The heat in his voice sends chills up and down my arms, gives me a jittery feeling in my stomach, and makes my heart flutter faster. I'm not sure how to answer, but I manage to croak out. "Okay."
And that acceptance is more than I've given anyone since all of this started.
CHAPTER 8
KNOX
Two days ago, we loaded up the Jeep and left Beaver Dam, heading south toward Nashville. Traveling on my own, I had so much less to worry about. Now? I have everything to worry about.
Supplies. A woman I want to protect.
All of which makes me nervous to cross the path of any of the gangs. We’re a target to anyone who sees or picks up that we’re driving around with this kind of loot.
"Can we stop and stretch our legs in a few minutes?" Beth looks over at me.
It had surprised me when she took a small bag out of her bigger backpack, and grabbed a hair tie out of it. Within seconds she'd put her long hair into some sort of messy thing onto the top of her head. There are tendrils hanging down in front of her ears. It makes me want to nose them out of the way. With her hair pulled back, it makes her look years younger. But as I get a glance at her neck, I realize that I'm also jealous. My long hair sticks to the back of my neck, and the dampness feels suffocating.
"We can. Do you have another hair tie in that bag of yours?" I ask the question before I can talk myself out of it.
She blinks at me, the question clearly shocking her. Then a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. This one is shy, but pops a dimple in her cheek, something about the realness of it hits me square in the chest. She's smiled a ton since we decided to travel together, but this one? It's making her eyes sparkle. There's been so few genuine moments that any of us have been able to have since Eruption. I'm keeping this one in my pocket for when things get darker.
"Yeah, I think I do." She reaches down between her feet, unzips the small bag, and rummages around for a second before producing a black elastic band. She holds it out. The second I reach for it, she pulls it back just out of my grasp. I cut my eyes over at her, and that small smile has turned into a much bigger grin, it makes her eyes light up in a way I've never seen from her.
"Beth." Her name comes out as a warning, but even I can hear that there's no real edge to it. She holds it out again, and again the instant my fingers get close, she yanks it away, a soft laugh escaping her.
The sound is husky and makes my body react in ways it probably shouldn't. The exchange between us is so unexpected and spontaneous that it fills up the cab of the Jeep with a vibe that makes the space feel less heavy than it has since we left Beaver Dam. "Give me the damn hair tie," I say, but I'm fighting a smile of my own now, and losing.
I tug on it one more time. She lets it go as I pull on it again, and it pops me in the face.
"Oh my God," she laughs, putting her hand in front of her mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to."
"You're lucky you're so damn cute," I grumble as I bring the Jeep to a stop in the middle of the road. One of the best things about the world ending? You can basically do whatever you want whenever you want. While I pull my hair back, I notice that she keeps her head on a swivel. "Nervous?"
"Yeah." She pulls her thumb in between her teeth. "Being out here in the open like this, knowing what we have in the back of this thing? It's nerve-wracking. Isn't it for you?"
I shrug, trying to feign indifference. "We just have to be smart. People will be interested, and they'll look because they're curious. We just have to protect what's ours."
She's looking in the mirror behind us. "Knox, I think someone's coming up behind us on horse back."
With my hair tied back, I finish rolling the window all the way down on the Jeep, and then stop everything I'm doing, listening to the silent forest around us. Sure enough, the galloping sound of a horse is getting closer and louder.
"What do we need to do?" She asks, her voice sounding stressed.
"First, we need to stay calm. Chances are, they'll pass without any issue." But despite what I tell her, my anxiety ramps up. There are plenty of people out there whose sole purpose is to cause problems. "They've got to come to us, not the other way around."
She nods, but her hands grip the edge of the seat, her knuckles white. I reach over without thinking and cover one of them with mine, squeezing once before pulling back. Whoever is coming up beside us doesn't need to know Beth means anything to me. They could use it against us. My touch is enough to get her to loosen her grip. She takes a slow breath in through her nose.
"Good girl," I croon.
The horse slows as it gets closer, and I can hear it chuff as the rider starts pulling back on the reins. I keep my eyes on the side mirror, watching as a single figure comes into view. He's an older man, maybe sixty, sitting in the saddle like he's familiar with it. He's got a rifle across his lap, but his posture isn't aggressive. That doesn't mean I relax. It just means I don't reach for my own weapon yet.
He pulls up alongside the Jeep, stopping just even with my window, and tilts the brim of his hat back so we can get a look at each other. Up close he's got a weathered face, deep lines around his eyes, and a white beard that's gone a little wild. He looks us both over slowly, assessing if we're friend or foe. "You two heading south?" His voice is quick and to the point. This man doesn't strike me as one for small talk either before Eruption, or now.
"Yeah," I tell him. "Heading south toward Nashville."
He dips his chin, like that confirms what he already suspected. He reaches into the front pocket of his worn shirt and produces a slightly crumpled envelope, sealed and with a single name written on the front in shaky handwriting. He holds it out to me. "Then maybe you can do something for me." I take it, glancing down at it before looking back up at him. "There's a group down that way. Building a homestead, from what I've heard. They're getting organized to the point where they might make it through this." He pauses, his jaw works for a second as his eyes scan the area. When his eyes meet mine again, there's a sadness in them. "I believe my son is either there already, or he's making his way there. Name's Ryker Sullivan?"
Something clicks in the back of my mind. "Ryker." I look at him a little harder. "Was he the Sheriff up in Bishop's Landing?"
