The thought sits heavy in my chest.
“What now?” she asks quietly.
We both need to keep busy.
“Let’s split up, take stock of how much food and water we have. We need to find what weapons are in the house,” I tell the guys. “And I want you to know where all the exits are,” I say to her.
Alina holds up the knife. “Does this count as a weapon?”
“You can kill someone with it, so why not,” I reply before reaching out and tucking her hair behind her ear, needing to touch her, to ground both of us.
Alina breathes in slowly, her eyes sliding shut as her fingers clench the handle.
“You’re okay now,dikaya koshka,” I say as my fingertips glide down the curve of her cheek. Part of me is nervous too. It all feels too easy.
“I’ll look for food and water,” Alina finally speaks, her eyes opening but avoiding mine. There’s something she’s keeping from me. I can guess what, but I wish she would talk to me. For now, we need to take stock and secure the safe house. We can talk later when we’re more settled.
“I’ll check the exits,” I tell her as my fingertips leave her soft skin.
“I’ll come with you,” Renat offers.
Alina nods and walks over to the small pantry across from the fridge to take note of what’s inside.
I watch her for several long seconds before turning away.
Aside from the front door, there are only two other doors that lead outside of the main structure. A back door that goes out to the small, fenced-in backyard and a side door that leads out into the garage attached to the house.
Most of the windows are big enough that they can be used as exits if necessary.
The surrounding area is quiet and mostly tree covered. We’re on a dusty, unpaved road, and the next house in the area is more than two miles away. I’m pretty sure it’s abandoned too.
There shouldn’t be any traffic out here unless someone makes a wrong turn or someone is purposely scoping out the area.
Safe houses aren’t usually stocked with much, but Gavriil made sure we had plenty of food and weapons, including four handguns.
It doesn’t feel like enough, but it’ll have to do, along with the kitchen knives that we all divvy up.
“Do you know how to shoot?” I ask Alina as I walk back into the kitchen to see that she’s pulled out the canned and boxed goods.
She looks over at me, a wary expression briefly flitting across her face. “Archer showed me once. He stole a guy’s pistol from his truck and took me out into a field to shoot some bottles.”
“Were you a decent shot?”
She smiles sheepishly. “I didn’t hit even half of the bottles.”
I start to tell her that I doubted Archer was the best instructor, but I keep that thought to myself. “I don’t have time to teach you now, but you should keep this on you, regardless. You know how to take the safety off?”
She nods. “You think I’ll need it?”
“Better safe than sorry,” I reply as I check the clip, then ensure the safety is on before tucking it into the back of her jeans. “If you’re close enough to see someone’s face, your aim will be good enough to hit them,” I tell her.
“That’s not very comforting.” She sighs.
We’re supposed to feel relaxed and happy right now, but this feels like a house of dread.
I wrap her up in my arms, pulling her against my chest so that she can bury her face in it.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want you to worry. You’ve been through so much already...”
