Free Survival Instinct by Kay Glass

added as her eyes flicked to it, “but I’d really prefer you hear me out. If you think I deserve to die afterwards, I’ll even let you use my own weapon against me.”
    She wondered if he was out of his freaking mind, but he seemed as though he actually meant that. True to his word, he slowly extended his foot and flicked it sharply, sending his service weapon skittering across the floor to land at her feet. She reached down, keeping her eyes on his as she felt for the gun before picking it up. Nadine checked the safety, and once she was sure it was engaged, she tucked it behind her in the waistband of her maternity pants in the small of her back. Then she cautiously lowered herself to a seated position on an air mattress where he’d obviously been sleeping for God knows how long. “I’m listening,” she said shortly.
    Ryan didn’t speak right away. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and she waited semi-patiently. After all, it had likely been some time since he’s spoken to anyone, judging by the raspy quality of his voice. Hers was hoarse as well from disuse, so she’d let him figure out how to tell his story, and watch him like the proverbial hawk to see if he was telling her the truth.
    “My note was mostly true, the one you found,” he began, and then nodded at her when she pulled the notebook out of the bag she’d set to her left. Jonesy was curled up at her right, and he, too, watched Ryan intently. “Yes, the note you have there. I did go AWOL, I did go see my mother, and I returned to the chaos at base. That was all true. But what I didn’t mention for fear of no one coming was that I’d had my vaccine before sneaking off base that night.” At her frown, he raised one bushy eyebrow. “Yes, that’s exactly it. I knew this place was as safe as I could make it, and I wanted to make sure everyone had a chance to find it. Of course, you took the letter…” He allowed the sentence to drift off and smiled when she blushed.
    Oh boy, she was in trouble here. He had dimples, deep ones, evidently, as they showed even when the corners of his mouth twitched. She was a sucker for dimples. Forcing her mind back to the present, she responded. “So, knowing you’d been vaccinated with the very thing that caused this epidemic, you invite everyone to join you in your fortress? How kind of you,” Nadine shot back. Sarcasm was her natural reaction to discomfort, and she slipped it in place like a well-loved robe. It felt wonderful to be sarcastic towards someone other than herself once more.
    Ryan merely expanded that twitch to a full-wattage smile, and she inwardly cursed her pregnancy hormones. “It led you here, and I’m not into cannibalism.” She nodded as he continued. “Anyway, I felt sick, miserable, and like I had a cold after the vaccine, sort of how people complain about flu-like symptoms when they get vaccinated against influenza. I slept for a few hours and woke up feeling like myself, except for the reaction to the vaccination site,” he said, lifting his disfigured arm for emphasis. The skin around the puncture mark was blackened and peeling, about the size of a golf ball. But there were no signs of it spreading, or red lines running up and down the length of his arm, hinting at infection. “It’s looked like this since March 20, and there’s been no change.”
    Nadine mulled that over. He didn’t seem ill. His eyes weren’t red-rimmed or runny, although fatigue was obvious and to be expected. His nose wasn’t red and puffy. He seemed like any healthy, tired man. “All right, so say I believe that. I suppose, come to that, I actually do, as the evidence pretty much speaks for itself.” She leaned forward for emphasis. “You still haven’t explained the bite mark ,” she accused.
    Ryan rubbed absently at his wrist, not like it hurt, but more in a gesture of something rapidly becoming a habit. “I’d fled the base, obviously, once I saw how it was all playing out. I wasn’t