Page 28 of Chaos Destiny
“Probably.”
“You should ‘probably’ stop. It’s not fair to Ari or your daughter. They need you. In a world like this, they’ll need you more than ever.”
As if a lightbulb went off over his head, he stepped back and ran a hand over his hair. A sigh sank his shoulders, and his brows came together in a low arch.
“You’re right,” he said.
I leaned against the nearest thing I could find—a questionably stable metal shelving unit—and folded my arms, needing a barrier between our bodies.
“What caused the separation between you and Ari?” I asked. “Can’t it be fixed considering our current circumstances?”
“I’ll tell you if you eat with me.”
“Gage, you just said?—”
“I know. Eat with me anyway. Outside of Ari and Thandie, you’re the only person I find myself wanting to talk to. You can’t deny that you’re a sort of comfort, Doc.”
It was a nice sentiment.
But I didn’t feel the same way.
I’d had the chance to save the world. I’d grown up watching all sorts of doctors and scientists come to the aid of the people in my favorite movies. I’d read about them in my favorite books. Yet, at the end of the day, real life didn’t hold its punches.
Sometimes, a person could do the right thing. They could make the right choices, employing logic and experience, only to end up watching the world burn alongside those who’d foolishly fed the fire—those who’d assumed that fanning the flames would have prevented them from being singed.
“This is a group of good people,” I reminded him. “Won’t hurt to get to know at least one more.”
“I understand that, but for now,” he jerked his head toward the door, “let’s grab lunch. Can’t tell you the last time I said that. Feels surreal, to be honest.”
“For what it’s worth, I hope you get to say it for a long time.”
“So do I, love.”
“Maybe don’t call me that.”
He shrugged, feigning more innocence than Thandie. “It’s just an expression. We say it all the time down under.”
His eyes glimmered.
I held back a smile, peeled myself off the shelving unit, grabbed my two-way radio, and called for someone to bring two meals to the clinic. Generally, I ate behind the building, where a picnic table had already been set up pre-doomsday. If it rained,I ate tucked away in an empty room. However, the door that led outside was close to Ari’s room, and I was in the mood for a bit of sunshine. Also, the prospect of sharing an empty, closed-in space with this man brought feelings of discomfort wrapped in something that felt too much like excitement for my liking.
“Follow me,” I said, walking past him.
He cleared his throat. “With pleasure.”
On the way outside, I called Carolyn to check on Thandie. In the background, we heard fussing and crying, so I had Carolyn bring Thandie to lunch with Gage and me. The minute Thandie saw Gage, the crying stopped, and she virtually leaped out of Carolyn’s arms, reaching for him.
When he took her, the look on his face told an entire story, and I hoped, for both our sakes, that whatever was going onbetweenus was nowbehindus.
Lunch was some kind of white bean and Vienna sausage stew. Meat was a rare treasure, but beans wouldn’t be enough to get us through the winter. Hopefully, it wasn’t a harsh one, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we were hit by the very first hurricane-tornado-blizzard in human history.
Gage ate with one hand while he held Thandie in his other arm. On account of her not feeling well—as well as all the new faces, no doubt—she lay quietly against his chest, her eyelids low as she studied me.
“She doesn’t feel warm.” He pressed the side of his face against the top of her head. “A little clammy, yes, but clammy’s good, right?”
“It might mean she’s breaking the fever,” I said.
“God, I hope so. The last thing I want is for Ari to wake up only to be hit with a sick Thandie.”
