Page 46 of Hero

I frown at the tone as much as the words. “You can’t stay up all night. There’s always a risk of danger, but one of us will be enough to stand guard and watch for it. We can take turns and both get a little sleep.”

“You’re assuming I can sleep.”

“Yes, I’m assuming that. You’ve got to be exhausted.”

“I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look fine. He looks tense again—the soft affection of earlier only a temporary interlude.

I understand what anxiety can do to a person, even someone whose reason and rational thinking is telling them otherwise. I understand it better than most. But I’m not used to Zed acting like this. He’s always been calm. Unflappable. As solid as a rock.

Pushing down my frustration, I say softly, “Well, I’m fine too. And I like to do my part of the responsibilities. So why don’t you take the first shift, and I’ll get some sleep. You can wake me up about halfway through the night so you can close your eyes for a few hours.”

He meets my eyes with a brief nod that relieves me. He’s going to be reasonable after all.

“Okay. Good.” I shift from foot to foot. “I thought today went pretty well. Didn’t you?”

“Yes. It was as good as we can hope for.”

“And tomorrow we’ll start walking. Obviously, we’ll have to go slower on foot, but there’s no reason to assume we’ll come across any more trouble than we did today.”

“Right.” He doesn’t sound particularly convincing, but I’m not entirely convinced myself.

It is what it is. This trip is never going to be safe. We have to do it anyway.

I miss that look in his eyes earlier when we were dancing. I want to see it again. But I’m also slightly relieved that it’s gone since the memory of it still gives me jitters. I have no idea what else to say, and Zed is clearly not in a chatty mood. So I clear my throat. “Okay. I guess I’ll get some sleep.”

“Sounds good.”

He helps to make a space for me in the bed of the truck. It’s not as secure as the cab, but it’s better than the ground. I get into a sleeping bag and put my head on a pillow. Buddy curls up at my feet like normal.

I close my eyes. The world spins behind my eyelids the way it sometimes would after long road trips in my childhood. I breathe through it and try to clear my mind.

I’m tired enough for sleep to catch up to me eventually, and I drift off visualizing the look on Zed’s face as we were dancing.

* * *

When I wake up, it’s almost dawn.

Zed didn’t wake me up after all.

This isn’t a good start to the morning, and it doesn’t improve as the day progresses. Zed is tense and silent. Rina is tired and kind of crabby, which is entirely uncharacteristic of the girl and surely a symptom of undefined nerves. Even Buddy seems rather downcast. Maybe he’s getting tired, or maybe he’s picking up on our negative vibes. I do my best to stay upbeat, but I’m not used to being the person who cheers the other two up. By midmorning, I’m exhausted from the effort of keeping my voice cheerful and coming up with topics of conversation.

Eventually I give up.

The hike might have been less discouraging if we weren’t driving yesterday. The contrast in how much slower we’re going today is definitely a downer. We stick to the same back roads we were following yesterday, and our route is just as empty of towns and other people.

It’s like we’re entirely alone in the world.

Rina gets tired quickly, so Zed gives her breaks by letting her ride on top of all our stuff in the cart. He and I take turns pushing the cart while the other one has a gun at the ready in case we run into danger. He did a good job putting the cart together. It pushes as easily as something so heavy can move, and it’s mostly going uphill that’s difficult. A couple of times, we go up hills so steep that it takes both of us to get the cart up, but most of the time we manage without a problem.

Midafternoon we’re taking a break and eating a snack while Zed and I study our map. There’s a small town coming up on the road. Like all the others in this region, it’s likely to be abandoned, but that means there will be empty houses. Shelter.

We decide to head to that town and, if there are any standing structures, stay there for the night.

Having a goal helps. Rina keeps talking about what kind of house we might find there and whether there might even be a bed to sleep in. I keep up with her stream of conversation because Zed is still too quiet.

I don’t like it. It worries me. I’m the one who occasionally falls apart. He never has. Not even once.

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