Gray (Book 3) by Lou Cadle

chair. “Do you mind if I sit?”
    “I’m sorry,” said Doug. “Yes, sit. I’ll grab the chair from the office for myself.”
    “Where are you from?” said Abigail.
    Coral was feeling dizzy at the absolute middle-America sort of normalcy in this scene. It was wrong . Except for the fact there was no music playing, or tray of tea and cookies, it was like something from another century. It made her want to scream. Or laugh.
    “Michigan,” said Benjamin.
    What?
    “That’s where we were last,” said Benjamin. “Coral was in school.”
    Then Coral caught up. If they were married, they couldn’t have been living in different states. She hadn’t thought her lie through enough.
    Benjamin seemed to have it under better control. “But I’m from Idaho. We were here when it happened.”
    Coral would have to remember not to talk about the past. She’d be sure to screw something up, and her lies would be revealed. The best thing to do would be not to talk at all, to deflect personal questions.
    Abigail went on chatting and drawing out Benjamin, while Coral looked on and tried to memorize whatever tales he was weaving. When Benjamin mentioned Coral was a doctor in training, Abigail perked up.
    “We don’t have a doctor.”
    Coral said, “I guess that’s why we were let in.”
    “Oh, no,” said Abigail. “We’d be happy to welcome more people. There just …” She gave a helpless shrug as she trailed off.
    Doug spoke up. “We haven’t found anyone—or anyone sane and safe—since we’ve being doing recon out there.”
    Coral said, “So you found other people?”
    “People?” said Doug, with a snort. “People would be an optimistic term for it.” He waved away the topic, or maybe the memory itself.
    So they weren’t as naive as all that.
    Abigail said, “Do we have melted water, hon?”
    “I haven’t checked.”
    The woman went into the kitchen. Benjamin glanced at Coral, his expression unreadable to her. He seemed different here. The surroundings made him even look different, too. He was out of his element even more than she was.
    Abigail came back shaking her head. “Sorry. All frozen up.”
    “So anyway,” said Doug. “I wanted to introduce you. They’ll be staying here tonight,” he said, a hint of a question in his voice.
    “Terrific,” said Abigail. “I’ll be glad of the company.”
    “I want to take them over to the kitchen, let them bathe,” Doug said.
    Coral felt suddenly self-conscious, aware of her disheveled and filthy appearance.
    Doug said, “Can you come along to check the central stores for clothes for them both? See if there are shoes for Coral, too.”
    “Sure,” Abigail said. “Happy to help.” She put her scarf and gloves back on. “Ready?”
    “Yes, sure,” said Coral. She stood, and the men did too. She let herself be led off to the next thing, feeling like a puppy on a leash.

Chapter 9
     
    Abigail split off after a few minutes to find them new clothes. Doug led them to another brick building, with more tour-guide explanations. “This is a first-year dorm. We had to recreate the kitchen in the basement because they took that all out some years ago in favor of central eateries. None of those survived, though, so we reverted to this. There’s always at least one stove going in the daytime, and it stays pretty warm. The suites in this building are big, like four to eight bedrooms, and every one is full because the kitchen heat drifts up.”
    The windows on the upper levels were covered by metal shutters. It probably helped to keep the heat. It’d be nearly as dark as a cave in those suites.
    Not so normal a town after all.
    Doug introduced them to a few people standing outside the door, whose names Coral promptly forgot. He led them inside and down stairs to a hallway lit with a lamp.
    Doug pushed a door open and there was the kitchen. She passed a row of wood stoves of every design, their top surfaces loaded with pots, and with each one she passed, a new