Afterglow: An Apocalypse Romance (14 page)

Creed had no idea how long he waited, but time had no meaning. He could wait an hour just as easily as he could a minute, his body tensed and ready.

* * *

The explosion tore through the quiet, louder than he thought possible. Thick black smoke billowed up into the air, and an instant later a mushroom cloud of red and orange flames burst upward into the sky.

He peeked around the side of the building, looking toward the theater. He’d been right. The doors opened and he saw heads looking out, trying to see what was happening. Then bodies emerged, two men, then four, then a fifth, looking anxiously up and down the street, then crossing over to get closer to the car. They were dressed similarly, in jeans and hoodies or jackets.

Creed was ready. As soon as the men approached the middle of the street, away from immediate obstacles to duck behind, he began to shoot. The first one went down easy with the first bullet, and he hit the second one before the others noticed something was wrong. They separated then, two running back toward the theater, the fifth toward the fire.

Creed took the chance of getting out from behind the dumpster and the building, standing in the middle of the sidewalk as he took down both men before they could reach the theater doors. One. Two. Motherfuckers.

He’d lost sight of the last guy, the one who’d run toward the burning car, and he knew others would be coming out soon, alerted by the two dead men lying in front of the theater doors. Let them. The rifle had a full magazine. He was ready.

After a few minutes, when no more men came out of the theater, he crept closer to the front doors, moving right next to the side of the building, his arm, the one that hadn’t been shot, scraping the concrete as he made his way closer to the entrance. He passed a movie poster, freed from its glass cage long ago, edges fluttering like ghosts in the wind. Once it had been a glossy photo advertising some romantic comedy he would never have wanted to see, but now, ripped, it looked nothing but sad, the opposite of its original intention.

Creed knew entering the building alone was foolish, but he had no choice. He’d brought out as many as he could, and anyone left inside was probably desperate, prone to do stupid ruthless things. And Nina could be in there. He couldn’t leave her alone.

Even now, several weeks, at least, since the movie theater had been open to the public, the scent of popcorn lingered in the air. The sidewalk under Creed’s feet was spotted with blackened spots of old gum, as though even before this had become a ghost town nobody had cared much about this street. The front doors were ajar; nobody had closed them again after the group left to check out the fire, which made him wonder if anybody was left inside. Could he be that lucky?

Slowly he made his way inside the front door, arms holding the rifle close to his body, finger on the trigger ready to shoot anybody who got in his way. Stepping over velvet ropes and poles, he passed the empty concession stand. The theater was dark, the only light coming in through the now-open front doors, and he stood still for a few moments, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. There was a lower level to the building, and he started down the winding staircase to check it out, able to see barely anything at all.

At the bottom he made out a mess of junk on the floor, and kneeling down to touch it he realized it was bedding. Blankets and sleeping bags. A few pillows. This must be where the men slept. With his hands, he felt around, locating a backpack and rifling through it until he found what he knew would be there: a flashlight. Now he began to search in earnest. If Nina was here he had to find her, quickly, before anyone else came back.

When he opened the men’s restroom the smell of urine assaulted him, and he fought back a cough. Apparently it was being used, though the plumbing wasn’t working, and he skipped the women’s room, assuming it was the same. The only other room down here was a door marked “Office,” and he approached it, his spine tingling.

He had a feeling about this door. He held the flashlight in his mouth while he grabbed the handle with one hand, his gun ready in his other. Slowly he turned the knob, then pushed the door inward. As the light swept the room he saw her.

“Nina.” His whisper was hoarse as he rushed over to her, relief like a shot of adrenaline running hard and fast through his body.

Her eyes grew wide as he rushed toward her where she sat on the floor against the wall. A gag, some sort of fabric, had been shoved into her mouth, and her hands and feet were tied. Her clothes were intact, and Creed said a quick prayer of gratitude for that. It didn’t mean she hadn’t been touched, but he didn’t think he could have stood it to see her clothes ripped apart.

When he pulled the gag out of her mouth, she took a deep breath. “Creed,” she whispered. “I thought you were dead.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.” He turned her sideways to cut through the rope that tied her hands together, then thrust a gun into her hands. “Do you know how many of them there are?”

“I’m not sure,” she said. “Five or six. Maybe seven?”

He nodded, then bent to untie her feet. The rope was tied tighter and his pocketknife was having a harder time. He focused on cutting, trying to hurry, knowing that at any second someone might return.

“Creed,” whispered Nina, her voice filled with fear.

“I know. Just a second,” he muttered, trying desperately to get her loose.

“Someone’s coming.” The urgency in her voice more than her words scared him.

“Almost done,” he said.

And then a shot rang out, and he fell to the floor, pulling Nina down with him.

–Nina–

Nina slammed to the floor, her ears ringing from the gunshot in the small room. Recoil from the gun and Creed’s huge body pushed her down fast, and for a second, she lost her breath. But there was no time to waste. She had to make sure her shot had landed.

“Did I get him?” she whispered into Creed’s shoulder; she could feel his heart beating hard on top of her.

He shifted and looked back over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he whispered , then took her face in his hands, gazing into her eyes hard. Even in the dark, she could see the intensity radiating from them. “Are you OK, Nina?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Stay here.” He was off her in a second, and she heard him moving around. “Double checking. He’s dead,” said Creed a second later.

“Untie me. Please. Let’s get out of here.”

Creed was back, finishing with the rope, then helping her to her feet. “There might be more of them,” he whispered.

“I know,” said Nina as they crept to the doorway. Satisfaction flooded through Nina as Creed briefly shone the light on the dead body and she saw it was Landon, the three-piece suit already thickening with dark blood. His blue eyes stared out, empty and glassy, into nothing.

Fuck you
, she thought as they left the office, heading past the stinky bathrooms and to the stairway.

* * *

“Come on,” said Creed, pulling Nina toward his bike. They’d taken it slow moving outside, making sure nobody was around.

Nina’s teeth were chattering, her body colder than she’d ever been. She was sure it was a combination of the low temperature plus shock, and Creed looked at her, concern written across his face.

“We won’t ride long,” he said. “Just far enough away from here that we’re safe. Put this on.” He pulled her leather jacket out of one of the side bags where she’d stowed it for the night in the woods.

Gratefully she slipped it on and zipped it up, but she was still hopelessly cold. They had to move, though, so she climbed on the bike behind Creed.

“They stole my bike,” he muttered.

“Aw, you missed Trigger, huh?” said Nina, somehow managing to tease him despite the terror and cold that ravaged her body.

Creed reached back and squeezed her leg just above her knee, a comforting feeling, and warmth suffused her body for a few seconds. There was something so right about the way he touched her, the way a boyfriend would give his girlfriend a little reminder that he was there, that he was thinking about her. Of course it wasn’t anything like that in real life. Things were far too complicated for that.

Still, as the motorcycle took off Nina closed her eyes for a second and imagined a world where she could date Creed, where everything was normal and perfect and she hadn’t been locked in the basement of an abandoned movie theater by a gang of disgusting thugs. She might be a die-hard realist, but even she needed a few moments of fantasy.

* * *

Nina wasn’t sure how long they rode, just that she was shaking uncontrollably from cold, her teeth literally chattering. Even her bones felt chilled, as though all the way to her core she was frozen.

Finally they came to another town, this one looking as abandoned as the last, though now Nina knew you could never be sure. There could be another gang, just like at the last town, hiding out in the old diner or laundromat or any one of the buildings lining the street. Further into town, the unmistakable stench of rotting and half-burned corpses assaulted Nina, and she tried not to breathe as they drove past a park, in the center of which a pile of half-burned bodies lay.

Creed kept driving, and the town turned into streets of rundown houses, then fields with an occasional farm, just like before. She wasn’t sure what criteria Creed used to choose a house, but finally, just when she was sure she couldn’t take the cold anymore, he pulled into a driveway.

“Careful,” he urged as she climbed off the bike, and he handed her a pistol, holding one as well. They slowly approached the house. The front door was unlocked, and after a quick search they determined it was vacant.

Creed locked the doors. “I’ll board them soon, but first we need to get you warm,” he said. “Take off your clothes.”

“Wow,” said Nina, somehow managing to joke despite herself, “you sure know how to sweet-talk a girl.”

Creed growled. “Nina, I’m not fucking around. You’re going to get sick. Take off your clothes. Now.”

Nina wanted to refuse just out of principle alone, but the truth was she was freezing, shaking so hard she could barely get her clothes off. Her fingers were swollen and stiff and didn’t want to move the right way. Creed led her, naked, to the couch, where he wrapped her in a comforter he’d found in one of the bedrooms. Then he went to work breaking up furniture to make a fire.

“We’re lucky there’s a fireplace,” said Nina, teeth still chattering.

“No luck about it. I picked a house with a chimney.” Creed didn’t even look at her when he spoke, his sole intent on getting the fire going. Grabbing a book from the coffee table, he glanced at it. “Sorry, Shakespeare,” he muttered, tearing out pages and rolling them up into balls that he threw into the fireplace, then arranged them between the pieces of wood.

Using a lighter, he set the balls of paper on fire, then continued feeding smaller pieces of wood he’d splintered apart into the flames until it was big enough that the chair legs caught too. Warmth emanated toward Nina, and she signed in relief. The smoky scent and the crackling of the fire relaxed her. She was still cold, but this was taking the edge off.

Finally Creed approached her, knelt down in front of where she sat bundled up on the couch. When he looked into her eyes, his were intense, dark, and angry. But lines of worry creased his face too.

“Are you OK, Nina?” His voice was so low, and there was masked anguish in it.

“Yeah. I’m starting to warm up. Thanks, Creed.”

“No. I’m not talking about being cold. I’m talking about the movie theater.”

“I’m fine.”

“Did they... are you...” His voice broke off like he didn’t even want to put his questions into words.

“They didn’t touch me, Creed. Not like that. They would have if you hadn’t...” Now her voice broke off and before she even knew it was happening tears sprang to her eyes. She hated to cry, especially in front of other people, but she couldn’t help it. Sobs tore through her, her body shaking both from the tears and the effort to hold them back, until she gave in and just let them come.

In a heartbeat Creed was on the couch next to her, pulling her into his chest and holding her. His arms were steel, like a cage around her, strong enough to keep any danger out. Nina wanted to stay right here, in this living room, with the fire warming them and Creed holding her forever. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this safe.

“I’m sorry. I’m being such a big baby.” Nina wiped her nose with the back of her hand and sucked in air, trying to calm down and stop the crying.

“Shut up, Nina.”

“Excuse me?” The shock at his response actually stopped her crying.

“I said
shut up, Nina
. What you just went through earned you the right to cry.”

“Well, I hate it anyway. I hate being weak.” She sniffled, not even caring if it sounded gross.

“You’re not. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve known. I’ve never met anyone like you before.”

“Likewise, Creed.” She curled up tighter in his arms. It felt so
good
. Finally her body was warm, and she never wanted to move from this spot.

For a long time they sat like that, cuddled on the couch watching the flames. The dancing fire hypnotized Nina, all the reds and oranges, the crackles and pops from time to time.

Then Creed’s voice, deep and warm, broke the silence. “We were in a small province in western Iraq. I was with my brother-in-law Chris, who was also one of my best friends. He was like my own brother, you know? It was a humanitarian project we were doing, helping clear out a school building after some local unrest had left it unusable. A relatively safe undertaking,” he mused.

“It was fucking stupid work, right? Sweeping and righting desks and picking chalk up off the floor.” His voice was bitter now, and Nina listened more intently but tried not to move, wanting him to keep going. He was finally opening up. “And this kid. Not even a teenager. Came in to thank us. Said he was grateful that we were fixing up the place. You know what I fucking did, Nina? I went out to the truck to get him a bottle of water. And while I was out there, he detonated a bomb he’d strapped to his chest.

“That was the day I got hurt, but I survived. The worst part is that I had a feeling, that day. My instincts told me something was up with that kid, but I ignored it because everyone else was acting like everything was OK. The men that died? They were like brothers, Nina. Especially Chris.” His voice broke.

“Creed,” Nina whispered, and nothing else. What was there to say?

“I loved him. And I loved my sister and Kaylee. I went to live with them, help take care of them, after Chris died.”

The room was silent except for the crackling of the fire. Nina felt like she should say something, but she had no idea how to respond to Creed, so she let the silence surround them.

“The worst thing in the world is to lose someone you love.” Creed’s arm tensed around her, holding her tighter, pulling her closer to him.

She reached up, her arm cool outside the blanket, to caress his cheek, the rough beard prickly under her hand. He stared into her eyes and Nina swore she could see love in them, more love than she’d ever expected. More love than she deserved. He opened his mouth, and Nina held her breath, waiting for the words he was about to speak.

“I need to find wood.” His face went cold, his words equally chilly. Abruptly, though gently, he got off the couch, making sure Nina was resting comfortably in the corner before disappearing behind the glow of his flashlight into the kitchen.

What the hell? Nina’s head was spinning from how close they’d been for those few minutes, how perfect it felt, at how ready she’d been to say the words.
I love you
. If he’d said them she would have too. Because she meant them, she realized. It was improbable and possibly stupid. But apparently her heart wasn’t smart. Because she was 100% in love with Creed.

* * *

“Wow, Creed, you’re a good cook.” Nina smiled as she finished off her second single-sized container of applesauce and stuffed two Wheat Thins into her mouth.

“The pickings are slim, sweetheart.” Creed took a long draw from a bottle of Beck’s he’d found in the kitchen, then handed it to Nina.

She swallowed the room-temperature beer, marveling at how good it tasted. And she’d never really been a beer person. There was no pump out back like the last house they’d stayed in, so they were splitting a beer and hydrating with a jug of Hawaiian Punch that tasted exactly like childhood to Nina. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had some.

“Creed, you know I’m still naked under this blanket, right?” she asked, handing him the beer back.

“Nina? I’ve thought about absolutely nothing else for the past hour.” In the light from the fire she could see his mouth, turned up in a smirk.

“Perv. Can you go find me some clothes?”

“I’m cool if you just want to stay naked a little longer,” he teased.

“Creed! Please?”

“Fine.” He got up and disappeared into the rest of the house.

After getting Nina warmed up, Creed had cleaned and bandaged his arm, insisting on doing it himself, and Nina hadn’t argued much. Her hands were shaking from nerves and cold, and she wasn’t sure she could handle caring for his wound, as minor as it turned out to be.

Then he’d gotten food ready and they’d gorged themselves on the few unspoiled items in the kitchen. Now full, Nina was suddenly tired. But she needed clothes, and the ones she’d worn before were dirty. The smell of them, faint popcorn and stale cigarettes and a whiff of Landon’s cologne threatened to send her straight into the whirlwinds of panic, and she needed them gone.

After about fifteen minutes Creed returned, his arms filled with clothes. “Here,” he said, holding up a pair of jeans. “This is the closest I could find to your size. You know, if you weren’t so short...”

“Hey! At least I’m not a monster like you are.”

“A monster? I’ve been called a lot, sweetheart, but
monster
’s a first.”

Nina shrugged. “Anyway, I can roll them up. Or cut off the bottoms.”

He’d also brought a plain gray sweatshirt, what looked like a jog bra, and a pair of white athletic socks. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear someone else’s underwear,” he said.

“I’d rather go commando,” muttered Nina.

“That’s fucking hot.”

“Anyway, I’m going to get dressed before we go to sleep. I need to be ready at night. In case, well, you know.”

“I do.” Now his voice was low, any trace of humor from before gone.

Nina glanced at Creed, nervous to take off the blanket and get dressed in front of him. Which was ridiculous, really. They’d slept together. There wasn’t anything here he hadn’t seen. Or touched. Or licked. A shiver, this time of desire, ran through Nina’s body.