The bootlaces were stiff and the leather too, but the super thick socks helped take up the extra space and he watched in satisfaction as she took some tentative steps in the new footwear. “Jimmy Choo has nothing on these babies.” She took them off and put the wrecked sneakers with the rest of her clothes spread out to dry.
With his heart still racing, he pulled himself together. “I’ll change quick, and then I need to do some maintenance. Can you be my assistant?”
She laughed. “I guess you don’t have any other candidates, so sure.”
After he’d pulled on the remaining dry clothes from his pack and spread his wet garments next to hers, she followed him to the broken window. With her palm shielding the beam of her flashlight, she provided enough illumination that he was able to fit a black plastic bag over the missing glass with the roll of duct tape from his supplies. It stopped the cold wind from rushing in. Helpful, since he could see his breath puffing in the frigid air. He would have given a month’s pay to be able to light the small stackof dry wood in the stove, but that would be too much of a tip-off to their pursuers.
He then whacked the dust off the bunk mattresses, which caused them both to sneeze. Dusty or not, he couldn’t wait to fall into a much-needed sleep. Every muscle was crying out for food and rest and his rebuilt shoulder was clamoring. The telescope was crooked, but Gideon straightened the tripod and reattached it, then peered into the viewer before he gestured for her to look.
She squinted into the eyepiece at the sprawling countryside below them. A glimmering necklace of lights eastward caught her attention.
“The dam,” he said.
“Still holding.”
But for how long? The rivers were already close to capacity, overflowing in some places.
While she continued to scan for any sign of pursuit, he went on with his search. Below the telescope was a cabinet that he opened.
“Well, lookie what we’ve got here.”
“Blankets?” she squeaked.
He cheered as he pulled out two musty-smelling wool blankets. “Sure as shooting. And they’re nice and dry. You take them. It’ll help you sleep.”
She pushed one back at him. “Nope. Even stephen. One for each of us.” She wrapped hers around her shoulders. The fabric smelled of mothballs. He flung his on the top bunk.
The night sky grew impenetrable as the darkness became complete. With the illumination his penlight provided, Gideon locked the hatch through which they’dentered. Secure, a hundred-plus feet in the air. It would afford them an excellent view of anyone pursuing, but it created other problems too. If Al and Jerry or any of Bullseye’s people found them, would they have time to get down from their lofty perch, or would they be easy pickings? Pluses and minuses. Right then, the biggest plus was the fact that they were dry and out of the elements.
They each discreetly used a waste bucket, which had been a must for the fire-watchers since there was no plumbing.
He checked his phone. It was nearly six thirty, but it felt like midnight. No bars, which meant no messaging or calling. Hers wasn’t any better.
“Here.” He handed her a portable charger. “At least we can keep them juiced up and ready for the moment we have coverage.”
She plugged in and slumped on the lower bunk.
He longed to do the same, but if he lay down he’d be out like a blown candle. He stretched his depleted limbs. The moment had arrived to apply the old razzle-dazzle. “I’m hungry. You?”
She closed her eyes and moaned. “So hungry.”
“While I’m preparing our meal, can you see if there’s anything helpful in that box under the lower bunk?”
She sat up. “There’s going to be a meal? You better not be teasing about a thing like that.”
“Patience, young grasshopper.”
While he made his way to the tiny kitchen corner, she pulled out the darkened metal trunk from under her bunk. “Some maps, a flashlight, minus the batteries. An emptytin of cat food. And, oddly, a cookbook titledThree Hundred Sixty-Five Soup Recipes.”
“Excellent,” he said. “I only know how to make chicken noodle. I could use more ideas. Like how do you make that onion kind with the melty cheese on top?” The thought made his mouth water.
“No idea, but chicken noodle sounds divine right about now. Or really any kind at all.” Her stomach growled loudly to underline the point. His was complaining too. If only he’d known he’d be going from his survival class to diving into the freezing river, to climbing to the top of a fire watchtower in a matter of two days, he’d have done a more thorough job fueling up. And laying in supplies. He was carrying only the basics, and that wasn’t enough for two people. The list of items they were lacking was endless. But they’d enjoy one good dinner at least, and he found himself looking forward to her reaction.
“If you’d care to join me, madam,” he said grandly, “your dinner is served.”
She moved to stand at the small table. He gestured her into the rickety wooden chair, while he balanced on an upended crate. The tiniest sliver of moonlight sliced through the clouds and illuminated their dinner spot.
“I didn’t find any plates, so this will have to do.” He put a piece of tinfoil in front of each of them along with foldable metal forks from his camping kit.
