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gallons of grief. She seemed to be
pulling the gut-wrenching feelings out of me, cleansing my heart and mind just
as she was cleansing my body. It felt like I cried for an eternity.
    Eventually, sporting fresh pajamas and damp hair, I was
again settled in the living room but on an unfamiliar couch.
    “This isn’t my couch,” I said to no one in particular. I
watched Jack as he stared forlornly at the clean kitchen floor. Someone had
swept up the mountain of kibble and locked it away.
    “Yes, well, yours was…unsuitable. We swapped it with one
from an apartment down the hall. It’s not like they’ll be needing it anymore,”
Chris explained, setting a glass of orange juice and a generous plate of breakfasty goodness on the coffee table in front of me.
    I stared at the food but didn’t touch it, even though my
stomach grumbled in need. Cam usually made me breakfast. “What d’you mean? Why won’t they need it?”
    Chris halted her efforts to arrange a fuzzy blanket
around my legs and looked at me with sharp, sky-blue eyes. Her expression
melted into sympathy before she spoke. “Because they’re dead, hon. Most people
are. I thought you knew.”
    “I…,” I tried to speak, but my throat caught after the
first sound. I shook my head.
    Satisfied that I was covered and warm, Chris moved to the
other side of the coffee table to sit in a large recliner—another item from the
furniture shopping spree in my neighbor’s apartment.
    “It was that damn Virus…we all had it…weeks ago,” Chris
said, gesturing around the room even though it was empty of anyone but us.
“Several days back, everyone in the world seemed to be infected. Now pretty
much everyone’s dead. The rest are like you and me—Survivors. But as far as we
can tell, we’re in the extreme minority.”
    “I don’t understand,” I said, confusion creasing my brow.
“This is impossible.”
    “Not impossible. Just improbable…and really, really
awful.” She pointed to the plate of eggs and potatoes on the coffee table. “Eat
up, hon. You’ve got to get your strength back before we leave.”
    Obediently, I moved the plate to my lap and asked, “Who’s
‘we,’ and where are ‘we’ going?” I took a tentative bite of scrambled eggs and
wondered if it was the best thing I’d ever eaten. Suddenly terrified of being
left behind, I added, “Am I part of ‘we’? And what about Cam?”
    Chris opened her mouth to answer just as Jason stepped
out from Callie’s room and into the hallway leading to the living room. He
gestured to the bedroom, “Why don’t you get some rest in there, Johnson? It’s
been a long day.” It wasn’t a question.
    Chris hesitated, shooting an anxious glance in my direction.
    “Don’t worry about Dani,” he reassured her, “I’ll take
care of her.” A slight smile accompanied the warmth in his voice.
    Chris stood and stalked across the living room, pausing when
she reached the beautiful, imposing man. She was surprisingly menacing for such
a pretty, motherly woman.
    I busied myself with eating but still paid close
attention.
    “Don’t try any of your usual shit with her,” Chris
hissed. “She’s been through hell. I know you’re incapable of resisting a pretty
girl, especially a vulnerable one, but I swear…”
    “What? You think you can take me?” he asked frostily.
    She glared at him for a long moment before stomping to
the bedroom and slamming the door.
    Quietly, I finished the food. I attacked the glass of
orange juice next, alternating between sipping through the neon green straw and
staring at the floating flecks of pulp. Jason took Chris’s seat, and I focused
twice as hard on the juice.
    “Dani?” His voice was thick with concern.
    With the straw still between my lips, I responded,
“Hmmm?” My heart froze when I glanced up, and the straw fell from my mouth.
    Every inch of Jason exuded wary remorse like he’d done
something horrible and was afraid to tell me. Or was about