Page 15 of Doomsdate

I’m not quite running for the door, fingers dumbly smashing buttons in the Lyft app as I slip my coat back on. “Look, I’m sorry to run out, but I’m just not—ready—for all—this.” I gesture at her, the crazy room beyond, some grumpy old man waiting for us in a bunker, and her hands full of condoms, though my cock insists it’s ready for those. Her chin is trembling, and I bury my gaze in the phone buzzing in my hand instead.

We cannot complete your Lyft request at this time. Please try again later.

I bark out a short laugh, slightly hysterical. “No rides! How weird. I’ll just—walk, I guess!”

My house is six miles away, but what other option do I have?

My teeth grit together.

Sandeep’s. The asshole who got me into this mess lives a mile away, tops.

“I…could give you a ride?” Maisie’s voice has gone soft and hurt, and I could punch myself in my own stomach for upsetting this beautiful, kind, absolutely insane woman.

“No! No, I’m sorry, I mean—that’s very nice. Thank you. But no. My friend lives nearby. I’m just gonna—go—um.”

I strain at the door handle, but of course it’s locked fifteen different ways and refuses to budge. I almost scream until Maisie smacks a green button that says Exit next to the door, and I stumble out into the hallway. It’s not empty now—there are two people slumped over on the floor at the end, but I don’t stop to ask them if they’re all right. They’re clearly not. Nothing’s all right, and I almost got Miseryed, and as if that’s not bad enough, my stomach’s killing me.

Everett: SANDEEP, OMG.

Sandeep: what? she’s hot! She’s into health food! She seems nice!!

Everett: She’s a DOOMSDAY PREPPER, SANDEEP. SHE WAS GOING TO CAPTURE ME FOR PROGENY SURVIVAL AND TAKE ME TO A BUNKER. A BUNKER!!

A garbled laugh of despair exits my throat. Me, in a bunker? What does she want, a list of who should’ve won Best Director for the last ten years of the Academy Awards? I’m useless.

I hammer out another text as I shoulder through the door out onto the street.

Everett: AND SHE’S A VIRGIN??

Sandeep: OMG NO

Everett: Laugh it up, jerk. No Lyfts available, so I’m on my way to your place to puke all over your bathroom.

Sandeep: Join the club, man. been lying on top this tile floor for hours. Thinking of popping the question.

Everett: get ready to grovel for my forgiveness. Forever.

Sandeep: I’ll start practicing now.

Sandeep: Be safe out there, man. Shit’s getting real weird.

Chapter Four

T Minus Zero Minutes

Until Shit Hits the Fan

Maisie

“CQ, CQ, CQ, Maisie-girl? You all right?” Gramps repeats for the fifteenth time. I can hear him all the way from the front door, where half an hour ago I had a sexy professor pinned and hard as a rock. I slam the door shut and engage all the locks, then stomp back to the prep room.

I collapse onto the stool and press the push-to-talk button so hard it crunches. “No, I’m not all right! You told him I’m a virgin!”

“What? When?”

“When you radioed me before—you asked if I was still a virgin, then a few minutes later asked if he was bunker material!” I rake my hands through my hair. “You scared him off, Gramps! He ran away!”

“Oh my goodness, I didn’t mean to, sweetheart! I didn’t know he was there, too!” Gramps says, sincere regret softening his usual gruff tone. “I don’t care if he is a professor, the man’s an idiot if he ran away. The world’s going insane out there, Maisie-girl. He’d have been safe with you.”