After a moment, he touched the unblemished area that she had cut open earlier. «It must be the nanotech.»
«Do you think it’s still active?» She studied her skin. There were no blinking blue lights there anymore.
«No, we killed its brain.» He held up the capsule. It was just an unlit silver tablet now with a dead silver wire trailing off it.
«Then what’s controlling the ones still inside me?» A bubble of panic expanded in the back of her throat.
«I think you are.» His frown faded with realization. «That’s why you healed.»
A block of ice bounced off the window so loudly that she was surprised the glass didn’t break. «I guess it’s time we found out. We can’t stay here.»
He nodded, taking her hand and pulling her up until she was standing. «Let’s go.»
This time she let him pull her toward the door. As she neared it, she felt butterflies in her stomach.
What if it didn’t work?
Gritting her teeth, she headed for the door. It had to work. It was her only chance.
She stepped through the doorway, breathing a sigh as she made it into the corridor in one piece.
After glancing back to ensure she was okay, he pulled her down the hall to the stairs.
Both running at full speed, they bounded down the staircase and burst through the front doors of the apartment building, onto the snow–covered street outside.
The area was deserted. Looking across the city, she realized it was also deserted. Judging by the frosty exterior of the skyscrapers in the distance, they didn’t have much time. She stared in awe as the massive chimney from the power plant cracked and fell sideways, the last of its gray fog expelling out of it like a final breath.
«The world we knew is over,” she said as the artificial lights around them flickered before exstinguishing.
His warm hand wrapped around hers in a secure grip. «Maybe the next world will be a better one. It’s a new beginning.»
She turned to smile at him, seeing his dusky profile under the soft glow of the moon. «Then we better survive so we can see it,” she said as she pulled him toward her car, heading for her new beginning, and leaving the past behind her.
A prolific writer with wide–ranging interests, Claire Chilton specializes in new adult fiction and speculative fiction, which includes genres such as science fiction, fantasy, horror, comedy and romance. Hustle, her Harlequin debut, won the publisher's So You Think You Can Write contest on Wattpad. Her previous books include a humorous young adult science–fiction series called The Squishies Series and a paranormal comedy series, The Demon Diaries.
DeanCMoore Time Out
The deer looked up from licking the mud at the sudden blur of movement. The jackal was nearly at her now, coming straight on across the parched field. The doe’s entire being was telling it to flee. But it held its ground. Nowhere to hide really. It had made the mistake of straying too far into the open. Not like it had had any choice. The parched, cracked soil beneath its feet could barely support this one recessed bit of water.
The wolf pounced, confident in the outcome that was never to be.
The deer yawned, exposing its fangs, and with an effortless flick of its neck dispatched the coyote. Its dupe’s one yelp swallowed up by the endless barren landscape as readily as the rain. The gray and black coated predator’s windpipe had been crushed and its head half–severed.
Peter popped his head up from his camouflaged outpost, barely ten yards from the deer. He’d dug a trench for himself shaped like a wine barrel, making sure to keep the «lid of the barrel,” the circular patch of mud hardened to cement–like consistency, above his head. And his stink in. That wolf didn’t need any pointers on what was going on; let him think he had it all figured out.
Climbing out of his earthen casket, Peter raised his fists to the sky in an outcry of joy. «So you think you’re smarter than me, do you, little doggie? Quel surprise.»
He pet his deer, «You’re quite the con artist, pal. Couldn’t have done it without you.» Unsheathing the Bowie knife strapped to his leg, Peter commenced skinning the wolf.
«Careful,” the deer said. «I need to lap its blood. Tired getting my salt ration out of clay. Besides, I’m nearly as parched as this desert.»
After peeling back the hide, Peter obligingly leaned back so the deer could drink its fill. One thing about these codependent relationships, they didn’t exactly hinge on loyalty so much as mutual benefit. Wouldn’t do any good to make the deer resentful by making him wait until Peter had had his share.
Finished drinking, the doe craned her head toward the sun. «Curse this heat.»
«Don’t you start. It’s not a desert, and you know it. I’m not so foolish as to steer us into a real wasteland. Just part of the con. I only hope you can remember where we put the holographic projector, or we’ll be stuck here for real, the foils of our own trap to draw him out.»
The deer took a step back so Peter could do his work. «I suppose you’re going to make me carry those strips of meat once the sun has had its way with them.»
«We’re hardly going to wait for them to dry out.»
«Lovely. Even more weight to haul.»
«You never stop angling for a better deal, do you? I swear, as plotting and scheming as you are, you’d think you were the trap setter.» Lucky for him the deer wasn’t quite that high functioning. And her lack of hands and opposable thumbs put her at a distinct disadvantage come time to refurbish any pre End Times tech they stumbled upon. He may be the last person remaining alive on this Godforsaken world, but that just made everything not entirely consumed by the holocaust part of his bounty.
Maybe bounty wasn’t quite the right word. The animals were getting harder to find, predator and prey alike. He’d be a vegetarian soon at this rate. Providing he could find some device that could make anything growing digestible to him. Most of the more edible plants were long gone too. If he could learn to eat bark, that could buy him some time.
A few hours later, he’d salvaged as much of that coyote as he could. The animal’s blood and stink was all over him, making him gag. His drying skin felt stretched in places, crimped in others. «Some more blood for you to lick off,” he said to the deer, standing and glancing down at himself. «No rush. Can’t hurt to have a predator’s funk all over me.»
The two of them meandered to the edge of the «endless» desert, another hundred yards or so away. At least he thought that’s where he’d stashed the holo projector. The damn thing was so good at concealing itself, he was already down on his hands feeling around for it, overturning every rock and cracked piece of mud.
«For a plotter and a schemer, you’d think you’d have figured out a less trying way of crawling out of your own delusions,” the deer said.
«Yeah, what’s with that, I wonder?» There. He’d found it. He picked up the nearly perfectly round piece of red clay, and squeezed.
The desert disappeared and in its place was the world he’d left behind. Not too much more enticing, all things considered. The high chaparral country was nearly as dry and as lonely looking. The half dead shrubs and squat trees mostly rubbed him the wrong way whenever he brushed up against them. Got rid of the dead skin cells real good though, which cut down on the need for bathing. Mindful of the painful grooming in store for him, he sucked in a deep breath and took his first step forward.
«I guess we’re heading towards the Airstream,” the doe said, absently overturning a rock with a front hoof. «Whose idea was it to stick a mobile home on a piece of land that makes it visible in all directions for hundreds of miles?»
«Maybe eyesores were all the rage once upon a time. And nah, definitely not headed towards the mobile home. The other way.»
«We keep going that way, we’ll be in real desert soon enough.»