“Dinner and a movie,” he announced with pride.
Ainsley brightened at the thought of a film. “You don’t know what kind of movies I like,” she teased.
“Too bad,” he replied. “This part of the date is for everyone.”
Darla, Teddy, and Joey poured out of the house and Doctor Krause was quickly on their heels. Even Darla had a smile on her face. She clapped Ethan on the shoulder and gave him a little squeeze.
“Nicely done, kiddo,” she said. “Who would’ve thought, huh?”
The group arranged pillows and beanbags, and out from the shadows, Dean and Joey helped bring forward a couch. Together they helped Ethan move from his chair to the sofa, propping his leg up. Ainsley sat down below him. She put her arm up along the side, and Ethan slipped his hand into hers.
She tried to tug away, but he gripped firmer.
“Fake date,” she reminded him. But Ethan ignored her.
Dean stood before the blue screen and cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the Whispering Water’s neighborhood showing of Star Wars.”
Teddy jumped up and down, his face beaming with pure excitement. “Oh, it’s real! It’s real!” he said and then he rushed up to Ethan and wrapped his arms around his neck. “Thank you, Uncle Ethan. It’s all I’ve wanted for my whole life.”
Laughing, Ethan unhooked his hand from Ainsley’s and hugged the child back. “I know, Teddy. I picked it just for you.”
The boy beamed with excitement and went back to sit on Darla’s lap. “He picked it just for me,” Teddy whispered.
“Courtesy of our dear James Spencer…who opted out of this evening…but did wander back to Pacific Lake high school to raid the audio-visual equipment,” Dean continued. “We present for you. A movie.”
Everyone cheered.
“I’m here,” a voice called from the back and Spencer ambled over, sitting down with his back against the couch, next to Ainsley. Everyone paused and looked at him and he shrugged. “Come on, I’m not going to turn down a movie.”
Dean hit the play button and the movie began. The familiar music blasted from a set of six-inch speakers.
The opening gave Ethan chills and he motioned for Ainsley to sit up beside him on the couch. She shook her head. He pleaded with his eyes and she relented, snuggling up between Ethan and the arm of the couch; he rested his head against her shoulder, leaning back into her body.
“You did good,” she whispered to him.
“It seemed so unfair for the kid to never watch it.”
“Not just that,” Ainsley said. “The whole night. Thank you. It was a good fake date. You care about us. Really, I mean it. Thank you.”
With his eyes on the screen, Ethan sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t so fake.”
“The truth,” Ainsley replied ominously. “All a ploy to watch a movie. I get it. You could have just asked. Spencer would’ve gone back to the school to get a projector if you had traded him something of value.”
“Wouldn’t bet on it,” Spencer interjected and Ainsley waved him away. “I’m not always in such a generous mood.”
“Private conversation,” she replied.
Ethan shook his head and his hair rubbed against her shoulder. Then he shifted and looked at her. The light of the projector illuminated her eyes—he could almost see the entire movie playing as a reflection. “I’m scared,” he whispered.
She turned to him. Her lower lip in a pout. She brought her hand up and patted his head in a sisterly way. “We’ll take care of you,” she replied. “My mom’s a good doctor…”
“No,” Ethan replied. His eyes were drawn to the movie for a moment and then he looked back up at Ainsley. “I’m scared I’ll never get a chance to really live. To get married. To have kids. To have a future. I don’t care if the world is gone…if we’re the only ones left. It’s not selfish to still want something good—”
He wondered if this is what Grant felt like the night he spent at their house. Feeling, for the first time, like there were things he’d never get to do. It was emotionally draining and he knew he wasn’t handling it well.
“Oh, please, Ethan—”
“I’m serious.”
She shifted and lowered her voice, shooting looks out at the other survivors, who seemed to be enthralled with the film. “Please stop trying to make everything out to be something bigger. The best way to get back to normalcy is to stop comparing what we don’t have anymore. Please. I’m begging you.”
“You can feel it, then,” he replied. “You’re scared too.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She made a move to leave, but he put his hand out and grabbed her knee.
“Ainsley—”
“No,” she whisper-yelled. “Stop, please.” Joey turned and looked at them, but then quickly turned back to the movie. She rolled her eyes.
“I could fall in—”
“You’re feverish.”
“And you’re not listening.”
Darla shot them a glare. “Hush up, kids.”
He rested his head against her shoulder; she seemed tense and rigid. Then he reached up and tried to grab her hand, but Ainsley pulled back. She leaned down and put her lips next to his ear. “Please, Ethan. I’m sorry. I’ve already loved too many people who aren’t around anymore. Don’t make this harder on—”
“You?” he whispered. Then he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed it gently. She made a soft sound of protest, but didn’t pull her hand away. “It’s okay. I understand. Just hold my hand…be my fake girlfriend. Just for tonight and then I won’t ever say anything about it ever again.”
“Perfect,” Ainsley whispered and she gave his hand a squeeze.
They settled in together in the darkened yard, the story of love and loss and good and evil playing out before them, blanketing their features with whites and blues. Teddy sat wide-eyed and Darla held him close; everyone cheered and booed and celebrated together—bonding over something that they would have taken for granted a month ago.
Ethan closed his eyes and felt the fever envelope his body, numb his brain, send him spinning, but he didn’t let go of Ainsley’s hand.
For a brief moment, the Oregon survivors pretended everything was normal. They could not see or understand the dangers and tragedy lurking just around the bend.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Maxine was a shriveled mess. Her nose was red from crying, her eyes bloodshot. She looked from Lucy to Scott with her mouth open in shock, a crumpled tissue in her hand. It was morning and Lucy hadn’t slept—from the looks of everyone else in the room, no one in their small underground apartment had much sleep. Upon waking, her parents had called an obligatory family meeting. Galen collapsed with a grumpy yawn on the floor; the twins sat beside him, and Harper had tried to crawl into Lucy’s lap, but Maxine called her away.
Lucy secretly wondered if Cass was on the other side of their bedroom walls with her ear pressed to the sheetrock, attempting to eke out all the details of her failure.
The guard sold her out. Scared into submission after Blair’s original antics, he told Huck, who sent a note to her father.
She hadn’t stood a chance.
All her plans for saving Grant seemed to slip right out through her fingers. But while hysteria was building beneath the surface, Lucy stayed outwardly calm. She sat on the floor in the middle of the room and watched her mother cry her way through a lecture.
“And the mangoes, Lucy. For a dog?”
An attempt to lie about the mangoes unraveled when Galen inadvertently mentioned that the mechanic Kip was pedaling the fruit in the Center later that afternoon.