Page 77 of Beacon

Then without warning, he starts to laugh too, his whole body shaking with his unexpected amusement.

My giggles change into helpless hilarity, so much that I can’t hold my position any longer. His cock slips out of me as we both collapse with laughter.

He pulls me into his arms, warm and strong and laughing andMack, and, for some reason, my laughter gets mingled with tears.

Mack doesn’t seem to mind. He kisses me and wipes away my tears, and he murmurs how much he loves me and always will.

We do eventually finish our interrupted sex—havingto move to the area rug on the floor to prevent the bed from being too loud from our enthusiasm—but that isn’t the best part of the morning for me.

Nothing will ever rival laughing with Mack that way.

Mack and I stay with the Carlsons for the next week so we can help them around the farm.

Ben gains strength faster than anyone could have hoped, but his leg is basically unusable. It’s going to be a long time before he’s able to do any of the farmwork, if he ever can at all. Chloe and Jimmy have to return to their own homestead, as they have chickens and pigs who won’t make it if left too long alone. So Mack and I help Greta cover the chores. They always have several people staying in their bunkrooms who help as well, and their neighbors are happy to lend a hand, so even after Mack and I leave, Ben and Greta will probably be okay to keep the farm running.

It’s kind of scary how one injury can threaten the well-being of an entire family, but farming takes a lot of work. Without Ben in full form, it’s going to be harder for them all.

So Mack and I do what we can to take the load off for a week. The delay is just as well. Mack hasn’t said anything about what he wants to do from here, and I’m a bit nervous to ask him for fear it might apply pressure.

We’re together now. It’s not just temporary. That’s the main thing I need to know. He can have time if he needs it to work everything else out.

The wait isn’t even hard for me. I’m so happy as I go through the chores and routines of each day that I find myself humming and reciting poetry to myself—something I haven’t done since Impact.

Maria’s crew has been sticking around too, dealing with the folks they captured (not very many) and patrolling the area to make sure there will be no retaliation or resistance.

There’s nothing. The gangs are still around, but their unity has been shattered. So they’ve mostly holed up, hiding out and licking their wounds and staying well within their territory at the border. They’ve lost their stockpile of supplies and gasoline, so they’re going to have to focus on survival for a long time rather than expanding territory.

That’s how it was for years after Impact before someone got ambitious and started gathering forces. It was mostly stable for a long time, and their presence didn’t significantly affect the well-being of the nearby farming communities. Maybe it would be nice to think we could get rid of the bad guys completely and make the region even safer, but that’s not a realistic goal.

Even Maria understands that.

The threat has been handled as well as it’s going to be handled with our current resources and manpower. Thework Maria organized is nothing short of a miracle in this area, and everyone who lives here knows it.

It’s the seventh day after the attack when Maria decides things are safe enough for them to leave. They’ve still been camping in one of the Carlsons’ pastures, and Mack and I have been hanging out with the women a lot in our downtime.

So it’s a little disappointing that they’re ready to leave. I’ll miss them. Once they’re gone, Mack and I will be all that’s left here of the folks from out east.

I wonder if that means it will be time for us to get moving too.

I don’t bring up the topic although it’s on my mind as Mack and I are lounging against the big tree near the campfire that evening. The sun is low near the horizon and painting the gray-blue sky with purple and pink streaks.

It’s beautiful. And a little bit sad.

I wouldn’t be able to articulate why.

Mack’s got his arm slung around me. He’s nearly always touching me when we’re next to each other now.

The women are telling stories of their adventures over the past year, and most of them are new to me and Mack, so we listen with interest. Mack is laughing a lot as he sips his beer—from a case we salvaged from the border and that Maria broke out for their last night here. His body is warm despite the cool temperature of the air and theground we’re seated on, and he’s shaking with amusement.

I snuggle into him, craving the feel of him this way like I used to crave sugar and caffeine.

Rose’s shoulder is healing well. She still has to move carefully, but she’s hoping for it to not cause her a lot of issues long-term. She’s finishing her tale of how they rescued a mother and children from a man who just barged into their house one day and took over, demanding they feed and take care of him and exerting his will through a loaded weapon. Although it’s a terrible thing to have happened, she’s made it clear from the beginning that the story ends well. She concludes by describing how, when they were getting him out of the house, the kids all rallied and pelted him with garbage from their compost heap.

Mack bursts out with more laughter at the description, and I catch Maria watching him with an unusually soft expression. When she meets my gaze, she gives me a quick flicker of a smile, and I know what it means.

She’s almost as happy as I am that Mack is himself again.

Fortunately he doesn’t see our silent interaction since it might have made him self-conscious. But he nuzzles the side of my head afterward as if he might have sensed something of what I’m feeling.

---