I shrugged. “I didn’t either until I saw it outside. But it makes sense, and it’s definitely safer.”
“You’re so smart,” he said, giving me a squeeze around my waist. “And we can take more things in the jeep. Just in case.”
We spent the next twenty minutes packing things in the back of the jeep, clothes, blankets, flashlights, all sorts of things and as much of the nonperishable food as we could find in the house. I placed the map on the front seat and turned back to the house. I spent so little time here in my life. I had kicked and screamed every time I was forced to come out here, and it wasn’t home like the brownstone was, but it was the place that I was able to say goodbye to, and I would.
“Are you ready?” Ash asked, coming to stand next to me.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “Let’s hit the road.”
THE CAR WOULDN’T START.
I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. It had been sitting on the driveway, idle and unused for months. My forehead was resting against the steering wheel and I wondered if my brilliant idea hadn’t turned into the biggest disappointment.
Ash was sitting in the passenger seat next to me, not saying a word and I was happy for that. I might have bitten his head off. I grumbled under my breath. The gas tank was, miraculously, full, and we could easily make it most of the way to Colorado. We could always walk the rest of the way, if it was absolutely necessary.
That is, if the car wanted to start.
“Try it again,” Ash said finally. “You never know.”
“Yeah, right, you never know,” I said bitterly. I slid the key back in the ignition throwing a prayer up. “Come on, baby; I believe in you. You’ll take us to Colorado.” I turned the key, and it made the same familiar whining noise. “This is absolutely ridiculous.”
Ash sighed, leaning over to reach for the keys.
“It’s not going to turn on,” I said firmly, sitting back in the driver’s seat. We hadn’t even left, and we were already hitting roadblocks. What did this say about this crazy trek we were making to Colorado?
He ignored me, reaching across me to turn the key. The engine sputtered a bit, whined and then roared to life. He grinned triumphantly, turning to look up at me. I was torn between smacking him in the head and making out with him. I smiled grudgingly at him, and pushed him back into his own seat.
“Let’s just get out of here, okay?” I said, putting it in gear and starting to back out of the long driveway. When we reached the road, I turned and looked one last time at the house, saying a silent goodbye to my mother before driving away.
The first five hours of the drive went by quickly in a comfortable silence. Ash fiddled with the radio every half an hour or so, trying to catch a signal of something. It had been so long since we had contact with anyone besides each other and my mother that I think we were desperate to know that there were others out there.
The roads were empty of people, but like the roads we had seen back in Nebraska, there were empty cars everywhere, abandoned. Every time we passed one, I turned away, afraid to look at it.
The first time we passed a real city, we slammed on the breaks and looked down at the ruins that were left. There was nothing, just…nothing. I stared at it for a long time before forcing myself to turn away and drive.
We stopped later that night, pulling over and taking the time to get some sleep. Ash reached for my hand before falling asleep, and I let him, feeling comforted by his soft, warm palm against mine.
My dreams were restless, not quite nightmares but enough to make me toss and turn in the hard driver’s seat. I woke up more than once, distracted by the bright moonlight streaming through the large windows. I sighed, looking over at Ash, who looked so peaceful in sleep. He shifted a bit; his hand tightened around mine, and I felt for a moment like he was squeezing my heart. When we got to Sanctuary, we would figure it out. I would tell him how I felt, and we would figure it out.
Sanctuary, the possibility of it being real seemed so far-fetched, like the stories I was told as a kid of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Could a place of safety, of utopia even exist? What would we do if there wasn’t anything there? I had a vision in my head, of the two of us in animal pelts living off the land like Adam and Eve or something. I bit back a laugh at the image. There had to be something there. There just had to be.
I sat in comfortable silence, keeping a watch outside while Ash slept silently beside me. He slept so quietly that I felt the need to check on him constantly, to make sure that he was still breathing. We were both orphans now, and he was all I had left in the world. Even if he didn’t feel the same way (and my heart clenched painfully at the thought), I needed him. I could not survive if I lost him as well.