Tomorrow Land (22 page)

She could see his hard swallow. His mind hard at work to craft a reasonable explanation. One that would make her leave him alone. “My face was killing me,” he said at last, reaching up to the stitched cut. “I thought maybe a painkiller would help, okay? I’m sorry. I didn’t know it would make me pass out.”

It could have been true. But she doubted it. Too many things were sliding into place. His strange mood swings. His secret “mission” when they’d first met. His lengthy disappearance after his brother had died. The signs had all been there, but she’d missed them, wanting so badly to be able to depend on another person. To be able to shed some of the control and trust someone else.

Well, those days were now over. She knew from now on, the only person she could rely on was herself. No more relaxing. No more letting someone else take control. It was her against the world until she finally found her father. He was the only one left she could depend on.

*

The birds were chirping the next morning from their perches on fallen branches. The storm had passed through in the night and the sun shone down, as if apologizing for stepping away and letting nature do its worst. Chase helped the group hang their sopping sleeping bags up over makeshift clotheslines and sort through what food was still good and what had rotted from the rain. They’d probably lost half their supplies in the hurricane and he knew it was all his fault. At least the horses had come back—they would have been in big trouble if even one of them had gotten lost in the storm. That was something at least.

If only he hadn’t taken those stupid pills. Peyton blamed him for all of this. And with good reason. His weakness had caused him to hurt the girl he loved, not to mention endangered the kids he’d been asked to protect. He’d slowed down their journey, too—there was no way they’d be able to leave the camp today, at least until everything dried out. In short, he’d done everything he’d promised he wouldn’t. No wonder Peyton didn’t want anything to do with him. He wasn’t worthy of a girl like her.

He watched her from across the camp, doling out breakfast to the children. They all clamored around her, laughing and chattering about the crazy storm. And she was laughing right back, though he knew she must be furious inside. At having to delay. At having him screw everything up. But you could never tell it from how she handled the children. She knew that they depended on her and wasn’t going to let them down, even though in reality they weren’t her responsibility whatsoever.

How did she do it? How did she stay so strong? Was it her enhancements? Did they allow her to switch off the pain as well as turn on the power? Or was she just a better person than him? Able to put aside the hurt and focus on what needed to be done? If only he could be more like her.

He made a vow. From now on it’d be different. He’d be a man, live up to his responsibilities. Care for and protect the kids. He’d show Peyton he wasn’t the weak, pathetic drug addict she thought him to be, but a strong, capable person who didn’t let other people down. Who didn’t let her down.

Feeling inspired, he approached her, just as she was doling out the last of the soup to the children. She looked at him warily. He supposed he deserved it.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

She hedged, looking around. “I’m kind of busy.”

“It’ll only take a minute. It’s important.”

“I can clean up here,” Starr assured her, grabbing the spoon from her hand. “Go ahead.”

Peyton reluctantly followed Chase to the other end of the camp, arms folded across her chest. “What?” she asked when they were alone.

“I wanted to apologize,” he said. “I screwed up and I know it. I was irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re right. It won’t. Because I’m taking the watch from now on.” She’d stayed up the rest of last night and it showed on her face, he realized. Dark circles haunted her eyes and her face looked gaunt.

“Peyton, that’s ridiculous. You have to sleep sometime,” he protested.

He could see her struggling to keep her face even. “I’ll figure something out.”

“You don’t have to. I can help,” he cried. “I won’t take more pills. I promise. I’ll just take aspirin if my face hurts from now on.”

She ran a hand through her hair, staring off into the distance, looking this close to breaking—to totally falling apart. She was trying so desperately to be strong. But he could see the cracks around the edges. She was scared. And it was his fault. The thought crushed him.

“I want to be able to believe you,” she said at last, her voice choked. “But it’s not just me I have to be think about. It’s the kids, too. They depend on you. I know you were forced into this when Tank died—that it wasn’t what you wanted—but—”

“It
is
what I want,” he cried, feeling anguished, desperate to have her believe him. “I love the kids with all my heart. I would gladly die for them if I had to.” He would, too, he realized. He’d die for any one of them. And for her, too, if need be. He loved them all. From loud-mouth Red to sweet little Sunshine. And he’d do anything to keep them safe. Even giving up the drugs.

He realized, suddenly, what he had to do. Reaching into his pocket with trembling hands, he pulled out his precious prescription bottle. It took everything inside of him, but he managed to drop it into her hands.

“Get rid of them,” he told her, his voice hoarse. “Throw them away and never let me see them again. I’m done with them forever. From here on out I only have one priority. Getting you and the children to Disney World.”

Peyton looked down at the bottle, then up at him. “Are you sure about this?” she asked.

He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure at all. Half of him wanted to grab the bottle and take it all back. Figure out another way to get back in her good graces. One that didn’t involve sleepless, agonizing nights filled with pain. The cut on his cheek stung just thinking about it.

But it was the only way and he knew it. And Peyton and the children were worth it.

“I’m sure,” he said, firming his resolve. “No more drugs. No more letting you down. You can rely on me from here on out; I swear it.” He gave her a hopeful smile.

She didn’t smile back. “I hope so,” she said, stuffing the bottle in her pocket and turning to walk away. “I really hope so.”

Chapter Twenty-five

Peyton ran down the street, tears blinding her. She knew she should go to the market, should stand in line as her mother had asked her to and collect the food they needed to stay in good health. But she couldn’t bring herself to go. Not yet.

She didn’t know where she was running and surprised herself when she ended up at Chris Parker’s house. It was weird to think the boy she’d barely tolerated for so many years had become her number one source of comfort.

Banging on the door, she prayed he was home. Home and—

A crazy thought struck her. What if he was sick, too? What if everyone was sick? Everyone but her. She tried to decide which would be worse: dying, or being the only one left alive. Both options seemed beyond awful.

The door swung open. A six-year-old, dark-skinned girl peered out with huge almond-shaped eyes. She was dressed in a pair of cut-off jeans, as was the fashion, and a beaded silver top.

“Um, hi,” Peyton said. “Is Chris here?”

“Chris!” the girl called loudly, not bothering to turn around.

“Yeah?” a voice in the distance called back. Peyton let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. He was okay. He was alive.

“Some girl at the door.”

“Who?”

The little girl looked up at Peyton with a mixture of boredom and inquiry.

“Peyton,” she said.

“Peyton!” the girl repeated loudly for Chris’s benefit.

“Be right there.”

The child snapped her gum. “He’ll be right here,” she said unnecessarily, not unblocking the door to let Peyton inside. The whole scene was just so normal that she found herself relaxing. The entire world wasn’t crazy. At least not yet.

“Um, yeah. Thanks.”

A moment later, Chris appeared. He ruffled the little sentry’s hair. “You can let her in, you know, Tara,” he told her. Then he turned to Peyton. “Don’t mind her,” he said fondly. “She’s just overprotective.” He shuffled her away from the door and beckoned for Peyton to enter.

She followed him down into a finished basement packed with sim decks and other electronic equipment. He invited her to sit down on the red plaid sofa and asked if she wanted a drink.

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” He looked down at her, concerned. “You look pale. Maybe some water?”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He pressed a button on the refrigeration unit at the far end of the room. A bottle of water popped out of the slot below. He handed it to her.

“How have you been?” he asked, sitting down beside her. “Still thinking about Mt. Holyoke?”

She shrugged, pulling her legs up under her. Taking a sip of the water, she tried to decide how best to answer the question. She hadn’t forgotten the monster, of course. But now it seemed almost irrelevant, given the news she’d received a few minutes before. “I went by Avery’s today,” she told him, her voice shaking. “And she’s… she’s sick.”

“Oh, Peyton, I’m sorry.” Chris leaned over and pulled her into a huge hug. That was all it took for her to lose her last semblance of control. Tears flowed from her eyes, soaking his t-shirt. Feeling embarrassed, she tried to pull away, but he held her tight, stroking her back with gentle fingers.

“She’s my best friend,” Peyton sobbed. “What if she dies? What if everyone dies? If kids are now getting it, then what hope do the rest of us have?”

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure,” she said, wondering what on Earth he was going to say.

“Have you gotten your AIDS vaccine?”

What? What did he just say? She jerked away, angry. “What are you asking?” she demanded. “I’m trying to tell you my best friend is probably dying and you’re interested in whether or not I have my LTF?” She glared at him. What a mistake she’d made coming here. And to think she’d thought he was different. But no, he was just like Drew and the rest of mankind, thinking with his dick. Maybe it was better the plague wiped them all out. They were truly pathetic as a species.

Chris held up his hands in protest. “Relax!” he cried. “Jeez, it’s not like I’m asking to get in your pants.”

She glowered at him, not sure what to say.

“Wow, you really think I’d try something like that when you’re crying? What do you take me for?” He shook his head. “I’m asking ‘cause I’ve been doing some more forum trolling and from what some scientists have gathered, it seems the flu may be some kind of reaction to the AIDS vaccine. They claim that all the victims so far have been vaccinated.”

“Oh.” She felt her face flame as she realized what he was saying. How stupid of her to think he wanted sex. He was Chris, not Drew. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…” She trailed off, realizing the implications of his words. “So you’re saying the plague only affects those with their LTFs?” It made perfect sense. Avery had just gotten hers. Now she was sick. Peyton hadn’t, and she felt fine. And her dad insisted she’d be okay. He’d probably read the same research. “Are you sure? I haven’t heard anything like that on the news.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘cause the government controls the media still, and they don’t want any people taking revenge. After all, they’re the ones who made it a requirement to get inoculated.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Peyton thought for a moment. “God, that’s so terrible. More than three-quarters of our population has gotten the shot. All that’s going to be left is a bunch of kids.”

Chris nodded. “That’s what it looks like. Unless other adults are immune.”

She felt cold. Scared. She buried her head back in his chest, wanting his warmth. He wrapped his arms around her again, nuzzling her head with his chin. “I know it’s scary,” he whispered. “But I promise, we’ll get through. We’ll figure out a way.”

She nodded against him, enjoying the sensation of his hands rubbing up and down her back. He felt warm and solid and safe. Unlike the rest of the world.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he swore. “I’ll keep you safe.”

She looked up at him, knowing her face was blotchy and her cheeks tearstained. “Do you really mean that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Sensations she hadn’t been aware existed were now coursing down her spine, tickling and tingling. He was so sweet. So brave. So caring. What had she been thinking all these years? Calling him a tech-head and valuing losers like Drew instead. He was a lot like a diamond himself. And she had treated him as a shard of broken glass.

“Of course,” he replied, gravely serious. He reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek. The sensation gave her chills and warmed her belly. “I’d do anything for you, Peyton.”

Suddenly she knew what she wanted.

“Anything?”

“Anything in the world.”

“Kiss me,” she whispered.

And so he did. Pressing his mouth against her lips with a feathery lightness—a wisp of butterfly wings—that at first seemed more caress then kiss. She drank in the sweetness of his tender, worshipful touch, but soon found she wanted more. Needed more. With a soft moan, she parted her lips, coaxing his kiss deeper, more fervent, and they clung to one another, as if their very lives depended on their embrace. The chills started coming, harder and faster, ‘til she found it difficult to breathe.

She’d been kissed before. Plenty of times, in fact. But it had never felt like this. So passionate, so sweet. Maybe it was because of the situation, knowing that the end of the world as they knew it was likely near. Or maybe it was more than that. Maybe they’d been meant to be together. Whatever it was, it felt good. And for the first time since this whole thing began, Peyton felt a tiny bit of peace.

“I love you, Peyton,” Chris whispered, his lips brushing against her mouth as he spoke. And she knew right then and there, crazy as the idea might be, she loved him, too.

If the world was going to end, at the very least they had each other. And that was something.