XaiJu
jimdattilo
jimdattilo

patreon


ZE Outbreak Novel, Chapter 4

continued from chapter 3

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

The alarm blared at 6 AM, jolting me awake. I was glad for the habits of life, because there was no time to waste. I rolled out of bed, grabbed a banana from the kitchen, and ate it in a few quick. It was time to leave.

I slipped my Glock 17, already loaded, into the front of my pants, the holster clipped to my belt. I checked my reflection in the mirror. The bulge of the gun was noticeable under my T-shirt, but it was too hot outside for a jacket. "Guess this will have to do," I muttered to myself.

I made my way down to the garage, where my Honda Accord waited. I didn’t like flashy cars, and it had just enough room to fit a body if I had to dispose of one out in the woods.

Driving out of the Graduate Hospital area, the city at 6:30 AM felt eerily quiet. As I drove, the aftermath of the riots and protests was painfully evident. Trash littered the streets, and in one spot, the charred remains of a car lay burnt out and abandoned, like the shell of an insect. Storefront windows were smashed, and graffiti was scrawled across walls and shutters. The city was coming apart.

The drive to Bryn Mawr felt surreal, like drifting through someone else's nightmare. Trash-cluttered sidewalks and scattered debris turned Philadelphia into a ghost town. Everything was too quiet, as if the whole city had decided to sleep in, hiding from whatever waited outside.

My Accord hummed beneath me as I hit I-76 West. I pressed down harder, watching the speedometer climb. There were no cops and no traffic, just an empty road stretching ahead, offering up speed like a temptation. Philly’s skyline shrank in the rearview, blurring into distant shapes behind smudged glass.

My thoughts hammered inside my skull. Get there fast. Don't stop. Don't slow down. The emptiness of the highway was unsettling. All around me, the world held its breath, and so did I.

Bryn Mawr stretched out around me like some glossy magazine spread with perfect lawns, huge houses, and driveways filled with cars worth more than I'd make in years. Everything about this place screamed money and privilege and safety. I felt painfully out of place in my beat-up Honda, parked awkwardly among all the polished luxury.

Still, part of me was relieved Gabriel lived here now. He had things I only dreamed about growing up. A good school, safe streets, and the freedom of not worrying about the next bad thing coming down the road. He had a real family. He'd never have to scrape by like I did, and I was grateful for that. I just hated his father.

I parked outside The Baldwin School and the contrast hit me hard. Everything here looked untouched by the chaos swallowing up the city. Perfectly trimmed grass, old stone buildings, quiet, orderly. It was just after seven, and students were already gathering out front. I searched for Gabriel, eyes darting through groups of identical uniforms. She shouldn't even be here today, not with everything going sideways.

Finding Gabriel was nearly impossible. Everyone wore the same clothes, a blur of uniforms blending together. Then I caught sight of him stepping out of Zoe's Lexus. The car was sleek, polished, and expensive. I glanced at my Honda parked a few spaces down and shook my head.

Gabriel closed the car door and headed towards the school entrance. Zoe pulled away, and I took a deep breath and stepped out of my shitty car. He stopped to talk to a trio of students, giving me a chance to cross the street.

"Gabriel," I called out, keeping my voice steady but loud enough to cut through the morning chatter.

He spun around, eyes widening as he caught sight of me. "Sam? What are you doing here?"

I closed the distance between us. "Gabriel, we need to talk. This isn't the place for you right now, not with everything going on in the city."

Gabriel frowned, eyebrows knitting together. "Sam, what are you even talking about? I've got class."

"Classes can wait, Gabriel. The city's going to shit. Riots and protests are everywhere. We need to go now. And then there's the virus."

"I can't just ditch school. Mom and Dad would—"

"They shouldn't have let you out of the house this morning. You're coming with me. Right now."

I was so locked onto Gabriel, I didn't notice his friend slipping away, edging nervously toward a woman in a sharp suit standing near the school’s stone steps.

"Sir!" the woman shouted, moving quickly toward us.

"Gabriel," I said, stepping back, my voice lowered. "We need to leave."

Gabriel didn't move. Couldn't really blame him. I probably looked like some wild-eyed lunatic crashing his perfectly normal morning. Behind him, the woman was closing in fast, already barking into a walkie-talkie. Time to go.

I turned sharply, my boots scraping pavement as I jogged back to the Honda. A final glance showed Gabriel grabbing the woman's arm, trying to hold her back. But he wasn't following. I slammed the car door and hit the gas, my heart banging in my chest.

Another great decision by Sam Caruso, king of impulsive moves.

---

As I drove back home, the last twenty-four hours slammed through my head on repeat. Kayla’s angry face in the gym, the fight downstairs in my lobby, and now scaring Gabriel half to death. Each screw-up pounded against my skull like a hangover that wouldn’t quit. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles went white. I blew past two exits and nearly rear-ended a cop car. Great job, Sam.

I was supposed to be the guy who handled things, who kept his shit together and made the right calls. This impulsive garbage wasn’t me. In the army, they beat calm and strategy into us. Cool heads win fights. But now, I was acting like some out-of-control hothead, burning bridges faster than I could build them.

I didn’t know what to do. I knew I needed to get Gabriel out of the city, but I was doing a bad job of getting it done. If I could go back in time, I would have gone to Connor and had a rational conversation while I had a degree of credibility. He didn’t trust me any longer, and I had freaked out Gabriel one too many times. I couldn’t exactly kidnap him, but it had crossed my mind. It seemed like I had to wait until the virus hit critical mass here in the city before Connor or Gabriel would believe me. By then it was likely too late.

My neighborhood rolled back into view, gritty and familiar, bringing with it a wave of clarity. This outbreak, this whole messed-up situation, was bigger than my personal bullshit or the demons rattling around inside my head. Time to get smart. Gabriel, Amber, hell, everyone around me, deserved better than this half-assed chaos I'd been serving up.

Survival wasn't going to come down to brute force or whoever could throw the hardest punch. It'd be about who could think straight, keep their cool, and actually make a plan. As I parked and walked up to my apartment, the message sank in deep: If I was going to get through whatever madness was coming, it had to be with brains, not just guts.

Back in my apartment, I tossed my keys on the counter and flipped on the news. The screen lit up with images of chaos. New York was burning, Times Square choked with protesters and smoke billowing between buildings. Los Angeles looked like a war zone, police lines buckling under the weight of rioters. Chicago, Atlanta, everywhere was the same nightmare playing out on repeat.

The newscaster spoke calmly, but even he couldn't hide the disbelief creeping into his voice.

"In New York, Times Square is completely overrun. Fires continue to burn out of control across multiple city blocks. Los Angeles police are overwhelmed as rioters openly clash in the streets. Similar unrest is erupting right now in Chicago, Atlanta, and nearly every major city nationwide."

He then shifted to international news. "Turning to global events, Europe, Africa, and South America are witnessing similar unrest. Major cities are in turmoil as governments struggle to maintain order in the growing public dissatisfaction and fear."

The screen flashed scenes from London, Paris, Johannesburg, and São Paulo, each city echoing the same madness I'd just driven through in Philly.

The newscaster continued, his voice grim. "But in Asia and Australia, the situation is taking a darker turn. Infection rates are spiking across China, Korea, and Japan. Strict lockdowns are in effect, and reports of widespread outbreaks are trickling out, despite official attempts to control the narrative."

Footage appeared next, grainy and chaotic. People ran through packed Asian streets, panic clear even through the blurred camera lens. Barricades rose in a desperate rush to hold back the chaos.

"In Australia, things are spiraling fast. The Prime Minister has ordered a nationwide lockdown and mobilized the military to enforce quarantines. All international travel to and from Asia and Australia has been suspended indefinitely."

I slumped onto the couch, the remote slipping from my hand. Everything was unraveling way too fast. And there I was, neck-deep in my own mess. It hit me like a punch. If I was going to protect Gabriel, to have any shot at making it through this, I had to get smart. The world wasn't playing around anymore. Survival meant thinking ahead and outrunning the virus.

---

For six straight hours, I couldn't tear myself away from the TV, jumping between live feeds on YouTube and Twitch. Things in India and western Asia had gone completely off the rails. One livestream out of New Delhi burned itself permanently into my brain before YouTube pulled the plug. A woman, obviously infected, sprinted through the packed street with movements jerky and animal-like. Her skin was a sickening pale green, eyes wild, seeing nothing and everything at once. But her mouth haunted me the most, twisted into a snarl that showed off teeth sharper than they should be, ready to bite and tear. The video cut off suddenly as police opened fire, leaving me staring blankly at the screen with an empty, gnawing feeling deep in my gut.

Scrolling through Reddit, sifting through a nonstop avalanche of rumors, theories, and outright lies, I landed on a link to a private server. The post promised uncensored footage of an attack in New Zealand. Curiosity got the better of me. I clicked.

The video was shaky and raw, clearly filmed by someone trying hard not to panic. It showed a quiet suburban street in Wellington, suddenly turned into a nightmare. A group of infected ran after terrified locals, screams echoing off neat rows of houses. One infected man stood out. He was a hulking figure in shredded clothes, his face warped into something monstrous. He charged straight through a flimsy barricade the residents had thrown together. People scattered, knocked aside like bowling pins as his massive body crashed into them. The camera jerked wildly as whoever was filming stumbled back and turned to run. The footage cut to black.

I sat frozen, staring at the blank screen. This virus wasn't creeping along anymore. It was moving fast.

I kept flipping through channels on TV, different websites, and forms. There were too many stories to follow and not too much information to sift through. There were fake reports and fake photos. There was a lot of speculation on what caused the Zeta virus. Religious zealots were preaching apocalypse on all-day streams, live from their churches and temples. I heard one Baptist minister mention Revelations coming true.

I stumbled upon mentions of 'end of the world' parties. Even Becky from work, who I barely tolerated, sent an invite for a party tomorrow night. "We'll watch the news, have outbreak-themed cocktails and snacks, even do face painting to look like the infected!" her message read. I couldn't fathom the mindset, making a mockery of a situation that was spiraling into a fucking pandemic.

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of my daze. I glanced down to see a pile of missed calls and texts staring back at me. Work had blown up my phone, and I forgot to call out. Connor had left a string of voicemails too, each one sounding more stressed than the last. But the newest message grabbed my attention immediately. Amber.

"Just got back to the apartment. Can you help me with my luggage in the lobby?"

Her text had just landed a few minutes earlier. I quickly thumbed out a reply, "On my way," then headed downstairs without another thought.

---

By the time I lugged Amber's final suitcase into her apartment, sweat was running down my back. The stack of luggage was almost funny, nearly ten pieces piled up around us. She kept shooting me guilty looks, even though she was carrying just as much as I was. Amber was a dancer, and she had serious muscle. Her arms and legs were strong, easily managing the overstuffed bags she hauled two at a time.

"I'm really sorry, Sam," she said, sitting down the bags and shaking out her arms. "Cruise ship life means packing months of stuff at once."

"It's fine," I said, dropping an especially heavy suitcase on the floor.

Ten suitcases? Back in the army, we crammed everything we owned into one bag. Different world, I guess.

Amber leaned against the kitchen counter, pushing a strand of soft brown hair out of her eyes. "I don't get why everyone's losing their minds about this virus," she said after a moment. "My friends in Asia and Australia say they're locked in their houses. But people here act like it's just some big conspiracy."

I hesitated. The images I'd seen were still fresh in my mind. The chaos on the streets, the endless flood of news, and Dr. Cohen's research were spinning through my head. "Everything I've seen says it's real. This isn't just some media stunt. It's serious."

“Who is Dr. Cohen?” A teapot whistled, and she stepped over to the range and poured two cups of hot water with teabags in them.

“Sorry, I work for him at Jefferson. He’s an epidemiologist and has been studying this virus. He told me to be worried. I know you just got back to Philly, but you should see all the protests and looting going on. People are getting prepared for what comes next, and it’s not going to be pretty.”

Amber sighed, worry creeping into her deep green eyes. "That's just it, Sam. I’m honestly confused. Everyone's saying something different. Of course, it all sounds awful, but couldn't this just blow over?"

I got it. I'd spent days sorting through mountains of news, each bit contradicting the last. "Yeah, it’s possible," I said. The last thing I needed was Amber panicking. I'd already scared Gabriel enough for both of them. "A little hope never hurts."

She smiled and handed me a cup of tea. I wasn't exactly a tea guy, but Amber practically lived off the stuff. I took a sip. It tasted like hot water poured over twigs, but I smiled anyway.

Amber got to work unpacking, dragging the lighter suitcases across the room. Her place wasn't much bigger than a studio, but she'd made use of every inch. Large windows filled the room with soft sunlight, highlighting the neatly arranged furniture. The living space doubled as her bedroom, dominated by a modern sofa facing a modest entertainment center and a queen-sized bed pushed up against the far wall. The kitchenette sat tucked away in the corner, countertops crowded with colorful souvenirs from her endless travels. Photos of exotic locations and vibrant artwork covered the walls, surrounding a huge map dotted with pins marking every port she'd visited.

As she was moving another suitcase towards the designated pile, the latch gave way, and the case burst open, spilling its contents onto the floor. Among the scattered items were a few delicate, lacy pieces of underwear. Amber's cheeks flushed as she hastily tried to gather them up. I immediately turned my gaze towards the window, pretending to be deeply interested in the view outside. I wasn’t really interested in that view but an entirely different one.

Amber leaned against the counter, watching me with a crooked smile. "So, what are your plans for today?"

"I need to run by the sporting goods store." I nudged one of her bigger suitcases aside so I wouldn’t trip over it. "I gotta pick up some camping gear."

She let out a light laugh. "What, planning a little weekend getaway?" Her smile slipped when she caught the look on my face.

I kept moving her bags.

"You're not actually thinking about going camping right now, are you?"

"It's not for camping," I finally said. "With everything going on, it seems smart to be ready to leave the city if it comes to that."

Amber’s eyes searched mine, trying to make sense of what I’d just dropped on her.

"You're serious, aren't you? You’re actually thinking about leaving because of this outbreak?"

"Yeah, I am." I lifted another suitcase and set it by the couch. "It’s just a precaution. I’d rather have a plan than stand around waiting to get blindsided."

She nodded, slow, barely moving, then rubbed her arm like she was cold. Her eyes stayed on the floor a little too long before she looked up again.

"Can I...could I come with you to the store? I just...I don't want to be alone right now."

The question landed harder than I expected. My first instinct was to say no. The streets were a mess, people were jumpy, and I didn’t want Amber anywhere near it. Plus, I’d move faster on my own.

I opened my mouth, ready to shut it down, but then I caught the way she twisted her fingers together, the tension in her shoulders. "Yeah. Of course you can come," I said. I even found a way to smile.

---

Amber and I stepped out of the building into hard afternoon sunlight. I raised a hand to block it, blinking until my eyes adjusted after the dim lobby.

"The bus stop’s a couple blocks down," I said. I looked over at Amber. Her hair fell loose over her shoulders, catching the light in soft waves. She managed a small smile, but her eyes stayed fixed on the ground.

We started down the sidewalk, passing the usual neighborhood sights. There was a corner pharmacy with dusty windows, the laundromat’s peeling yellow awning, and kids playing basketball in the alley with a cracked backboard. It all looked so normal it almost pissed me off. Those kids had no idea what might be coming. I hoped, more than I wanted to admit, that I was dead wrong. In a month, I’d feel like a complete idiot for thinking a virus could tear the world apart.

We rounded the corner, and I slowed up when the bus stop came into view. The sidewalk was packed with fifty people crammed together.

"Maybe we should call a cab instead," Amber said, her voice low.

I gave a quick nod, though I didn’t like our chances there either. She glanced at me.

"You’re really quiet today. Everything okay? Beyond the obvious."

I let out a breath, not sure how to answer. "I’m fine. Just thinking. And yeah…worried. But I’m okay."

We made our way toward the bus stop, weaving through clusters of people pressed too close together. The air felt tight, like everyone was holding something back. Faces shifted quickly from person to person, eyes darting, shoulders tense. A few sharp voices cut through as two men argued over who stood where, and some woman were cursing about being shoved.

Amber slipped her hand into mine.

Closer to the shelter, everything snapped. A shout ripped through the low chatter. Two guys swung at each other with wild fists. They slammed into the bus shelter, sending an old woman sprawling off the bench. She hit the pavement hard and grabbed her hip with a sharp cry.

That was all it took. The crowd broke apart. There was more shouting, and bodies were bumping and twisting. A man a few steps away let out a choked yell, and I caught the quick flash of a knife pulled from his belt. Fights erupted all over the sidewalk, each one crashing into the next until the whole crowd turned into a tangle of fists and panic.

I’m not going to lie. I wanted to get involved. Watching those two guys fighting and hit that woman made me want to go over and shoot them both in the head. They deserved it. If I had more time on the clock, I’d plot both their murders. That wasn’t happening anytime soon. I had bigger flies to burn.

The crowd turned into a sea of bodies, all pushing and shoving. Some people tried to get a better look, while others tried to back away. I heard fists striking flesh and more screams breaking out across the sidewalk. Somewhere close by, glass shattered. Amber’s hand clamped around mine, her fingers cold and rigid.

I scanned the street, searching for any way out of this chaos. My eyes darted from storefront to alley, looking for space to move. I wanted no part of it. All I could think about was getting Amber and myself out of there before someone’s fear turned into something worse.

"This way, now!"

I pulled her down a side street to get clear of the crowd. We moved fast without looking back. The noise of the fight slipped behind us until it was just another echo in the city.

The street we found was narrow and cramped, lined with old row houses that carried years of grime and chipped paint. As we slowed down, I caught Amber brushing tears off her cheeks. Her breaths came quick and uneven, her shoulders rising and falling like she couldn’t catch a full one.

"That was scary," she said, her voice quivering.

Concern washed over me. "Do you want to go back to your apartment?"

She shook her head. "I'll be all right.”

Amber was tough, even with how rattled she looked. It hurt to see her like that, eyes red and shoulders tight, but there was still something solid in the way she stood. Most people would have fallen apart after what happened at the bus stop. Not her. She kept her chin up and met my eyes without flinching.

It still twisted something in my chest to watch her struggle. She was my friend. I wanted to give her something, even if it was just a hug. I reached out, but she stepped back a little, lifting her hands like she needed space.

"I really would love a hug right now," she said, hands on her hips as she paced near me. "I'm afraid it'll make me break down completely. Let's just get to the camping store and get you what you need."

Her stepping back caught me off guard. It stung for a second, but more than anything, I found myself respecting it. Amber was holding herself together. If I was being honest, there was something about her in that moment that pulled at me.

"Alright," I said. "Let’s keep moving."

My head spun with options as we walked. Public transit was out. There were too many people and too many nerves ready to snap. With everyone on edge, even finding a taxi felt like a long shot. The subway wasn’t even a question. If the bus stop turned into a riot, the El would be a war zone. I didn’t have a perfect plan, but turning back wasn’t one of the choices. I needed that gear if I was going to get Gabriel out when things got worse.

Two more blocks passed under our feet before I finally caught a break. A taxi dropped off a passenger right in front of an apartment building. I threw up a hand, hoping the driver wouldn’t pull away. He spotted us and gave a small nod. My shoulders dropped a notch, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Amber and I picked up the pace, hurrying to the curb before the driver could change his mind.

"Independence Outfitters on Columbus Avenue, please," I said as we climbed into the backseat. "And quick, if you can."

"You got it, buddy.” The driver pulled away from the curb, the vinyl seats squeaking beneath us.

I realized I was still tightly gripping Amber's hand. I let go awkwardly, folding my hands in my lap. We rode in silence for a minute before she spoke.

"Do you really think things are going to get even more out of control? The virus is going to hit the United States?" she asked. She whispered, I guess, so the driver couldn’t hear.

"Yeah, I do," I said. "My boss has been looking at data from the CDC. This thing is spreading fast. It’s what he does. He’s an epidemiologist. The last email he sent said he was heading off to work with the government and wouldn’t be in touch anymore."

Amber didn’t answer right away. She stared out the window as we drove past a school. A group of kids stood by the gate, laughing and shoving each other. I turned my eyes away. I didn’t want to think about what might happen to them once the virus showed up here.

"I don’t know," she said. "It still feels like the news is making it sound worse than it is. It’s hard to believe everything could fall apart that fast."

I chose my next words carefully, not wanting to scare her any more than necessary. "I understand. But it's better to prepare now, just in case. We'll get you set up with some supplies so you can hunker down."

“Wait, what are you doing? Are you staying…” She stopped herself in a moment of realization that flashed across her face. “The camping gear. You’re leaving the city?”

“I’m considering it. You know my brother, Gabriel? I want to take care of him. If things get bad in the city, I’m considering leaving with him.”

She nodded and looked ahead again. Her fingers picked at a loose thread on her jeans, twisting it around and around.

The taxi crawled through the clogged streets of Center City. I stared out the window, taking in a city that felt like it was about to snap. Philly’s usual energy was still there, but it seemed dulled, buried under something heavier. Fresh graffiti covered the buildings. One wall screamed "THIS SYSTEM FAILED US." Another was tagged with "STAY HOME OR DIE." Someone had sprayed a crude skull across the front of a closed deli, the eyes dripping red paint like blood. A lot of shop windows were already boarded up, as owners tried to stay one step ahead of looters.

Cops were everywhere. Patrol cars sat at busy intersections, officers standing by with their eyes on the crowds. It should have made things feel safer, but it didn’t. The city looked like it was holding itself together by a thread.

Virus or not, maybe getting out of Philly was the right move anyway.

As we got closer to the Delaware River, the traffic finally started to thin out. Columbus Avenue, usually crowded with people out for lunch or tourists snapping photos, looked almost empty. A few people moved along the sidewalks, heads down, walking fast like they had someplace important to be.

We didn’t say much after that. The silence stretched until the taxi pulled up in front of Independence Outfitters about ten minutes later. I handed the driver some bills, not bothering to count them, and stepped out onto the sidewalk with Amber right behind me.

The store loomed ahead, its windows plastered with bright posters showing tents, backpacks, and camp stoves. A handwritten sign taped to the glass shouted "RIFLE SALE" in thick black marker. It looked like it was slapped up in a hurry.

"Alright, let’s make this quick," I said. I pushed through the doors, eyes scanning everywhere. Amber stayed right behind me as we stepped into the huge, echoing space.

I’d hoped the place would still be stocked, maybe even quiet. It wasn’t. The store was packed with people. Shelves were already half-empty, and employees rushed back and forth, trying to keep up with questions they probably didn’t have answers for.

I grabbed a cart and started weaving through the aisles, scanning shelves, my mind locked on my list. I tossed in a small propane stove, a compact cook set, a water filter, and two sleeping bags. Boxes of energy bars and cans of soup went in next, followed by first aid kits and flashlights. My cart filled up fast.

I tried to pick things that were light and we could carry without too much trouble. But I also grabbed the small comforts I knew Gabriel would need. He’d never spent a night outside a city in his life.

When we cleared the camping section, I found myself in an aisle full of baseball gear. Bats, gloves, helmets were all useless to me.

"Amber, is there anything that you need—"

Amber wasn't beside me anymore. I glanced around, scanning the area and even backtracking to the last aisle. Where the hell did she go? For someone who was looking everywhere, I somehow lost one of the most important parts of this trip.

For the next few minutes, I moved through the aisles, looking for her. People shoved past me, bumped into my cart, and cut me off without so much as a look. How the hell had I lost her so fast? She was right there when we walked in, and then it was like she vanished.

I didn’t need this. I’d brought her along because she was scared back at the apartment, and now I was wasting time chasing her down. I could be grabbing more supplies, figuring out what else we’d need. Every second here was time I wasn’t spending getting ready.

I moved toward the right side of the store and heard her above the noise a few aisles over. Her voice was shaking and uneven. There was no time to drag the cart through the crowd, so I left it and pushed ahead, weaving around people and cutting through tight gaps.

When I turned the corner, I saw her. Amber stood backed against a shelf, eyes wide. A big man with a thick beard leaned over her, face red and twisted as he shouted. He must have had 150 pounds on her.

"You tried to take this right out of my hand, you little—"

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to," Amber said. Her voice shook. Behind her, shoppers with carts were packed side by side, blocking any way out.

I didn’t think. I stepped in and wedged myself between them. "Alright, let’s calm down."

The man stepped closer. His sour, hot breath hit me. "Stay out of this. This bitch tried to steal from me."

Did he really just call her that?

He towered over me and stood at least a few inches taller. His flannel shirt was rolled to the elbows, and tattoos of skulls and crossbones covered the visible parts of his arms. I wanted no part of this guy, especially in such close quarters. If he got his hands on me, or pulled a weapon, all the training in the world may not matter.

Still, I felt that strange calm that sometimes came over me. I wanted to hurt this man. He was bullying Amber, and I could tell by the thin smile that he was enjoying it. Amber was trying to apologize when I got there, and this guy was eating it up like pie on the Fourth of July.

"It was a misunderstanding. But you need to lower your voice and back off," I said.

"Who the fuck you think you are?" he shouted. He took a step towards me, and his spittle hit my face.

"It's no big deal," I said, taking a step back. In doing so, I accidentally bumped into Amber, feeling her slight tremble as she was pressed closely against my back. "Are we seriously arguing over a travel mug?"

He jabbed a thick finger into my chest. "Mind your own shit, tough guy. This bench needs to learn manners."

My jaw locked up. Everything in me was wound tight, ready to pop. But I couldn’t let it. I just needed to get Amber out and pay for the stuff in my cart. Maybe I could figure out this guy's truck in the parking lot (I was sure a guy like this had a pickup, probably with truck nuts and a gun rack).

"Come on," I said to Amber, my hand reaching back for hers. "We’re leaving."

The man lunged and grabbed a fistful of my shirt. I clamped both hands around his wrist and twisted hard. Something popped under my grip. His thumb bent the wrong way, and he let out a sharp yell. He stumbled forward, swinging wild with his other hand. I stepped in close to kill the punch and drove my heel into his knee. The joint buckled sideways, and he went down hard, howling as he hit the floor. His head was resting against the side of a shelf at a strange angle. All I needed to do was stomp his neck. I couldn’t do it with Amber here.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her with me, pushing through the crush of people until we got back to where I left the cart. Her hand shook in mine, but she didn’t slow down.

When we rounded the corner, I stopped dead. Someone was digging through the cart, pulling out the last flashlight. Everything else was gone.

I stood there for a second, trying to process it, scanning the store. There were even more people now, moving like a swarm. The shelves looked stripped bare.

"Fuck it," I muttered. I tightened my grip on Amber’s hand and headed straight for the exit.

The outside light cut through the dim store. We pushed through the doors and stepped into the parking lot. The doors swung shut behind us, cutting off the noise inside. I kept scanning the lot as we moved, looking for anyone who might be hanging around with bad intentions.

"You okay?" I asked.

Amber nodded, though her eyes were still wide. Tears pooled at the corners, but she held them back.

"Yeah. Thanks to you. That guy was nuts," she said, her voice shaky.

"Let’s get home."

"But the stuff you needed—"

"Forget it," I said. I managed a smile, hoping it would steady her. Inside, I was pissed. This was on me. I should have kept her close. Letting her wander off was stupid, and now I’d paid for it. Even if I dropped her off and came back, the store would be stripped clean. I lost focus, and it cost me.

---

Rolling back up to Amber’s apartment, I realized how little we’d said since leaving Independence Outfitters. The ride back was quiet. It felt like we had all the shit from today piled up between us. Amber unlocked her door and stepped inside.

I hovered at the threshold, one foot already turning away. "Night, Amber. Stay safe."

Her hand caught my wrist. "Sam, wait. Come inside for a minute, okay?" Her eyes stayed on mine a little too long, like she was trying to figure out if I’d bolt.

I hesitated. Part of me knew I should be out there figuring out my next move, making sure I was ready for whatever came next with Gabriel. But another part didn’t want to leave things off like this. I stepped inside.

Amber pointed to the couch, and we both sat.

She drew in a slow breath. "I need to say sorry. Back at the store, I wandered off to look for a couple things. I didn’t think it would turn into all that. I messed up your chance to get what you needed. I’m not usually this careless. It’s just...this virus, all the crazy shit going on, it’s got me rattled. I’m really sorry."

I brushed off her apology with a shake of my head. "It's fine, Amber. It's not on you. I'll sort it out."

But she wasn't having any of it. "Sam, cut the crap. Just say it like it is."

"What do you expect me to say?"

"I want you to get mad at me, to blame me!" she said and gave me a light shove. "Tell me I messed everything up, that I'm useless, and you're better off without me. Say—"

She stopped talking, and it got real quiet. Amber’s shoulders sank a little. She looked more thrown off than I’d ever seen her.

"Keep going," I said, my voice softer now.

“Say that I should leave you alone."

Her words nearly broke me. Sure, Amber was a curveball in my plans, a distraction, but abandoning her? That was off the table.

"That's one thing I'm never going to say."

Her smile lit up the room. "You had me worried," she said, her shove this time more playful. "I wouldn't have blamed you, you know, if you never wanted to see me again."

I was at a loss for words. The truth was, I liked Amber more than I probably should. She was a distraction, yeah, but in the best possible way.

"I want to help, Sam. I really am sorry for how things turned out," she said again.

Then she stepped in and wrapped her arms around me. I didn’t think twice about hugging her back. "Everything’s going to be okay," I said, though it sounded like I was trying to convince myself just as much as her.

Amber pulled back a little, her eyes on mine. Before I could figure out what she was about to do, she leaned in and kissed me. For a second, I just stood there, surprised, then I kissed her back. My chest tightened in that good way, heat rolling through me.

I’d wanted this for years, ever since we first met. Being neighbors all that time, stealing quick looks in the hall or talking on the steps, had been its own kind of slow torture.

Her mouth moved against mine, soft and hungry. We pulled each other close like we couldn’t get close enough. I loved the way she tasted, the way her body pressed into me, warm and real. I couldn’t get enough of her.

I kissed along her neck, and Amber held on tighter. "I want you, Sam," she said, her voice low and rough.

I pulled back for a second, caught off guard. We’d been friends for a year, but barely saw each other in person. Still, something about her felt close. Maybe it was all those phone calls and late-night texts when she was halfway across the world. She made me feel like I mattered, and I needed that more than I ever let on. Living alone, working long hours, and barely seeing Gabriel made me feel cut off from everyone. Every time I saw a message from Amber or picked up her call, it was like someone turned the lights back on.

Amber didn’t wait for me to say anything. She pulled off her top, showing a peach bra that barely covered her. Her chest and stomach were toned from all the dancing. I had to blink, not quite believing this was happening. She was gorgeous, but it was more than that. With her, I felt wanted, not just someone’s brother or some guy from work. She made me feel needed in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

She helped pull my shirt over my head, her hands moving over my chest and stomach. I leaned over her, and she eased back onto the couch, her hair spreading across the cushion. I looked down. Amber’s lips parted in a slow smile, her eyes wide and fixed on me. She bit her lower lip and pulled me closer, her breath warm against my skin. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, not that I had a ton of experience. That didn’t matter now.

I never pictured the day ending like this. Being with her made everything else fade out: the virus, the chaos, all of it. For a week, Zeta was the only thing on my mind. Now, for once, I let it all go.

I leaned in and kissed her again, letting myself get lost in the feel of her body pressed close. Nothing outside those walls mattered. It was just Amber, me, and the way we moved together on that couch, blocking out the world for a little while.

continue to chapter 5


More Creators