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CHAPTER THREE

AVA

It took two hours and a lot of cat snuggles for my hands to stop shaking. And another two hours to figure out what I should do. I’d never hated being single more in my entire life. Screw serenity. I wanted someone to tell me everything was okay and not as fucked up as it had looked.

I set another bag by the door and went to my computer. It was the last thing I needed to pack before I buried myself under a pile of blankets and crashed.

The stress of the day and my whirlwind thoughts were catching up with me. I just wanted to forget everything and finish packing so I could head out at first light.

However, scenes from earlier kept replaying in my head. The undisturbed, snow-covered roads as I’d left. The quiet town. The broken door. The dead man. But what I kept coming back to was the writing on the wall.

Evacuations. Don’t trust anyone.

What did it all mean? What had happened? When had it happened?

The only way to figure any of that out was to leave the cabin and head somewhere that might have news. Silver Bay had been the closest town. Duluth was the nearest big city. After that, the twin cities.

While I knew I could drive to Duluth and back in a day, I wasn’t sure what I’d find. What if Duluth was empty like Silver Bay? Even as I told myself that wasn’t possible, part of me feared it might be.

Don’t trust anyone.

“Is there anyone even left to trust?” I asked Pete.

He did his little questioning “mrr” back at me.

“I know I only checked Silver Bay, but you didn’t see what I saw, Pete. There weren’t any tracks on the roads, and that guy…he’d been like that for a while. Someone would’ve found him if there were more people around. And the evacuation message on the wall really makes me think there aren’t.

“If Silver Bay was evacuated, a clean-up crew should have come in to help fix whatever caused the evacuation. The only disaster I saw was the missing people. It wasn’t like there was ten feet of snow or a blizzard or anything. It’s just a normal Minnesota winter out there. That means it wasn’t a natural disaster, Pete. And if it wasn’t that, then what was it? How far out does it go? Duluth? The cities? I hope Kylie is with Mom and Pops.”

Pete started purring, which helped me feel a little calmer as I packed away the cords. Once I was done, I left the box on the desk, stoked the fire, and checked the time.

It was just after nine.

“One last bathroom run, guys,” I said. “Keep the bed warm for me.”

I bundled up and let myself out of the cabin. A heavy, wet snow had started falling about an hour ago. If not for the light from the side window, the way around the cabin would have been pitch black. It didn’t matter though. I’d been here so long that I could walk the path to the bathroom with my eyes closed.

The crunch of wet snow under my boots muffled the sound of my light breathing. I didn’t fully notice either noise. My thoughts were still whirling with what I’d need to do when I woke up and the problems I might encounter along the way. Did the truck have enough gas? What if I got stuck?

Preoccupied, I turned the corner of the cabin and almost ran into the man standing there.

A startled “eep” ripped from me, and I vaguely saw him raise his hands above his head in an “I surrender” pose as I backpedaled and pressed a hand to my thundering heart.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said quickly, hands still above his head.

It took a few seconds to understand the significance of the moment.

I wasn’t alone.

Relief and gratitude flooded me. With another cry, I threw myself into his torso and wrapped my arms around his waist. He was big. Solid. The tears from fear I hadn’t even realized I’d been keeping at bay poured out of me in wracking sobs.

“It’s okay,” he said. “You’re okay.”

One of his large hands lightly settled on the top of my head. It felt so good. So comforting.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

He thought I was crying because of him? I shook my head against his chest.

“I went to Silver Bay,” I said through my tears. “There was a dead guy in the hardware store, and no one else was there.”

I sniffled and wiped my face on my coat sleeve without releasing him.

“I thought I was alone.”

“Isn’t there anyone else here?”

The question rang like a gong in my head, and in my mind, I saw the words on the wall.

Don’t trust anyone.

My tears instantly dried up as my pulse kicked up a notch. I’d been so relieved I wasn’t alone that common sense had vanished. What sane woman hugged a strange man in the dark? Alone? None. Although, after the day I’d had, could I still claim to be sane?

I released my hold on him and would have backed up, but he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to keep me pinned against his chest. My cheek brushed his tear-dampened shirt.

“Please let me go,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Will you run?”

I was thinking about it, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him that.

“No.”

He slowly released me, and I stepped back to look up at him. The light from the cabin was too dim to see him clearly, but I saw his general shape. He towered over me by a good foot and a half. The large, solid stature I’d found comforting only moments ago now seemed more threatening. I wished I could see his face to read his expression.

I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t.

“Do you know what happened in Silver Bay?” I asked finally.

“I think most of the people evacuated,” he said.

“A house I checked had a message about evacuation. From what?”

“The infected.”

His answer confused and worried me. “People were sick? How long ago? Will I get sick?”

I hadn’t touched the dead man, but I’d been close enough to him. I’d also gone into that house.

“It was months ago. You won’t get sick unless you’re bitten.”

Bitten? Was he serious?

“Were you bitten?” he asked.

“No. Is that why you wanted to know if there’s anyone else here? Are you afraid we’re sick?”

“No. I heard you talking to Pete.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell him Pete was my cat, even though I’d pretty much already confessed I was alone.

The silence between us stretched until I shifted from one foot to the other. Why was he here? What did he want? If the sickness was months ago, why was that guy still in the hardware store?

“Are you cold?” he asked.

“No. I’m okay. Where did you come from?”

“Missouri. My brothers and I helped survivors build a community safe from the infected and the hounds.”

Missouri? That was a haul from here. And survivors? That didn’t sound good. It couldn’t be that bad. And… “Hounds?”

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“Since the beginning of November. About five months now.”

“And you heard nothing? No howls? No bombing?”

“Bombing?” He was freaking me out now. No… he wasn’t. What he was saying was. He seemed pretty calm, which was good. I needed a lot of calm.

I saw him reach up to run his hand over his head and saw that he didn’t have a hat. Neither did I. I reached up and felt how wet my hair was getting.

While I didn’t want to invite him inside, I also didn’t want him to leave. He obviously knew more than I did. Was he safe, though?

Don’t trust anyone.

Did I have any choice? He was the first person I’d seen alive in months. Would I be stupid to send him away and head out on my own in the morning without a clue about what was going on? Yes, I would be.

“Listen, I have a lot of questions that I think you can answer. If I invite you inside, what are the chances I’m going to end up hurt or used in some way?”

“There will be no chances. I won’t let anything hurt you. I promise.”

He’d said “anything,” not “anyone,” which I found weird and concerning. But I didn’t see that I had any other option if I wanted answers.

“Okay. Then, if you don’t mind waiting another minute, I’m going to use the bathroom that’s behind you first.”

He stepped aside, and I moved to grab the screen door handle.

“My name’s Ava, by the way.”

“My name is Gyrik.”

Gear-ick. A unique name. I kind of liked it.

“It’s nice to meet you, Gyrik. And I hope that doesn’t change in the near future.”

I closed myself in the bathroom, turned on the light, and glanced at the door, wishing it had a lock. Since it didn’t, I hurried to use the toilet, washed my hands and face, and brushed my teeth for the night. Once I was finished, I hesitated to open the door.

“Are you still out there, Gyrik?”

“Yes.”

“I’m curious. If you’re from Missouri, why are you all the way up here?”

“We’re looking for survivors. There aren’t many humans left.”

I turned my head to look at myself in the mirror. My “I’m in so much trouble” expression was for two reasons.

One…he’d just said what I’d feared. That there weren’t many of us left.

Two…humans? Why did he say that like he wasn’t one?

“Because of the sickness?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you sick?”

“No. My brothers and I are immune. That’s why we were able to save so many humans. Most humans scream when they first see us or hate us because we look different. Thank you for not screaming and for hugging me instead. It’s the first time I’ve been welcomed like that.”

Humans? He and his brothers looked different? Part of me wondered if I’d just hugged some kind of crazy person who would murder me in my sleep. But not everything he was saying sounded crazy.

If I hadn’t spent hours driving around Silver Bay, I would have thought all the talk about sickness was a setup for some kind of practical joke.

But I knew it wasn’t. There hadn’t been a soul in Silver Bay.

I stared at the door, really, really not wanting to open it. But damn if I wasn’t curious too.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Not really,” I admitted. “I’ve been alone for months, and it didn’t bother me at all. But if you’re telling the truth, which there’s a good chance you are, I’ve been more alone than I realized, and it’s kind of terrifying.”

“You don’t need to be afraid. You’re not alone anymore. I’m here. I promise I won’t leave you. And, if you want, I can take you back to Missouri. There are people like you there.”

“People who didn’t know the world ended?”

“No, people who survived it.”

I’d survived something without even knowing it. How? Why?

“Are you going to come out, Ava? It’s snowing harder now.”

After taking a steadying breath, I opened the door. The light from the bathroom illuminated the immediate area and the man standing in it.

He was huge, both in height and muscle. He wore leather pants that molded to his legs, leather boots that reached mid-calf, and a dark T-shirt. Everything about him blended with the shadows behind him, even his grey skin.

Grey.

My gaze swept up to his face, and I froze.

“Most humans scream when they first see us or hate us because we look different. Thank you for not screaming.”

Don’t you dare scream, Ava, I told myself as I stared at his very non-human eyes.

A golden outer ring surrounded his yellow-green irises and vertical pupil. Vertical like a cat’s. His ears were pointed, too, and clearly visible, thanks to his close-cropped hair.

It all looked real. How?

The tip of his ear grew darker as I stared, and he reached up to rub his ear. The gesture screamed nervousness.

I was making him nervous?

“I think I missed a lot while I was here,” I said faintly.

He nodded slowly. “I think so, too.”

“Would you like to come inside the cabin? I’d really like to hear about what happened.”

Without waiting for his reply, I turned off the bathroom light and closed the door behind me.

The chaos in my brain whispered that he might kill me before I reached the front. But it also said I’d probably die of some mysterious sickness anyway, so I didn’t see how my fear even mattered.