Page 56 of Citadel

“Okay. Good.” There’s nowhere to sleep but on the ground. I use one end of the blanket to lie on and wrap the rest of it over me, using my own bag as an uncomfortable pillow.

Cole sits down on the rock he was sitting on before. He’s less than a foot away from where I’m lying.

I close my eyes, exhausted and worn and confused and scared and totally wired. The world feels like it’s whirling behind my eyelids.

“Just so you know,” I say into the silence. Even the fire isn’t crackling much anymore. “I am still into you.”

“I know you are, baby,” he murmurs. “But I get why you don’t trust me. Maybe you will again one day.”

“I… don’t know. I’d… I’d like to, but I don’t know if I can.”

“We’ll see. Don’t worry about it for now. I’m not going anywhere.”

For some reason, the low, gruff murmur of his voice settles me. I close my eyes again, and this time the world doesn’t spin.

I’m asleep in just a few minutes.

8

When I wake up,I’m hugging Cole’s leg.

There’s no other way to describe it. I’ve scooted closer to his body in my sleep and for some reason reached out to hang on to his ankle, hooking my arm around it in an attempt to draw it closer to me.

I’ve never known myself to be a snuggler before. Tyler used to say that he liked how I always stayed on my own side of the bed. So maybe it’s merely fear. Neediness provoked by circumstances. I’m not a clingy person, so I really shouldn’t be clinging to Cole in my sleep.

When I blink and lift my head slightly, he’s gazing out into the woods. It’s still dark, the fire mostly burning embers now, but it feels like it’s late into the night. Definitely past halfway.

He probably should have woken me hours ago.

“I told you to wake me up.”

“I was gonna soon.”

I have no way of knowing if that is true or not. I groggily push myself up into a sitting position. “Well, I’m awake now. So you can get at least a couple of hours of sleep.”

He shifts his eyes back to my face, but I can’t read his shadowed expression. He nods without a word and stands up, stepping away from our small camp until he’s out of sight. I move into the position he was seated—on the rock with my back against a convenient tree trunk.

He returns shortly, so I assume he just peed. He lies down where I was sleeping, using my bag as a pillow the way I did. Rolling on his side, he turns away from me so I can’t see his face.

I assume he closes his eyes. His body is perfectly still. But he doesn’t snore or roll over or use the blanket.

So I cover my legs with it instead, keeping a close eye on the surrounding woods and ready to wake Cole at the first hint of any trouble.

There isn’t any trouble. Nothing happens at all until, just as dawn starts to lighten the sky at the horizon beyond the trees, Cole clears his throat and sits up.

“Did you get enough rest?” I ask since I’m still not convinced he actually slept.

“I’m good.” He slants me a quick look. “Thanks.”

Our morning routine is quick and quiet. We dress, go to the bathroom, wash up quickly in the stream, and eat some jerky and split a tomato. Then we return to the hill where we had a vantage point on the gang’s camp.

They’re still there, only a few of them up and moving yet.

We wait until they set off and follow at a distance. They soon move out of our range since they’re in vehicles and we’re walking, but they seem to be keeping to this same highway, so there’s a good chance we can catch up with them again when they stop.

They stop four times today—each time in abandoned small towns or farms where they’re clearly looking to scavenge food, gas, or provisions. I’m not sure how much success they have, but each place is pillaged clean by the time we arrive.

That night, after the gang camps and we verify that there’s no realistic way of getting past those guards, we make another camp. Cole kills and skins a rabbit, and we roast the meat on the fire and then boil more water. Cole still isn’t talking much, but it’s not a bad evening.

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