“I didn’t expect it to be so empty,” he says.
“What?”
“Everything. Everywhere. I guess I assumed the rotters would have taken over, but we hardly see any. Not that I want to see ‘em. It’s a good thing that it’s quiet. Fuck, I’m gonna jinx us, aren’t I?”
She shrugs with a shake of her head. “They were everywhere in the beginning. But like I said before, it’s really only the fast ones now, and they live in herds like those bison. We’re damn lucky we haven’t seen those yet. The slow ones have mostly disintegrated.”
Their chosen trailer has one strangely fresh but slow occupant that she takes care of with her knife before they begin searching for supplies.
“Hope there’s some clothes in here. Need to find you a jacket. Getting cold at night,” he grunts.
It doesn’t hold a jacket, but she finds another hoodie under the platform bed and several packages of ramen noodles in the cupboards. They’ll be eating good tonight.
“I’m gonna go check out that jeep in front. Be right back.”
He leaves her behind to see what’s under the drop cloth peaking out from the side of the trailer while she continues searching hidden storage compartments. What she doesn’t expect is the sound of an engine roaring to life with a rumbling purr. Nearly trips over herself to go out and look, finding Wade smiling ear to ear beside a Land Rover.
“Oh my god. That hasn’t happened in years. How is it even running?”
“Got no clue,” he grins. “Maybe whoever was here was maintaining it. Might have been…I dunno, making their own gas outta vegetable oils or whatever preppers use? That’s a thing, right?”
“I’m no prepper, but I suppose so.”
“It ain’t a jeep. It’s one of those expensive things. Built to last.”
They had a few select cars still running for emergencies in Paradise Falls, even if they prefer the horses now. She never thought to ask them exactly how they did it, though. They’ve learned how to keep them running, and apparently the owner of this trailer had those skills, too.
“What are you looking for?” she squints, watching him fuss near the floorboards until he holds up a CD.
“No label. Should we give it a shot?”
She nods, hoping it’s a good song and not something depressing.
He pops it into the player and for a moment there’s nothing but static, but then a sultry, deep voice feathers across the air mingling with the wildlife that’s begun to chatter for the night.
‘Come away with me’has probably graced a thousand weddings. Now it’s here with them, in the speaker of an old Land Rover in a deserted campground.
It’s getting darker by the second but they’re in the middle of nowhere, and she’s safe with him. She isn’t worried about what she can’t see when he’s clear in front of her, backlit by the headlights, reaching out a hand as if asking to dance.
It’s a joke. It has to be. Wade doesn’t dance. He would never ask. Maybe she’s hallucinating again.
“Are you gonna leave me hanging here? I’ll try not to step on your feet.”
It takes her a moment to realize he’s serious. In all her wildest fantasies, she never allowed herself to imagine anything so far out of reach. He’s doing that thing again, trying for her in a way that turns everything she thought she knew upside down. When her palm slips into his and he pulls her close, the uninhibited smile that overtakes her is all-consuming.
All their battles fall away for the time being. She’s not a fighter or a warrior or a runner. Right now, she’s just a woman dancing with a handsome man who’s managed to make her feel special when no one else ever could.
He spins her once, awkwardly holding his hand in the air while she twirls. This is thegoodkind of fairy tale, she thinks, letting out a delighted half-laugh as he tugs her back in.
“Sway with me,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s just a swaying hug. We’re getting pretty good at hugs.”
“Damn right we are.”
She hasn’t done this much either, only once at a wedding a million years ago. She’s rusty, but he’s not nearly as bad at it as he assumed he would be. They fit. The two of them always have. What’s unfamiliar is easy because she’s with him and they fall into a slow, simple rhythm under the last rays of golden light that fan across the plains.
Kara isn’t sure what comes over her. Later, she might look back and scold herself for taking such liberties, but her hand moves on its own and she’s powerless to stop it. Her touch roams the span of a wide shoulder and through the curve of his neck, over a stubbled cheek that warms her palm until the tip of her thumb feathers reverently across his lips.
What’s even more surprising than how she’s touching him is that he lets her, holding still as if mesmerized until she’s had her fill.
