Page 74 of Sick(ness)

Her hands trembled slightly, the towel twisting between her fingers.

She moved to the small window over the sink, staring out at the men as they worked. Jay was crouched near the edge of the treeline, adjusting one of the traps — a crude setup of wire, tin cans, and an old fishing bell he must’ve scavenged from his shop. Sawyer stood nearby, rifle slung across his back, scanning the ridge as he worked.

They looked steady and capable. Both of them. And that steadiness gave her comfort even as fear threaded tighter in her chest.

She turned from the window and began reorganizing supplies, stacking the canned food and folding blankets near the hearth. The small motions helped; they made her feel useful. Still, her thoughts kept circling back.

What if Jay was right? What if those men, or others like them, came here?

Outside, the wind picked up, scattering snow across the lake. She saw Sawyer straighten suddenly, his posture changing — alert, ready. Her breath caught until she realized it was just the sound of a branch breaking under the weight of ice. He glanced toward the cabin, saw her at the window, and gave a small nod.

That small gesture was enough. It steadied her heartbeat, just a little.

When the men finally came back inside, both covered in frost and smelling of cold air and pine, Sawyer shut the door hard against the wind. “Perimeter’s tight,” he said, his voice low. “If anyone comes close, we’ll know.”

Jay nodded, unwrapping his scarf. “I moved the generator to the back and masked the noise. Shouldn’t draw attention.”

Addy handed them both hot mugs of coffee, her voice quieter than usual. “Thank you… for doing all that.”

Sawyer met her eyes, the shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “In this world,” he said, voice low and gentle, “keeping each other safe isn’t a favor. It’s just what’s left of being human.”

Jay chuckled softly, rubbing his hands near the fire. “I like him. He’s cautious. We’ll need that.”

Addy forced a smile, sitting down beside Sawyer as he set his rifle on the table. The three of them fell into silence, the fire snapping between them.

Outside, the traps rattled once in the wind — faint, metallic, hollow.

Addy’s stomach tightened.

It was probably just the storm.

Probably.

* * *

Addy sat on the couch, her fingers wrapped tightly around the mug. The fire popped softly, throwing shifting shadows over Sawyer and Jay as they stood near the window, voices low but tense.

Sawyer’s jaw clenched as he stared out the window. “Those men are still out there,” he said finally, each word sharp as broken glass.

Jay crossed his arms. “You don’t know that.”

Sawyer’s knuckles whitened around the windowsill. “Yes, I do,” he snapped, then inhaled through his nose, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the effort to control himself. “Men like that don’t just give up. They’re like wolves that have caught a scent. I’m just saying I don’t know if it’s safe for us to stay here.”

Jay’s weathered face hardened as he shook his head, the scar along his jawline catching the amber firelight. “And go where, exactly? Those woods out there are a killing field; no cover for miles except bare trees and frozen mud. The next town’s twenty miles off. Out there, we’re exposed from every angle. Here, we’ve got solid walls, a stockpile of canned goods, and a fire that keeps us from freezing to death.”

Sawyer turned to pace across the worn floorboards, boots heavy against the wood. He ran a calloused hand through his dark hair, leaving it standing in agitated spikes. “And a big, bright chimney pumping smoke signals into the sky that screams we’re alive in here, nice and warm, just waiting to be found.”

“Better to be warm and ready than freezing to death halfway down the road,” Jay shot back. “You move her out there now, you might as well paint a target on her back.”

Addy’s head lifted at that. She hated being talked about as if she weren’t there, but she could see the fear behind both their words — two men who’d seen too much and knew there were no easy answers left.

“Jay’s right,” she said quietly. Both men turned toward her. “If they find us, at least we have somewhere to hide.”

Sawyer looked at her, torn. His instincts screamed move, but her voice, calm, measured, certain, made him pause.

Jay stepped closer to the map spread out on the table, tapping it with his finger. “Look, this place is defensible. The trees give us cover, and I’ve got a dozen traps set already. We hold our ground, reinforce the windows, and block the back entrance. If they come, they’ll have to walk into a funnel.”

Sawyer stared at the map, jaw working. “Do you really think we can hold them off?”