’d pushed all thoughts of Mom and Pop and his other sisters from his mind, because otherwise it would tear him apart, not knowing what happened to them. His family could be a pain in the ass, but they were his family, and he loved them.