The Last Woman (All That Remains #1)
Read The Last Woman (All That Remains #1) Online
Authors: S. M. Shade
The
Last Woman
All That
Remains: Book One
by
S.
M. Shade
The
Last Woman © 2014 S.M. Shade
All Rights Reserved. This book
may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed form without
permission from the author. All characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any similarities to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not
intended by the author.
I’m hallucinating. I must be.
The stress has finally shoved me over the edge. I’m not seeing this. He can’t
be real. I close my eyes and count to three. It doesn’t help.
A man really is standing in
front of me. His shock and incredulity mirror my own. Mine, however, is
multiplied by the fact that I recognize him. He’s famous. Well, he was before
everything went to hell.
I take a deep breath and find
my voice. “Uh...um...hi.”
He blinks and continues to
stare at me. I understand the disbelief he feels, but it’s disconcerting.
“Mom?” My son steps up behind
me, his hand clamping onto my arm hard enough to leave bruises. “Who is this?”
he whispers. Before I can answer, the man begins to yell.
“Jayla! Where are you?” he
shouts, backing away from us.
A young girl rounds the corner
and grabs his hand. Her eyes widen as she sees us all standing there, frozen. “Airen?”
she whispers.
“It’s okay.” He squeezes her
hand, still staring at me.
Despite the strange and
alarming situation, I’m stunned by his beauty.
“I’m sorry. You just surprised
me. You’re the first people we’ve seen in a long time,” he explains.
“Me too…I mean…same here,” I
stumble. Great, the first person I’ve seen in three months, and I’m doing my
Rain Man impression. I take another deep breath and try again. “My name is Abby,
and this is my son, Carson.”
“I’m Airen, and this is Jayla.
Is anyone else here?” His eyes dart from side to side.
“No, it’s been just the two of
us since, well...”
“The plague,” Jayla says.
“We’re just looking for some
supplies,” Airen explains.
“Well, you came to a good
place. Most of the town was evacuated early, so the stores are still well
stocked.” If you can stand the smell, that is. The grocery side of the store is
the worst, but the smell of rotten meat and vegetables still permeates the
entire place. “Where are you from?”
“I’m from New Orleans, and
Jayla is from Atlanta. We’ve been traveling for a few months, looking for a
good place to stay for the winter. Where are you from?”
“Originally we’re from
Indianapolis, but we moved here about five years ago. This is a good place to
live. We’re close to the lakes, and the winters aren’t too harsh. It rarely
snows.”
“Have you seen any other
people?” Jayla asks.
“No, have you?” Carson
questions.
Jayla shakes her head.
“Well, we have a cooler full
of sandwiches and drinks in the truck.” I hesitate, suddenly shy about my next
question. “If you haven’t eaten, would you like to join us for lunch? There’s
a picnic table next to the side entrance.” I glance up at them uncertainly.
“I’m sure you have as many questions as we do.”
He smiles, and though my
eyesight is hindered by the gloom of the blacked out department store, the
sight still takes my breath away.
“Sounds good. We’ll meet you
outside.”
While Carson and I unload the
truck and set the table, my mind is spinning. People! Actual real live walking,
talking people!
“Mom, wasn’t that guy on
television? I could swear that’s him. Wasn’t he on one of your crime shows?”
Carson asks.
Frankly, I’m surprised Carson
recognized him. Airen starred in the show Undercovers—not exactly a crime show—where
he played the part of a male prostitute.
“I don’t know, honey. If it is
him, he may not want to talk about it, so please don’t question him. Let him
volunteer the information.”
“Sure. Do you think they will
stay in town? I hope they do. They seem nice.”
I sigh. He’s as desperate for
company as I am. Carson has been through so much, and I’m extremely proud of
how he’s coping, but he needs a friend. What twelve year old boy wants to be
stuck with his mother twenty-four seven?
“We’ll just have to see how it
goes. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“I thought we might be the
last two people in the world.”
“Never think it.” I hug him.
“We survived, and now we know two others have also. There will be more people.
We just have to find each other.”
Airen and Jayla arrive with
carts loaded down with clothing, water, and food. As we sit down to eat, the
questions fly back and forth. We’re so thrilled to talk to someone we keep
interrupting each other.
I’m so happy for Carson. He
really needed a child his own age for company. Jayla is twelve years old, thin
and petite with dark skin and hair. Her deep brown eyes shine with intelligence.
Carson is smitten instantly.
While I’m half-listening to
the kids’ conversation, I’m trying not to outright ogle Airen Holder. It was
fortunate we first met in the dark. If I had seen him properly, I’d still be
trying to talk. He is beyond gorgeous. Television didn’t do him justice. His
black as night hair is thick and wild, matching onyx eyes that seem to shine
from within. He’s quiet, brooding even, but when he smiles it’s enough to stop
my heart. He has a perfect jaw line, high cheekbones, and a flawless
complexion. The shorts and tank top he’s wearing show off a Greek God’s
physique.
“So.” Airen turns those
mesmerizing eyes to meet mine. “What did you do, you know, before?” he asks.
“I was a librarian.”
“You must like to read.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, showing what
months of limited human interaction has done to my stellar social skills. I
know I should return the question, but I really don’t want to play dumb. I know
how he made a living before.
Before
. Such a small word that now contains lifetimes.
Everything we did, everything we were, summed up in two syllables.
“You were an actor, weren’t
you?” I ask.
“Guilty,” he replies with a
smirk. “I didn’t think you recognized me.”
“I may have watched a few
episodes of Undercovers.”
“Or DVR’ed the whole season.”
Carson giggles, and Jayla smiles at him with her hand over her mouth.
“Guilty.” I shrug. I know I’m
blushing as I silently plan Carson’s violent death. “Don’t worry. I won’t
pester you for an autograph. I’m not the star struck type.”
Technically, this is true. I’m
not impressed by his fame. It’s those eyes and smile that have me so captivated.
I’m trying not to say something stupid and make a fool of myself. I don’t want
him to know how much his presence affects me.
“That’s a shame. I miss
signing autographs. I used to model as well. Does that change your mind? ” An arrogant
little grin flashes across his face.
I have to laugh. I’m having
lunch with a famous model and actor. It’s so surreal. “Would you like us to
show you around town?”
“That would be great.”
Abraham
God’s will has saved me. I’ve
been touched. He has truly blessed me with forgiveness. Two years in this
filthy, unholy place. Two years surrounded by the scum of society. The pastor
was right. He said if I gave myself to Jesus, I’d be saved.
They all died. When I hid in
the kitchen pantry, they never even looked for me. Oh, I could hear the cries
for help. The scum cried out for water, for a doctor, even for their mamas. As
if I’d come. If God had wanted them to survive, he would have provided for them
as he did for me.
First, I found two bottles of
water that had rolled under the pantry shelf. Next, there were the crackers
from the dead receptionist’s purse. Finally, a tear in the fence of the prison
yard allowed me to escape. He granted me freedom and his forgiveness so I can
spread his word to the poor souls he left behind.
They will hear.
“Carson, bring in the eggs,
please. After breakfast you need to fill the water tank.”
“Okay. What are we doing
today, Mom?”
“I’m going to do a few loads
of laundry.”
If you think washing clothes
without a washer or hot water is an easy task, I urge you to try it. No matter
how creative I’ve tried to be, the old fashioned washboard-slash-clothesline
method seems to win. “I think Airen wants to take the two of you fishing.”
Jayla makes a face. “I’ll stay
and help you do the wash. I’d rather wash dirty underwear than sit in a boat
all day with those two. They think they’re so funny.”
“I heard that.” Airen grabs
Jayla around the neck and plants a kiss on her head. “You know you look forward
to my jokes.”
“Even though mine are so much
better,” Carson brags.
Jayla shakes her head in
exasperation. “You’re both equally terrible.”
Listening to them go back and
forth makes me smile. We have become comfortable with one another. I don’t know
if the extended period of solitude or the mental trauma we’ve all suffered
caused us to bond so quickly.
Fortunately, Carson and I had chosen
a house with extra bedrooms. I’d picked it for its two fireplaces and its
proximity to Kentucky Lake.
We have acres of woods on one
side of us with paths leading down to the lake. The rest of the house is
surrounded by open fields Airen and Carson have dubbed “the yard”. Since they’re
the ones who cut all the grass with riding mowers, I suppose they can call it
whatever they like. The view is beautiful in every direction. I love to watch
the sun rise over the lake, the water reflecting the soft colors of the sky.
Carson and I were thrilled
when Airen and Jayla accepted our invitation to live with us. We had all been
on our own for so long. The conversation I had with Airen in private was
uncomfortable and embarrassing, but I knew it was necessary. He’s so gorgeous,
and I didn’t want him to think I had ulterior motives. However, recalling it
still makes me cringe.
“Look, Airen, I want you and
Jayla to stay. I think things will be better and easier on all of us if we
stick together. I just want to assure you, I’d never take advantage of the
situation,” I explained.
He gives me a confused grin.
“Take advantage? How?”
The bastard. He knows what I’m
getting at, but he’s going to make me say it. “I’m not hitting on you or trying
to be with you or um...anything.” My face becomes redder by the second. “I
don’t want you to worry. I want you to know I wouldn’t...do that,” I babble.
His smile broadens, spreading
across his face. Why does he have to be so hot?
“Do I need to swear to the
same?” he asks in an innocent tone.
I suddenly have the urge to
kick him. “I think we can both agree that’s not necessary,” I answer dryly,
rolling my eyes. I head back indoors, but not before I see the look on his
face. It’s a mixture of surprise and another emotion I can’t seem to place.
Pity, perhaps.
He could’ve saved the acting
skills for someone more gullible. I’m not exactly attractive. Oh hell, why
sugar coat it? I’m ugly. I’ve been ugly since I was a child and long ago
accepted it as a fact of my life. However, I’ve learned some things are better
left unsaid. In the past, when I’d told people I was aware of my unfortunate appearance,
they tended to think I was fishing for compliments or trying to get them to
disagree. We have all known that annoying pretty girl who will announce she’s
ugly so others will argue it and call her beautiful. That’s the absolute last
thing I wanted. I just wanted to address the big ugly elephant in the room and
get it out of the way.
All that aside, they stayed.
Surprisingly, life has become routine if not exactly normal. After months of
Carson and me living on our own even the childish bickering is music to my
ears.
“Do I
have
to go
fishing?” Jayla asks.
“I didn’t intend to hogtie you
and drag you through the woods. It’s so beautiful today; I was hoping we’d all
spend a little time on the lake. What do you say, Abby? I’ll even bait your
hook for you,” Airen offers, flashing his million dollar smile.
Three pairs of eyes stare at
me awaiting an answer.
“I’ll go if Abby goes,” Jayla
says.
“Fine,” I agree, “but I’m not
cleaning the fish this time.”
* * *
*
Airen pulls a lightweight,
flat bottomed boat down to the edge of the lake.
“Is this the one you’ve been
using?” asks Jayla.
“Mmm hmm.” Airen nods
absently.
“Why don’t you take one with a
motor so you don’t have to row?”
“With these guns?” He flexes
his biceps, drawing a snort from Jayla. “Who needs a motor?”
Airen tosses us each a life
jacket and makes sure the straps are tight. We manage to get in the boat and
launch it without tipping it over. The first few minutes are hectic and noisy
as we get the hooks baited and cast into the water. I’m always paranoid someone
will get a hook through their eye. I’m sure we have scared away every fish in
the vicinity. We finally get settled and quiet down. The kids each have their
iPod’s so it’s pretty peaceful.
I’m not watching my bobber as
I should. I’m in awe of the beauty surrounding me. The leaves have changed, and
the distant shore is a mass of color. Bright red-gold and orange fades to more
muted shades of yellow with a scattering of brown and dark green patches. The
grass along the shore is a brighter green in startling contrast to the dark
brown of the soil and sand sloping gently to meet the water where clumps of
cattails sway rhythmically.
I close my eyes and let my
other senses take over. The breeze caresses me, tickling the little hairs on
the back of my neck, and the sun feels warm on my face and shoulders. The
combination is very pleasant. The lake and the forest are alive with sound.
Waves lap gently against the boat. Dragonflies hum a few feet above us, backed
by the rhythm of a woodpecker, hammering away. It’s lovely, harmonious, and
somehow melancholy.
Breathing deep, I try to
absorb the beauty and tranquility in which I’m immersed. I feel something
inside me loosen, and my body relaxes. When I open my eyes, Airen is gazing at
me with obvious pleasure.
“Better?” he asks in a low
voice.
“I see why you like to spend
time out here.”
He nods pensively. “Sometimes
you just need to let it go.”
“Let what go?”
“Everything,” he says simply.
“Abby, if you ever need to talk....” His voice trails off.
I force a smile. “Thanks.
Really. I’m just not the talk about my feelings type.”
He grins at me with a small
shake of his head. “I’ve noticed.”
“Back at you.”
“Touché, but remember the
offer stands.”
“I’ll remember. I do have one
serious question to ask you.”
“Boxer briefs,” he replies,
flashing a charming grin that releases butterflies in my stomach.
“Ha! I do your laundry, doofus.
There’s no mystery there. I’ve been wondering, why don’t you have a southern
accent if you grew up in Louisiana?”
“I took acting classes at
Carnegie Mellon University’s School of Drama in New York, and they taught me to
break my accent.” His lips curve with a roguish smile. “It was probably for the
best, I mean, it’s an unfair advantage to be this good looking and also have a
sexy accent.”
“You’re possibly the most
arrogant person I’ve ever met,” I reply with a chuckle, peeking up at him.
“Only possibly?”
“Shut up. You have a bite,” I
point out as his bobber dips below the surface.
A few hours later, Airen and
Carson are cleaning the fish while Jayla and I watch.
“I caught the biggest one,”
Carson boasts. Airen just smiles, but Jayla is having none of that.
“You did not. Airen’s catfish
is twice the size.”
Carson cocks his head and
looks at Airen, his cheeks red from the sun. “I don’t know what we’re going to
do without an eye doctor,” he says.
“What are you talking about
now?” asks Jayla, her hands planted on her hips.
“I’m concerned about getting
you the glasses you obviously need.”
“All right. It doesn’t matter
whose is bigger,” I lecture. Airen grins and raises his eyebrows at me. “Don’t
you start,” I warn, smothering a grin. “You’d better remember who’s going to
cook those fish.”
Carson interrupts. “You mean
these big, meaty fish the
men
caught?”
Jayla looks around. “I only
see one man.”
“Again, because you need
glasses. You’re just mad that you didn’t catch anything.”
“I did! You know it was too
small, and we had to throw it back.”
“I’m just surprised you could
see it,” Carson remarks smugly.
“Hey! Thing One and Thing Two,
that’s enough.” They will go on all day if I don’t intervene.
Jayla sticks out her tongue at
Carson and turns her back to him, but ignoring him doesn’t last for long.
Walking back, Carson and Jayla are a few yards ahead of us on the trail.
“They argue like brother and
sister, but look at them,” Airen remarks, watching them fondly.
Laughing and talking together,
Carson pauses for Jayla to pick a few wild flowers growing along the side of
the trail. Typical kids. That’s what we see. Happy, carefree kids.
“He’s so much happier since
you two came along. I was so worried and preoccupied trying to keep us alive,
fed, and safe, I didn’t realize how lonely he was.”
“What about you?” He glances
at me.
You would think after seeing
him every day I’d be accustomed to his beauty. If anything, it has become more
difficult to ignore. His dark eyes sparkle as the shafts of sunlight filtering
through the trees strike him, giving his face a quality I can’t quite
articulate. My heart speeds up in response.
He has become more muscular,
probably from hauling water, gas, and wood as we prepare for winter. When he
removes his shirt and tucks it into his waistband, sweat glistens on his chest.
It’s distracting.
“What about me?” I reply.
“Are you happier?”
I hate it when he’s so direct.
“I’m good. You?”
“I’m hungry.” He smiles, also
dodging the question.
“I’ll make lunch if you’ll
fill the generators.”
“Deal.”
Three gasoline generators sit
in a row behind our house, a tangle of extension cords jutting from their sides
and threaded through the dryer vent. The generators are loud, and having power
cords weaving through the house, tripping us up is a pain, but it’s our only
option. Battery powered lanterns replace our lamps, freeing the limited outlets
for the most necessary appliances, like a refrigerator and stove. We travel to
surrounding gas stations to siphon from their tanks. I’m concerned about what
we’ll do if we run out. Fortunately, with an abundance of gas stations and
vehicles full of fuel at our disposal, it will be a long time before that
becomes an issue.
The truth is I worry
constantly. The lack of electricity and running water are only the tip of the
iceberg. There are no doctors, no new medicine being manufactured, and no way
to get help in an emergency. If one of us would break a leg, how would we set
it? What if one of the kids gets appendicitis? An appendectomy was nothing
before—there’s that word again—but now it’s a death sentence. I try not to
dwell on these fears, but they’re always on my mind. We’re alone. Horribly,
desperately alone. I don’t know how I ever sleep.
Then, there is the food
situation. Currently, it’s not a problem. The stores are full of canned and
packaged food with no shortage of canned fruits, vegetables, and meats.
Unfortunately, that is only a temporary solution since all of it is dated to expire
within two years. We have a two year window to become completely self-sufficient.
This is where the librarian in me wakes up and stands at attention.
It’s all about education. We
have to learn how to grow and preserve our own food and treat our own illnesses
and injuries. It’s Little House on the Damn Prairie around here, no internet,
no answers at our fingertips. Only books. I’ve spent almost as much time
amassing books as I have collecting food.
After pillaging the library
for books on gardening and water purification, I thought of the hospital. It’s
the last place in the world I want to go. It’s the only place I know for sure
there will be bodies. When I approach Airen about it, he’s less than
enthusiastic.
“You can get all of that stuff
at the pharmacy,” he argues.
“I found basic first aid
supplies and medicine at the pharmacy. We may need some instruments from the
hospital, and we definitely need the medical guides.”
“Do you plan on performing
surgery?” he asks with a smirk.