Ping - From the Apocalypse by Susan Lowry Page A

fast as you can Katie — that man is dangerous,” he urged.
    “I know what I'm doing Jon. I’m the one who’s still alive. It's my decision.”
    Jack was rapping on her door. “Kate?” She could see him peering through the crack at her. “Can I come in?”
    He didn't wait for an answer. He sat on the side of her bed and frowned. “Did you have a nightmare? I heard you screaming.”
    “I don’t remember. ”
    He pulled his legs up on the bed and lay back against the headboard. Then he gazed down into her eyes. “Do you mind if I lie down? I just want to be close to you for a while, nothing else.”
    “ No, I don’t.”
    He shuffled down, slipping his arm under her and pulling her close until her head rested on his shoulder. But neither of them had any words. She stared up at the ceiling with her thoughts whirling around. What kind of a life was waiting for them?
    Soon all of the manufactured food and bottled water would be toxic. They’d have to start over — anything similar to the civilization they’d known could never be recreated. All of that was lost. It was too much to fathom.
    S he felt comforted, but uneasy at the same time. They had been thrown together by catastrophe and if they couldn’t make it work, they’d be entirely alone. Enough of that. They both suddenly peered into each other’s eyes and sighed.
    The s oft ocean air puffed in through the window screen with the sound of it breathing in the distance. She drifted off to sleep in Jack’s arms.
     
    (May 2nd, Year One, PA)
     
    In the morning he was still beside her, asleep. She studied his straight nose, wide forehead, the dark stubble on his handsome jaw. He appeared agitated. His eyes twitched beneath their lids, long wisps of hair falling across his tensed brow. A vein pulsated beneath the skin on his hot, moist neck.
    Her gaze skimmed his tanned arms, broad shoulders, and his wide firm chest — nipples visible through a thin, black t-shirt. She was almost disappointed he hadn’t tried something last night.
    But she didn’t know him. He’d shared so little of his life with her — even when she’d not so subtly encouraged him to open up; their conversations were restricted to the present.
    I t would not be good to start anything yet. God, he was good looking though.
    She couldn’t possibly tell him about the boy and Ping. It seemed ridiculous to even consider it. Why would he believe such things? Not having had a single conversation with either of them since Jack’s arrival, she was back at square one again anyway, suspecting they were figments of her imagination.
    Usually, they would be thinking about each other at the same time when their minds linked. That hadn’t happened, but of course she’d been too busy with Jack.
    Now, while he was still sleeping, she tried to reach them. But just as there was a feeling of connection Jack inhaled a deep breath, opened his eyes and gazed over at her. The sensation floated away.
    His eyes seemed even gloomier when they were sleepy, but he made an honest attempt at being cheerful.
    “You’re awake,” he mumbled, stretching out his arms with a yawn.
    “Good morning, ” she said.
    He sat up on the edge of the bed. “Wait right there,” he said stumbling to his feet and out of the room. In a moment he came back handing her a box of orange juice. She sipped through the straw, watching Jack disappear with a bottle of water and a tube of toothpaste. She heard the backdoor and realized he had gone outside to brush his teeth.
    His face appeared from the other side of the window behind the cottage. “Are you up for a swim?” he said, through the screen.
    Kate followed him outside. “Jack, I need to talk to you about something .” She pulled on a light sweater over her bathing suit.
    H is vigorous brushing came to a halt, and the suspicious look in his eyes almost made her want to giggle. He spat, rinsed, spat again and wiped his entire face with a dampened cloth. “What?”
    “Do you