“He farmsbeets!” he said. “I’d rather let the zombies getme.”
“Beets are delicious. And anyway, who would you pick? Since clearly you’ve given this considerable thought and done all kinds of research.” I leaned back, making my swing go higher to matchhis.
“I haven’t, actually, I just made it up right now,” he said, his eyes on mine as he swung faster. “But clearly the only correct answers are Alexander the Great, Dracula, and McSteamy fromGray’sAnatomy.”
I laughed out loud. “Those are the correctanswers?”
“Alexander the Great for, you know, strategy. Dracula because they can’t kill him if he’s alreadyundead…”
“And McSteamy to patch up yourouchies?”
“Uh… Yes.Yes, Silas, let’s say that I picked the iconic hot doctor for purely practical medicalreasons.”
“Oh, I see how it is.Oh,Hot Doctor McSteamy! The world could end tonight!” I simpered, fluttering my eyelashes. “I don’t wanna die un-fucked!”
He giggled, a light, free sound as he swung higher and higher. “No shit! I’m no idiot. But listen, good luck to you and Dwight. I’m sure you’ll make the most of whatever time you have, also.” He cocked his head. “I wonder if he's a top or abottom.”
“That's… not…ugh.”I shuddered and helaughed.
“Lancelot might be gentler,” Ev said, deadpan. “If you’re into that kind ofthing.”
My mind stuttered, wondering if gentle was somethingEvwas into… ornot.
“There’s only one way to settle a deep, intellectual debate like this one,” I told him once my brain was back online. I swung myself higher and the chains above my headcreaked.
“Youmean…?”
I nodded. “Playgroundrules.”
He looked at the flat, open space in front of us and then back tome.
“Whoever jumps the furthest wins?Jesus,” he muttered. “You do remember that I just bruised the shit out of my knee a couple of weeks ago?” But he, too, started swinginghigher.
“Oh, shoot, I forgot.” I grinned at him evilly. “Does that mean Iwin?”
He laughed, breathless. “No fucking way. You’re stronger but I’m lighter. Evenodds.”
“Okay, count of three then,lightweight.”
He pumped his feet, frantically gaining height as I counted and then finally, atthree, we both let go andflew…
Andfell.
I landed on my hands and knees, with Ev sprawled inelegantly on his front a few feet away — in a nearly dead-even tie, not that either of uscared.
The whole situation was so absurd — Officer Silas Sloane, thirty-eight years old, trying to win a zombie debate by playground rules — that I flopped over on my back, stared up at the blue, blue sky and laughed so hard I cried. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed that hard or that long, just completely giving myself over to it… unless maybe it was the night we met, a few weeksbefore.
We lay on the grass sniffling and chuckling a few minutes later, watching the clouds roll by and the tops of the trees become gilded by the sinking sun. The whole worldglowed.
“The golden hour,” Ev said softly, and I knew he meant the light and the atmosphere,but…
This time was exactly what I’d needed and not known I needed. This interlude where I could just relax and remember why I loved this town and the peace that could be foundhere.
I couldn’t have achieved this on my own. I’d needed Ev to bring me here. I reached a hand across the cool grass and let my pinkie brush his. “Thankyou.”
“For what? Beating your ass at playground rules?Pfft.Anytime.”
I chuckled. “Okay, you didn’t win. It was a tie. Atbest.” I took a breath as he giggled. “I meant for bringing me here. For being exactly what I needed. If the zombie apocalypse comes tonight, this was a cool way to spend my lastday.”
