Chapter 13

Here, where the world is quiet;

Here, where all trouble seems

Dead winds' in the spent waves' riot

In doubtful dreams of dreams.

"The Garden of Proserpine"

by Charles Algernon Swinburne

Caroline watched out the window of the SUV as Lincoln drove them into an outdoor shopping mall complex. There were dozens of abandoned cars and storefronts with broken windows, but this one didn't look as savaged as other parts of Omaha.

"Strip malls are usually better for supplies. People forget them because they're farther out," Lincoln said as he parked the car amid the abandoned vehicles.

"Why park here?" she asked.

"I don't want anyone passing by to notice us. We want people to think this is just one of the abandoned cars out here," he explained and held out her backpack. She slung it around her shoulders and zipped her coat. He put his own bag on. They'd both agreed not to leave their packs in the car unless they were in the car with them. If they had to leave the vehicle, they needed their gear.

"I'm going to test a few car batteries nearby and scavenge what I can. I'll also collect any extra fuel these cars might have. You go into that sporting goods store and collect what you can on this list." He handed her a list of items on a piece of notebook paper.

She nodded and headed across the parking lot for the sporting goods store. Caroline kept a careful eye out for movement. When she reached the entrance, she carefully climbed through the broken glass doorway, her boots sliding and crunching on the shards, but she kept her balance. The interior of the store was dimly lit from the skylights three stories up. Her skin crawled as she worked her way through the overturned display stands. Exercise clothes and pale, naked mannequins littered the aisles. Caroline squinted at the list.

"Hand warmers, space blanket, batteries" She navigated her way back to the camping section of the store and used the small flashlight Lincoln had given her to locate what she needed. She shoved them into the big gear bag Lincoln had given her and looked at the next part of her list.

"Rope, carabineers, and wool socks." She meandered down more aisles and grabbed a spare pair of wool gloves for her and Lincoln and a pair of wool caps. Hers was a cable knit hat with the poufy faux fur ball on top, and his was a dark gray one lined with fleece. She finished packing the items into her bag and turned to search the aisles for anything else that might be useful, but then someone moved behind her. She froze.

"Hands up, turn around. Slowly," the hard voice demanded. Heart pounding, she fought off a wave of terror and set her pack down and raised her hands in the air as she turned around.

A man in his midfifties had a shotgun aimed at her. His hard blue eyes were cold.

"Please, I just need some supplies"

The man stared at her without speaking, and she waited for him to shoot her.

"You alone?" he asked.

Caroline wondered how she should answerlie to give Lincoln the advantage, or tell the truth in the hopes it would make him think twice about doing anything to her.

"Not alone, then," the man muttered to himself when she took too long to answer. "Pick up your bag, but no sudden moves."

She bent, grasped the straps of her bag, and slowly straightened. He clicked on a flashlight, shining it brightly in her face. She winced and half shut her eyes to block out the blinding beam of light.

"Where are the others with you?" the man demanded.

"Here," Lincoln said behind him.

The man whirled, and he grunted as Lincoln slammed a fist into his solar plexus. "Fuck!" The man doubled over and fell to his knees. Caroline, rooted in place, watched as Lincoln raised a gun to the man's head.

"Wait!" she gasped, at last finding her voice. She rushed to stand behind the stranger and looked at Lincoln. "He didn't hurt me."

Lincoln didn't look at her, his face a mask of hard lines. She couldn't be sure what he was planning to do, but she feared the worst.

"Please, Lincoln." The man who'd danced with her last night was tender, merciful. But right now she didn't know this man, didn't want to know him.

"You alone?" Lincoln asked, echoing the man's question.

"Yes."

Lincoln cocked the hammer. "That's a lie."

"My wife, Joanie, she's in the back. Please, don't hurt her." The man's voice dropped to a broken whisper, and his head lowered in defeat.

"We won't," Caroline said more loudly and reached out, pushing Lincoln's hand with the gun down to point to the floor. "Right, Lincoln?" She tugged on his sleeve, and he looked her way at last.

"We'll see." Lincoln nodded for the man to get to his feet. He turned to Caroline and saw the look on her face, and for a moment, where there had been deadly focus, she saw hesitation and doubt. He turned back to the man, a hint of a relaxed smile on his lips. "You'd make an awful Walmart greeter."

"These are different times, son. Not easy to know who to trust."

"But it has to start somewhere," said Caroline. "This is Lincoln, and I'm Caroline."

The man smiled hesitantly. "I'm Glenn."

"Nice to meet you, Glenn."

The man took a deep breath. "Sorry I scared you. My wife and I have been here for a few weeks now. I thought we were finally safe, but then I saw your car pull in and got worried. Bands of men have been roving around, some shooting people, others taking whatever they wanted." He shuddered. "Last month, I saw a group of them execute a kid. A kid. They threw his body in a ditch. He couldn't have been more than ten." Glenn's voice grew rough with emotion. "I didn't want folks like that finding us."

"And I'm sure Caroline here just struck terror into your heart," Lincoln growled, holstering his pistol.

"We can't be too careful," said Glenn. "Mean comes in all shapes and sizes."

"We're doing the same, avoiding people like that," Caroline reassured him.

"Let me introduce you to Joanie. She would love to have someone to talk to."

Glenn used his flashlight to guide them to the back of the store where a sort of small town had been built up using shelves. Inside were a couple of tents and quite a bit of stockpiled food.

"Joanie, we've got guests," Glenn called out. A woman emerged from the tent nearest them, a gun raised as she assessed the situation.

"Joanie, hon, we're fine. Put that away."

Joanie slipped a hand through her long black curls, eyeing them carefully before she set the gun down on top of the cooler beside her tent.

"This is Caroline and Lincoln." Glenn nodded at them.

Caroline smiled at Joanie, and to her relief the woman smiled back.

"Sorry, can't be too careful these days."

"I get it. I was robbed of everything not long back. It's hard to know who to trust." Caroline glanced at Lincoln. He was standing silent and serious, his hand close to his hip where he could reach his pistol.

"You two are welcome to stay here for dinner, if you like," Glenn offered.

"We can't stay the night," Lincoln said. "Got a lot of miles to cover."

"How about lunch?" Caroline suggested. He answered with the barest hint of a nod.

"Lunch it is." Joanie waved to Caroline. "Want to help?"

"Sure." Caroline followed her toward the back of the couple's small indoor camp, where they started sorting out canned vegetables. Lincoln stayed with Glenn, but she could still feel his eyes on her.

"Glenn said you guys have been here for a few weeks?"

"Yep." Joanie handed her a can of creamed corn. "We came here from Blair. We thought a big city would have more supplies, but we soon learned we were better off on the outskirts. What about you?"

"Chicago. I'm from Missouri originally, though."

"And Lincoln? Where's he from?" Joanie asked.

"He iswell, North Carolina is where his family is, but he's sort of from all over the place. He was coming back from Turkey when Hydra struck. He's"

"A soldier?" Joanie offered.

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Not many men can sneak up on my husband. He's a hell of a hunter. Stalks bucks for days like a ghost."

"How did you know Lincoln snuck up on him?"

"Because Glenn wouldn't have brought you back here unless he felt he had to," Joanie said more quietly. "We both know about the roving gangs. He wouldn't put me at risk like that, which means your man caught him off guard. But he seems to trust you right now, so I'll do the same."

"Thank you," Caroline whispered, unable to stop thinking about how Joanie had called Lincoln her man. "It's so nice to see someone after all this time. Well, someone normal. I only met Lincoln a few days ago. Before that" She trailed off.

Joanie patted her hand. "Lonely. I know. Even with Glenn, I still feel alone. We all do." Joanie collected some plates, and they settled down by a gas-powered stove. Joanie and Caroline open the creamed corn and poured it into the pot. Caroline sought out Lincoln in the small space Glenn and Joanie had created. He was standing beside Glenn. Their guns were out but set on the table as the two seemed to be comparing weapons. Glenn said something, and Lincoln suddenly laughed. The sound made her heart flutter wildly as she watched him, seeing him again as the man she'd danced with last night. There was something about that beard and those muscles and the intensityshe just couldn't help but get lost in fantasies.

Joanie nudged Caroline in the ribs. "Only a few days, you said?"

"Hmm?" She turned back to Joanie, not understanding the woman's question.

"You said you've only known Lincoln a few days?"

"Yeah."

Joanie's eyes twinkled, and she brushed her curly hair back.

"You've got it bad, hon."

"Got what bad?"

"For that man. It's all over your faceand his, once you get past the beard." Joanie stirred the creamed corn, her expression full of amusement.

"We've only just met, really."

"Sometimes that's all it takes. You two look like you could start a fire with the sparks between you. He barely takes his eyes off you."

Caroline looked back to Lincoln, and she realized Joanie was right. He was focused on his discussion with Glenn, but his eyes still turned to her every few seconds. And that single look made her body flush with feminine awareness. He looked damned sexy standing there, his tall muscled body relaxed for the first time since she'd met him.

"Wellhe's protective. It's dangerous out here."

"Uh-huh Men protect only what they want to protect. He's not being noble. He wants you."

She knew thathe'd said as muchbut Caroline didn't want to think about it right now.

"Well, I don't know if I want him," she replied, even though it felt like a lie. After that kiss last night, she'd been forced to admit, at least to herself, that she wanted him bad.

Joanie didn't argue, but her face said she didn't believe her. Caroline didn't either. Her body wanted Lincoln, wanted to be claimed, protected, mated, but her rational mind reminded her that they weren't wild beasts. They were human, and she was going to cling to civilized behavior as long as she could before it was ripped away from her.

"Food's ready!" Joanie called out. The men turned and came over. They all filled plates with creamed corn. Joanie produced a box of Twinkies, and Caroline laughed at the look of horror on Lincoln's face. She hadn't been the only one to discover the shelf life of Hostess products was forever.