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“There are herbs you can rub on the meat to help the flavor. And it doesn't dry out if you sear it first then cook it slow.”
“Huh.”
Finishing the meal seemed to improve his mood. He leaned back against a tree trunk and breathed deeply.
“I suppose this is life now,” he said, looking around. “Nights by the fire. Slow mornings.”
“We need to move to higher ground,” Sarah said, dousing the fire. “The radiation is less dense up there.”
“We have no decontamination abilities out here,” he pointed out. “I'm going to be eating irradiated food, drinking irradiated water. There is no medical treatment available. If I can't take the radiation, it doesn't matter.”
“It will matter if we can get to another city.”
“The nearest one is a month away at least, and there are mountains in the way.”
“There are tunnels,” Sarah reminded him. “Underground. Free of radiation. You'll be exposed less down there. I can bring you food and travel with you.”
William shook his head, curtly rejecting that idea. “A month of stumbling around in a dark tunnel, hoping not to get hit by stray transports.”
“If we could get you on one of those transports, you could be at the next city in days, not weeks.”
“Or...”
“Or what?”
William scratched his beard. “Maybe I can survive in the wild. There was a scientist who thought that slow and repeated exposure to radiation could lead to a certain resistance to it.”
“I don't know what a scientist is, but that sounds like a bad idea to me.”
“I've never had any ill effects from the radiation, even when I've spent several days in the wilds. It's possible I have some natural resistance to it.”
“It's also possible that your armor and the regular decontamination saved you from sickness,” Sarah said pragmatically. William's sudden desire to take risks with his health struck her as strange. He had always been so careful, so compulsive about anything to do with safety.
“I'd rather live above ground and hunt and live than scuttle through tunnels in the hope I get to another city.”
She did not understand why he was insisting on what seemed to be a suicidal strategy. “But...”
“No arguments,” he said sharply. “We'll keep heading north.”
“Why? Is that where you want to be buried?”
“Don't you give me attitude,” he growled. “The cities have failed. It's time to survive as best we can in the wilds.”
Sarah would have argued, but she realized there was little point. William seemed determined, and given the trauma he must have suffered seeing his home summarily vaporized, she could understand how he would prefer not to return to another city.
What he did next shocked her thoroughly. He began pulling at the straps of his armor, removing both the vest and long pants, leaving only his thick brown cotton pants and vest underneath.
“What are you doing?”
“Embracing nature.”
“But...”
“No buts,” he said firmly.
She was worried about him. She had never seen the effects of radiation, but given that the city people had blocked themselves away from it with thick walls and mega domes, she gathered it was not a pleasant fate.
“If you want to kill yourself, you should just do it,” she said abruptly.
“Excuse me?”
“You'll die without your armor. You'll die if you try to live wild.”
“Your parents didn't.”
“My parents carried the mutation.”
“They carried it, but it's recessive. It was expressed in you, but not in them. And they survived long enough to make sure you got to adulthood.”
He had a point, she supposed. But having seen the horror with which city folk and William in particular had regarded radiation exposure, she had a hard time accepting that he had genuinely simply stopped worrying about it. It was more likely that he felt lost, and being lost, figured his life did not matter as much. Grief did strange things to people, made them reckless. She would have to keep a close eye on him, lest he hurl himself into the jaws of a big cat or try to swim in rapids.
“And just so we're clear,” he continued, “you're still mine.”
She snorted with amusement.
“I mean it, young lady. You've made your choice to stay with me. The rules haven't changed.”
“Yessir, of course, sir,” she said without really meaning it.
His brow rose at her. “You think you can get away with attitude?”
Something low in her tummy tickled with excitement. He was keen to assert his dominance, every part of his body was testament to that. He stood up, his shoulders back, his chest thrust forward, his dark eyes locked on her with the intensity of a predator.
A little giggle escaped her as he came around the fire and made a movement as if to catch her. He certainly was more agile without his armor, for although she made to scuttle away, his hand came down on the back of her neck hard and strong.
“You are a little brat,” he said, drawing her toward him. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back against his body, the thick ridge of his cock prominent through his pants. She squirmed instinctively, feeling that hard thickness sliding between her cheeks.
