Page 57 of Worth the Ruin
Because if I’m being honest with myself, really, completely honest for the first time in a long time, I’m terrified of loving Traeger because I know if I lose him, it’ll be a hurt I can’t survive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
TRAEGER
I wake with a jerk,as I often do. Mel’s sitting in the chair by the window, rifle leaning against the sill beside her. We haven’t talked since the fight yesterday. I’d gone out and roamed around the woods for a good hour trying to work through all of the shit going through my head. I’d checked the perimeter, finding no signs of life or the undead, tagged a few more rabbits, and came back with bitter cold seeping into my bones. The temperature had plummeted drastically in just a couple of days, and I thank whoever or whatever might be out there listening that we’d made our escape when we did. If we’d gone into the water now…well things could have ended very, very differently. It always amazes me how quickly things can change, how a matter of days or even hours or minutes can make such a huge difference in the outcome of things.
If we hadn’t been delayed coming back from that tournament at the beginning of all of this…I shake the thoughts away, not liking to think about how things had been in those early days of the end of the world. It had been a time when people had been terrified, and fear made people do terrible and desperate things.
I sit up and rub my eyes, swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress on the floor. The fire’s roaring, the pops and crackles a soothing background soundtrack to our time in this little apartment, and the room is bright, but the light looks odd somehow. Off. I frown.
“So, do you want the bad news or the good news or the other bad news?”
Taking her answer from before, I say, “Bad news sandwich.”
“Bad news: A snowstorm rolled in during the night and dumped about four feet of snow on us.”
My eyes bulge and I lurch to the window. That’s why the light looked strange: the sun is flittering in through a thick waterfall of snow, reflecting brightly off the piles of it.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“Good news: Wynn and the others are alright. Wilson had one of his weird feelings about the weather and they decided to backtrack to one of the better equipped houses, just to be safe. Turns out, Wilson’s bad shoulder is a better meteorologist than the guy who used to be on Channel 9. He’s been in touch with Zimmer back at FOS, and everything is all good there. The other settlements too. Snow hasn’t hit them yet, but there’s a good chance it’s headed that way, so they’re all preparing just in case. Everything is all good.”
I rub the back of my neck. At least everyone was alright. Not the most ideal situation, but we’ll figure it out. Then I remember…
“And the other bad news?” I ask warily.
She sighs “It doesn’t look like it’s going to stop any time soon. We are good and snowed-in. Probably for at least a week, maybe more.”
“Jesus Christ.”
I hate the idea of being stuck out here, cut off from everyone and everything. I hate the idea of not being back at FOS ifanything goes wrong. I…don’t hate the idea of being snowed in with Melody. But I quickly push those thoughts away.
“Yeahhhh. So, it’s a good thing Uncle Charlie was stocked up and you caught all those rabbits.”
I exhale a long, slow breath, collecting my thoughts and making plans and backup plans.
“I’ll bring up some more wood from the workshop and pack those other rabbits in some ice to cook in a few days. We should be alright on power for a few more days too and I’ll go try to clear off the panels.” She nods. She looks like she might say something else, but turns to look back out the window.
This is going to be the longest week of my life.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
MELODY
The first dayof Snowmaggedon is…tense. We both seem to be at a loss for how to handle the situation or how to address the giant elephant in the room after our fight. I should tell him he was right. I should tell him that I’m sorry. I should just give in to everything clawing to come out, but I can’t. I don’t know why but I can’t make myself take that step off the ledge into the unknown.
So, instead of coming up with any kind of solution, we just stay tense and quiet all day, reading or trying to crack Uncle Charlie’s weird code on the wall.
“Fuck this,” Traeger finally grates, tossing an empty can at the writing and leaving the bedroom without a word. I frown, but when I hear banging and cursing from downstairs, I assume he’s gone to try to force the cabinets open. He comes back sweaty and in a worse mood than before, and takes a long shower after that. I slip out of the room to give him some space and make us both a plate of food.
The snow let up for a little bit in the late morning, but starts again in earnest by late-afternoon, dumping another two feet at least.
“We’re never getting out of here,” I groan. Traeger eyes the sky through the window, not arguing, which doesn’t make me feel any better. There’s no reason for either of us to keep watch during the night now—Bloodies don’t do well in snow and there’s no way anyone living could make it through this shit.
“So, guess we can both sleep now,” I say. We stare at each other for a long moment, then both shift our gaze to the mattress. I swallow hard but before I can say or do anything, Traeger grabs a blanket from the stack and a pillow from the couch, and settles on the floor beside the mattress.
“Traeger, you?—”
