Read No Shelter (#1) A Post-Apocalyptic Love Story Page 8
CHAPTER 8
Three days later, I wake to find Mary staring at me. We didn’t have enough water to wash Isaac’s blanket, so I’ve been sharing mine with him.
“Good morning,” I say, my voice thick with sleep.
“Good mornin’, beautiful,” she says, grinning as she sharpens her knife.
I smile back at her. “You have something you want to say to me?”
She shakes her head. “I’ve got nothin’… Nada.”
Mary’s Southern accent creeps through when she’s upset. She flips the blade closed and tosses it to me.
“That ones yours,” she says, and I realize she’s been sharpening my blade; the one with the jade handle my mother gave me shortly after we arrived at Whitmore.
It’s an unspoken rule that we each sharpen our own blades.
I flip the blade open and sit mesmerized as the light reflects off the tip. Isaac wakes and grabs the blade from my hand. He flips it closed and pulls me tighter to him. I can feel Mary’s eyes burning a hole through Isaac straight into the back of my head.
Though Mary is the last person in this cave I want to anger, I lay with Isaac a bit longer. I don’t want her to think she’s gotten the better of me with her intimidation tactics.
When I get up, Eve and Daedric are just getting back from setting more traps. Daedric sees me as I step out of the cave and tosses me a bunch of wild onions.
“Fry them up with the pigeon eggs,” he orders as he shoves past me.
Eve looks at me with a twinge of pity in her crystal-blue eyes.
“Watch where you’re going,” I shout back at him as he enters the cave.
“You need some help?” Eve asks me.
“Sure,” I say, though I usually refuse help with menial tasks like cooking and cleaning. I need the company. I need to know that not everyone in this tribe hates me.
We chop the onions and whip up the eggs in silence. Though Eve’s hands are trembling, as usual, the occasional smile she tosses my way seems genuine.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask.
Eve lowers her head. “Yes?”
I glance back at the cave to make sure we’re alone. “Have Isaac and Mary ever… been together?”
Eve’s hands tremble more violently and she nicks her finger with the knife. I grab her hand and wrap the cuff of my sweater around the cut.
“You okay?”
She nods though it’s evident her anxiety level is skyrocketing.
I didn’t know Eve before we found her bloody and beaten next to her mother’s ransacked grave two months ago. I don’t know if she’s always been this anxious. I do know the thing that calms her the most is when I hold her.
I pull her close. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
The violent tremble in her bones relaxes to an occasional shudder.
“Yes,” she whispers.
We pack our backpacks to head out: water, blankets, rabbit jerky, a blade, lighter fluid, and matches. Mary takes three blades: small, medium, and machete. Eve takes some leather straps, a toolkit, and a bundle of twigs for making traps. Daedric finds the baseball bat he left in the woods. Isaac packs a compass and his wits.
We stop to let Isaac rest his leg every one or two miles, depending on the terrain. He tries to hold my hand twice, but I keep rejecting him.
“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” he says, as we approach a dry bed of rocks, which used to be a stream.
I reach my hand out to help him across, but he doesn’t take it. A tinkling chuckle assaults my ears. Isaac glances back at Mary behind us. I can’t tell if he’s annoyed or embarrassed. He grabs my hand so I can help him out of the bed of rocks.
After six hours of rough forest terrain, we stop to rest for the night in the umbrage of an ancient oak tree.
“So, what’s the plan if we run into the Guardians?” Mary says as she tucks in under her blanket.
Isaac flashes me a look before he answers. “What we always do: we let Nada fight them off.”
“Yeah, I’m actually being serious,” Mary replies and I can hear the sneer in her voice.
She may be lethal with a knife, but I’ve got her beat in hand-to-hand combat.
Eve lays her blanket down next to Isaac and me. “I brought a slingshot,” she says.
“That will do a lot of good against their assault rifles,” Daedric says.
I smile at Eve. She hardly contributes to our conversations. She’s always afraid she’s going to say the wrong thing.
“A sling shot is still better than a bat,” I say, as I slither in under the blanket next to Isaac.
He slips his icy hand underneath my shirt and I jump. “What are you doing?”
“Just trying to warm up my hand.”
“Oh,” I say and I lay back down.
He traces the outline of my bellybutton with his fingertip and I try not to laugh. His fingers slide over my ribs and I grab his hand to stop him.
“Good night,” I whisper, my signal I’ve had enough.