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‘So what happened?’ he asks. ‘A dog attack you?’ ‘No.’ I shake my head and let out a groan. ‘It was a damn bear trap.’ Jamison shoots a look up at me as he continues cleaning. ‘You’re kidding.’ ‘I’m not.’ His smirk returns. ‘It’s the apocalypse and you decide to make enemies with Wile E. Coyote.’
His eyes are on the stitch job he did last night. My leg is still swollen. He places a gentle hand on my knee and warmth explodes across my body. My cheeks burn and I swallow hard. He’s the first person who’s touched me in … I have no idea how long. The bug ruined hugging and all touching in general. This feels so … not weird but … wrong. And also right. ‘Are you OK?’ he asks. Absolutely not. ‘Yeah.’
‘No, I want to know more about her, actually.’ ‘My mom?’ He sounds surprised. ‘She sounds like she was a smart lady. Plus, maybe you can share some of her survival tips with me. I’m not doing too well myself.’ I want to know more about the woman who made this kind, sweet boy and hi, wow, these pills work fast.
‘Vinyl, very Brooklyn hipster of you. Wait, what’s the Brooklyn of Philly?’ His shoulders go up and he spins, his nostrils flaring. ‘How dare you!’ I laugh because even Jamie’s attempts at being offended come off as playful.
I love how optimistic he is. It works for him, but maybe that’s because he’s never had to deal with liberal parents who still manage to shock you when you come out and they say it’s a phase. Or how about that time in sixth grade when it seemed like you were making fun friends who invited you to meet them at the movie theatre on Friday night and then never showed up. Or, no! Silly me, they did show up. They just went to the earlier showing of the movie so they could come out and find you waiting there after an hour. And then try to gaslight you into thinking you heard the time wrong. Yeah,
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She took to calling it ‘the monster’ because that’s how big it was. ‘Plus I feel it adds a touch of whimsy to the apocalypse. It’s probably a bear from the state park or mountain lion from out in the Alleghenies. Coulda swore I saw a boar one day back in the pre-superflu times.’
‘Do you believe in fate, kid? A higher purpose and God and all that?’ I let out a low grunt. ‘I used to. Not any more.’ She nods. ‘Same with me. It’s hard to believe there’s a greater purpose for everyone when ninety per cent of them have been wiped out.
Andrew stops talking, but I feel like I already know where this story is going. It’s like watching a train chugging along to a broken part of track. I know it’s going to derail, that the bad part’s coming, but I can’t do anything about it. It’s already happened to him. He’s already lived through this. I could ask him to stop, tell him he doesn’t have to say any more, but he’s kept this story to himself – held it in – for so long. He needs to let it out.
And then, when I got better, I thought I could come clean, but … I … realised even then that I still needed you.’ I knew he was hiding something, and I was afraid whatever it was would change everything. But it hasn’t. I know who Andrew is and I know he’s a good person. And I know that I need him, too. We sit in silence for a moment, then I stand up. ‘All right, then.’ I hold out my hand to him. ‘Let’s go.’
revenge. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if that had been the case, but I’d make sure no one would ever hurt him. What does that mean? At the time, walking up to this house, I was so sure, but in the darkness, next to Andrew, the idea is absurd. I don’t know why this person is so damn important. Then it hits me. It’s because it feels like love.
When he says good night to me it feels like I should kiss him. The idea of holding him doesn’t make me uncomfortable. Actually, it’s the complete opposite. I want to pull him close to me and hold him while he sleeps. It makes sense in my heart, though it doesn’t make sense in my mind. Even the thought of more intimate things doesn’t deter me. But I’m scared. Disappointing Andrew is what scares me. There’s a massive difference between thinking about things and doing them. What happens if I’m wrong and it’s just friendship and loneliness and horniness all mixed up? And then we try something and
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Other survivors on their own might be a good thing. I can’t help but hope for that because the other option is just me. And I’m scared that after this, I might not be enough for Andrew to be happy.
From outside, Reagan National is one of the most nondescript airports I’ve ever seen. It’s bigger than Bradley International in Connecticut, but isn’t this named after the dude everyone had such a boner for in the eighties? Shouldn’t the guy who killed thousands of gay people through inaction have gotten something a little more ostentatious from his right-wing fluffers? Frankly I’m disappointed.
in. I stare at him as seriously as I can while looking at his goofy grin. ‘You have to back up. I don’t think you have enough road to get to eighty-eight.’ For just a second he looks concerned, and I’m so ready to punch him. Then his smirk returns. He shifts to drive and says, ‘Roads? Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.’ ‘YES!’ I shout and roll the window down. ‘America! He knows Back to the Future!’
I don’t know what would have happened if I’d made it all the way down to Alexandria alone. Jamie coming after me was the best thing that could have happened. I like that he makes the world feel not so awful. And that he might be making me a better person. Oh shit. I really just fell in love with a straight boy, didn’t I? I mean, it’s clearly been there for a while and I only just noticed, but there it is. ‘What?’ he asks after I’ve been smiling at him for way too long. I shake my head. ‘Nothing.’ ‘Stop making fun of me, just drive.’ I’m not making fun of you, Jamie. I would never.
Even Andrew has gone quiet. It gives me a chance to think about everything. I don’t know what these feelings are. Is it possible to be bisexual and not realise it? I ask myself that question all the time, but it’s a stupid question, because the answer is, Yes, dummy, no shit. Then I think back – way back – and try to figure out if I knew at any other moments that this might be who I am. But I can’t remember a time I felt like this before him.
What happens if no one is there? If everyone is dead and all that’s left in the world is Fort Caroline, a gay guy, a broken straight boy, a cartography genius with PTSD and a seventy-year-old woman with a shotgun fighting zoo animals? Plus Howard’s crew.
Cara looks up from the road atlas at me. ‘Do you want to learn about your new friend or do you want to keep talking?’ Jamie snorts. ‘I wouldn’t give him the option.’ I stick my tongue out at him and motion for Cara to continue.
Andrew makes several Blake Bortles references – references I actually get. ‘How do you know who Blake Bortles is? He didn’t even play for the Jaguars any more when the superflu hit.’ ‘The Good Place, dude.’ And that one I don’t know, but out of the corner of my eye I see Cara smirk.
‘To be fair, it was King Kong vs. Godzilla, the old one. I just thought the cover looked cool. It was only five bucks in the bargain bin. But yeah, almost an hour. And she sat there in silence the whole time until I finally started to calm down. Then you know what she did?’ Cara shakes her head and reaches out for the water. I try not to look at her as she drinks. ‘She queues up a song on her phone and hits play. And it’s the Rolling Stones. “You Can’t Always Get What You Want.” I cried for another seven minutes while she sang at the top of her lungs.’
