now?”
She laughed in response. “No, Erik, next year. I’m just giving you extra time to buy a card.” She was surprised to hear Mike laugh for the first time in the weeks since he had found her stumbling at Fort Polk, though he quickly tried to mask it with a forced, and unconvincing, cough.
“Well, that’s... it’s good right? I mean we don’t have to worry about it like we did with Abby. There are tons of kids on the island that were born after the outbreak.”
Offering him the strongest smile she could manage, Lisa replied. “Yes, it’s good. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” She hoped the words did not sound as hollow as they felt. While it was true babies of all blood types had been born safely since the infection, a fact learned only upon arriving in Havana, Lisa knew that a pregnancy would further complicate Paul’s decision regarding their future.
With an over-abundant amount of care, Erik insisted on helping her back to the camp site. Her protestations had been half-hearted though, as she could feel the weakness in her legs. Lisa did however, refuse Erik’s offer of packing her gear. If anything, the task would hopefully push her mind to a new focus. As she crouched to replace the few items she had removed from her pack, Mike’s long shadow fell over her. Wordlessly, Lisa raised her eyes to find him holding out a holstered .40 caliber firearm. More hesitant than she intended, Lisa accepted the weapon from his outstretched arm.
“Thank you,” she said, with more than a little surprise.
“Yeah,” was all that he managed in return as he shifted and walked away. Had she been less emotionally exhausted, Lisa might have shed a tear over the fractional crack in Mike’s wall. The moment soured when a nagging voice in her head said, He did it to protect the baby, not me.
Chapter Seven
“Do you see anything?” Matt whispered in her ear. Shaking her head quickly, Michelle kept her eyes scanning across the debris-crowded marina. Tense moments had passed since there had been any sound or sight of the enemy craft. He had cut the engine of their own boat, which eventually drifted alongside a much larger vessel moored into the sea.
Feeling her anxiety increase with every heartbeat, she turned to Matt. “What are we going to do?” Their pursuers were unlikely to abandon the hunt, especially now that she and Matt were clearly trapped. Further seconds of delay only served to allow the Mohawk to arrive and cut off all means of escape.
“How good of a swimmer are you?”
Spending a youth more focused on books than physical activities, Michelle had only infrequently experienced bodies of water. And since the outbreak, the mountain camp certainly did not afford the chance to hone aquatic skills.
“Better than a doggie paddle, but not by much,” she told him honestly. Whatever he had planned, she wanted to make sure he had all the information he needed.
“Well, you’re getting a lesson today,” he rejoined with a twitch of a grin. In hurried, hushed tones, Matt detailed his idea. Michelle could see many holes in the plan, but without a viable alternative, she agreed. He worked wordlessly, preparing what he hoped would divert the enemy before the pair slid into the chilled water.
She had to bite back a gasp as her flesh pimpled from the temperature. Tugging her along, Matt helped her move through the bobbing water. Their movements were slow and cautious, the slightest splash risked revealing their location before they could fully set the trap. Focusing solely on keeping her head above the waterline, Michelle hoped that he was keeping a look out. It didn’t matter if they were discovered now, she knew. Barely able to swim, she could offer no defense.
Her arms and legs were beginning to feel like lead weights branching off from her body. Their destination was still yards in the distance, and Michelle feared her burning lungs might not be able to sustain the effort. More frequently, large
She laughed in response. “No, Erik, next year. I’m just giving you extra time to buy a card.” She was surprised to hear Mike laugh for the first time in the weeks since he had found her stumbling at Fort Polk, though he quickly tried to mask it with a forced, and unconvincing, cough.
“Well, that’s... it’s good right? I mean we don’t have to worry about it like we did with Abby. There are tons of kids on the island that were born after the outbreak.”
Offering him the strongest smile she could manage, Lisa replied. “Yes, it’s good. There’s nothing to worry about anymore.” She hoped the words did not sound as hollow as they felt. While it was true babies of all blood types had been born safely since the infection, a fact learned only upon arriving in Havana, Lisa knew that a pregnancy would further complicate Paul’s decision regarding their future.
With an over-abundant amount of care, Erik insisted on helping her back to the camp site. Her protestations had been half-hearted though, as she could feel the weakness in her legs. Lisa did however, refuse Erik’s offer of packing her gear. If anything, the task would hopefully push her mind to a new focus. As she crouched to replace the few items she had removed from her pack, Mike’s long shadow fell over her. Wordlessly, Lisa raised her eyes to find him holding out a holstered .40 caliber firearm. More hesitant than she intended, Lisa accepted the weapon from his outstretched arm.
“Thank you,” she said, with more than a little surprise.
“Yeah,” was all that he managed in return as he shifted and walked away. Had she been less emotionally exhausted, Lisa might have shed a tear over the fractional crack in Mike’s wall. The moment soured when a nagging voice in her head said, He did it to protect the baby, not me.
Chapter Seven
“Do you see anything?” Matt whispered in her ear. Shaking her head quickly, Michelle kept her eyes scanning across the debris-crowded marina. Tense moments had passed since there had been any sound or sight of the enemy craft. He had cut the engine of their own boat, which eventually drifted alongside a much larger vessel moored into the sea.
Feeling her anxiety increase with every heartbeat, she turned to Matt. “What are we going to do?” Their pursuers were unlikely to abandon the hunt, especially now that she and Matt were clearly trapped. Further seconds of delay only served to allow the Mohawk to arrive and cut off all means of escape.
“How good of a swimmer are you?”
Spending a youth more focused on books than physical activities, Michelle had only infrequently experienced bodies of water. And since the outbreak, the mountain camp certainly did not afford the chance to hone aquatic skills.
“Better than a doggie paddle, but not by much,” she told him honestly. Whatever he had planned, she wanted to make sure he had all the information he needed.
“Well, you’re getting a lesson today,” he rejoined with a twitch of a grin. In hurried, hushed tones, Matt detailed his idea. Michelle could see many holes in the plan, but without a viable alternative, she agreed. He worked wordlessly, preparing what he hoped would divert the enemy before the pair slid into the chilled water.
She had to bite back a gasp as her flesh pimpled from the temperature. Tugging her along, Matt helped her move through the bobbing water. Their movements were slow and cautious, the slightest splash risked revealing their location before they could fully set the trap. Focusing solely on keeping her head above the waterline, Michelle hoped that he was keeping a look out. It didn’t matter if they were discovered now, she knew. Barely able to swim, she could offer no defense.
Her arms and legs were beginning to feel like lead weights branching off from her body. Their destination was still yards in the distance, and Michelle feared her burning lungs might not be able to sustain the effort. More frequently, large
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