Page 54 of Worth the Ruin
“Rest in peace, Uncle Charlie,” I say quietly.
I wonder who Charlie was. Why did he live up here above a workshop? Who lived in the big house before it burned? What had made him take the road out instead of trying to survive? To be fair, he could just as easily ask me why Ihadn’t, why I evenworried about surviving at all. For a long, long time, there wasn’t much hope. There was only fear and death and surviving day-to-day, hour-to-hour. So why had I kept going? I…don’t know, really. For Jonah, of course, but beyond that, I’m not sure why I fought so hard all this time. Jonah would say it’s just because I’m a stubborn asshole, and I guess part of that is right. Even so, I never would have survived long enough to finally see some good in the world again at Haven without Jonah. He kept me going, he pulled me out of the deepest darkness a person can be lost in. I miss him so much and wonder if there’s ever a chance of us being together again. I really don’t know, so I don’t dwell on it for now, instead focusing back on my original mission: food.
I leave Charlie on the balcony and hobble the rest of the way to the kitchen, poking around in the cabinets and the small pantry. There’s a decent amount of non-perishable stuff still here, so I’m relieved we won’t be surviving solely on jerky and protein bars for the next couple of days. There’s a large bedroom decorated half in dinosaurs, half in princesses, with a twin bed on either side. My heart twists. He must have had this set up for his niece and nephew. I try not to wonder what happened to them. I gently close the door and poke my head into the other doorways down the hall: a bathroom and a closet. I hop to the master bedroom at the end of the hall and cock my head as I read what’s scrawled across the wall above the now empty-bed frame in sharpie:
I couldn’t go on without them.
Crack the code and you deserve my stash.
God speed.
MMBBKGJGMJRNR
“What the fuck?” I mutter. I shake my head, not in the mood to deal with this bit of crazy right now. I’m still not feeling one hundred percent, my ankle is throbbing like a bitch, and I’m freezing even in the hoodie and sweats Traeger found for me. I move to the walk-in closet. There are a handful of clothes hanging on a short rack, shoes lined up neatly underneath, but the majority of the closet is taken up by floor to ceiling cabinets. I open one and gape before smiling widely.
“Jackpot.”
“Melody?” Traeger calls from the living room.
“Back here!” I yell, throwing open the next cabinet and the next.
“What are you doing in there? You shouldn’t be up.”
He stands just outside the closet, arms crossed over his chest.
“I’m fine,” I say, rolling my eyes, but I can’t stop smiling.
“What’s with the grin?” he asks slowly, sounding a little confused and a lot apprehensive. I guess that’s fair.
“I’m grinning because Uncle Charlie out there—dead guy on the balcony, by the way if you hadn’t noticed yet—had a Bulk-N-Buy membership and he wentshoppin’.” I beckon him inside and he strides forward, eyes sparkling with excitement. He sucks in a harsh breath when he steps up beside me and I glance up at him.
“Holy fuck. Tell me this isn’t what I think it is,” he says quietly, eyes sliding closed and head bowing.
“Are you praying?” I ask with a laugh, so giddy by what I’ve stumbled upon that any trace of anger or any of that bullshit that I’ve been holding onto for all these weeks is nowhere to be found.
“You bet your ass I am,” he says, and, after finishing apparently, opens his eyes. He reaches forward to grab one of several white boxes from the middle shelf. “Twinkies, Melody.FUCKINGTWINKIES.”
I laugh again, shaking my head, and he grins back. There’s an entire shelf of Twinkie boxes, another of soups and other canned stuff—veggies and fruits, and corned beef hash, which most people find disgusting but I happen to fuckinglove. Another shelf is full of chips and trail mix and beef jerky.Somuch food, the kind I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.
I hop as gracefully as I can to the next cabinet and throw it open.
“Oh my God! Pop Tarts!!” I cry. “AND SODA!”
“Shut the fuck up.” Traeger rushes over and stands just behind me. “They’re probably flat as hell…”
“One way to find out.” I reach in and tear open one of the cases like a feral animal, clawing at the cardboard in desperation. I grab two cans and turn, handing one to Traeger. “Cheers.”
“Slàinte Mhath,” he says, making me arch a brow. He merely gives me a sly look and takes a long sip. “Fuck that’s good. Or it probably isn’treally, but it is. It soooo is.” His eyes slide shut again and he shudders in pleasure, a low groan rumbling in his chest. I take a sip and understand exactly what he means, nearly whimpering when the first heavenly taste touches my tongue. I don’t care if it’s expired. I don’t care if it isn’t as bubbly as should be. It’s sweet and a little fizzy and brings on a heavy helping of nostalgia.
“Best. Day. Ever.”
He laughs and snatches my can from me before I know what he’s doing and can stop him.
“Hey!”
“You get your ass back in bed and get your foot elevated. I’ll bring a picnic.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
