“This is the boondocks, babe. I can get you the geographical coordinates if you’d like. It’s called theEnd of the World Enduro. Basically, it’s a week-long attempt to survive off the land. Started as a family, er, a father-son survival thing. Then it was Cain and me competing to see who could finish first.”
“Could you definesurvival thing?”
“My father threw me into it when I was about twelve. Almost died the first time. I’ve been coming back ever since,” he says as if it’s no big deal.
“You almost died,” I repeat.
He nods and picks up some of the gear. “You up for this?”
“I still don’t know whatthisis.”
“Wherever I go, you go, right?” His tone is rather blasé, like this is a trivial detail.
“It’s my job to follow my student for the remaining weeks of the program, but I imagined a guy like you would own an estate or a penthouse apartment. We’d go to the gym, maybe a few meetings, and?—”
“Live in the lap of luxury? Not going to lie, I own a few things that stand in contrast to the cabin where I grew up, but this is the real deal. Something I do once a year. You in?”
I puff an exhale. People of all ages and dressed in various shades of camouflage and tactical gear mill around. They each have backpacks similar to Connor’s. Clouds blanket the sky, the air is thick with anticipation, and the hum of energy makes the hair on the back of my neck lift.
Connor winks at me. “Remember, you’re my fiancée. We’ll be in this together.”
“I don’t have anything to prove.”
He’s quiet for a long moment as if thinking about what I said, sifting it through the rough childhood with his father, the rivalry with his brother, and his need to be the king of the mountain.
“I don’t either. Except to you,” he says after a beat.
“Me?” I ask, not filtering my surprise.
“That I’m more than the bad-boy brute you met that first day at Blancbourg.”
I could tell him that I’ve already seen sides of him that have delighted and astounded me. Instead, I play along. “Okay, Mr. Wolfe, let’s see what you’ve got.”
“The End of the World Enduro is a challenge for survivalist types and people who want to prove that they can do hard things.Really hard things, like being set loose in the woods without anything but the barest basics.”
I shake my head, not fully understanding, but Andrew’s comment about the Enduro now makes sense.
“Imagine the world with no airplanes, cars, or technology. No electricity or running water. No modern conveniences. No money. How would we survive? It wouldn’t be with football wins or good manners.”
“Good manners are always essential.”
He nudges me with his shoulder. “So how would we survive? By sheer grit, by knowledge, by skills.”
“And you have these things?”
“Never leave home without ‘em.”
“And for some reason, you thought it would be a good idea to drag me into this? You look at me and think I’m a suitable companion to survive in the wilderness for a week? Are there bears? Wolves? Dangerous creatures in the forest? Are guinea pigs going to come after me?”
He cracks a smile and pulls me close, kissing the top of my head. “You have me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I survey the surroundings.
“Cat, when you look at me, what do you see?”
I guppy my mouth, not prepared to answer that question.
He turns his hands up and says, “I know, I know. A devastatingly handsome gentleman. A prize specimen. A hunk who’s both intelligent and generous. Please stop. You’re being too kind.” He mock laughs at his facetious brag.
