Нора Робертс - Year One

Rubbing idly at his wound, he kept his voice low.

“You know how the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you get that cold right up your spine?”

“Yes.” She experienced it as he spoke.

“Like that. Spit dried up in my mouth. We backed off because, man, it just wasn’t right. It just wasn’t, you know, natural. I’ll cop all the way to wimpy, but I won’t be walking back that way.”

“You think it was magick, dark magick.”

“I don’t know about that stuff, but I know it wasn’t right. I didn’t want to say anything in front of everybody. Just don’t know them yet, right?”

“Tell Max—just Max. He and I will go out there.”

“I wish you wouldn’t. Man, I wish you wouldn’t, but I think you’ve, like, gotta. And if you’ve gotta…” He sighed. “I gotta.”

“When he gets back then. For now, can you use a washing machine?”

“If I have to.”

She patted his cheek. “I was thinking you could wash the clothes we’ve been wearing on the road while we have soap, water, and a machine. It’s a nice machine in a nice little laundry room. You should hang them up to dry once they’re washed, save the generator.”

He let out a puff of air. “Yeah, okay. I guess I can do my bit.”

While he did, Lana assigned herself to take inventory. She wrote down categories, amounts, pounds, number of cans. Then sat down to calculate how many meals, portions, days, weeks, what they had would last.

She glanced up, smiled, when Allegra came in.

“You and Eric sure know how to shine up a kitchen.”

Graceful, she all but floated over in jeans and a bright red sweater. “It’s the least we could do after that amazing breakfast. I might have to join Poe in the gym if you keep cooking like that.”

Allegra wandered to a window. “They’re not back yet?”

“No.” Lana glanced toward the window. “Not yet.”

“I’m sure they’re fine. It really hasn’t been all that long. I have to say I’m glad I’m not out there trudging through the snow. What are you doing?”

“Inventory—starting with food supplies. I’m going to hit other basics like toilet paper, soap, lightbulbs, whatever else I can think of.”

“Oh, we have plenty, don’t you think?” Strolling back, Allegra tapped one of the cans. “It’s not like we’re going to stay here forever. It’s fine right now—middle of the winter—but it’s so isolated. We’ll go stir-crazy. I’m going to open a bottle of wine—something we have plenty of, too. Hey, it’s five o’clock somewhere. Have you seen the wine cellar?”

“No.”

“Talk about inventory. I’ll go get us a bottle, and we can get to know each other. After all, I’m with Eric, you’re with Max. We’re like sisters.”

“You’re right. They’ll be hungry when they get back. I’ve got some chicken thawing out. I thought I’d make tortilla soup for dinner.”

“Sounds fantastic!” Allegra tossed back her hair and left to go down to the cellar.

Soups and stews, Lana thought as she rose. A good way to stretch supplies.

She got what she needed, started putting things together in a large stockpot from memory.

“Wow. It already smells good.” Allegra, brandishing the wine, strolled over to get a corkscrew. “Eric said you’re an actual chef. Professional.”

“That’s right. What were you studying?”

“Liberal arts. I still hadn’t decided where to go with it. I guess it doesn’t matter much now.”

“I hope that’s not true.”

“Everything’s changed.” With a tug, Allegra drew the cork. “It’s smart to make the best of it. I mean, really, what else can we do? Don’t you wonder why we didn’t get sick? What that means for us? For others like us?”

“Yes. Yes, I think about all of that.” Lana rinsed beans in the sink. “But I don’t know the answers.”

“Eric told you he’s changed. I know he told you he can … do things. He told me, even before you got here, that Max could do things. And you, a little. It must be more than a little now. It’s more than a little for Eric.”

“We’re not going to hurt anyone.”

“Oh, I know!” She touched a hand to Lana’s arm, set down the glass of wine. “I won’t tell the others if you don’t want me to. Eric only told me because we’re together. Is Eddie like you?”

“No.”

“You see?” Scooting onto a counter stool, Allegra sipped her wine. “You have to wonder, right? Why some are, some aren’t. What it means. It’s like … I don’t know. The virus, killing so many people, still spreading, I guess. Is it, like, a kind of cleansing?”

“‘Cleansing’?” The word, the idea, just horrified Lana.

“I don’t know. Eric and I talk about it sometimes when we’re alone. And with the others, too, because you have to think about it, wonder about it. I’m upsetting you. I can see it. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault. I’ve thought about it, but it’s all happened so fast. It’s been one day at a time. One hour for some of it.”

Lana stirred the pot, wished she had fresh herbs. Wondered if she ever would again.

Resigned, she got out the chicken—remembered her knives were still wrapped and tucked away. Chose one from the block. Testing the edge, she found it to be good enough.

She sat at the counter—more sociable—with knife, chicken, and board. “I think, yes, the virus opened something. It’s beyond coincidence for it all to have happened at the same time. But why? I don’t know if we’ll ever be sure of that.”

“We heard things on campus, and even after we left. How people, some people, were hunting the ones like you. And some like you were hunting people, and the ones like you, too.”

“I don’t understand why, why when so much is gone, we’d turn against each other.”

“It’s human nature.” With a flip of her hair, Allegra shrugged. “It’s terrible, but it is. You forgot your wine.” Allegra got up to get it herself, sat back down. “We’ll talk about something else. I don’t know what put me in this mood. Being stuck here, I guess. It’s a nice house, sure, but stuck is stuck.”

And safe is safe, Lana thought.

She picked up her wine, started to drink. The smell of it turned her stomach. She set it down again quickly. “It smells off.”

“It does?” Brows together, Allegra sniffed her glass, then Lana’s. “Really?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I need to sauté these chicken strips.”

When she pushed off the stool, the room spun.

“Lana!” Allegra leaped up, started to reach out. Max ran in from the mudroom.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I got up too fast.”

“She got dizzy. I thought she was going to faint. Are you all right?”

“Yes, yes, honestly. It was just a second.” Lana let out a breath, took stock. “Absolutely fine.”

“It’s my fault.” Obviously distressed, Allegra twisted her hands together. “I was going on and on about everything that’s happening, and I upset her.”

“It’s not that. Really, I just got up too fast. Blood pressure drop. All good now.” She pressed her lips to Max’s. “Cold!” And laughed. “I’m making soup—and you can help me out by seeing if there’s any tequila.”

He stroked her face. “Tortilla soup? Funny you should ask. Hey, Poe, how about that tequila? Found some in the cabin we checked out.”

“Like magic,” Allegra said, and laughed.

* * *

Once Lana had her soup simmering, she added what the scouting party had brought in to her inventory list. She shared the list with Max while he built up the fire in the great room.

“What we have, if we’re careful, should cover a couple of weeks.”