Page 25 of Zinnia and the Zombie
He recognized the determined set of her jaw, and sighed. This was not a battle he could win.
“Very well,” he conceded. “But you will alert me immediately if you experience any dizziness or if the pain increases.”
Her smile was swift and bright. “Deal.”
After a brief argument, she agreed to sort through what he recovered while he actually entered the wreck. Most of the contents were unsalvageable, but he managed to recover some emergency rations, a portable illumination unit, and severaltools while she sorted through several of the larger containers he retrieved.
“What about this?” She held up a small device with a cracked display.
“Atmospheric analyzer,” he identified. “Potentially useful if we can repair it.”
She added it to their growing collection of salvage. “You know, on Earth, I’m considered pretty self-sufficient. I can change a tire, rewire a lamp, even fix my own plumbing. But this…” She gestured at the technology surrounding them. “This makes me feel completely out of my depth.”
“You’re adapting well,” he said sincerely. “Many would be catatonic with fear in your situation.”
“I would be more terrified if you weren’t here.” Her lips quirked. “Or maybe if you weren’t a giant golden alien.”
“An understandable reaction,” he agreed gravely, and she laughed.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“We should transport these materials to our new location,” he said, gathering the most essential items. “We can return tomorrow for anything remaining.”
He fashioned a crude carrying sling from salvaged fabric and they began the trek back to the garden building. She moved more slowly than before, her injury clearly taking a toll, and he watched her closely, alert for any sign that she was on the verge of collapse.
When they reached the building, he insisted on carrying their supplies up the stairwell. “Rest here. I’ll return for you.”
To his surprise, she didn’t argue, simply nodding and sinking down onto a fallen column. Her compliance concerned him more than any protest would have. She was reaching her limits.
He quickly transported their salvaged goods to the rooftop garden, but on his return, he found her with her head leaned back against the stone, eyes closed.
“Zinnia?”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Just resting my eyes. Lost more blood than I thought, I guess.”
He lifted her into his arms and she let her head rest against his shoulder with a quiet sigh.
“This is becoming a habit,” she murmured as he carried her up the stairs.
“I find I don’t mind,” he replied truthfully.
By the time they reached the garden, the sun was high overhead. He set her down on a shady stone bench near a reflecting pool, then knelt down to examine her arm.
“Does it pain you?”
“It’s more of a throb now. The sealant helps.”
“I have pain suppressants if?—”
“I’m okay,” she assured him. “Really. Just tired.”
“The rest. I’ll find a good spot to create a shelter and gather more food.”
He started to rise, but she reached out and put her hand on his arm.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For taking care of me today.”
“I will always ensure your safety,” he replied, the words emerging as a vow.
