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husband be one of heartbreak and grief,” she told her. “I’m going to remember him just as he is out there.” She pointed out the window. “Happy and full of love, for me and everyone around him.”

Pushing past Nicole, Caitlin reached for the door.

It was only a beat before stepping outside that she noticed how the conversation at the fire pit had died down.

The group all stood in a loose semi-circle, staring at the trailer that clearly had very little soundproofing.

She found Booker’s gaze instantly, and even in the dark she could see his shattered expression.

She’d been wrong. This would be her last memory of him.

Caitlin’s breath left her in a rush, a condensation cloud appearing in front of her face.

“Cae?” Booker’s voice cracked and so did her heart.

Closing her eyes, she fought the fresh tears threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry, Jack. I’m so sorry.”

* * * * * * *

The table in Nicole and Scott’s trailer had never seemed that small to Caitlin, but with so many people crowded around it, she was starting to rethink her assessment.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why wouldn’t you tell us?”

“You kept it from us for so long?”

“When did it happen?”

The questions and voices bled into each other.

But all Caitlin could do was stare straight ahead at Booker.

“Can you all give us a minute, please?” She asked, barely looking over to the rest of the group.

It took some urging from Nicole but finally the trailer cleared out, and she and Booker were alone.

The silence however was deafening.

“Jack… Jack, look at me.”

Slowly, he dragged his gaze up from the table, locking eyes with her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” she murmured. “I just couldn’t bring myself to break your heart like that.”

“Guess your plan didn’t work out, huh,” he muttered, voice more gravel and pain than she’d ever heard from him.

Caitlin swallowed, trying to force down the knot in her throat.

“I understand why you’re mad,” she said. “I mean, after everything…”

Booker shook his head. “Nah, I ain’t mad,” he said. “I’m just thinkin’… Maybe this is it for both of us.”

She thought she’d misheard him.

Caitlin blinked, frowning. “What?”

“If your ticket’s gettin’ punched…” He shrugged. “Don’t see why mine can’t too.”

Horrified, she gaped at him.

“Booker, no.”

He looked up at her. “What, you think… I’m just supposed to put you in the ground and then, what? Carry on?”

“That’s exactly what you should do.”

“Nah,” he drawled, shaking his head. “I’m done, Cae. You go, I go. Simple as that.”

“It is not simple,” she snapped. “What about the others? Nicole loves you like a brother, and Desi…” She leaned forward. “She adores you, Jack.”

“She’s got Nicole and Scott.”

“She called you ‘dad’. You can’t turn your back on her like this.”

He slammed his fist on the table. “And you can’t expect me to live without you,” he yelled.

Putting his head in his hands, Booker muttered incoherently for a moment before dragging a breath down his raw windpipe.

“Songbird, you’re the only thing keepin’ me goin’ in this world,” he admitted. “If you ain’t in it, I… I just don’t see a reason to be either.”

Sliding her hand across the table, she couldn’t quite reach him.

“Jack, that’s extreme,” she said. “And it isn’t healthy—”

“This world is extreme,” he snapped. “And it’s broken and deadly and without reason.” He titled forward, pegging her with a hard glare. “If you can just go wander off into a field somewhere and put a bullet in your skull, why can’t I?”

Tears fell from Caitlin’s lashes as she stared at him.

“Because I don’t want to die knowing I brought you down too,” she whispered. “Jack, my time’s up and it wasn’t my decision. But you… you have a choice.”

He nodded, making a noise at the back of his throat.

“And I choose now.”

Caitlin’s grief was proving to be too much, tearing her apart from the inside.

“Together or not at all,” Booker continued. “’S whatchu said.”

“I didn’t mean like this,” she choked out.

His expression was grim but resolute.

“Yeah, well… it’s where we’re at, ain’t it.”

A sound behind them brought both their heads around.

“We just need another minute,” Caitlin said, wiping under her eyes.

Entering the trailer, Scott wasn’t deterred. “Caitlin, when were you bit?”

The question felt so out of place after everything she and Booker had been discussing.

“This morning,” she said, frowning. “Why?”

Coming in behind him, Nicole tried to pull her husband back. “Scott, they’re not done—”

“No, I know,” he said, waving her off gently. “But this is important.”

Pulling out a folding chair, Scott took a seat at the table.

“You said you were bit this morning? At the barn with Seth?”

Caitlin felt dizzy.

“Yes,” she said, leaning on her uninjured forearm.

“That was over twelve hours ago,” Scott said. “I’ll grab my kit to be sure, but just from looking at you, I can tell you’re not fevered. You’re not sweating, you don’t have any discoloration around your eyes or lips—”

“Scott, what are you saying?” Nicole interrupted.

He glanced up at her before turning back at Caitlin. “Back at the Iowa camp, when we were making the vaccine, we learned a lot about the virus,” he said. “We learned how fast it attacked the system, how rapidly people fell ill.” He shifted forward, urging her to look at him. “And we also learned that point zero one percent of the world’s population was immune.”

Caitlin started to roll her eyes. “Yeah, like everyone kept at the Iowa Ark.”

“No, we have higher immunity against the virus,” he corrected. “But we aren’t immune.”

She felt like she was missing the punchline.

Nicole tapped out the math on her fingers. “Point zero one percent of eight billion people

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