“I don’t love seeing that freeway.” I gesture with my head toward it. “Makes me feel exposed.”
“Yeah, same here. Let’s stay alert.”
As we continue along, I keep glancing over, expecting at any moment to see those same damn trucks with their damn flags flapping. Nothing approaches. It must be my imagination, but things keep appearing in the corner of my vision. A slight motion. A splash of color. But each time I turn to look, there’s nothing there. “This may sound paranoid, but I’d swear somebody is watching us.”
“Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean people aren’t out to get you.” Aiden smiles.
“Haveyouseen anything strange?”
“Nope. Maybe youarejust paranoid.”
I whack him on the shoulder. “Shut up!”
Aiden laughs.
After a few hours, our trail veers to the left, leaving the interstate behind. I’m glad I no longer have to glance over my shoulder every minute.
Our surroundings have changed distinctly—the forest denser, the trail gaining elevation, and the air a little crisper. An occasional patch of snow appears, hiding in a gully or shady spot. We’ve moved to the edge of the Cascade Mountains.
“Aiden, what do you plan to do when we’re done? When this is all over.”
He looks over at me with a scrunched face. “That’s a good question. Originally, I imagined I’d stay at the bunker for a while. See if they had any local courier jobs for me there. And at some point, make my way back to the East Coast, I guess.”
He takes my hand, and smiles. “But now, I’m not so sure. Are you thinking about what Curtis said? About the farm?”
“Yeah. I was crushed to hear about his cancer. But I can’t help but think it’s fate’s way of telling us we should take it over. To honor him.”
“A lot will happen between now and when we need to make that decision. We still need to track down your family, for instance.”
“We?” I beam at him. The end of our trip isn’t something we’ve talked about. I wasn’t sure if he planned to help me.
“Yes, we.” He grabs both of my hands and looks me in the eye. “We’re in this together. Remember?”
The earnestness of his statement makes me glow. He intends to stay and help me. Before now, I wasn’t sure of his plans. My love for him grows with each kind gesture he makes. Each selfless act.
I want to tell him I love him. To scream it out loud to the world. And I’m pretty sure he loves me too. But to say it to him now is too risky. I’d be a mess if he weren’t ready to say it back to me. So I’ll wait.
Instead, I sayI love youwith the warmth of my smile. The look in my eyes. And he returns that look. That’s enough for now.
*
AIDEN
Melting snowdrifts are a common sight now, streaked with dirt. The sudden coldness and increase in the snow make me apprehensive. The more snow we encounter, the more complicated our crossing becomes. Zach’s face looks calm and content. Seeing him steadies my nerves a bit. Maybe things won’t be so bad.
We trudge across slush and mud along some shady spots on the trail. All the while, the sun is still bright and warm in the clear blue sky. But the difference in temperature between the sunny and shady spots is dramatic. The thin air of the higher altitudes doesn’t hold as much warmth. When we’re not standing in the sun, it gets downright chilly.
It’s early evening when we get to the shores of Keechelus Lake. An old primitive campsite looks ideal for setting up our tent for the night. The lake is beautiful and stretches on for miles.
The Snoqualmie ski area is far off to the north. Ski runs crisscross the otherwise forested hills and white alpine peaks. That’s where we’ll be tomorrow when we hit the Snoqualmie Pass.
Like the night before we crossed the Columbia River, I’m a bundle of nerves. But the mix of feelings is different. I’m more in control. Zach will be with me this time. And while I fear for our safety, knowing he’ll be by my side somehow fills me with more confidence. More hope.
Snow blankets most of the ground here, but we find a nice dry patch to set up our tent. Despite it being a colder evening, we go without a fire tonight. Best not to telegraph our position to any prying eyes the day before we go over the pass.
We eat a cold but delicious meal, care of Curtis. Cured meats, cheeses, and a rustic baguette he baked in his oven last night. The food is a delicacy we haven’t experienced since before the Great Collapse.
When we finally go to bed, we snuggle up tight into the one sleeping bag. It’s cold enough outside that we’re still in our clothes. It’s a bit of torture not being able to feel Zach’s bare skin against mine.
