Page 31 of Nyx
“Not everyone eats meat.”
Understanding lights up his dark eyes as they meet mine. “Ah,” he says, and my irritation flares at the sound.
“Would you stop making that noise?” I snap, and his expression turns smug. “The point is, we need to prepare now before the winter catches us off guard. You knowit’s never consistent, and if we wait until the temperature drops, we might as well not bother doing anything.”
“What do you suggest we do, then?” he snaps back.
Elas huffs a laugh that straddles the line between amused and annoyed before saying, “What Ronanmeansis you obviously had an idea. How do you propose we prepare, and what is back at your camp that could help?”
“Well, for starters, there’s more dry food storage in my old apartment. You saw it, Elas. Beans, rice, oats, and flour, and maybe even some more of that powdered milk. We didn’t have room for everything.”
“Is it enough to risk using what little fuel we have?” Ronan challenges, and I roll my eyes.
“If you’d let me finish, I wasn’t done. Besides the dried goods, there are greenhouses. There used to be a ton of small ones in the camp… a dozen or more. But they ended up building bigger ones that could hold larger plants, and several of the smaller ones were disassembled and stored. The parts should still be there.”
Ronan is skeptical as he pulls his lips back, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Could you grow enough food in a single greenhouse to support the village?”
“For this many people? Yes. We can supplement what we have in dry stores and cans. Next year we’ll expand the garden and be better prepared, but this will get us by.”
“How do you plan on moving it?” He gestures towards the metal garage that houses our two vehicles. The SUV runs, but the damage from Elas and August’s adventures to Ljómur is significant. The van is in excellent shape, though the engine isn’t as powerful. It doesn’t drive as fast, and we have to be cautious on rough terrain.
“There were a few vehicles at the camp that might still run, and at least one truck. If we can’t get it to start, we’ll have to strap it to the top of whichever vehicle we take and hope for the best.”
Ronan deadpans me with that damn arched brow. “You want to tie a greenhouse on top of a van?”
“Adisassembledgreenhouse, yes. That’s a very important piece of information you’re neglecting to mention.”
Elas hums, deep in thought and ignoring our bickering. “Lillith is supposedly a decent mechanic. She talks about working on vehicles back on base. If the truck isn’t running, she might be able to fix it.”
“There are too many ‘mights’ and ‘maybes’ in this plan to make it a good one. You’re encouraging this?” Ronan asks Elas while gesturing at me. All of me, just the complete package, like he so often does.
Elas shrugs again and pats his stomach. “I can read between the lines about who thelarge appetitesare,” he says, tossing me a wink as Ronan scoffs. “Building up supplies for the village is never a bad thing, Ronan. I’m surprised you’re against this.”
“Well, he obviously can’t go by himself,” Ronan snaps, flinging a hand in my direction.
“Aw, are you worried about me?” His eyes narrow to dangerous little slits as he glares at me for an uncomfortable amount of time.
“It’s not justyou. Elas has apparently volunteered Lillith, which means Taryn will want to tag along as well.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” I say, pushing a hand through my hair and grimacing at the resistance of the knots in my damp, filthy curls. “She’s familiar with the camp.”
“I’m not sending two humans out there with only one person to protect them.”
“Okay, first, Taryn and I both know how to fight. We don’t need protection.” His mouth opens like he’s going to argue, but I talk faster and add another crease to his ever-wrinkling forehead as my fuse gets shorter. “Second—and this one is very important, Ronan, so listen closely—youaren’t sending anyone anywhere. You don’t rule over the people here. If I want to go to the camp, I’ll fucking go.”
“And takemyvan?” He inches closer, and I jut my chin into the air as I match his movement.
“Yourstolenvan, running onmyfuel! Which, might I add, you were also trying to steal!”
“You know what?” Our noses are almost touching, and the black in his eyes expands. “You should go back. Run away and crawl into your little rat hole and just stay there, see if I—”
“Enough!” Elas grabs us both by the scruff of our necks, like we’re no better than scolded children. He yanks us apart as if we weigh nothing, and really, the surprised, high-pitched yelp that follows could’ve come from either of us.
I’ll never admit to it.
“This was funny at first,” Elas growls, “but you two are a couple of turkeys out here, puffing your chests out to see who can be the biggest.”
“We know who’s biggest,” Ronan snarls, but quiets when Elas throws him a snarl of his own.
