Page 77 of Last Light

Even more tired than me.

I move down to wrap up his ankle, which is purple and swollen. “You hadsomechoice. You could have let me do more of the work. There are ice trays in the freezer. I filled them up, so we’ll have ice tomorrow to put on it.”

“Sounds good.”

When I’m done, I get under the covers beside him, and Travis turns off the light.

He smells clean. Not really like Travis.

I lie beside him. Part of me wants to scoot over and snuggle, but that’s not what our relationship has ever been like. I’m not sure how Travis would react, so I don’t risk it.

He asks, “How you feelin’?”

“What? Oh, I’m fine. Still kind of crampy, but nothing too terrible.”

“Good.” He pauses for a minute before he continues, “How d’you feel about stayin’ here for a couple of days?”

I’m so surprised I turn my head to stare at him in the dark. “What?”

“We don’t have to. But I was just thinkin’. With my ankle. Gonna be tough to keep us safe on the road. So I thought maybe we should... rest up a bit here before we start off again.”

I’m breathing heavily. I’m not even sure why. I don’t know what to say. “You think we can afford the delay?”

“Don’t know. No way of telling when that guy left or how fast the drove is moving. But won’t be any good to rush if I can’t keep us safe. This ankle needs to get better.”

“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense. And Maria did say she was going to find some people to send with the message too. They might have better luck than us.”

“Right. We don’t have to,” he says again. “I know you think this road trip is already endless, so maybe you don’t want to delay—”

“I don’t mind,” I cut in, not liking something I hear in his voice. “It’s fine. We can stay here for a couple of days. We need to get your ankle better. And we’re both really... tired. We can stay here. Surely we can spare a day or two. Droves stop and pillage every town they pass. That’s got to take a lot of time.”

Travis’s body relaxes beside me. “Okay. Good. Let’s do that.”

We lie in silence for a while.

It occurs to me that Travis might want to have sex. He had that hot look in his eyes earlier. But he doesn’t make a move on me. Doesn’t even touch me. I’m comfortable right now and don’t really feel like getting hot and sweaty.

Plus cramps don’t add to a sexy feeling.

If we’re going to stay here for a couple of days, we’ll have plenty of time for sex tomorrow. Assuming my period doesn’t put him off.

“Too bad we can’t watch TV,” I say randomly after a few minutes.

“Saw a little one on a shelf in the main room, but all we’d get is fuzz. No cable or broadcasts anymore.”

“I didn’t even see any books in the house. I wonder what this guy did all by himself. It’s too bad. I wouldn’t mind having a book to read.”

“You can read your book of poems.”

“I know.” I smile and turn on my side to face him. “I’ve got most of them memorized anyway. I’ve seen you reading it a couple of times. What do you think of it?”

“It was all right.” He’s staring up at the ceiling. “Some of ’em were good. Some I couldn’t figure out. How come you like ’em so much?”

“I don’t know. I just do. I had a really good English teacher in ninth grade. Miss Jenson. She was really young—just a year or two out of school—and she made poetry come alive for me. So I guess that’s what really got me started with them.”

“I liked the one about the guy who kills his wife.”

I frown as I think through the poems in that book. “Which one? ‘Annabel Lee’?”

---