Tomorrow Land Part 3

He shrugged, looking uneasy. Half of her wondered if he came back for her, but then rebuked herself for thinking it. He'd probably given up on her years ago. For all she knew he had a new girlfriend, back at the Walmart.

"Way too many people, not nearly enough food," he said in way of explanation. "We figured we could come down here, get some supplies, maybe head back up. Problem was, when we got here, we ran into the Others. They'd pretty much taken over the town by that point. They attacked immediately and killed most of our little group. We weren't prepared back then. We had no idea."

Peyton thought back to the monster she'd fought, and she shuddered. She didn't want to imagine fighting off a group, didn't want to picture what he'd gone through. "But you escaped," she concluded.

Chase nodded. "Yeah. Most of the credit goes to Tank-you remember my brother Trey? He's a born leader, that guy. After we fought our way out... well, he dredged up all the survivors and herded us into the local Walmart. He even collected others who'd been hiding out around town."

"And now you live in a Walmart?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"Hey, don't knock it," Chase declared. "'Wally World has everything you need to survive an apocalypse: canned food, camping supplies, first aid, bedding, even toys for the kiddos. You can live in a Walmart for a long time. We even grow our own vegetables in the Garden and Patio section."

"You grow your own food?" She'd been wondering how they were eating. How many years of canned food could a Walmart hold? She supposed it depended on the number of survivors.

"Sure. In addition to the stuff in our building, we have some corn growing out in Washington Park. We also hunt. Neighborhood's overrun by animals these days. Deer, rabbits-we even keep a cow around for milk."

"Nice," she said. And she meant it. She hadn't had a gla.s.s of milk in years. "So... what about the others?"

"Oh, yeah, well, we have to compete with them for the deer and stuff. But they really aren't into the whole vegetarian thing, so they don't mess with our corn. And they're lousy at opening cans."

"No, no," Peyton corrected. "Not the Others. Not the monsters. I mean the other survivors."

Chase gave her a strange look. "There aren't any," he said, as if surprised by her question. "As far as we know, we're the last. Everyone else either died, was eaten or... well, you know-became one of them." He looked ill for a moment, then shrugged it off. "That's why I was so surprised to see you today. I haven't seen anyone new for probably a year."

Peyton swallowed hard. Everyone was gone. The whole world. It was hard to wrap her head around it. Maybe her mother had had the right idea. After all, what was her dad fighting to save, if everyone was already dead?

"So what's with the new name?" she asked, wanting to get her mind off her dismal thoughts. "You're going by Chase now?" She had to admit, it sounded kind of hot. Dangerous.

He gave a little snort. "Oh, that," he said. "My friend Stephen was bored one day and came up with tribal names for all of us as a joke. And they kind of stuck, I guess. We call Trey Tank-'cause, well, he's built like one, what with all the bench-pressing he does. And Stephen now goes by Rocky 'cause stuff around him never goes smoothly. Spud's our resident gardener..."

"And they call you Chase because...?"

"Cause there ain't no zombie out there that can catch me," he boasted, patting himself on the chest. She waited for him to laugh, to tell her it was a joke. But he seemed totally serious. He certainly was a lot c.o.c.kier then he used to be... Guess surviving the apocalypse could do that to a guy.

Another silence fell over them and Chase looked around the perimeter. "I can't believe we've been standing here talking this whole time," he said. "We're like sitting ducks-zombie bait. Come on, I'll take you home sweet home and you can meet the gang. Tank'll be thrilled to see you."

She glanced at her wrist. It was a crazy habit, she knew, since time had lost its meaning long ago and she hadn't worn a watch in years. "It sounds nice, but I'm actually in a hurry," she replied. But even as she said the words, she felt herself hedging. She'd just found Chase again-against nearly impossible odds. And no matter how cold he was acting, it was still him. The boy she'd dreamed about every night since those t.i.tanium doors locked behind her. And now she was just going to up and leave him all over again?

Still, she tried to remind herself, she had a long way to go and she didn't know how much time she had left. She couldn't afford to allow herself to be distracted by the past, even if it was living and breathing and standing in front of her-causing her heart to ache. The fate of the new world was in her hands-and she couldn't let her own personal regrets get in the way of her mission.

She looked up, catching a flicker of emotion in Chase's eyes, darting out then retreating behind his otherwise expressionless mask. Had he just a.s.sumed he could talk her into sticking around? Did he want her to stick around? The idea made her heart involuntarily flutter.

"Well, no offense, but you're not going anywhere tonight. It's almost dark," Chase reminded her. "Trust me, you don't want to be out alone in the dark these days. And you've got to be hungry, right? We've got plenty of food. And sanitizers for those... fingers." He looked down at her razors and she wondered why he didn't ask her about them. "We can outfit you with supplies for your trip, too. And give you a lay of the land-it may be a bit different than you remember."

He was right, she realized, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief wash over her. Though time was of the essence, of course, so were the basic necessities for a road trip. It would be smart to go with him. The right thing to do. And deep down she was glad she could justify it.

"Okay," she relented. "But I need to leave first thing in the morning." She wanted to be clear.

He held up his hands. "No problem. Trust me, it's not as if we're dying for another mouth to feed."

She blushed, feeling like an idiot. What had she expected? For him to beg her to stay? Once upon a time he might have. But that world was gone forever. "Great," she managed to say, forcing the raw emotion from her voice. "As long as we're clear."

"Crystal," Chase replied curtly, and she again forced back a shiver at the ice in his tone. "Now wait here, okay? I've got to grab some... supplies. Then we'll head over."

"Need some help?" she asked.

"Nope. I can take care of myself."

Somehow she knew he was going to say that.

Peyton Anderson. Peyton flecking Anderson. Chase couldn't believe it. Of all the apocalypses in all the world-she had walked into his. How many nights had he lain awake on his old, creaky cot in that overcrowded, filthy, stinking refugee camp up in the mountains, thinking of her? Wondering if she was safe. If she was alive. Wondering why she'd left him without a word of explanation.

And now here she was. Alive and well, and mostly unfazed, too, by the looks of her. While he and his brother had suffered, while they'd watched most of their friends and family die, she'd prospered, living it up in some cushy hideaway set up by her father, who'd turned out not to be so crazy after all.

He wanted to be furious at her, to abandon her to the darkness and the zombies, to leave her to fend entirely for herself. But at the same time, he was just so happy to see her alive. To know she'd survived. It was all he could do not to grab her and pull her into his arms and kiss the life out of her, to finish what the apocalypse had so rudely interrupted.

But he couldn't do that. She'd betrayed him. She'd left him high and dry without a second thought. He remembered the day like it was yesterday, waiting in the rain until dark, waiting until Trey finally returned and dragged him away. Hoping, praying, begging that she would show up at the eleventh hour, a smile on her face and a promise on her lips to never leave him again. The memory was like a knife to his gut.

And even now, she wasn't back. Not really. She wasn't making apologies or promises to make it up to him. In fact, she was eager to abandon him all over again. To make some kind of trip to Florida, of all places. Though why anyone would be in a hurry to go there, especially in high summer, Chase had no idea.

And so, while it was nice that she had survived, he knew in his heart there could never be a happily ever after for the two of them. He'd let her stay the night at the Walmart and get her what she needed-he at least owed her that for old time's sake-then tomorrow he'd see her on her way and try to forget he'd ever run into her. It was better that way-would be better that way even if they were the last two people on earth.

Anyway, he had more pressing things on his mind at the moment.

He stole down the street and slipped into the vacant house he'd originally been casing. Fading light filtered through its half caved-in ceiling, allowing him the luxury of not wasting the precious battery power remaining in his flashlight. He stepped over a decomposing body sprawled out on the floor-he hated when they weren't tucked away in their beds-and made his way up the creaky stairs to the master bathroom.

His mind flashed back to Peyton. Man, the way she had taken on that Other was un-flecking-believable. Sure, he'd seen people turn and fight before. But most of those people were dead. Peyton had made it look effortless. She'd sliced through the creature with razors that appeared to be fused to her fingertips: some kind of cybernetic enhancements, he guessed. Her dad had been into that stuff. It looked like he'd messed with her eyes, too. With some kind of mirrored implants. Weird. Hot, too, but definitely weird. He hadn't dared bring it up.

He hadn't been prepared for his body's betrayal as his eyes had roved her scantily clad body. The reaction wasn't surprising, he supposed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen another teenage girl, never mind an attractive one-never mind an attractive one who had been his first-ever love. He involuntarily thought back to her curvy hips, long shapely legs, her baby-powder scent. G.o.d, how did she smell like baby powder four years after the apocalypse? She was too much. It was a good thing she wasn't sticking around.

He shook his head, desperate to get s.e.x off the brain. He had to grab the stash quick and get out of there. Leaving Peyton alone had been a stupid, selfish idea. What if that injured Other came back, this time with buddies? Not that they were usually very organized, but you never knew. And while she'd done a great job taking on one, how would she fare against four or five? It'd be better to get back to safety, especially with darkness coming on.

He considered turning back, returning tomorrow alone, but the raw need churning his stomach wouldn't let him. Nights were long in the Walmart. Nights without medication were even longer.

Just grab the goods and get the h.e.l.l out.

He reached the upstairs bathroom, pawing away the cobwebs across the medicine cabinet. A disturbed layer of dust filled his lungs and he coughed. Yanking open the cabinet, he checked the contents.

Score. Total score. He grinned. Well, this made things a little better.

A bottle of Vicodon. Another of Oxycodin. Yes! He'd had a feeling that old Mrs. Gardner with all her aches and pains would have kept a good stash in her bathroom. And he'd been right! Of course, he had no idea if the stuff was still any good. At least not half as good as the government surplus stuff he'd scored from that military base a few months ago, properly stored and sealed for an extended shelf life. But that base was a day's journey away and he needed some short-term relief, at least until he could think up an excuse he could give Tank for making another journey.

He stuffed the bottles in his pocket and hurried back to Peyton. Squinting as he stepped into the fading sunlight, he let out a sigh of relief. She was waiting for him, untouched, unharmed. Another wave of protectiveness washed over him. It was strange. She looked so vulnerable standing there, studying a small clump of daisies. But, he reminded himself, she wasn't the same girl from long ago.

Then again, he wasn't the same boy, either.

Chapter Seven.

"Don't look now, but he's behind you again," Avery whispered to Peyton the next day at school. "Your stalker." They were pushing their way through the crowded halls.

Peyton glanced over her shoulder and saw Chris steadily approaching, fighting like a determined salmon against the stream of students going the other way. She waved, then turned back to Avery. "He's okay, actually," she said. "I don't think he's going to do that anymore."

Her friend rolled her genetically altered purple eyes. "Whatever you say, girl. He looks shiftier to me."

"How'd the vaccine go?" Peyton asked, changing the subject before Chris caught up. She didn't want to hurt his feelings. "Did you get it?"

"h.e.l.ls yeah, I did. LTF, here I come. Second I got the shot, I logged in and signed up. It takes a few weeks for everything to process. You know the government. But I can't wait! Me and Todd are planning a trip up to the mountains when it's all official. We're going to rent some cabin in the woods that doesn't even have sim decks and never get out of bed."

"Sounds stellar," Peyton said absently, wondering what Drew thought of his twin brother's upcoming booty call. The pressure put on her was now going to increase tenfold, she just knew it.

"You know, you should really talk to your dad again about getting your shot," Avery added, as if reading her friend's mind. "I mean, Drew's not going to wait around forever. Almost everyone in the senior cla.s.s has their license."

Peyton fought back her annoyance. "Yeah, well, if he's not willing to wait then he's not worth having." But even as she said the words, Peyton knew they were kind of ridiculous. Drew was only asking for something every other kid was doing. And he could have any girl in school. What made her think she was so special that he should wait on her?

Sure enough, Avery snorted, verbalizing her fears. "You keep telling yourself that, sweetie. But let's face it. It's just as easy to fall for a girl with an LTF as a girl without one. And a lot more fun."

Thankfully at that moment, Chris caught up, saving her from some lame reply. "Hey, Peyton," he said, sounding a little out of breath from his trek. "How are you this morning?"

"Here you go!" Avery teased in a whisper. "I bet Jacob would wait decades for you. Maybe even millennia."

"Who's Jacob?" Chris asked, looking baffled.

Peyton punched her friend in the shoulder. "Don't you have a cla.s.s to go to or something-like our English cla.s.s? Mrs. Adams's going to have your head if you're late again."

"Yup," Avery replied, laughing. "Later, 'gator. See you on the inside." She gave a wave and hurried off down the hall.

Peyton turned to Chris, who appeared to be studying something in his deck. "What's up?"

"Have you seen Mrs. McCormick yet?" he asked, looking up. "I went by her house yesterday and she wasn't home. I figured that maybe she'd be back by now."

Peyton shook her head. "I actually went by there myself this morning," she admitted. "No answer."

"Well, I called Mt. Holyoke. All of the hospitals in the area, actually. None of them have even heard of her," Chris said. He shuffled from foot to foot. "I'm worried. I mean, what do you think happened to her? You said those men were from the government, but... I don't know."

Peyton swallowed back the fears she herself had been fighting. She'd decided not to tell her father about the incident the other day as she didn't want to raise his hackles. She knew how he could be about the feds. But now she wondered if she'd made a mistake.

"I don't mean to sound harsh, but... maybe she just died," she suggested hesitantly. After all, not everything was a conspiracy.

"Yeah." Chris raked a hand through his longish hair. "I thought that too at first, but I don't think it's that simple. When I got home, I did some more digging, going on some unauthorized web forums and..."

Peyton's pulse kicked up a notch. "And?"

"She's not the only one who's been taken away in a brown van with that seal. I found almost a dozen similar reports from around the country. And then there are even a few international cases, too. It doesn't make much sense, but the descriptions all seem so similar, and..."

Peyton's mouth went dry. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. I think something's going on."

Peyton fought with herself for a moment. At last she said, "I should ask my dad. He's up on all of this kind of thing. You know, conspiracy theories, government stuff. If anyone would know, it'd be him. I should have mentioned it the other day but... I'll ask him after school."

"Good idea. I'll come with you."

Peyton raised her eyebrow at the self-invitation, feeling a moment of suspicion. Then she shook it off. What was she thinking? That he'd made all this up in some elaborate scheme to get invited over to her house? That was just ridiculous. He was concerned about Mrs. McCormick. That was all.

"Fine," she relented, resigning herself to the plan. Then a new fear crossed her mind. "Um," she said. "Though, about my dad. I warn you, he's a little... intense."

Chris laughed. "That's okay. So am I."

The bell rang and Chris darted off. Peyton hurried down the hall, too, only to find the door to her cla.s.s swinging shut in her face. Great. She'd made a joke to Avery but their teacher, Mrs. Adams, didn't tolerate any latecomers, and this was her own third tardy in three months. She considered pushing the door open and braving the teacher's wrath, but then thought better of it. Instead she would head to the school nurse's office, feign sick, and get a pa.s.s.

On the way, she decided to stop by the cafeteria to grab a snack. She could only swing by without penalty because, unlike the old days, everything was automated. Lunch ladies had been phased out. Insert ID, press b.u.t.ton, remove food. Fast and easy. She wondered if the old food, prepared by real people, tasted any better.

As she entered the caf, her eyes fell upon two figures at the far side of the vending area. The pair were curled up into an intense-looking embrace. Peyton quickly looked away, not wanting to spy. Then, curious, she took another peek at the two lovebirds, wondering who would dare an illegal public display of affection on school grounds.

Her stomach dropped like it was on a rollercoaster sim, and her world spun off its axis. Could it really be? A second glance confirmed her worst fears. Drew. Her boyfriend. Tangled up in the arms of the student cla.s.s president, Brenda Booker. Brenda had gotten her LTF back when she was twelve years old and was legendary in the district for her trashy exploits.

A mixture of disgust and self-righteous rage filled Peyton. Avery had been right; Drew had decided she wasn't worth waiting for. All that stuff he'd said about love and loyalty-it was all bull. He was just like every other h.o.r.n.y guy in her high school, looking for one thing and one thing alone.

She tried to take a step back, to flee the scene, but her legs felt like they were stuck in mud to the knees. She tripped over a chair and crashed to the ground.

Swift, Peyton. Real swift.

They hadn't noticed her before, but they did now. Drew and Brenda looked over, startled. Peyton scrambled to her feet, her face burning. She would never say it to her dad, but now would be a great time for the end of the world to commence.

"I... I thought you had English cla.s.s this period," Drew stammered.

Anger won over her embarra.s.sment. "Is that all you can say?" she demanded. "I catch you making out with the school slag in the middle of the cafeteria, and all you can say is that I should be in cla.s.s? Since when did you become hall monitor?"

Drew didn't even have the good grace to look sheepish. He whispered something to Brenda, who nodded, giggled, gave Peyton a dirty look, and took off. Peyton glared at her retreating back, wishing she could shoot daggers out of her eyes. Then she turned to her cheating boyfriend.

"How could you?" she cried, feeling tears well up in her eyes. "I thought... I thought you loved me." G.o.d, it sounded so lame and stupid when she said it out loud.

"I do love you," Drew said, walking over to her. He took her hand in his. She yanked it away. "I love you more than anything."

"I see," Peyton said through clenched teeth. "You have a weird way of showing it." She squeezed her hands into fists and forced herself to stay calm. "You love me, but, let me guess-you want to be with someone who has their CC."

"We've talked about this," Drew said in an exasperated tone. "A million times, in fact. You're one of the last hold-outs in your entire cla.s.s. I'm even willing to do it illegally for you, Peyton. That's how much I love you. But if you won't even agree to that, well, what are we supposed to do?"

So there it was. Avery was right. It all came down to s.e.x. "I'm not going to break the law," she protested weakly.