I looked at the empty kitchen island. Then I looked at the medical kit we had scavenged. Empty. The cooling pads were used. The stabilizers were crushed on the floor. We had burned through every resource we had to survive the crisis.
"We need to resupply," I stated, the decision tasting like acid on my tongue.
"We can order delivery," Simon suggested, pulling his knees to his chest. He looked strung out, his dark eyes shadowed, his hands twitching. He hadn't let go of his sketchbook since breakfast. "Drone drop. Courier. Whatever rich people do."
"Not out here," I countered. "Not with the roads just opening. And certainly not with the discretion we require."
I checked my watch.
"We have to go into town," I said. "Seaboard is twenty minutes away. We hit the pharmacy, the grocer, and I need to find a signal booster that actually works. If we are moving her to the city tomorrow, I need to coordinate the security detail for the transport."
"I'm not leaving her," Daniel said. His voice was soft, but it had the immovable quality of a mountain range. He crossed his massive arms over his chest. "She's sleeping. If she wakes up and the house is empty..."
"She isn't a child, Daniel. She's a woman who just survived a biological supernova," I snapped, though I stepped closer, softening my tone. "And right now, that woman needs painkillers that aren't aspirin, proper nutrition, and fresh hydration. We are currently useless to her."
I pointed to his flannel shirt. It was torn at the shoulder.
"And we smell like a riot," I added. "We need to clean up before we execute the extraction. If we walk her into my brownstone looking like this, the doorman calls the police."
Daniel looked down at himself, then at the empty pantry. He let out a sigh that rattled his ribcage.
"Fine. One of us stays."
"No," I said. "We go together. Strength in numbers, speed in execution. If we split up, it takes twice as long. We hit the town, we grab the assets, we return. Sixty minutes. Ninety, tops."
"She's going to freak out," Simon whispered.
"She won't," I said, projecting a confidence I didn't feel. "Because we are going to tell her exactly what we are doing. No more secrets. No more hiding behind the bleachers."
I walked toward the hallway. My heart was hammering a heavy, dull rhythm against my ribs. Every step away from the bedroom felt like stretching a rubber band that was destined to snap back.
Protect the asset.
The mantra used to be about money. Now, it was about the way her breath hitched when she slept.
I pushed the bedroom door open.
The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the grey morning. Tessa was curled in the center of the bed, buried underthe duvet. She looked swallowed by the space, small and pale and precious.
I approached the bed. The scent of Brine and Sex hit me, making my knees weak. I knelt beside the mattress, bringing my face level with hers.
"Tessa," I whispered.
She stirred instantly. Her survival instincts were still dialed to eleven. Her grey eyes flew open, finding mine in the gloom.
"Anders?" Her voice was a rusted hinge, scratchy from screaming.
"Hey," I murmured, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her cheek. My hand was steady, but it took effort. "We have to make a run."
She sat up instantly, the duvet falling to her waist. She was wearing one of Daniel’s spare t-shirts, which hung off her shoulder. Panic flared in her eyes, sharp, silvery, and immediate.
"You're leaving?"
"Just resupplying," I corrected, keeping my voice low and level. "We’re out of food and medical supplies. The plow cleared the road, so we’re going to drive into Seaboard to get what you need."
"All of you?" she asked, looking past me to the doorway where Daniel and Simon hovered like anxious ghosts.
"Efficiency," I said. "Daniel handles food. Simon handles gear. I handle the comms. We do it fast; we come back."
