Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“I do too, Em.”
“But even if they don’t need a place to go, they’ll be worried about me. They need to know I’m okay.”
“I’ll deliver the message.”
“If nothing else, it could be a good rest stop on your way back to Kansas.”
“Yes.”
She was silent again and my pain felt all-encompassing, a heavy tarp weighing me down as I sensed the minutes that we had together filtering through an unseen hourglass. But I had to force myself to be glad about this unexpected development. It was hope in the midst of hell. How could anyone pass up a commune with plenty of food and water, overlooking the ocean with security at the gate? And if she didn’t go now, and then later we found that her parents weren’t okay for one reason or another, would there be a second chance? Not necessarily. Like Leon had said, the point where they’d have to turn people away was likely fast approaching.
“You could come too,” she whispered softly. “Instead of Kansas.”
But I couldn’t. I wasn’t looking for safety. I was looking for purpose. I was looking to help those who’d been left behind the borders. To help the helpless. To balance the scales that had been tipped because of me. “I can’t, Em.”
She nodded and I could feel her sorrow. I took her in my arms, and she clutched me too, holding on while we still could.
We made love by the glow of the lamp, our hearts beating in tandem, staying as quiet as we possibly could so as not to be heard. And as we lay together afterward, breaths stilted as the sweat dried on our skin, I thought I felt the wetness of her tears on my chest and barely held back my own.
“This wasn’t supposed to hurt,” I murmured into her hair. “All this time, I was looking forward to saying goodbye to you, and now…” My joke fell flat, the pain in my voice belying the attempt at levity.
Even so, she let out a soggy laugh but gripped me tighter.
Hours later, when Leon woke me to take over the watch, the batteries in the lamp had died and the room was cast in darkness.
forty
Emily
Day Eighteen
Tuck had insisted on traveling with us to the first barrier we’d be crossing through on our two-day walk to San Diego. He’d suggested coming with us on the journey, but that would have meant backtracking several days to my parents, and I’d much rather he get there as quickly as possible. And if necessary, direct my parents to where I was.
“I’ve traveled this route several times,” Leon reassured him. “We’ll be there before sunset tomorrow. I got her.” And then he patted his waist where he’d shown us the weapon he now carried.
The world already felt scary and unfamiliar, and that morning I felt brittle and on edge. I wanted to feel hopeful. I wanted to experience gratitude at knowing there was a safe place in the midst of all this madness, and that I was headed there now. But the only thing I could focus on was the pain of knowing Tuck wouldn’t be with me.
Morning mist swirled, birds wheeling above as the checkpoint came into view. The people who were guarding it had moved concrete roadside barriers into the center of the road and two men with hulking muscles stood in front of them, guns strapped to their bodies.
Tuck moved slightly closer to me as we approached, his protective nature ever present in his actions and the way he instinctively put his body in front of those he meant to block from harm. Oh God. How will I say goodbye? This isn’t right. Please tell me you can’t let me go, that nothing means more than I do. That whatever happens, you’ll return to me, and you’ll stay.
But I knew he wouldn’t, because it wasn’t true.
And part of me loved him all the more for the fact that he was going out into a dangerous world, hell-bent on helping others. I’d vowed that morning as we’d left the recording studio with backpacks of food and water that I wouldn’t beg him not to leave me. Because truthfully? I knew he might very well honor my request if I begged him hard enough. But I couldn’t let him remain with me out of obligation. It would eventually break my heart even more than it was already breaking.
Still, as Leon stood talking to the guards, who obviously knew him, I looked at Tuck, tearing up against my will. “Saying thank you for getting me to this point doesn’t seem like enough.”
“It’s more than enough,” he said, his knuckle trailing over my cheek. I turned into it but then turned away. I was barely holding on. If he touched me, I’d break.
“I can’t believe we made it here,” I said, voice as wobbly as the smile I attempted. “From that plane, all the way here. We did it. And now—”