“You okay?” Julien glances at me, one hand loosening on the steering wheel.
I peel my fingers from the seat, forcing them to relax in my lap. “Just worried.”
“About?”
“How suspiciously easy this has been.” I gesture out the window at the empty countryside rolling past. Fields without farmers to tend them. Abandoned tractors rusting in the sun. “Like we’re the last people on earth.”
“Worried you’re stuck with just me for company?”
“Could be worse.” My cheeks burn as I rush to add, “I mean, at least you know what you’re doing.”
He doesn’t respond, but I catch that almost-smile again, the one that tugs at the corner of his mouth before he smothers it.
The silence stretches between us, not uncomfortable but heavy with things unsaid. Like, are the others at Pine Lake already? Has Amelia’s condition worsened? Or maybe I’m the only one worrying too much.
I twist my fingers together, anxiety crawling up my spine like hungry ants.
“They’ll be fine,” Julien says. “Cameron knows the way. Rosa will take care of your sister.”
“I should be with her. She’s always been my responsibility. It’s hard to kind of let that go…”
“And who takes care of you?”
“I-I don’t need?—”
“Everyone needs someone.” His eyes stay fixed on the road, but his words dig into me. “Even you, Dakota.”
My name in his mouth still sounds strange. Careful, like he’s testing how the syllables feel. I turn back to the window, waiting for the inevitable moment everything changes again.
We drive another ten minutes before the car’s engine begins to sputter. Julien’s hands tighten on the wheel.
“What’s wrong?” I straighten in my seat.
“Fuel gauge is acting up.” He taps the dashboard display. “Could be nothing.”
But it’s not nothing. The car limps another quarter mile before the engine coughs, hiccups, and dies. Julien coasts to the side of the dirt road, bringing us to a stop beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient oak.
“Perfect timing for lunch.” He kills the ignition, voice casual like this was the plan all along.
“We’re out of gas, aren’t we?”
“Low, but not empty.” He opens his door. “We’ll find another car after we eat.”
I follow him out, stretching my stiff limbs. The sun sits high overhead, warm against my skin despite the spring chill. We’re surrounded by rolling hills, a patchwork of abandoned fields, and encroaching forest.
No houses in sight. No people. No dead.
And no cars.
Julien spreads a blanket on the ground and gestures for me to sit. “Your dining room, madam.”
“Very fancy.” I snort, lowering myself to sit cross-legged.
He unpacks canned peaches, beef jerky, and crackers. “Eat.”
I accept a can of peaches he’s opened. The sweet syrup coats my tongue, so delicious that it makes me close my eyes in momentary bliss.
We have to enjoy what we can.
