Page 27 of My Apocalypse Mountain Man
He groans but pulls me closer. "Ignore it. Let Jim handle it."
"Jim is at Black Peak helping with their new setup."
"Then let Tom handle it."
"Tom's running supplies to Riverwatch."
"Then let the whole network collapse. I don't care. I have my wife in bed and I'm not letting her up yet."
I laugh and kiss him. "Five more minutes."
"I'll take it."
Those five minutes turn into ten, then fifteen, by which time we've gotten distracted by more than just cuddling. We barely make it to the radio station in time for the morning check-in.
"Mountain Station to all network nodes," I say into the microphone, slightly breathless. "Good morning, everyone. This is Goldfinch with your daily briefing."
The responses come back from six settlements now. Old Pines, Black Peak, Riverwatch, Harper's Point, Summit Station, and the new settlement at Clearwater. Nothing huge, nothing formal, just neighbors staying connected.
"Morning, Goldfinch," comes Janet's voice from Riverwatch. "Any change in that weather system you mentioned yesterday?"
"Holding steady. Should hit you by tomorrow evening. Nothing too serious, but batten down for heavy snow."
"Copy that. And congratulations again on the wedding."
"Thanks, Janet. How's the baby?"
"Growing like a weed. He’s already got lungs like you wouldn't believe."
After sign-off, Kole hands me coffee and settles into his chair beside mine. This has become our morning routine—radio check-ins together, then breakfast, then whatever the day brings.
"Tom's asking if we can help train that new communications officer at Summit Station," Kole mentions, reviewing yesterday's messages.
"The one who can't figure out antenna positioning?"
"That's the one."
"When?"
"Week after next, if we're available."
I consider it. The network has grown organically, settlement by settlement, and somehow Kole and I have become the go-to people for communication problems.
"We can do it," I decide. "But we're taking supplies with us this time. Last trip, we ran out of coffee halfway through."
"Agreed. I'm not helping anyone troubleshoot without adequate caffeine."
The day unfolds in a comfortable routine. We check the perimeter, work on repairs to the cabin's roof, and split wood for winter. Simple domestic tasks that would have bored me senseless before the apocalypse but now feel precious.
That evening, we sat on the porch watching the sunset paint the valley below in gold and orange.
"You happy?" Kole asks, arm around my shoulders.
"Deliriously."
"Even though it's not what you imagined? Before the world ended?"
I think about it. "Before the world ended, I was working in a cubicle, dating guys who were fine but not exciting, living a life that was comfortable but not fulfilling." I lean into him. "Now I'm married to a man I love, helping rebuild civilization one radio call at a time, living on a mountain with a hell of a view. Yeah, I'm happy."
