work ever so much.”
Hannah wanted to roll her eyes at Beth’s poorly disguised attempt at flattery.
“Just doing my part,” said Brody. “Listen, do you mind if I go to town this afternoon. I’m going to need more oil to keep this baby running, and I thought I’d see what other supplies I could grab.”
“Want me to go with you?” The words came out of Hannah’s mouth and surprised her.
“No, it’s okay. I thought I’d swing by my parents’ place while I was there too.”
Hannah froze. “You haven’t been there yet?”
“No. I came here first.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hannah blurted.
Brody frowned at her as did Beth. “Why not?”
But Hannah couldn’t tell him in front of Beth. “Listen, I’ll go with you. I need to pick up some stuff. Okay?”
Jumping up and grabbing the tray, she quick walked back to the house in an attempt to forestall questions. She should have known it wouldn’t work.
Brody had put it off long enough, and Hannah’s odd reaction puzzled him while lighting a curious fire. What secrets lay hidden at his parents’ house? What did she fear he’d see?
The time had come to pay a visit to place he’d called home for over twenty years. And he intended to do it alone.
It had been obvious that Hannah wanted to come with him, but he couldn’t be sure what his reaction would be. He had no intention of letting her see him as less than strong, especially knowing there was a chance he’d break down. The guilt he felt over abandoning his parents-not just the first time he'd left, but when his dad had called and told him his mother had caught the sickness-still presided. Brody had fought an inner battle, wanting to fly to his mother’s side but at the same time too scared to watch her die. He’d had a long time to regret that choice. It didn’t matter she’d died faster than he could have made it back. The fact remained; he never should have left and hurt the two women he loved most: his mother and Hannah. A hurt he compounded by never bothering to come back even for a visit.
Downshifting the gears on his bike, he coasted up the weed-choked driveway to the battered green vinyl house. Brody’s gut clenched as he braced himself for the memories already assailing him, like the one of his dad playing catch with him on the front lawn and the crooked mailbox he’d crashed into while learning to ride his bike, a feat accomplished with both his father and mother cheering him on. His steps echoed loudly on the wooden risers that led up to the wide porch where his mother had served lemonade to him and a more carefree Hannah.
The screen door sagged and creaked when he pulled it open. He expected the thick, green door to be locked, but the knob turned in his hand. Sucking in a deep breath, he took a step into the musty interior and fell into the past.
And when he found out why Hannah had tried to stop him, guilt crashed over him like a tidal wave, sinking him to his knees.
Chapter Five
Hannah heard the sound of his bike leaving and dropped the dishes she was rinsing to run outside in time to watch his bike as it got smaller and smaller in the distance. She knew where he’d gone, and she cursed a blue streak as she bolted for her pink mountain bike. Even as she pedaled she knew she’d be too late but, knowing what he faced, she pumped faster.
Out of breath, she rode right up onto the lawn of his old house and hopped off the bike, letting it fall to the ground as she raced up the steps and through the open front door.
“Brody!” She called his name in the dead silence. He didn’t answer. She knew where she’d find him and though her heart stuttered, she whipped up the stairs to his parents’ bedroom and stopped in the doorway. She’d found him and the secret she’d tried to hide from him.
Brody knelt on the floor, head bowed and shoulders heaving. Hannah approached quietly and, dropping to her knees behind him, hugged him tight.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered hoarsely.
Guilt twinged her. “I didn’t know how.”
His laughter sounded bitter. “I guess it’s not the easiest thing to say, ’Hey Brody, your dad killed himself.’” Hannah winced at his blunt words. “It’s stupid, it never occurred to me he might be immune too. How long after my mom died did he off himself?”
Hannah swallowed at the misery and intense guilt she heard in his voice. “I don’t know. I ran into him the first time I came to town for supplies after everyone was gone. He didn’t make much sense.” Brody shook in her embrace. “I wanted him to come stay with us but when I went to go get him the next day, this is what I found.” With a hole in his head and blood staining the sheets. She didn’t tell him how she’d screamed and cried when she’d seen Brody’s father lying beside his wife, a peaceful look finally crowning his face even amid all the horror.
“I never knew. I would have come back sooner if I’d known.”
Hannah’s heart ached for him. Would the outcome been different if Brody had returned? Maybe, but then again Harold had been married to his sweet Marie for thirty-five years and known her for almost fifty. His heart had died when she had. The idea of a love that strong both appealed to and frightened Hannah. Especially since she’d thought of death a few times when Brody had left her.
“I’m sorry, Brody. I should have warned you, but I didn’t know how.”
He turned in her arms and wrapped himself around her, his body shuddering as he grieved. She hugged him tightly, her own eyes leaking as she shared his pain.
Together they knelt, both finally crying for a past they could not change. Hannah’s barriers fell at his obvious pain, his vulnerability, a side of him she’d never expected to see.
And she couldn’t help herself from falling in love with him all over again.
Brody finally controlled himself, appalled that he’d cried like the biggest of sissies and in front of Hannah no less. Unable to look behind him and see his parents again in their makeshift tomb, he grasped Hannah tightly and stood with her, his knees protesting after having knelt on the hard floor for so long.
He walked Hannah down the stairs, his hand clasping hers tightly. Out they went, through the front door of the house to the fresh air outside. He gulped deeply to erase the scent of death. Nothing, however, would ever remove the horror and guilt of what he’d done to his parents through his selfish absence from his mind. But he’d learned one thing very important thing since the apocalypse. He couldn’t dwell on what could have been. He had to move on and look to the future. While he couldn’t atone to his parents, he could make sure he didn’t repeat the mistakes of the past with Hannah. The future started with taking better care of her and the family she had left. She didn’t protest or move away when he folded her into his arms and hugged her tightly.
His arms loosened from her finally, and she leaned back to look at him.
“Are you okay?” she asked timidly, her eyes still red from crying.
“I’ll live,” he said with a crooked attempt at a grin. “How did you get here?”
She pointed to a bike sprawled on the grass. The thought of her riding it, she who’d hated biking growing up, made him want to cry again. This time in joy. She could deny it all she wanted, but she still cared.
Walking their bikes the few blocks into town, she finally talked to him and asked the questions Beth and Fred had already bombarded him with.
“What’s it like outside of here? Did many survive?”
“The whole planet is like a ghost town. There are survivors, but in my travels across America, they’ve been
