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“I know a place.” She took Zeke and his tree to the empty cabin with the three clay ducks, staying to the shadows and moving quickly and quietly. Inside they sat on the floor with their backs to the wall and moonlight streaming in through the kitchen window.
“Where was it?” he asked, rummaging in his pack.
“Top floor of HQ. That’s where Orrin lives.”
He stopped and turned to her, brows drawn. “What happened?”
“We sparred and then he sent me back to my naughty corner to find my inner peace.” She wanted to run a finger over Zeke’s brow and ease his concern. He smelled of earth and pine and it was such a relief to be able to talk to him again, to see his familiar handsome face.
“That’s all?”
“Call Tres first. We can talk later.”
That satisfied him. He stuck his hand back in his pack and came up with the phone. It was industrial grade, terrestrial cell and satellite. Nothing fancy to look at, a physical keypad, small analog screen and an antenna. But for all its smarts it could still be blocked by geography or human interference.
“Here goes,” he said, turning it on. “This needs to be worth upsetting Cadence.”
The screen lit up. She scooched closer, her shoulder resting on his arm, their hips aligned, legs outstretched. She’d make things right with her prickly roommate but if they had no signal, this job would be over, and she wasn’t ready to be stymied by such a small thing as a missed phone call. She also wasn’t ready to give up her time working with Zeke.
“You can do it, baby,” he said, holding the phone so they’d both see the screen as the phone tried to find a network to attach to.
There was a stupidly tense couple of seconds where the handset scanned for coverage and they bent over its tiny green glow, faces almost pressed together, breathing synchronized. She’d never been so het up over such a small thing.
Then four little bars filled on the screen. Full signal.
“Fuck yeah.”
Zeke’s voice was oil over grit and gravel, and her belly bats ate it up like it was nectar, rolling around in ecstasy. He threw his arm around her. She lifted her face to find him looking at her with such heat all their urgency time shifted, the need to make the call slipped behind the naked hunger in his eyes.
She stopped breathing. Oh God. It wasn’t the phone call she was het up about. It was the idea that he looked as if he’d been waiting his whole life for her, that when he’d told Cadence Rosie was his life, he’d been Zeke telling that to Rory.
She touched his chest lightly, not sure what to say. Not sure what to feel, except turned inside out by the sudden soul-deep awareness of him.
He shook the moment off and dialed.
“May I take your order?” Tres said, in a perfect tip-me-big hostess voice, through the handsfree intercom. She followed up with, “About time. I was five minutes away from sending in a chopper.”
“No grace period?” asked Zeke.
“You have no grace full stop, you big jerk,” Tres came back with. “Status.”
“No specific findings to report.” Zeke said, looking to Rory for her confirming nod.
“Slackers. Next check-in,” Tres said.
“The jammer isn’t easy to get to. I don’t know if we’re going to be able to call back regularly,” Rory said.
“Find a way,” said Tres. “You have another month.”
“Two,” Zeke countered. “We’re safe. It’s strange but not volatile and we have no information we can use.”
“I don’t like it,” Tres responded.
Zeke’s arm tightened around her, but his voice was light with Tres. “The only reason we’re doing this at all is because of what happened to Cal and me the first time and this is not like that.”
“You both could’ve died the first time.”
“That was fourteen years ago. You were a little kid,” he deflected.
