Contaminated 2: Mercy Mode by Em Garner

Author:Em Garner
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781606843574
Publisher: EgmontUSA
Published: 2014-08-26T05:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

THE MUSTANG’S NOT THE BEST CAR FOR going back and forth. Fun. Fast. But not that big and not really practical. We find a Chevy Suburban, and I take that instead. Dillon’s not willing to give up his dad’s pickup, though he admits that if it does break down, he can see the benefit of looking for something else.

“It’s like our own private car lot,” I tell him as we arrange supplies in rows on the shelves we’ve set up in the basement, echoing the way it was in Sandra’s house. I push that thought away, not wanting to think about what else they’d kept in the basement. We’ve built a little shelter, way more comfortable and safe than what she had. But I don’t want to think about my mom needing to use it. Or me, for that matter. “And shopping mall. And warehouse club. And we don’t even need a credit card.…”

Dillon gives me a strange look. “You love this.”

I pause in arranging the cans of fruit I’m organizing by type. “I don’t love it.”

But there is something exciting about it. Once we got started, Opal and I have become really good scavengers. We can strip out rooms in minutes, taking what we can use and putting aside what we can’t. We can clear a house in a day, sometimes one in the morning and one in the afternoon.

Dillon grabs my arm to keep me from taking another handful of cans from the plastic bin I’d packed them in to bring home. He squeezes my bicep. “You’re getting strong.”

I curl my arm, making the muscle bulge. “Rawr.”

In the harsh white light of the LED lantern, his eyes look very bright. His hair’s grown long enough to fall into his eyes, and he shakes his head to push it away. All at once, he’s so handsome, I can’t stand it. I have to kiss him.

“What’s that for?” He laughs, kissing me back.

“Because I … wanted to,” I finish, unable to say more than that. Lame. Oh, so lame.

Cheeks burning, I turn back to pulling out cans of fruit and vegetables and soup, stacking them in order.

“Velvet,” Dillon says softly. “Hey.”

I don’t want to look at him. We’ve never talked about being in love. We went from dating to being married in what seemed like a snap of our fingers. And even though we’d barely been boyfriend and girlfriend before that, I didn’t mind the titles of husband and wife, that legality, because it made sense. It had always felt like a totally practical decision we’d both made when we got the word that they were going to start restricting ration disbursement and health benefits. It hadn’t been romantic. We hadn’t talked about our feelings. We’d just decided that the benefits made sense. But now …

“It’s going to be dark soon. We should get this stuff put away,” I say.

The work goes fast. And he was right, I think. I do love it. Not just the clearing out of the

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