Dating After the End of the World - 34

I awake in my bedroom, and it feels emptier than it should, the air taking on a thinness that only comes when you’re truly alone. Rolling over, I notice Blake’s bed is made, with his navy rucksack stuffed full and closed up, sinking his mattress slightly. He really meant what he said. He’s actually leaving.

I peel myself from my sheets and walk over to the packed-up piece of luggage, if you can call it that. I prod and poke at it, hoping that it’s nothing but air, a prank he has schemed that will end with the bag deflating and him jumping out from somewhere yelling, Gotcha! But the heavy lump barely moves, the tightly packed clothes and miscellaneous objects having no room for play within their canvas prison.

A sense of sadness and dread continues to swell inside me, filling my chest even more than the overstuffed object. I made the decision, though, so I can only blame myself for how I’m feeling. I chose Nate over Blake. Two years of history with my existing fiancé, the man who came back for me in spite of my ditching him, or one night of lust with the man I hated for more than a decade, who’s leaving me the first time things don’t go his way. Nate is the safe choice, the easy one, the right one. But if he is, then why does it hurt so much? I guess that’s life. Sometimes it just hurts.

My bedroom door creaks open, and I spin around, a smile already on my face, anticipating it’s Blake, coming to tell me that he’s changed his mind, that he’ll stay. But no. It’s not him. It’s Nate. My smile fades but not all the way, because I don’t let it. He’s the one I chose when the world was whole, so he’s the one I’ll stay with through the end of it.

“Hey,” I say, trying to make my voice sound light and airy.

“Morning, babe.” He smiles. “Wanna come take a walk with me? I have an errand I need to run.”

“An errand?”

“To my car. I left it parked about a mile up the road. I didn’t know what kind of reception I would receive when I arrived. Hell, I didn’t even know if you would be here or if I had the right address. So I left it hidden off the side of the road in case I needed to make a quick exit.” He steps forward, still smiling as he draws me into him, his hands wrapping around my waist. “But now that I’m here to stay, I figured I should go and get it. Plus, I’ve got some supplies in the trunk, mostly nonperishable foods, toiletries, and extra clothes.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say with a nod. “Just let me get dressed quick.”

“Perfect,” he purrs, before kissing me on the lips.

Nate and I head down the driveway, walking side by side. I haven’t seen Blake yet, but I want to, and I can’t help desperately searching for him. Nate doesn’t seem to notice as he occasionally glances over at me, offering tight smiles. Or maybe he does notice. Maybe he realizes something’s off, but he just can’t pinpoint it.

Finally, I spot Blake, deep in a hug with my father over in the clearing to the right of the property. The fabric of their shirts wrinkling under the pressure of their hands as they pull each other so tight, it looks like they might morph into one. After what feels like too long, they release one another, their faces flushed red as tears well up in their eyes.

I can’t believe it. He’s actually leaving. My heart aches, and I hate him for doing this to me, to my dad, to all of us. It’s all so stupid and petty. Where would Blake even go? For someone who’s so pragmatic about survival, this is a foolish decision, made from emotion rather than reason. He’s risking his own life because he can’t stand to see me with Nate.

But I bet he’s not telling my dad or anyone else that. I wonder what story he’s giving them. I rubberneck, watching Blake for as long as I can until we pass by. He doesn’t seem to notice, and I glance back once just to be sure, but he doesn’t even look at me.

At the front gate, Nate pulls a key from his back pocket and inserts it into the padlock holding the chain in place. He removes it, letting it slink to the ground, before repocketing the key.

“Where did you get that?” I ask, pointing to his pocket.

“Oh, I told one of the older ladies in the kitchen that I needed to pull my car in, and they gave me this key.”

I nod silently as Nate forces open the gate just wide enough for us to pass through.

“Ladies first.” He bows and gestures to the open road beyond the dirt path.

Outside the property, I find myself staring at the county highway that seemingly goes on forever in both directions. The sun peeks out from a couple of fluffy clouds in the sky, and birds flutter above, chirping and squeaking. Way out here, it doesn’t even look like the world ended. The chain rattles against the gate, pulling me from my thoughts. I turn around, watching Nate fiddle with the lock and then Dad and Blake. They part ways, walking in opposite directions, their heads slightly tilted down.

“Casey? Are you all right?” Nate asks.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“This way,” he says, turning left.

I nod and follow, in step with him.

The highway is empty for the entire walk. Not a single biter or creature of any kind in sight. The black asphalt is starting to crack, and the shoulder is becoming overgrown with vegetation as small vines and grass work their way across the road, plotting to meet up with their brethren on the other side. I can imagine years from now, after many Wisconsin winters have expanded the cracks in the highway with the freezing and expanding of water, the flora and fauna will take this all back, and a path of green will replace this intruding line that nature never welcomed in the first place.

“Here it is!” Nate excitedly calls out as he runs to his car.

“That’s your hiding place?” I laugh.

Nate’s Porsche is barely off the shoulder of the highway. A single loose branch is leaned up against the tires on one side.

“Well, yeah. I mean, what did you want me to do? Pull it off into the woods, cover it in branches and leaves? It would ruin the paint job.”

“Not sure that matters anymore,” I say, rolling my eyes.

Nate pulls the single branch away and hops in the car, firing up the engine. He rolls down his window and says, “Hop on in,” patting the front passenger seat with his hand.

I sink down into the low-profile vehicle and fasten my seat belt.

“Ready?” Nate slips on a pair of Gucci aviators and gives me a cheesy smile.

Before I can say anything, he pulls out and makes a U-turn. He revs the engine, and the tires squeal as he quickly accelerates. It jolts me back in my seat, making my stomach feel like it dropped and I lost it back on the road.

“Where are you going? Did you already get turned around, city boy? The house is back that way.” I chuckle, pointing my thumb over my shoulder and waiting for him to stop abruptly to correct his mistake.

“I know,” is all he says, staring straight ahead at the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel.

“What? Then where are you going?” My tone is a mixture of confusion and panic.

Nate has no idea what’s around this area, so where else could he be driving us to?

“We’re leaving.”

My eyes search his profile, looking for any sign that he’s just messing with me, trying to pull my leg before he brings the car to a stop, but there is none. He just continues staring forward, looking like a man on a mission.

“Nate, turn the car around.” My tone is calm yet firm.

He ignores me, revving the engine as he increases the car’s speed even more, the trees flying by in a blur of green along the sides of the road.

“Nate! Turn the fucking car around right now!” I slam my hands into the dashboard, popping open the glove box.

“No, Casey! There’s nothing to go back to.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I had to make a deal.”

My heart drops into the pit of my stomach, splashing acid all around as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

“What did you do?”

“They were going to kill me. I had no choice.”

“What did you fucking do!?” I scream, causing Nate to recoil into himself.

“They were gonna kill me, Casey. So I made a deal. I told them about your father’s compound, that they’d be safe, and they’d have supplies for years. They said if I showed them where it was and I helped them get inside, then they’d let me and you go.”

“You did what?” I’m seeing red right now, and my breaths come out fast and hard. I can’t believe him. I can’t fucking believe him. I should have known something was off just by the fact that Nate showed up with all his limbs still intact. He’s not cut out for an apocalypse, so of course he made a fucking deal to save his own ass.

“It was the only way. Did you not hear me? They were going to kill me!”

“Where are they?”

“Where are who?” he asks.

“You know who! The fucking burners! The ones you made a goddamn deal with. Where are they?” I slap at Nate’s arms, wanting to take my rage out on him in ways he could never imagine.

“They’re probably heading into the compound as we speak.” His voice is soft, delivering the death blow as calmly as he can.

“Stop the car, Right Now !”

“No! We aren’t going back.” The knuckles on his hands are white from how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel.

“Yes, we are.”

I lunge across the center console and grab the steering wheel, trying to turn it hard to the left. Nate steadies it, bringing the car back under control after it drifts briefly in the road. He screams at me to stop, but I don’t. I grab for it again, but this time he throws a hard, sharp elbow directly into my eye.

“Knock it off, Casey! You’re gonna kill us both,” he yells.

My head slams into the window as I’m sent reeling back from the blow. Searing pain shoots up into my skull and travels down my spine. A massive headache instantly roars its way into existence, clouding my vision.

Nate snaps his head back and forth, looking over at me while still keeping his eyes on the road. I’m not sure whether he’s checking on me out of concern or checking to make sure I won’t attack him.

“You motherfucker!” I lunge across the center console again, but this time not at the steering wheel—at Nate. My fingers are outstretched and curled, like a pair of talons ready to lay waste to the skin on his face. I claw and scratch at his cheek, ear, and eyes, trying to distract him from his driving.

“Ack! Casey! Stop it! I can’t see!”

His reflexes kick in, and he lets go of the wheel, grabbing at my hands to try to stop me. But I’ve already abandoned his face and quickly grip the now-free steering wheel, whipping it hard to the left. The tires let out a violent squeal, burned rubber instantly filling the cabin with a rotten stench. We shoot across the road like a rocket, onto the shoulder and into the grass. Nate slams on the brakes but it’s too late. The tires lock up on the soft soil, careening us toward a mighty oak tree, the Porsche no longer in anyone’s control. The sounds of metal crunching and glass shattering are the last things I remember before everything goes black.