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“Let me see what type yours is.” Stern expression on his usually playful face, Canaan held out a hand. He nodded as I held up my older model smartphone. “I’ve got you.” He grabbed a charging cable from the hall table near the door. “We’re drowning in chargers, and loaning you one is the least I can do. This one should work in the car too.”
“Thanks.” Pulling my jacket tighter around myself, I headed back into the chilly night and the waiting newer model sedan from the ride-share app.
“Back to base, boss?” the driver asked as I slid back into the car. The man wore a jaunty wool hat and had a heavy Chicago accent with an accommodating demeanor.
“Yep.” I located a USB port near the backseat where I was sitting. “Is it okay if I plug my phone in here?”
“Of course, boss.” He turned to nod at me before putting the car in gear. “There’s water and some snacks back there too.”
“Appreciate it.” I wished I could order him to drive all the way to Kringle’s Crossing. I wouldn’t make it by midnight, but it would be worth the five-hour drive to see Zeb’s smile. However, that meeting in the morning loomed large.
Zeb had been right that I loved my job. I was good at it, and I played a necessary role in national security. At that moment, though, I hated it, hated the priority it had to take, hated the time away from Zeb, and the delay in talking things out with him.
However, the job wasn’t something I could walk away from either. While I was desperate for the chance to finally make things right with Zeb, I still hadn’t found a magic wand that could change the realities of military service. I wanted to fight for us, but that meant asking Zeb to accept all of me, job included. After all the hours awake on the frigid transport flight, I had something of a plan there, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough.
Step one, however, was getting my phone functional again, and as we sped back toward base, my phone powered up with two percent battery life. Predictably, a rush of messages came in one after the other, the product of days without service.
A bunch of baby pictures from Aunt Lucy, Paige, and Gabe all came in at once. I scrolled pictures of the twins that made my chest tight and achy, accepted New Year’s wishes from friends stationed in other time zones, and deleted spam from various online merchants as other messages continued to load. When a message came in from Zeb, my pulse sped up like an inner drumroll.
I’d half expected him to not message at all, but he’d written, more than once even. A few more pics of the twins, one of him holding the ornament I’d given him as a present, and then a message from yesterday showed up as well.
I’m not sure when you’ll see this, but when you’re back, something is waiting for you at 1111 North Clover Lane.
Oxygen suddenly in short supply, I read it again, trying to make sense of the words. Was this a scavenger hunt? A clue to something else or a waiting message? Or Zeb himself? I didn’t want to let myself hope too hard, so I took some steadying breaths.
“Okay back there, boss?” the driver asked, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“I’m good. I think.” If this turned out to be a joke of some kind, I was going to legitimately weep. I was hungry, exhausted, and emotionally depleted, but no way could I ignore Zeb’s message. “Change of destination.”
Thirty-Two
ZEB
New Year’s Eve found me in a new location in a new state but with the same livestream tradition as the last several end-of-year celebrations. Even though I was alone in an unfamiliar place, it was hard to feel lonely with record numbers of watchers and an active chat scrolling by.
“And that’s a wrap on our review of the new Space Villager drop.” Leaning forward, I spoke into my microphone, hoping the tinkering I’d done with the sound settings helped to mitigate the echo some viewers had noted earlier in the evening. I’d packed my little car full of all my most essential computer equipment with just enough room for some clothes. Priorities. “Happy New Year shortly to my fellow East Coast Americans and the rest of the world’s time zones as well.” As I said world, I wondered for the millionth time which time zone Atlas was in. Was it already New Year’s there? Was he missing me? But I couldn’t dwell too much on the possibilities with an audience to entertain. “Thanks again for tuning in for this livestream with me and for the patience with my new setup. I’ll iron out the acoustics in my new location soon.”
