Page 63 of Last Light

We can’t spend the night in a town if it’s dangerous.

We’ll just have to wait on the sex.

Once we leave the road, the afternoon is uneventful.

It’s late and getting darker when Travis says, “Probably have to camp tonight.”

“That’s okay. Maybe we can find a stream or something to refill our water bottles.”

“Keep an eye out. We can go a bit farther before dark.”

He’s been driving on an old dirt road we found since it’s going in the right direction and allows us to stay protected by the woods. I peer through the trees, but the last light of the sun is blocked by the hills and the woods, and I can’t see very far into the distance.

After about fifteen minutes, I reach out to touch Travis’s arm. “Look. Up there. Is that a driveway? Maybe there’s a cabin or something.”

It’s impossible to know whether it’s a driveway, but there’s definitely a turnoff from the old road.

Travis approaches it slowly and then shrugs and turns. “Might as well check it out.”

The dirt drive leads us up to a cabin, exactly as I hoped. The cabin is tiny and dilapidated, and it’s obviously empty.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“I don’t know. We can check it out. Not real secure, but it’ll be better than sleeping outdoors.”

The cabin is just as worn inside as it is outside. It never had a bathroom or plumbing of any kind. Never even had electricity. But the log walls are thick, and there’s an old trunk that Travis can move over to block the door.

He only starts to relax when he sees that there are makeshift wood shutters he can close from inside to block and secure the two small windows. “Someone must have been livin’ here for a while after things got bad. Why else would they make these shutters?” He closes up one window and nods approvingly. “This’ll work. Not as good as a second floor, but it’ll do.”

“Okay, good. Well, don’t lock us up in here until we eat and go to the bathroom.”

We bring in the most important of our supplies—just in case someone comes by during the night and steals the Jeep—and then we have a quiet meal of canned corn, green beans, and tuna. None of it is warm since Travis doesn’t want to risk a fire, but we mix it all together and season it with salt, pepper, and hot sauce, so it’s not too bad.

Then we go to the bathroom, brush our teeth, and wash up a bit in a barrel outside that collects rainwater.

“It’s gonna be pitch-black in here as soon as I shut us in.” Travis is working on the other shutter. “Better light a couple of those candles.”

I do as he suggests as he barricades us in.

It feels strange after he shuts the door. Dark. Close. Nothing but walls around us and the flickering of the candles.

There’s a bare mattress on the double bed, so I’ve spread our sleeping bag out over it. We took an extra blanket from one of the houses a couple of days ago, so we can cover up with that.

I stand in the middle of the room.

Travis comes over to stand in front of me. He’s smelling pretty stout since we haven’t been able to bathe since yesterday. His face is shadowed, making the angles of his features sharper, stronger.

“You okay?” he asks softly.

I touch his chest over his shirt.

“Layne.”

I’m not sure what he means when he says my name like that. Maybe it’s a question. Maybe a warning. Maybe a rasp of relief.

“Are we safe?” I ask.

He hesitates only briefly. “Safe enough, I think.”

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