Tomorrow Land Part 13

"You're awake," she remarked. He looked over, surprised that she was sitting beside him, awake herself. His little Florence Nightingale. The moonlight reflected off her ocular implants, and her face was illuminated. He hadn't been lying when he'd said she was beautiful, and he had to fight the urge not to start kissing her all over again, to remind himself that beauty was also a beast.

"Yeah," he said, stretching his hands over his head. "Barely."

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't mean..."

He waved her off. "My fault," he said. "I got carried away. Pushed you too far. You were just... you were just saying no-in your own special way."

She snorted softly. "That's one way to look at it."

He wanted to protest, tell her it wasn't his fault-that she had been just too d.a.m.n irresistible, staring at him like that with her beautiful, sweet face, bright from the fire's glow. The way her body had melted against his, the way her mouth had pressed up against his own. He was only human after all.

Feeling warm and cozy, he reached out with his hand, only meaning to squeeze her own. But, to his surprise, she jerked away as if she'd been shocked. He looked at her, questioningly, not sure what he'd done to upset her.

"I think it's best if we just... stay friends from now on," she said quietly, staring into the fire and refusing to meet his eyes. "The rest... it was a mistake. A lapse in judgment. After all, I have my mission. I can't afford to be distracted." She looked over at him. "And you, Chase Parker, are a big distraction." And with that p.r.o.nouncement, she rose to her feet and walked quickly into the motel room, closing the door behind her and leaving him alone with the sleeping children.

He stared at the closed door, not sure what had just happened. One moment they'd been cuddling. The next, she'd fled the scene. Hurt and confusion swirled through his brain as he replayed her words over again. A distraction. Was that really all he was to her? A distraction to her real mission? Just getting in the way of what she was after? He scowled. That was cold, even for her.

His mind flashed back to that day in the rain. When she chose her father over him. In a way, he realized, nothing had changed. She was still choosing her father, her Disney destination. And he was only a distraction, once again, to her ultimate end game.

His confusion dipped into anger. Whatever. She didn't want him? That was fine. He wasn't going to chase her anymore. He'd already done that once. He'd already waited in the rain. He'd already suffered his disappointment. He was no longer that boy. He would no longer wait.

She didn't want him? Well, then he didn't want her either.

He grabbed the bottle of pills and popped the cap once again, ready for sleep.

Chapter Twenty-one.

"Dad, Dad!" Peyton cried as she took the bas.e.m.e.nt steps two at a time. "Dad, are you down here?"

The workshop door swung open and Ian rushed out, looking concerned. He closed and locked it behind him. "What's wrong, baby?" he asked, studying her. "What happened?"

She buried her face in his chest, searching for comfort and rea.s.surance from the man who'd sired her. Her mom hadn't been home. "Oh, Dad, it was awful," she said, tears filling her eyes. "I still can't believe it."

He led her over to the weight bench and sat her down. "Take a breath," he instructed. "Then tell me everything."

"We went to Mt. Holyoke Hospital," she said. "And there were guards with machine guns. They wouldn't let us in. So we snuck around back and looked in the windows. There are so many sick people, Dad," she said, choking on the lump in her throat. "The place is overflowing."

Her dad nodded. "Yes," he said. "This Super Flu is real. And it is a big deal. The government's not going to be able to contain word of it much longer, no matter how they censor the media." If Peyton didn't know better, she'd think he looked pleased at the idea.

"But that's not the worst of it," she sniffled. "There was this... trash compactor, I guess. And we looked inside. And there were bodies. So many bodies." She broke down again.

Her father pulled her close and she sobbed into his chest. "Shh," he said. "Remember what I told you. When the apocalypse comes, we'll be safe. I've made preparations. Every day I'm making more. We're going to be fine. You're not going to get sick. I can one hundred percent guarantee that."

She wasn't sure how that was possible, but she was too concerned with the next part of her story to get off track. "That's not the worst thing," she said, pulling away and looking her dad in the eye.

He scrunched up his face. "What do you mean?" He sounded concerned for the first time in their conversation.

She took one deep breath, swallowed, then another. "There was something else in the trash compactor," she said. "Some kind of... I don't know. You're going think I'm crazy."

He grabbed her shoulders with his hands so hard that she cried out, startled. "Tell me," he said, his eyes wide.

She shook her head. "I don't know exactly. It was like... like... a monster."

Her father dropped his hands, released her, and turned. "Where was this again?" he asked. "Mt. Holyoke?"

Peyton nodded weakly. "But I don't know if it's a good idea to-"

But her dad was already unlocking the door to his lab and disappearing inside. A moment later he returned, pistol in his hand. Peyton's eyes widened. She'd had no idea her dad even owned a firearm. It certainly wasn't legal. Not after the Firearms Act of '18.

"I'm going to check it out," he told her. "You stay here. No matter what happens, do not leave the house until I get back."

If she'd been scared before, she was petrified now. "What is it, Dad?" she asked. "Do you know?"

"No," Ian said, heading up the stairs. "But I'm sure as h.e.l.l going to find out."

"Trey, Trey!" Chris cried, touching his brother on the shoulder, trying to rouse him from his sim-induced torpor. "I gotta talk to you."

Trey pulled off his VR goggles and looked at him, annoyed. "Guy," he said. "You know better than to interrupt a man in a sim. I was in the middle of... well, I was in the middle of that sim I loaned you. You never checked it out, and d.a.m.n if you shouldn't be sorry."

"I am sorry," Chris said. He sat down on the floor. "But I gotta tell you something."

"Something more important than the Paperdoll Ms. March 2030?"

Chris just stared at him. "You know Mrs. McCormick, right? From down the street?" When Trey nodded, he quickly related her disappearance. "And I found some other reports, too. So me and Peyton Anderson decided to go check out Mt. Holyoke Hospital to see what was going on."

Trey looked bored. "And?"

Chris related the rest of the story. About sneaking around the back of the hospital. The sick people. The dumpster. "And Peyton thinks she saw some kind of creature like a zombie!"

Trey started laughing.

"I'm serious!" Chris cried, frustrated at his brother's reaction. He should have known.

"I'm so telling Mom to take your media player away," Trey said, his face full of mirth. "Those old movies you watch have obviously warped your fragile little mind."

Chris frowned. "I'm trying to tell you there's something really wrong going on. People getting sick. And dying. And I think the government is trying to cover it up."

"You're beginning to sound like Peyton Anderson's dad. Is she like this, too? 'Cause, man, she is kinda hot, but if she's spouting end of the world bull she's likely to be a drag in bed."

"I don't care about that." Chris slumped into an armchair, realizing he'd never be able to convince his brother to take him seriously. At least not when he lacked any evidence. "I just wanted to make sure we're all safe."

But his brother just patted him on the knee and went back to his sim.

Chapter Twenty-two.

The wasteland that was once the Eastern Seaboard of America stretched out endlessly before them. Highway 95 was the least depressing part, just a parking lot of rusted-out cars, broken gla.s.s and debris. Peyton supposed most of the people had gotten out of their cars and staggered off into the wild to die and be disposed of by nature. It was when her group left the highway that they truly felt the horror of the apocalypse. Ghost towns with nothing but wind whistling down the vacant main streets and skeletons lying everywhere.

They'd been traveling for three days, and everyone was starting to get cranky and saddle sore-though they were relieved they hadn't had any more difficult situations. Peyton knew at some point they'd have to take a day off to rest and recover, and maybe with the kids even have a little fun. Somehow. Otherwise this little band of travelers was bound to mutiny.

When they'd started out, she'd been hopeful they'd run into more people. Other pilgrims, perhaps. Maybe rag-tag refugee camps. Small makeshift societies built up from the rubble. But so far they'd seen nothing. Absolutely no one. The only signs of life anywhere were occasional mutilated animal corpses, likely compliments of roving bands of Others.

So far they'd been lucky and hadn't had any more run-ins with Others. But the creatures were out here. She'd seen glimpses out of the corner of her eye, only to have them disappear when she turned her head. It was disconcerting to say the least. For what were always depicted as brainless creatures in the movies, these seemed awfully patient.

But the worst part was Chase. Since that night of their shared kiss, he'd kept his distance from her, riding far in front of her during the day and hanging out at the opposite end of the camp at night. And he'd go out of his way to make sure they were never alone together. That they never touched. Their conversations were stilted and when she tried to get him to laugh, all he'd do was give her a half smile before walking away. It made her heart ache, even though she knew this was, in a sense, what she'd asked him for. She should have known there was no way the two of them could ever be just friends. There was too much history between them for that.

Which was too bad, because she could have used a friend right about now. For one thing, Chase was the only person in their ragged band who really remembered much of the world before the plague. The world they'd lost. She'd see something familiar-maybe a sign for an old fast food restaurant they used to eat at or an advertis.e.m.e.nt for a band they used to enjoy listening to-and she'd be dying to point it out to him, to reminisce about the world they'd both lost. But he wasn't interested. He kept his distance. And the closer they got to their destination, the lonelier Peyton felt.

"Hey, Peyton, can I ask you a question?"

Peyton glanced over. In her musings she hadn't realized that thirteen-year-old Starr had ridden up alongside her. Darla sat in the front of her saddle, playing with her doll, and the older girl sat behind.

"Sure," Peyton said.

"How do you know when you're in love?"

The question took Peyton by surprise. She looked at Starr, raising her eyebrows. "Is this a rhetorical question, or do you have someone in mind?"

"I don't know what rhetorical means," Starr said, blushing furiously. "But yeah. I think I might be in love with Torn." She stole a glance in front of them, where the boy in question was riding beside Chase.

Peyton almost laughed. Of course it was Torn. There wasn't anyone else Starr's age left in the world, as far as they knew. And he was indeed cute, what with that shock of brown hair which refused to lie flat, his bright blue eyes and lanky frame.

"Well, I'm not really an expert on love," Peyton confessed. "I was still pretty young when I had to go into the fallout shelter. And I was stuck inside with only my mom for four years."

"So you've never been in love?" Starr said, wide-eyed. "But you're so old."

Old. At nineteen. Now Peyton knew she was blushing. She tried to figure out the best response. "I was in love," she admitted at last. "Once."

"Did the person love you back?"

She paused for a moment, her eyes falling upon Chase's back. A thousand memories threatened to consume her and she had to fight to suppress them.

"I believe he did," she told Starr softly.

"But how did you know?" Starr demanded, sounding anguished. Obviously her crush had been raging for some time. Peyton was surprised the two kids hadn't acted on it. She wondered if Tank had taken Torn aside and given the boy a lecture, or if he was simply clueless as to his friend's affections.

How had she known Chris loved her, all those years ago? Part of it was what they'd shared during the turbulent times. "It wasn't what he said, necessarily," she explained slowly. "It was more... what he did. Words are just words, you know," she added. "It's everyday actions that show if someone cares." She found herself reaching into her pocket and fingering the diamond. She'd been doing that a lot lately. As if it was some kind of good luck talisman. Or maybe just her last remaining link to her old life.

Starr rode along quietly. Then she grinned. "He gave me his apple yesterday," she said, her voice full of pride. "Without me even asking!"

Peyton smiled. "That's a good sign," she said to the girl. "A very good sign."

Darla suddenly perked up. Peyton had a.s.sumed she wasn't paying any attention, but she'd clearly been wrong. "I think Chase loves you, Peyton!" she cried.

Peyton turned tomato red. "Um, I don't think so," she said.

Starr grinned, quickly latching on to the idea. "I do," she exclaimed. "And I think, from the look on your face, that you love him, too."

"Stop it! Both of you!" Peyton hissed, hoping Chase couldn't hear. "It's not like that at all."

"Chase and Peyton, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" sang the two girls. Peyton swatted at them. They erupted into giggles.

"Everything okay back there?" Chase called out, evidently hearing the ruckus. This only caused the girls to laugh harder. Peyton sighed.

"We're fine," she called up to him. "Definitely fine."

"Aw, your boyfriend's worried about you!" teased Starr.

Peyton rolled her eyes. "If you don't shut up right now, I'm going to tell Torn about you. I'll tell him you want him bad."

Starr's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of her head. "No, no, no!" she cried. "I'll be quiet. Really!"

Peyton nodded. "Thought so."

That night they set up camp at a rest area off the highway. It wasn't the most secluded, safest spot in the world, but darkness had fallen before they'd come across any place better, and they'd decided to make the best of what they found. So they pitched tents, built a great bonfire and settled in for the night as best they could.

The kids pa.s.sed out early, even the older ones, exhausted after the day's journey. It was Chase's turn to stand watch. He was tired, too, but wasn't about to admit it. Not to Super Peyton, who never seemed the least bit worn out. Must be nice to be half robot.

He stifled a yawn as he poked the fire with a stick. He'd rise to the occasion, of course; he always did. Even if she didn't appreciate his efforts.

"It's been a long day," she remarked, coming up beside him. She must have seen his yawn. "Maybe we should split the watch tonight. I'll take a shift, too."

Chase shook his head. She was always trying to get him to admit weakness. "Nah," he said. "I'm fine."

She frowned. "There's no need to be all macho," she reminded him. "If you start feeling tired, just wake me up. I really don't mind."

Of course she didn't. "I will, I will," he said. "Now go to sleep."

She finally complied, curling up in a sleeping bag under the stars, refusing a tent just in case. Chase watched her close her eyes and waited until her breathing became regular to get up and begin his patrol.