Jesse slipped outside with the remaining sausages and a stale bag of peanuts while Roark and I shared a can of deviled ham and a bottle of Irish whiskey. As I swallowed down the last bite, I thought of Darwin. If he were here, he would’ve planted himself in front of me, staring at the can of shit and licking his chops. God, I missed him.
After dinner, I changed into the yoga pants and tank top I’d borrowed from Shea. Then I moved to the mattress to check on her, relieved to find her face cool to the touch and her breathing relaxed in sleep.
Another relief was the sound of thunder rattling through the walls. Rain would keep the aphids away, and maybe, just maybe we would all be able to sleep tonight.
I stepped over Roark’s massive body, where he stretched out on the floor beside Shea’s mattress, his eyes closed. Quietly, I grabbed the carbine and tiptoed outside to look for Jesse.
Lightning crackled across the black sky, illuminating Jesse’s slumped form and watchful eyes beneath the eave of the animal clinic. The downpour pelted the cracked soil that surrounded the concrete patio, and the wind splattered drops against my face.
Shutting the door behind me, I filled my lungs with the musty-earth scent of damp ground, content to stand there all night and soak in the safety of moisture.
Until a sting pricked my arm. I smacked it, smearing blood on my bicep. “Ugh. How the hell do mosquitoes fly in the rain?”
Tucked in a dry area against the building, Jesse stared out into the blackness of the storm. “They ride the raindrops for a fraction of a second then their water-resistant bodies shake off the moisture. Barely disturbs their flight path.”
Thank fuck aphids couldn’t do that. Rainwater was toxic to them, shriveling their bodies into a deathly fungus. But where did aphids find shelter? Did some perish and dissolve into the ground? Or did they have an instinctual sense of approaching storms and burrow like other rain-fearing species?
I held my face skyward, letting the droplets pepper my cheeks. “This is one of the few times I really feel safe, you know?”
He bent his legs, draping his arms over his knees, and rested his head against the building. “We should be traveling right now.”
“Maybe it’ll still be raining when we leave tomorrow.” I studied his expression, and my heart sank.
Defeat slouched his body, and pain etched his eyes. He needed sleep, but if his mind was as crammed with as many worries as mine, rest would not come easy.
Did he want to be alone with his thoughts? He seemed to prefer isolation, but then again, he was a tough one to read.
I gestured to the dry patch of concrete beside him. “Mind if I join you?”
He scooted over a couple inches and pulled a cigarette from the pouch at his hip. I set the carbine by the door and dropped beside him.
Huddled together, we shared the smoke and a few moments of wordless solitude, listening to the steady patter of rain. He drew puffs off the cigarette with the ease of a practiced addict, though I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen him smoke.
I finished the rest and flicked it into the rain. “Where do we go now?”
His shrug rubbed his shoulder against mine, and I savored the warmth of his skin. But the physical contact made me want things. Things he wouldn’t give.
Leaning down, I rolled up the cuffs of the yoga pants to keep them dry. “You always have a plan. Let’s hear it.”
He picked at the frayed hole on the knee of his jeans. “Now that we’re down two men, it’ll be tough to keep Shea safe.”
Hard to swallow, but true nonetheless. Holing up in a barren building was one way to stay safe, but we couldn’t do that and expect to find nymphs. We needed to go to populated areas, large cities where there would be lots of inhabitants…aphids, men, and a panoply of danger. That was where the nymphs would be.
His restless fingers stilled. “We should take her back to the Lakota.”
I liked that idea. Loved it actually. “It’s only a day’s drive back. A week to hike up the mountain.”
We already knew the roads and shouldn’t encounter too many unexpected obstacles. We would see those three friendly Lakota faces, and that alone would do wonders for morale.
I gnawed on the edge of a brittle fingernail. “After we drop her off, would we return to this area and continue on our original path along the gulf?” I waited for his nod. “Then we’d only be delayed by two weeks.”
Two weeks we would’ve spent on the reserve anyway, giving Shea time to heal and train.
“I’ll talk to Roark,” he said, quietly.
“We need to talk to Shea, too. We can heal these women, but it’s up to them what they want to do with their lives. We can’t force them into hiding.”