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One of them is the exact model of the one in our barn—not all that surprising since it used to be a popular model. Jackson pops the hood and carefully disconnects the pump we need. He also takes some of the other parts so we’ll have backups.
He’s actually grinning as we load them into our storage compartment.
Maybe because I’m happy. Maybe because it feels like a miracle. Maybe because Jackson is smiling. But I do something I never would have expected to do.
I throw myself at him in a hug.
He hugs me back. His arms tighten around me almost bruisingly as he swings me halfway around toward the ATV. My face is buried in his shirt. He’s big and hard and strong and smells hot and natural. Like Jackson.
It’s longer than it should be before we pull apart. I’m flushed and self-conscious, and he clears his throat and stares at the ground.
Shit. Why did I do that? Our relationship has never been like that.
“Now we’ve got to find a pharmacy,” I say, trying to move us past the weirdness. “There’s got to be one around here somewhere. Is there a town anywhere close?”
We study the map again, and that helps. We find a town about eight miles east, so we set off toward it. The area is so deserted we decide it’s safe enough to stick to the road. We’re not familiar with this region, and we don’t want to get lost.
Before we reach it, we pass a strip of what used to be stores. We stop and check the old signs. A restaurant. A laundromat. A pop-up fireworks store. And a Tractor Supply Company.
“Too bad we don’t have room for big bags of chickenfeed,” I say, looking at how much is available under the half-fallen building.
“We don’t really need it, and think about how much gas it would use to cart all that back.”
“Yeah. Too bad there isn’t a pharmacy.”
“We’ll keep looking.”
We do scrounge around in the wreckage and find some tools that might be useful. Then we keep going toward the town we identified.
We’re about a mile away from the town when something terrible happens. The ATV sputters. Jerks. And then rolls to a stop.
“What the fuck?” Jackson mutters, staring blankly down at the controls.
“We know it’s not out of gas. Maybe it’s an easy fix.”
I don’t know where that optimism comes from. We lucked out with the tractor parts, but that doesn’t mean anything else is going to go well for us. But Jackson gets out and pops the hood.
“It’s the drive belt,” he says, sounding tired but not upset.
I get out to peer at the engine with him, although there’s no way I’ll be able to identify anything in it. “That doesn’t sound too serious. Can you fix it?”
“It’s not really something that can be fixed at this point. We need a new one.”
“Oh.” I swallow, suddenly realizing what this means. “Oh. So we’re stranded in the middle of nowhere?”
He wipes sweat from his face with the bottom of his T-shirt and closes the hood. “I bet I can find one at that Tractor Supply store. They always stocked a few ATVs in those stores, and they don’t need to be working. Just have a belt we can use. Should have thought of it when I was back there.”
“Oh. Okay. It’s only a couple of miles back. Should we just walk?” I’m immediately relieved since it’s a pain but clearly not a crisis.
“I don’t want to leave our vehicle here on the side of the road, especially with the tractor parts. Do you mind staying here? I’ll get there and back as quick as I can.”
“No, that’s fine.” I don’t like the thought of us splitting up, but I’m more concerned about him walking all that way alone than I am about me sitting here doing nothing.
His face twists as he straps his rifle to his back. “I’ll get back as soon as I can. Take out your gun. Don’t wander off. Don’t pee. Don’t close your eyes. Don’t do anything but sit here and keep guard.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a child, Jackson. I know how to defend myself.”
“I know.” His jaw is still working with tension. “Shoot anyone who gets anywhere close. Don’t take any chances. We don’t know what’s out here.”
