Surviving the Apocalypse: Pandemic

Chapter 3-1

Chapter 3

Laurie groaned as he slowly came awake. The sun streamed through the space where the curtains didn’t quite meet, and the beams stabbed relentlessly into his eyes. He rolled over in an attempt to escape the bright light and groaned again as pain pierced his brain and dug into his hip as well. Ugh. He’d gone to bed without undressing, and between his phone and his wallet, he was going to be a mass of bruises.

His bedroom was hot and humid, and sweat-soaked clothes were tangled around his lower body. Why did it feel like a sauna? His mom was going through the change, although Laurie wasn’t supposed to know anything about it, but how could he not, when every time he came over she tended to have the A/C cranked up so high it felt like they were living in the Arctic.

What time was it anyway, and what was he doing still in bed?

He peeled open an eyelid and peered at the clock on his nightstand. The numbers blinked an eye-gouging red, indicating the power had gone off during the night.

Abruptly, his stomach roiled, and he managed to get off the bed and into the bathroom before he threw up.

By the time he was finished, he had a sour taste in his mouth, tears streamed down his cheeks, and his nose was running like a faucet. He tore off a strip of toilet paper, dried his eyes, and mopped up his nose.

Did he have a summer version of the flu? Had he gotten food poisoning from something he’d eaten? Why was he still dressed? God, grungy wasn’t the word for how he felt.

He flushed the toilet and opened the medicine chest. His hand froze as he reached for the bottle of mouthwash. It wasn’t the brand he usually used, but it was the brand Lync bought. Everything came back to him—losing another job, getting drunk as a skunk, walking to Lync’s apartment to sleep it off.

Lync must have been so pissed to find Laurie in his bed. He was probably asleep on the couch in the living room. Laurie owed him such an apology.

Well, no point in dilly dallying. He rinsed his mouth and stared bleakly into the mirror at his bloodshot eyes, then shook his head. He winced at the stabbing pain that resulted from that dumb move.

Useless, dude. You are so f*****g useless.

He straightened his shoulders and took a couple of ibuprofen, then made his way to the living room to face the music.

“Lync? Please don’t yell at me. My head feels like it’s gonna fall off and roll—”

Lync wasn’t on the couch. Laurie stared at the cushions that still sagged in the middle. No blanket was folded up and placed neatly on a pillow at the foot of the couch.

“Great. Just f*****g great.” Lync was so pissed with him he hadn’t even stayed in his own apartment. Did Lync have a boyfriend now? Had he gone to stay with him?

Okay, that wasn’t something he needed to think about now or ever—it wasn’t his business anymore. He went back to the bedroom to retrieve his phone and was tempted to hit himself in the head when he realized it hadn’t worked the night before because he’d turned it off. He pressed the power button, relieved to see he had a seventy percent charge, which wasn’t too bad. He usually charged it before he went to bed, but he’d been too trashed the night before. He had a message, but it was probably Mom, chewing him out for missing dinner yesterday. That could wait. Meanwhile, he’d charge his phone; he’d be happier when it had a full charge. He knew where Lync kept his charger, and it was just lucky it fit Laurie’s phone. He plugged it in and placed it on the kitchen counter.

And he might as well program the coffee maker while he was at it. He could use a cup of coffee. He knew Lync kept a can in the fridge, and it wouldn’t matter if the fridge had been without power for a time. Coffee might get stale, but it didn’t spoil. And while milk would, he could drink his coffee black if he had to.

He pulled open the refrigerator, pleased when the light went on, not so pleased when he saw the contents, or rather lack of them. All that was in there was the coffee and a couple of bottles of water. Damn. Hadn’t Lync gone grocery shopping? Back when they’d dated, he always stocked up on Monday, which was his day off. He should have had some food in the fridge.

Suddenly Laurie became hopeful. Maybe Lync had gone out to pick up something for breakfast—an Egg McMuffin or a Croissan’wich. Sure, that was probably where he’d gone.

Laurie had better get cleaned up before Lync came home. He hurried into the bathroom and turned on the shower. One stroke of luck: the water pressure was good. He removed his watch, stripped off his clothes, adjusted the temperature, and stepped under the spray. He’d keep it short. By the time he was done, Lync would be home with breakfast.