Liv huffed in amusement. “Let’s just say I’m happy I never had to pay off the credit card bill.”
I smiled. “I'mhappy you have breakfast and you’re willing to share it with me. How can I help?”
"You're a guest—just for today—so you can help by staying there out of the way."
I hadn’t been around a woman in a long time, and I’d missed this softer, feminine energy. She fired up the kettle on her camping stove, then emptied the sachets into bowls and set up coffee with powdered milk in mugs. She moved fast without uttering a word, and in no time at all, our breakfast was ready.
Instead of suggesting we eat at the dining table, Liv placed a bowl in front of each barstool and slid two mugs over to join them. She rounded the island and hopped up onto the spot beside me, resting her leg close enough to mine that our knees almost touched. A current of awareness moved through me as I lifted my mug and inhaled the aroma. “I still can’t believe you have hot coffee—steaming hot.” I took a sip and swallowed after the initial temperature shock.
Liv stirred the contents of her bowl and filled her spoon with granola. “I bought the granulated kind in bulk along with a ton of powdered milk. Fat makes it unstable, so skim milk lasts longer than full fat. You can keep it for up to ten years if you store it properly.” She took a bite of her cereal and chewed.
And she had that nifty little camp stove with gas canisters to heat her kettle. I stared at her in wonder, equal parts appreciative and in awe. “You’re a force,” I said, setting my cup down. "I’ve never known anyone like you.”
Her cheeks flamed with heat, but she didn’t try to hide it from me. "I got a bit obsessed with research,” she said. “I had a feeling the pandemic was going to be bad—notthisbad,” she added. "No one could have known that, but still. At least those preparations got Haruto and me through the first couple of years.”
Her smile disappeared at the reminder of her friend, and she laid her spoon in the bowl. She stared at me for a beat, then rested her elbow on the bench and brought her hand up to cover her eyes. It looked like a fresh wave of tears was on its way, so I reached across for her other hand and wrapped it up in both of mine.
It was the first time I’d touched another person like this in a long time, and the sensation of her soft skin stirred something in me. “You saved him," I said, keeping my voice low, my attention on her, "then he saved you. The two of you got this far because you stuck together, and you were able to recognise what the other one needed at just the right time. I never knew him, but I'm a hundred percent sure he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way—and I'm just as sure you deserved that kind of friend.”
She shuddered and kept her eyes covered, but the dampness trailing down her cheeks told me the floodgates had opened. I normally tried to avoid being the cause of a woman’s tears, but it felt like she'd needed permission to let go, and I didn’t want her to think she had to keep it together for my sake. I sat with her for a few minutes while she worked her way through it, keeping her hand in my clasp, wondering how often she’d been able to let go since the world had gone to shit.
When she finally calmed, Liv uncovered her eyes and blew out a loud breath. “Wow, I’m a mess.” She slipped her hand from mine and wiped her cheeks, gazing at me through reddened eyes. “You must be wishing you never came back here with me.”
“Not even close.” I picked up my mug and drank to help her feel more relaxed. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed human company until now, and I wouldn't care if she needed to cry all day to deal with her loss.
“I promise this isn’t normal for me,” she said, taking a sip from her cup. “I’m usually pretty stable, considering the way the world is now.”
“Don’t make excuses for being human.” I lowered my mug and grabbed my spoon to scoop up some granola. “I’d be more concerned if you weren't upset.”
She looked at me for a beat as if deciding whether I was being sincere, then gave me a vague smile and shifted her attention to her breakfast.
We ate and drank in silence for a while, and when she was done with her food, Liv pushed her empty dishes away and looked at me. “Haruto showed me a magazine article this morning that took his interest,” she said.
I swivelled on my seat and gave her my full attention. “About?”
“Wait here. I’ll show you.”
Liv jumped off her stool and headed for the green recliner that didn't match the rest of the decor. She slipped a magazine from the side pocket and opened it to a marked page.
I pushed my bowl aside to make room for it, and she came back to lay the magazine in front of me. “Here,” she said, indicating a full-colour, double-page spread. She returned to her seat, and I picked up on a thread of excitement in her voice as she explained. “It’s an off-grid, fully self-sufficient house with everything you could ever want or need. Five bedrooms, massive living areas. Gardens. The works.”
I spared her a glance, then focused on the article, my interest building as I took in more and more of the details. Every feature in the home had been carefully thought out and built to the highest level. Insulation, heating. Security fencing all around the two-acre property. There were water tanks, an extensive orchard, solar power, and heavy double gates at the entrance. We could set up there for good—with plenty of room left over to create more housing and invite others if we wanted to build a community.
“Have you considered that people might already be living there?” I asked, looking up from the magazine. “The original occupants or others like us?”
She nodded and rested her hands on the bench, toying with her thumbnail. “That’s my main concern.”
“Tell me about the other ones."
“I have maps of the entire state, but no physical address for the property.”
Depending on the size of the town and how far apart the acreages were spaced, it could turn out to be an issue—but we had unlimited time to search and could use a house in town as our base while we eliminated one street after another. “What else?”
“It’s on the eastern coastline, a six-hour drive from here." Her gaze shifted to mine. "You said cars are complicated. What does that mean?”
“You know those post-apocalyptic shows where they're still driving them around ten years after the big event? Fuel starts to go off after a few months. It causes issues with the pistons during ignition, the engine while you’re driving. I carry jumper cables and swap cars whenever I find one with keys. In general, though? They’re not reliable.”
“So... your car won’t necessarily get us all the way there?”
