Page 13 of Where We Found Our Home
“Hey! I am not afraid of zombies per se, just the idea of a zombie apocalypse. That shit is scary! Haven’t you ever seenThe Walking Dead? No, fuck that. The people are bigger monsters than the zombies on that show. Haven’t you ever seen28 Days Later? Those fuckers were not only undead, they were fast! Terrified the ever loving fuck out of me. I used to beg my parents to let me make a bug-out bag.”
“Like with med-kits, weapons, and food?”
“Yeah, I wanted to have it packed so if anything happened I could take off. I told them we should each have one, but they said no.”
Oh my God, is this a flaw? No. Dammit, it’s adorable.
“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. Let’s back up. I thought we were talking about you as a kid.”
“We were.”
“But28 Days Latercame out in like 2007. How old were you then?”
He rolls his eyes. “Seventeen.” I burst out laughing. I did the best I could to hold it in, but I can’t take it anymore. “You laugh, but that shit is no joke. I was always afraid of them. The bug-out bag phase was when I was a kid, but when I saw28 Days Laterthat just made me feel justified in my fear. I’d like to see you not be scared if one of those fuckers came at you.”
“No…you’re…so right. I’m sorry…” I croak out in between laughs.
“Yuck it up, Ci. If a zombie apocalypse were to happen now I’d be so ready. I’d make Rick Grimes look like a pussy, so you better be nice to me if you want me to allow you to travel in my group.”
“Oh, well excuuuuse me. And by the way, I was and will forever be #TeamShane.”
“Oh shit. A woman after my own heart.”
A moment of comfortable silence passes before I check the time on my phone.
“Wow, it’s late. I should probably head up to bed.”
“Yeah, you’re supposed to be resting, and I’m monopolizing your time.”
“Exactly, you monster.”
“As punishment, I banish myself to this lumpy couch while you go enjoy the plush bed in the guest room.”
“Hey, I earned that plush bed today. What’d you do today? Put out some fires, save some lives? Psh, child’s play.” I wink. A surprised laugh bursts out of him, and I want to hear more of it.
“I bow down to you.” He feigns a bowing motion.
“As you should.” I get up from the couch, and Lincoln rises as well. “Well, good night.”
“Good night, Ciara, sleep well. I set some alarms on my phone so I can wake up every few hours and come in to check on you.”
The thought of Lincoln coming to my room—to my bedside—tonight has me clenching my thighs again. “You know it’s funny, doctors tell you to rest for a concussion but also make sure you get no rest at all the first twenty-four hours.” He looks at me in confusion so I continue. “It’s just that I’m such a light sleeper so there’s no way I’ll sleep through you coming in to check on me.” I’m not really that much of a light sleeper, but that sounds better than “the thought of your fine ass being that close to me when I’m in bed is gonna keep me up all night so I’ll be up when you come in anyway.”
“You got a point there. It’s a conspiracy.”
“Definitely, we should make a subReddit about this.”
“Way ahead of you.”
“Goodnight, Linc.”
“Goodnight.”
I walk over to the steps then turn around again. “Hey, Linc?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
