Page 8 of A Wilderness Within

I’m not tough, just immune. She had been inches from the man who died in O’Hare. He’d coughed right into her face, and yet she was fine. The employee who had worked the desk had been rushed from the airport only two hours into the lockdown. That was how the world ended.

She’d never heard where the man from Paris had caught it, or if it originated from China like the CDC said. The CDC hadn’t revealed any information, assuming they even knew. Not that it mattered now. Hydra-1 was unstoppable except to a small portion of the population. Caroline tried not to think about that most days, but now she was facing it. She was more alone than ever, despite the shadowy stranger lying beside her in bed. She curled her arms around her body, hugging herself as she tried to dream of better days. But all she could see was the bearded face of the man next to her, and she worried about her future and the future of the other survivors.

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@CDC: We have confirmed that the virus in Beijing has spread to Shanghai and New Delhi. Two WHO workers did not properly dispose of their working clothes and have carried the virus out of Beijing. The CDC and the WHO are trying to trace all movements of these two individuals in order to determine where the virus may spread. Sign up for alerts on Hydra-1 via our website.

—Centers for Disease Control Twitter Feed

November 16, 2019

Caroline couldn’t escape in the morning. Her ankle wouldn’t let her, nor would her body. After that shelf collapsed on her,everythinghurt. Each little move forced her to groan, but she couldn’t stay in bed next to that…mountain man. Any movement she made where she put weight on her ankle shot pain straight up the rest of her leg. She valiantly attempted several times to get away from the bed. Each time she crumpled, the mountain man’s strong arms lifted her up and carried her back to bed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured as he settled her back onto her side of the bed and covered her with blankets.

“Then let me go.”

“No.” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “Now go back to sleep. You need to rest your body after that fall.”

By the time morning sunlight was streaming through the windows, she had given up. She lay in bed, feeling the heat of the sun on her face, trying to make sense of what had happened. After her last attempt to escape, the man seemed to realize she was done with her efforts and had risen from bed and left her alone to sleep a little longer, but she was too nervous.

She could hear soft domestic sounds from the kitchen downstairs, the murmur of water moving through pipes in the walls, the occasional bang of pots or pans. And then she heard something else. Music.

Caroline stared at the ceiling, mystified.Music. How was that possible?

Determined to get to the source of the noise, she got out of the bed again, but this time she gave her predicament some thought. She hopped on one leg, using the wall for support. Silly, yes, but far less agonizing. She reached a short stairway that had one small landing before the stairs turned perpendicular. She scooted down the steps on her bottom with her bad leg aloft, careful not to bump her ankle. When she reached the bottom, she slowly started to limp toward the kitchen. She froze when she caught sight of her mysterious mountain man in the early sunlight.

He was just as tall as she remembered. Well over six feet and muscled. He was built like a rock, with broad shoulders that led down to a narrow waist and hips. He wore jeans and a gray sweater with the sleeves rolled up. He should not have looked sexy to her, not under these circumstances, but there was something about the way the sun hit his arms and how his muscles flexed that made her want to reach out and touch him.

On the counter he was cooking something in a pot on a small camping stove. A delicious smell rolled through the kitchen toward her. She focused on his face. The noble profile was somewhat hidden by the scruff of his beard, but she could see he was totally gorgeous. Caroline swallowed hard. Damn, did her captor have to be completely hot as hell?

Beside the stove, a smartphone sat on the counter, connected to a battery pack and a portable speaker. She’d had lost hers when she’d had to give up her last bag.

The sound of 70s rock ’n’ roll came through the phone’s speaker. After months of silence, the music sounded like heaven. She’d thought she’d never hear any of it again, the drums, the harmonic voices, the guitar riffs. Who would compose music now that the human race was drawing its last breath?

Her lips trembled as she listened to the sounds, emotions riding through her like a summer storm. Whoever this man was, he had brought music back to her world.

“Stay right there,” the man said. She jolted, unaware that he had known she was in the room.

“I”

“I’m going to carry you to the couch.” He looked at her and then waved toward a nook with two couches set perpendicular to each other with a large ottoman in between. He paused in front of her, and she swallowed hard at his massive size and how small and fragile he made her feel. She wasn’t all that short, but she’d never been aware of anyone like she was of him and his towering height right now. His eyes were just as dark as before. Dark pools of rich brown that seemed to draw in the light rather than reflect it. Her skin flushed with heat as his gaze swept slowly over her, taking her in.

Then, without a word, he scooped her up carefully and carried her over to one of the couches and laid her down on it. Then he covered her with a blanket.

“Stay. I’ve got eggs cooking and some fruit.” He returned to the kitchen, leaving her to gaze after him open mouthed. She’d just been ordered to stay like some border collie. A second later, the rest of his words caught up to her.

“Eggs andfruit?” she echoed. Her voice was raw, unused. How long had it been since she’d actually talked to another being? A long time.

He removed two white china plates from the cupboards and scooped eggs out of the pot on his burner onto one plate. Then he poured peaches onto it and brought it over to her, handing her a fork as well.

“I have two chickens down in the basement. They have been laying decent eggs. It’s cold enough that I can leave them outside in a basket to keep them cool. The peaches… Well, the previous owners were quite the canners. The basement has a stockroom of pickled vegetables and canned fruits. Part of the reason I chose this place.”

The man explained this all with barely a hint of emotion before he returned to the kitchen, where he began brewing coffee.

Caroline took a bite of the eggs, and after that first glorious swallow she burst into tears. She couldn’t help herself; the sudden burst of taste had made her realize that the food was real. This wasn’t some weird dream where a handsome man rescued her and cooked her delicious food. This was reality. He was by her side in an instant, kneeling down by the couch as he set her plate on the ottoman.

“What’s the matter?” Worry was evident in his gruff tone.

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