Part 10 (1/2)

His eyes opened, but they were hooded. He was awake, but not yet fully conscious of his surroundings.

”Tex, stay with me!” I ordered. ”I'm going to give you some water. You have to swallow it, okay?” I said, staring into his eyes. I wasn't sure if he knew what was going on; he grunted, so I took that as a yes. I pressed my thumb against his bottom lip. It was chapped and wind-burned, but soft. ”Open,” I commanded. He did and I tilted his head back, dribbling a few droplets onto his tongue. ”Drink.” I let a few more drop into his mouth. He swallowed it. I put a little more in this time and I he finally got the hang of it; he became greedy.

We were satiated, but still unbearably tired. I felt drunk and fuzzy, but I was able to pull out the blanket and lay it down. I dragged Tex onto it; he helped very little, but I couldn't blame him. He had carried me. I dropped down next to him, wanting to feel safe. He made me feel safe. He saved me. We kept saving each other and it was crazy to think about it. We had barely known each other a week and we had rescued each other more than any two people would probably do in a lifetime. I curled up beside him, no longer caring about how it looked.

He was my comfort.

[ Tex ]

I woke up, but barely. Blondie was lying beside me; her arm was linked with mine. Her head rested above my shoulder. Her hair smelled like dirt-the scent of shampoo long gone. I was still so d.a.m.ned fatigued and every bone in my body throbbed like I had run a marathon. In a way, I had. I didn't want to wake up yet and I didn't care whether it was night or day.

I brushed her cheek with my thumb. It was dusty. I rested my forehead against hers, taking in the sweet smell of her skin, and drifted back to sleep.

[ Elle ]

I was groggy, thirsty, and hungry. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was Tex's hand resting gently on the side of my neck; his lips mere inches from mine. His steady breaths fell across my face. He wasn't awake, but his thumb absently ran along my jaw line. I loved this. I didn't want it to end.

I was afraid it would end though. We would soon have to have the talk-the talk that involved my father and the heinous act he had committed. I was so scared that he'd close up and the little moments like this would disappear-he would be back sleeping on the edge of the blanket and never tell me his real, honest name.

I looked at his lips, though chapped and burned, they looked inviting. I remembered them on my forehead. I didn't know what I was doing, but I inched my face forward so that his breath was. .h.i.tting my mouth. I didn't want to admit to myself that I felt something more than friends.h.i.+p towards him. It was a stupid feeling and I wished it would die. I tried to tell myself that I only felt it because he was the first man I had come upon since the end of the world happened, but that would be a lie; I loved his laugh and his witty quips. I loved his toothy grin and his imperfections. I loved his stories. I loved his h.e.l.l bent att.i.tude towards everything. I loved that his height dwarfed me.

I loved the fact that he still ached for his wife and daughter, that he had loved them so much. I loved that he didn't see me as my father's daughter, but as Blondie.

I loved that we had the ability to save each other in more ways than one.

Though I wanted to kiss him, I didn't. Instead, I leaned my forehead against his; it felt right for some reason. I wasn't sure how long we had been sleeping for, but I didn't care. I liked where we were at that moment. I didn't want to have to deal with reality, so I closed my eyes and fell back to sleep. And as I drifted off, I smiled.

[ Tex ]

There was no way to tell if we had slept one day or five. Since Leonard and his gang of goons hadn't arrived, I expected two at the most, if they had been able to copy the map in time. My fingers were crossed that they hadn't, but with my rotten luck, I wouldn't be surprised if they had. It made me wonder if Blondie's dad was still alive or if Leonard had did him in for helping us escape. We'd have to keep a constant state of alertness and I wasn't looking forward to that; I was still beyond exhausted. But then again, there was an itch that I hadn't been able to scratch lately: my double-sided axe. I didn't condone killing, but I wouldn't mind watching a few heads roll if need be. I wondered what a shrink would think about me. Those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds deserved what they had coming if they ever found us again. My fingers curled, remembering the weight of the axe in my hands.

Blondie stretched out beside me, her limbs delicately cracking, if that was even possible. Her hair was mussed and she was in desperate need of another shampoo. Her skin was pale against her bright green eyes. I didn't believe it was possible, but sleep must have enlarged her eyes; they were huge on her face and she reminded me of a porcelain doll my mom had given to Danielle on her fourth birthday. She smacked her lips together and grimaced.

”Water.” Her voice was rough. I handed her a water bottle I had refilled while she had been sleeping. She downed it before giving it back to me. ”More.” I laughed and refilled it for her. She polished that one off in seconds.

”You're going to have to p.i.s.s like a race horse in an hour,” I said, refilling the rest of the bottles and tucking them into our packs.

”Charming,” she muttered. Blondie stood up, undid her braid, and brushed her fingers through her hair while shaking her head. Dirt fell from her scalp as dust floated around her like a fog. She re-braided her hair.

”Charming,” I repeated.

I pulled out a bag of what was left of our beef jerky. I took out the largest piece and tore a bit off between my teeth. I watched Blondie because there was nothing else to do. She looked down the front of her s.h.i.+rt and then her shorts. The scene unfolding before me was hilarious and it reminded me of something I might have watched on a sitcom way back when.

She sighed dramatically and said, ”Oh, this is so gross. I need to change. It looks like dirt and grime are just falling from my pores.” She threw a meaningful glance in my direction and gestured her index finger in a circular motion. ”Turn around. Don't peak.”

I rolled my eyes and spun around on the rock I was sitting on. ”I wouldn't dream of it.”

I heard her bag unzip and something was pulled from it-her clean clothes. Just by the subtle noises everything made, I knew what she was doing. I heard her shorts unzip then drop to her ankles. Something thinner and more delicate fell next. I heard the brush of fabric against her skin as she pulled her top over her head and let that drop to the ground next. Then something snapped-her bra.

So there was a naked woman standing behind me. Well, this was new. It had been almost five years since I'd been around one and that had been my wife. My lips pressed in a thin, straight line and I let out a breath through my nose.

I heard Blondie brush at her skin. I ran my hands over my head. I picked at the beef jerky. I picked up a pebble and examined it: smooth and gray with white specks. I noticed all the nooks, all the crannies imprinted in the cave wall before me. I connected them together like constellations in the midnight sky.

Something else brushed against her skin. I finished off the jerky, chewing on it until it was just mush in my mouth. I took a swig of water, wis.h.i.+ng it was rum or whiskey. I could really use a drink right now, I thought dryly.

I couldn't deny that she was, well, hot. I guess I was still young enough to use that word. I also couldn't deny that it had been almost five years since I had slept with someone-my wife. And having a twenty-three year old undress behind me wasn't fair in the slightest. She was old enough to know exactly what she was doing to me. Sarah had done the same exact thing on numerous occasions, teasing me, taunting me while I was in a position that I wasn't able to reciprocate. I hadn't given her any pleasure from it and I wouldn't give any to Blondie either. I licked my bottom lip, let out a dramatic sigh, and rolled my shoulders.

”Done yet, Kid?”

”Patience is a virtue, Old Man.”

My laugh was mirthless.

”Okay, I'm done,” she said.

I turned around and she looked exactly the same while stuffing something pink and lacy into her backpack. I guess she had just changed whatever she wore underneath. I didn't want to think about it.

Blondie handed me the map.

”How much farther?” She asked, peering over my shoulder. Her breath hit my cheek. I didn't know why I was so aware of every little thing she did now. It was getting on my nerves or maybe it was just making me nervous. I had to figure out the difference.

With my fingertip, I quickly pointed to where we were at that moment, and then traced it along the black line until it hit Eden. ”s.h.i.+t,” I muttered under my breath. After everything that had gone down over the last few days, I hadn't realized we were almost there.

”Is it our next stop?” Blondie squeaked. When did her excited squeaks become cute?

”It looks that way,” I said.

”At-freaking-last.” She pushed off of me and grabbed her stuff. ”Oh, Tex, I wonder what will be there. I bet there'll be food and clothing and soap and shampoo and tweezers-oh, G.o.d, do I need tweezers-and razors that aren't dull like mine and nail clippers and a comb and-”

”Geez, Kid. Don't get your hopes up.” She was acting like a little kid on the day before Christmas. I loved the moments when she was stuck between a woman and a child. It was like the best of both worlds and it endeared me to her. She had become good at that lately.

”You're right,” she pouted, sticking out her lower lip. I looked away.

I had come to terms with my family's death. I missed my wife, but it would be a lie to say that the details of her face weren't beginning to fade from my memory. Without a portrait to remind me, it would be hopeless. Time healed, but not always in the ways you wanted. I was afraid that I was beginning to forget the sound of her voice, the way her laugh would always brighten up my mood. It was as if she was a photograph with a delayed exposure. The important parts were still there, but the in-betweens were blurred, smudged. I could remember the smell of her favorite perfume and her homemade spaghetti sauce, but not the curve where her neck met her shoulder or the slope of her lower back.

I felt guilty letting these memories disappear, but if I was being honest with myself, and I was, I wanted them to go away. I was tired of hurting, sick of feeling guilty; it was draining me in every way possible. Being alive was a constant reminder of her death and if I was to move on and live, I had to forget. I wouldn't forget the day we met, the day I proposed, or any of the days I spent with Danielle.

And I could already feel it happening. It was probably wrong of me to find joy in this, but I did, and I basked in it.

I recognized the sweet scent that invaded me. Blondie suddenly stood beside me with a knowing smile on her lips. She always seemed to know when I needed a moment to myself. She looked up at me with her bright, emerald eyes, handed me my pack, and took my wrist in her hand.

”Let's go, Tex. I'm way too excited to stand around for even another minute.”

”Gabriel.”

”What?” She asked with a tilt to her head. I loved that.