“I’m hungry,” I said as I slipped my gun back in its holster and opened the back of the SUV. I dug through the bins that my dad had stored there until I found one stocked full of dry food. I grabbed a pack of jerky and climbed up onto the tailgate and tore into the package.
Dad and Ash had come up right behind me, following each of my movements with keen eyes.
“What?” I said, chewing on a particularly tough piece of jerky.
“Ash, can you go gather those bottles up? Put the ones that aren’t too beat up back on the fence?” Dad asked. Ash nodded in response and walked away, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment. I looked away, staring at the gray sky in the distance. A storm was definitely coming.
Dad turned back to me. “What’s going on, kiddo?”
I sighed. “The end of the world, Dad.”
He gave me a look and hopped onto the truck bed with me. “Don’t coddle me, Zoe,” he said. “You’ve been in a mood all day.”
“I have not been in a mood,” I scoffed.
“You have been. You’ve been moping.”
“Moping! Oh yes, moping!” I said, throwing my hands out and nearly losing my grip on the bag of jerky. “I mean, Dad, it’s kind of the END OF THE WORLD. We have these Awakened everywhere, and they freakin’ blew up New York. We’re headed on this crazy cross-country road trip to Constance, to live with Mom and Caspar. So yeah, maybe I’m moping a little.”
“Yeah, all that, I get that,” he conceded. “But something more is going on here, and I think it has to do with that guy over there.” He indicated in Ash’s direction, who was busy lining the bottles back up.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, shoving another piece of jerky in my mouth, in the hopes that my inability to talk around a hunk of meat would indicate the end of the conversation.
“It’s not a competition,” my dad said firmly. “It’s about being able to defend yourselves. The Awakened are fast, and they can only be taken down in two ways. I want to make sure that, if we see any of them out here, that you guys will be able to take care of yourself.”
“I know,” I said, swallowing hard. “I know. I just…can you give me a little credit? I’m trying. I am. I know I’m not great at it, but I’m trying.”
“I know you’re trying,” he said, defensively. “I give you credit. I think you’re being dramatic, Zoey. You’re making this a competition when it doesn’t have to be.”
“But it is a competition,” I broke out. “It is! It always has been. I’ve been telling you nearly every day since Ash moved to New York that he teased me and made fun of me and played stupid pranks on me. I told you that I didn’t like having him around. And you always just loved him. You’re always talking about his stupid football or baseball accomplishments. You wanted him over for dinner. God, you wanted me to date him. You stuck me with him for hours a day for weeks while we waited to see what would happen with this stupid virus. So, yeah, maybe I’m just being a little dramatic because I’m so sick of all the Ash love.”
I hopped off the tailgate and started walking away. I was nearly back to Ash when my dad caught up to me. I looked up at him, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tight. He didn’t say anything for a moment, but I knew. He was not an overly affectionate person, not one who was open with his words, but I knew. I nodded and stepped away from him.
“Let’s work on some hand-to-hand stuff,” my dad called out to us. “We won’t always be able to use our guns.”
Ash looked and nodded, sliding his gun into his holster. My dad had given us a variety of small knives, able to slip into a belt loop or into a belt. “I think I can handle that.”
I laughed a little at that but walked over to the fence and hopped onto it, ready to watch my dad and Ash go through basic movements in fighting and self-defense. I didn’t need him to tell me that I wasn’t needed. I knew enough from all the classes he was constantly making me take. Every once in a while I spoke up to correct Ash’s movements.
The day started to get a little warmer as the sun rose higher, and Ash peeled off his shirt and tossed it aside. I blushed a little at the sight of his nearly perfect body. It was unfair that he looked like this. People weren’t supposed to actually look like this. Perfectly tan, hard muscles, strong arms. I waved a hand in front of my face, hoping that it was the heat of the sun and not the near naked boy in front of me that was causing my face to feel so flushed.
After about a half an hour of practicing, my dad clapped Ash on the shoulder again. “You’re strong. It’ll be to your advantage once your strategy gets better. We’ll work more on it later. We have to get moving.”
We piled back into the car. I leaned forward to fiddle with the radio again but there was nothing but static. People were taking the president’s warning to heart and locking themselves down in the house. We drove in silence for hours, before my dad pulled off the road again, deep off the road.
Ash and I both looked surprised when Dad got out of the car.