Induction

He came out of the bedroom draped in a tee shirt, at least four sizes too big, and a pair of baggy sweatpants. I smiled at the image and he smirked back at me. “You think this is bad? Wait until you try to find something in your size.” My smile faded as I looked down at my petite frame. At a slender one-twenty, Jake dwarfed me.

* * *

I peeled off my wet clothes and hung them over the shower rod to dry. Ever try to wiggle out of wet skinny jeans? It’s not an easy task, I assure you. Winded from the mini workout the jeans provided, I began rooting through the closet in the master bedroom. Jake wasn’t kidding; the smallest shirt I found was a four-X. The fact that it went down past my knees at least meant that I didn’t have to look for pants. The Nine Inch Nails logo was its only saving grace.

Jake was stuffing the last of his bologna sandwich in his mouth when I came out. Mustard stained the corners of his mouth and a dollop had fallen onto his new digs. I rummaged through the cabinets for bowls and filled one with water for Daphne. I set down the water, and began feeding her pieces of bologna, which she gobbled up greedily.

The sun had gone down and the lack of natural light made it impossible to see. I used the flashlight feature on my phone and rifled through the kitchen drawers in hopes of finding a candle. Coming up empty, I moved into the second bedroom and discovered a closet occupied by a freestanding toolbox. I was so happy; I nearly kissed the box. I found one of those industrial flashlights and turned off my phone light to save battery. “Jake, look what I found,” I whispered.

We pulled out anything that could be used as a weapon and settled on a hammer, a huge screwdriver, and the piece de resistance: a large axe leaning against the side of the toolbox. Jake handed me the trusty crowbar and hammer while he claimed the ax and screwdriver. “These things are drawn by sound. The gun is a last resort only, and we need to conserve bullets,” he said.

Jake found two backpacks and filled them with the nonperishable items from the pantry, two more flashlights, the four extra bottles of water, and a change of clothes for each of us. A change of clothes for me meant another tent of a tee shirt. I opted for a Godsmack one this time. If nothing else, the owner of the home we currently squatted in had great taste in music. Each of us grabbed a couple pairs of socks, but we decided going commando was preferable to wearing borrowed tighty-whiteys. We put the bags next to our cache of makeshift weapons on the kitchen table by the back door and checked to see if our clothes were dry. Both of our jeans were still drenched and our shirts were damp at best. Hopefully the night would dry them out, but the humidity left me skeptical.

A bump on the outside of the house caused Daphne to let out a half growl, half whimper. I bent down to console her, not missing Jake’s glare. We heard nothing after the initial sound, nothing other than the whipping rain and wind that battered the house. I hit the button on my phone to display the time. It was nine o’clock. I was wiped. In less than twelve hours we had gone from our happy bliss to fighting to survive and looting other people’s homes for basic necessities.

The master bedroom had a weird smell, like funky gym shorts in desperate need of a wash. Smell or not, it was the Ritz compared to what our house had become when we left. We closed the door and Jake slid the dresser in front of the door to reinforce the entry. I shook out the comforter and watched as he moved the tall bureau down the wall and in front of the window. Any intruders would have quite the barriers to break through should they attempt entry.

The muscles on Jake’s back and arms tensed with exertion. I’d been lying about his ass being flat; his ass was fine with a capital F. I had to stop myself from walking across the room and grabbing me a big ol’ handful of yum. What can I say? My husband was a hottie from head to toe. Even terrified out of my wits, in the middle of the end of the world, I can find the silver lining.

“You need to put Daphne in the closet.”

“What?” I couldn’t believe he was asking me to lock her away. “Why?”

“Because it’s not near any windows. And I don’t want to wake up to find her barking at a noise outside. It’s safer for us.” He picked her up before I could reach for her and dropped her to the closet floor.

“Jake, stop. She’ll be terrified. I’ll keep her quiet, I promise.” My lips began to quiver and I could feel tears coming. Daphne had become like a safety blanket for me through all of this. With her in my arms, I felt more relaxed, more grounded.