Page 24 of The Last Man on Earth
“It’s been…forty-eight hours?” I say, doing the calculations in my head. “If they were coming—“
“They’re coming!” he yells. “Damn. Do you ever think positive?”
“Positive thinking doesn’t change reality, Villain. We need to be realistic.”
“About what?”
“Where we’re sleeping tonight, for one. I don’t wanna get eaten up by bugs while I’m trying to sleep.”
He leans back, tilting his chin to the clouds, refusing to look at me. “Somebodygottabe coming. Maybe I should…fuck. I don’t know. I could find the little box thing and put it out in the open to get a better signal.”
I rub at my temple as a headache blooms behind my eyes. “That’s not how it works. The black box isn’t a cell phone. It doesn’t ping off towers. It’s…complicated.”
His eyes narrow. “Too complicated formydumb ass, huh?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You ain’t got to.” He blows out a breath. “Then what the fuck can we do?”
Frustration is bleeding through every syllable. I think for a minute, tired from mincing my words. “We can start by figuringout our food and water situation. We might need to start rationing. And we need to make tonight more comfortable. It’s hell sleeping on the ground.”
His knuckles go white around his water bottle before he hurls it across the clearing. The hollow plastic clatters against the earth, the sound echoing in the stillness, making me jump.
He exhales sharply, then mutters, “My bad, shorty. You know how immature I am.”
His sarcasm cuts me deeper than I wanna admit to myself. Before I even realize what’s happening, the tears are streaming, hot and shameful. My chest heaves with sobs I’ve been choking back ever since yesterday when he walked into the forest and didn't come out for hours. I thought he was lost forever, that he'd left me to fend for myself in this strange place.
I don’t want him to see me like this, to get the satisfaction of knowing he affected me, but I can’t stop.
I guess I needed this.
When I finally calm down and glance up at him, he’s watching me.Reallywatching. No smirk. No expression at all, really. Just a deep, intense stillness that feels too intimate for my comfort.
“What you need me to do?” he finally asks.
I wipe my cheeks with the heel of my hand, trying to steady myself. “I need you to prepare for the possibility that we might be here for a while. And…” My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “Understand that I may look calm on the outside…I’mtrainedto look calm on the outside. But inside…” I press my hand against my chest. “I’m terrified. And when you fly off the handle, or argue with me when I’m trying to help, or cope, it just makes it worse for me.”
He doesn’t move or speak. He just stares. The silence stretches so long, regret curls itself around my thoughts.
But then he nods once, his eyes softening slightly. “I’ll do the best I can.”
It feels like I’m seeing the first crack in his armor.
And that crack gives me more comfort than I want to admit.
Because the truth is, I need him out here. I needs his protection. I need him to treat me gently, even though we’re in what seems like the roughest place on earth. I need to feel safe. With him.
And that scares me almost as much as being stranded.
Chapter 13
Villain
The sun is stillhangin’ in there while I got my happy ass out here dragging logs across the clearing, grunting with effort. It took me a few hours to chop all this damn wood, all Paul Bunyan with it and shit, and now my shoulders are burning and my legs feel like I squatted 500 pounds. But I keep at it, laying these heavy ass logs parallel in the dirt.
Ariana is sitting her pretty self in the shade watching me, having no idea how much sweat and energy this shit is costing me. But at least she ain’t looking at me with that sad, pitiful face anymore.
I prop a long branch against the trunk of the biggest tree out here. It’s wide and steady, which means it’s a good anchor for what I’m trying to do. I’m in my head calling back to my childhood with this shit, back to Legos and Lincoln logs. Shit, Jenga, too. I wedge the thick end of the branch into the crook of a root and lean the other side against the bark. It’s shaky at first, but I adjust the angle until it feels right.
