50 Shades of Meet-Cute

Live and Let Live {Shade 28} Part 1

Hi all! Wanted to write something Halloween 'ish' so decided on a shade. This one got away from me a wee bit at a little over eight thousand words, so I'll post it in two parts. Hope you enjoy :-D

______________________________________________________

Paula Patton -- Emory

Sarah Shahi -- Juanita

Staring at the calendar she smirked in response to today's date. It was the thirty-first of October. Quite fitting for the current happenings throughout the world. Hell, these days every day could be Halloween. Emory hadn't purchased any candy like she usually did since she highly doubted she would have any trick or treaters. Since the television was blank, there wasn't an Internet connection and since the electricity she had thanks to a personal generator randomly flickered the easiest way to keep up with the date was to mark each day off with her trusty red marker.

She placed a tiny x within the box with thirty-one printed in its right-hand corner, playing with the marker's plastic top as she examined the calendar. Today wasn't just Halloween but the 310th day since the initial outbreak of what had been simply dubbed the Sickness. Her family was gone, her friends were gone--some succumbed to the Sickness while others took off in the hopes of finding safer places to inhabit. Not a day went by without Emory praying they were successful. From what she knew there weren't any safe places and if there were they wouldn't remain in that manner forever as the Sickness would inevitably invade every single corner of the earth save perhaps remote islands.

She lost count how many people had asked, had begged her to leave the city that had been her home all her life, yet Emory refused. Running wouldn't do any good. She didn't wish to keep looking over her shoulder, her heart racing, fat drops of sweat skating across her skin, breathing elevated until the day she was finally caught. That wasn't any way to live, so her plan was to remain in the home that had become her fortress during the greater part of a year and laboriously work in the basement, which had become her laboratory.

Every so often she had company when those not infected passed through, but for the most part she was alone behind the high fencing erected around her two-story dwelling. In the beginning the fence would electrocute at the graze of a finger, but with lowered power that feature no longer worked. Fortunately, it still kept contaminated souls at bay--for the most part. Every so often one or two managed to slip by, but using one of many weapons Emory always annihilated them--unless she needed them for some reason.

Like she was about to do. Through narrowed eyes she watched the television, which only worked to show her a rear and front view of her house using a split screen. The two operating cameras were dulled in color and grainy, but they did the job. Pressing a button caused the rear camera to zoom in on the woman straddling the top of her fence before steadily descending it. Emory guessed her to be in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. She had a petite frame and was possibly Hispanic dressed in tattered black jeans and a gray hooded sweatshirt that could stand to be tossed in the washer.

Relieved it seemed she traveled alone, Emory headed into her den, selected a rifle and walked out into the backyard. Left eye squinting through the lens of the mounting scope, she trained it on the woman as she neared the bottom of the fence. Index finger rubbing along the trigger Emory asked her to identify herself. When the woman immediately turned around startled brown eyes met hers.

Startlement. A reflex. That was a positive sign. In addition, those eyes were sharp and focused on the barrel aimed between them. However, Emory chose not to lower her weapon while repeating her inquiry.

"Juanita," she whispered in a fear laden voice. Fear. An emotion. Another positive sign. "Bu...but I prefer Nita 'cause being called Juanita makes me feel about eighty years old."