Page 41 of Last Light

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THE DAY PASSES UNEVENTFULLY. We don’t encounter any occupied towns, but we also don’t make very good progress because the road is so torn up by the earthquakes in the area. We’re constantly having to drive off road and find a way beyond the trenches and debris.

It’s midafternoon when Travis says we should keep our eyes open for gas, and we soon run across an old farmhouse with a two-car detached garage that doesn’t look too damaged.

There are two cars in the garage—an old pickup and a sedan. We refuel, and I walk into the yard so I can go to the bathroom behind a tree.

I’m zipping up when I notice something at the bottom of the yard.

“Hey, Travis!”

I hear a grunt, so I know he’s listening.

“There’s a stream down there. We should check it out to see if the water is clean enough to boil and fill our bottles.”

He joins me with the plastic bag that holds our empty bottles, and we walk down to the stream, leaning over to cup our hands and check the water.

“Pretty good.” Travis takes more water in his hands and splashes it on his face. We fill the empty bottles. We’ll boil the water in them off later when we have time for a fire. Then Travis reaches over his shoulder, grabs his T-shirt—one of his new ones, a plain black crewneck—and pulls it over his head.

I watch as he gets on his knees and splashes water all over his face, arms, and chest, rubbing down his armpits and his forearms.

“That’s a good idea.” I have to tear my eyes away from the water streaming down his bare chest. “I can go get the soap and towels, and we can wash up for real—if you think we have time.”

Travis straightens up, watching me with a wet face and thoughtful expression. He looks up at the sky and then back at me. “Might as well call it quits for the day. We can stay here for the night.”

I try to hide my pleasure at his words. “Really? This early? We could probably go another hour before it gets dark.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, but this is a good house. Might not find another later on. And this one has the stream. We can clean up and then maybe make a fire out back here. We can boil water for our bottles and make us a good dinner and then spend the night inside.”

I’m almost hugging myself now. “That sounds great. I’ll go drive the car over here instead of hauling everything down.”

“I can go get—”

“You’re all wet.” I’m already running up the hill toward the house where we parked the Jeep. “I’ll get it.”

“Take your gun out!” Travis calls to my back. The reminder sounds automatic—second nature—rather than urgent. He’s splashing himself with water again.

I slow down and do what he says. The vehicle is parked in front of the house, completely out of sight of the stream. We haven’t seen another person for hours, but there’s no reason to be foolish.

I am foolish.

I’m smiling and humming to myself as I reach the Jeep. I’m thinking about taking a bath and sitting by a fire and eating dinner with Travis. Maybe we can finally make the mac and cheese.

I’ve got shampoo now. I can really wash my hair.

I slide behind the steering wheel, putting my gun down in the passenger seat.

Then I notice that we left the back hatch open earlier, so I get out to close it.

“Lookee here. Told you I heard a girl talkin’.” The voice comes from behind me. Male. Rough. Unfamiliar.

I whirl around and see two dirty, bearded men approaching.

I have no idea where they came from. They weren’t around before. But they’re right here now. Only a few feet away from me.

I reach for my holster instinctively, but it’s empty so I grab my knife instead. “Stay back,” I rasp, my voice closing up with panic.

I’m used to dealing with hostile men, but these two surprised me. I’m not mentally prepared. I’m so shocked and frightened I can barely breathe.

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