The Girl who Saved the World (Death Fields 6)

I sigh but nod. I’m conflicted anyway. Once I leave the house this time I know it really will be for good.

“You sleep first and I’ll check on the horse and do a perimeter check.” When I hesitate to move, he stops. “You okay?”

“It’s just a lot to take in.”

He brushes my cheek with his fingers and kisses me soft on the lips. “Rest. I’ll be back in soon.”

He leaves and I’m well aware that although he’s just doing the same thing we do every time we rest on the road, he’s also giving me space. I walk out of the office and climb the stairs to the second floor. The house feels colder up here but there’s carpet on the floor and the doors to all the rooms are open. My parents’ empty room is to the left of the stairway. To the right? My room. I feel a sense of contentment walking back through the door.

My computer sits on my desk, keyboard and screen coated in dust. My quilt, the one my aunt made and I stole out of my mother’s closet so many times that she finally gave it to me, stretches wide over the bed. Several posters I had up on the wall have fallen and are rolled up against the wall. I spot a picture of me and Liza at eighth grade graduation tucked into the corner of my mirror. We’re wearing dresses with glitter woven in the fabric and have silly smiles on our faces. I pick the photo up and stare at it. The sun was shining and no one carried a gun. We were both alive.

I hear a creak on the floorboard, the one right outside my door. The one that my mom could hear late at night if I left my room. I glance in the mirror and see Wyatt, who is large and out of place against the splash of aqua blue walls.

I hold up the picture. “Sometimes I’m jealous that she didn’t have to go through all of this.” I push it back where I found it. A relic of another life. I definitely don’t feel like that girl anymore. “Everything okay outside?”

“All quiet,” he says. “Areas like this—the ones that cleared out early either because people died or they evacuated--are fairly safe. We just don’t pass through them much because they’re so far off the main roads.”

“Maybe this is what they meant by a quiet suburban life. We just needed the apocalypse to make it happen.”

“Seems like that was Hamilton’s plan.”

He’s moved closer and my butt hits the top of my dresser, toppling a few knickknacks on the surface. I hook my finger in his waistband. “You don’t think you need to stay on watch?”

His hand moves to my hip. “I’d really rather be up here with you.”

Wyatt isn’t one to be reckless—at least with our safety—so when he leans in and kisses me with intensity, I know we’ve found a tiny slice of solitude.

We fall into one another and he lifts me off my feet, carrying me over to the twin bed. I have a fleeting moment of panic. This bed? My childhood bed? But it feels right, more than right, when he lowers me gently and kisses me all over my face and neck.

I love the feel of his weight on top of me, something real and tangible. I love his humanity and the way he loses himself in stolen moments like this one. His back is hard muscle, despite the hard days on the road. He worships me like a prized possession, which in this world, in the end? It feels good to be loved and to love.

My heart hammers in my chest and warmth spreads down my arms and legs. The adrenaline kicks in and suddenly his hands and mouth take on an entirely new sensation. His fingers burn a trail of fire down my skin.

I laugh and he stops, a frown creasing the edges of his mouth.

“What?”

“Just discovered another benefit of the EVI-3.”

The frown evaporates, transforming into a wicked grin. He flips me over and I squeal with newfound delight.

*

Later, wrapped under my aunt’s quilt, he tightens his arms around me. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About what?” With Wyatt it could be anything.

“After this fight we need to get out of this. Settle down.” His fingers ghost over the wedding ring he gave me days ago. I never took it off. “Get our happily ever after.”

I glance over my shoulder, looking for the hint of a smirk or a raised eyebrow. I find nothing but earnestness. “You think we can get a happily ever after?”

He kisses my forehead. “I said, our happily ever after. The kind that suits us. Suits this world.”

I rest my head back on the pillow and feel him burrow his face in my neck. It’s a lovely thought. A fantastic one, but I’ve gotten through the last two years one day at a time. Thinking about the future is asking for trouble. But then again…

“Talk to me about it again—after this thing with Hamilton is settled.”

“Deal.”