Page 29 of Unrest
“Pepper,” came Rylen’s soft voice. “Pep. We gotta go.” When I felt his fingers rub my cheek, down to my chin, I opened my eyes. He watched me, crouched close. Sounds of people moving about quietly filled the dim space around us.
Neither of us moved for a minute. I tried to search his eyes to see if he was upset with me for being . . . I don’t know . . . forward or whatever last night. But he just sort of gazed at me, like he was wondering something himself.
“Get up, Amber,” Tater said gruffly from behind me. That broke the moment. I sat up, back muscles aching, and looked toward where Remy sat at the edge of the couch. One hand clutched her belly, one rubbed her eyes. Judging by the way she hunched into herself, she was feeling like shit.
“I just gave her another dose,” Tater said, securing his tightly rolled sleeping bag. “And J.D. said we can take the cranberry pills.”
“‘Kay,” I told him.
“You can use the bathroom,” Sean said as I staggered to my feet. “Just bring a glass of water to pour down to make it flush.”
It turned out my body needed most of what it took in, because I hardly urinated. I put on clean underwear, two new trash bags on my legs, and warm clothes that had dried in front of the fire. My muscles were extremely stiff and sore, and damn it, I was hungry again. Nobody asked for more ramen, and J.D. didn’t offer. I couldn’t blame him. A deal was a deal, after all.
I really wanted to boil some water to wash my hair, but there wasn’t time now. The guys were itching to get back out there. I pressed Remy’s clean sasquatch holders into her hands, along with two new trash bags, and she got up to dress too.
“We’ve got about a foot out there now,” Matt said, looking out the window. “This is gonna suck ass.”
“A foot?” I practically yelled. It snowed another six inches over night? My heart began a sickening acceleration at the thought of being out in that.
“We’ll be all right,” Rylen promised. “Just ten or twelve miles to go.”
I gaped. That was a lot!
“Ten miles?” J.D. asked. “There’s nothing within ten miles of here except . . .oh. I thought it was closed.” A light bulb seemed to go off in his head as he imagined the Army base. Rylen gave an apologetic look to the room.
“Have you seen anything going in or out of there?” Texas Harry asked him, now that the cat was out of the bag.
J.D. shook his head. “Nothing. But then again, I’ve been stuck in here for, like, two weeks, so I haven’t seen anything. Not exactly near any major roads.”
Texas Harry nodded. “All right. Everyone say their good-byes and gear up.”
I didn’t expect to get emotional when I hugged Sean good-bye, and J.D. too, but these days you never knew if, or when, you’d see people again. I felt weepy and depressed for numerous reasons as I layered up, eternally grateful for the new winter stuff, though I pulled the warm hat down over Remy’s head instead of my own. Geez, only she could make the ugly thing look cute.
J.D. gave Remy and I another two pairs of socks to put on, too. We had to work to shove our feet into the sneakers.We look like a pack of hobos, I thought as we gathered together.
The only thing that kept me walking toward the door when they flung it open was knowing we’d had dinner last night, plenty of water this morning, and a good night of sleep. Because every single ounce of what we’d gotten last night was going to be needed today, and then some.
On the plus side, it was no longer snowing and we weren’t being battered by brutal winds like yesterday. On the down side, Matt had underestimated. At least fifteen inches of snow covered the ground.
I had to lift my legs high and push down to break through a top crunchy layer of ice that had formed overnight, and it was soft and fluffy underneath. I stared down at it with each step. My sneakers were coated in white, and so heavy. I moved behind the guys so I could walk where they’d trampled already.
Hours of drudgery passed. I couldn’t feel my feet or hands, my ears or nose, then my legs or arms. The guys grunted with effort, and nobody called cadences. Cloud cover kept us from being able to keep watch of the sun’s movement. I had no idea how long we’d been marching, and though it felt like we’d gone ten miles already, it could only be one. I tried not to think. Not about anything at all. Because even thought took energy that I didn’t have.
“Whoa,” Tall Mark called from the front. He halted and was staring ahead with his binoculars. “What the hell is that?” My heart became a hammer in my chest as I stared out, squinting.
Texas Harry snatched the binoculars to take a look. All I could see was a dark line in the distance. Too short to be buildings. Maybe a fence of some sort?
“Solar panels,” Texas Harry murmured.
“That many?” Mark asked. “It’s like a field of them.”
Texas Harry pressed the binoculars into Mark’s chest and beamed a red-cheeked grin at the horizon. “We made it, folks.”
I knew better than to let out a cheer—we needed to stay quiet—but I fell to my knees, overwhelmed by those beautiful words.
Low chuckles and back slaps floated in the air above me, and I felt Remy fall to my side, linking her arm with mine. We fell back together into the snow and hugged, laughing like maniacs. We were running on sheer glee at that point, because our energy stores were in the negative. I had no idea how we’d made it. All I knew is that I never, ever wanted to walk, march, jog, or run any length of mileage again. Not even for exercise for “fun.” Give me a pilates video any day.
“Base is on the other side of those panels,” Texas Harry said. “Let’s wait ‘till the sun drops before we move forward. There’s nothing between here and there to cover us.”
