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The Sole Survivor

Page 69

by E.S. Luck

“And who will protect you?” I whispered against his mouth.

“I can handle myself. Besides, Kimmy would singlehandedly take down an army before she’d let anything happen to my sorry ass. You know that.”

In spite of the danger in front of us, a small smile curved my lips. “I do.”

We undressed and I took him inside me, straddling his lap. He watched me carefully as we made love, as though preparing himself for another breakdown. But for the first time that day, I felt whole. Being intimately connected to him was the only thing I wanted. I physically craved our closeness—every part of him touching every part of me. His was the only presence that, even in the midst of my grief and despair, always comforted me. His touch felt like home to me, too.

Moonlight fell in long, silver beams over the bedspread, which lay bunched at the foot of the bed. I studied the pale light, admiring its beauty, as I stroked the fine, sparse hair on John’s chest. Entangled together on the enormous, squishy bed, we lay in the same comfortable silence that often followed our lovemaking at home. The only difference was that this quiet held a heaviness, an ache of impending separation that we were both trying desperately to ignore.

“Remember—”

“I will,” I said, cutting across him. “I know the plan.”

He stroked my hair, and I felt his worry—for my safety, for my mental health, for everything that we knew had to happen now. He could sense that my mood had shifted again. I felt on edge, but more than that, my grief had returned, and I was in danger of bursting into tears at any moment, even knowing it didn’t change anything. It wouldn’t help me do what was necessary now.

Still, John kept stroking my hair, a steady reminder that he was with me. “Do you remember the night I took you up on the barn roof back home?”

The memory returned instantly: it’d been a cold, wet night in early April, and I’d been waiting for John to get home from outrider patrol. It was late, and he’d been held up at work again, and even though I understood that he did an important job, I’d been a little cranky about it. Over his plate of leftovers from dinner, he’d noticed. Come with me, he’d said apologetically. There’s something I promised I’d show you a long time ago.

My grumpiness forgotten, I’d followed him out to the barn, where he boosted me up onto the roof from the loft, then climbed up after me. He laid out our sleeping bags on the flat top of the roof, and we lay close together in a nest of blankets, watching the stars and listening to the sounds of the night. He smiled at my surprise and delight when we heard the distant howl of wolves. Despite our long treks through the wilderness, I’d never seen one, yet something about them fascinated me. They don’t like people, John had said when I asked. Can’t blame them, really. Then he cradled me in his arms and told me that he loved me, and that no time apart could ever change what we had. We fell asleep there, under that remarkable starlight, and I’d never felt so content.

“Of course,” I replied after a moment, my throat thick. It was the loveliest memory, and if things went wrong with our plan, we might never have any more like it.

John’s fingers continued to play idly with my hair. “Every night, I’ve looked up at the stars and thought about you. When I’ve felt like I can’t keep going, or when I miss you so much it physically hurts, I remember that night. Because I was so full of hope—for you, for us, for our future. It reminds me that, even though I have no idea how we’ll get out of this right now…I still am. I’ve never believed in anything like I believe in you and me, baby.”

“John,” I whispered, my voice breaking. I moved to look up at him, but he held me tighter, like I was all he had left in this world.

“The world fucking ended before my life even started,” he said with a bitter chuckle, “but somehow, you’re here, and the kind of love we have still exists…that’s enough to convince me to fight. Now, and always. So, don’t you dare give up on me, you understand? We’re getting out of here in a few days, and our life together has only just started.”

I nodded against his chest, not daring to speak in case my voice betrayed me. As usual, John was steady, and his strength made me believe in the future, even if everything else had been shattered inside me.

He checked his watch. “Shit. It’s nearly time.”

He got dressed, and I handed over the thumb drive; it’d be safer with him than with me. Nonetheless, a sense of dread tightened deep in my belly. When I walked him to the balcony door, I couldn’t hold back any longer. My tears overflowed, and a small sob escaped against my will. Having him leave again when I felt so raw and vulnerable was a torture almost equal to the days I’d spent in the White Room.

“Don’t cry anymore, sweetheart,” John murmured, his voice thick. “Please. I can’t stand it.”

His hand curled around the base of my neck, and he rested his forehead against mine, squeezing his eyes shut. A single tear leaked out from under his lashes, slipping down his left cheek. We stood there as time ticked by, frozen. Breaking our embrace would mean our time together was up, and neither of us were ready.

“What if it all goes wrong?” I whispered, barely able to utter the words. Every syllable felt like a hand around my throat, choking the life out of me. “And I never see you again?”

John exhaled slowly, as if trying to regain control. “This won’t be our last night together. I promise.”

He pressed a hard kiss against my forehead, and I leaned into him like a flower seeking sunlight. I needed more time. I needed everything. The tension in his shoulders told me he didn’t want to pull away, but he couldn’t stay. The camera outage was planned at a specific time, and he couldn’t risk missing it.

“I have to go,” he said, so gently, as though afraid I might break apart at the words. I feared I would, too. “I’ll come back for you, my Claire. Don’t doubt it.”

“I love you,” I managed to get out, and he crushed me against him one last time, his lips on mine. I memorized the lines of his body, his scent on my skin, his hands in my hair. I wanted to brand my heart and mind forever with his presence.

In an instant, it was over. With one last swipe at my tears with his thumb, he was gone, over the railing and into the night.

And I was, once more, alone.

Chapter 24

Claire

Itossed and turned and fell into an uneasy sleep after John left. I was woken by a pair of hands shaking me violently.