“I’ve lost everything too, but I didn’t die along with everyone else and you didn’t either and neither did your son. You’re special,” he said, letting her arm go. “for more reasons than you know.”
He expected her to scoff or walk away, but she did neither. Her hand came up to his cheek and touched it, her fingers softer than he’d expected. He steeled himself, trying not to jerk away, as she ran her fingertips over the jutting bones and slanted chin, trailing her hand down to his neck. Goosebumps spread out from the contact, running in sheets down his back and chest. He started to lean in, closing the distance between them that was a thousand miles, and less than inches, but stopped. She was watching him again, studying him with searching eyes that cut to his center. She was seeing him, even with the low light. Seeing the imperfections, the incongruities, the ugliness.
Quinn stepped away, and only then realized he was gripping her shoulder with one hand.
“I’m sorry. I…” he shot a look at her, her face impassive, giving him nothing. He brought his gaze to the floor. “Would you mind taking first watch?”
“No, that’s fine,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He moved to the reclined lawn chair and lay down, covering himself with blankets. His hands were shaking. Halfway through situating himself, he began to rise again, but settled back down, staring up at the clearing sky and the cold sprinklings of stars that winked at him as if they knew secrets that would never be told.
~
They woke with the first morning rays that streamed through the trees to the west. Quinn avoided Alice’s gaze as much as possible as they packed every useful item in the house they could find. Quinn found a smart phone and charger, and after bringing the device back to life, saw that the satellites still worked somewhere miles above the earth. Each of them took a short but welcome shower, and Quinn shaved off the heavy growth of beard that had accumulated over the past days. He avoided his reflection, slicing away the scruff by feel alone. Afterwards they ate a mostly silent breakfast and loaded the Challenger. Soon the massive house dwindled in their rearview mirrors.
“I liked that place,” Ty said as they reached highway speed and took a route that bypassed the valley town.
“Yeah, why’s that?” Alice asked, glancing back at him.
“It felt safe.”
“Nowhere’s safe,” Alice said. Quinn glanced at her, but she held her eyes steady on the road.
The Challenger growled, pulling them on through the day. They stopped once for gas and had to detour three times. Twice because there were bridges out, blown wide by what appeared to be explosives, and the third from an impassable tunnel jammed full of dead cars and darkness. The last time they backtracked for forty miles before finding another route.
When they stopped beside a lonely field of dandelions to relieve their bladders, Alice held Quinn back on the side of the road while Denver led Ty to a stand of narrow trees.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she started. “I had a lot to drink, and my tolerance is way down.”
“Nothing to be sorry for. I overstepped my bounds; won’t happen again.”
“Quinn—”
“No, it’s fine. Everything’s fine. We’re making good time, huh?” he said, walking away. She didn’t reply, and he crossed the ditch and relieved himself before coming back to the car.
They reached Fort Dodge in the late afternoon. The town grew above the treetops in a smattering of brick and brownstone squares. A clock tower gazed down upon the streets, its cyclopean form looming above the rest of the buildings.
They entered the town from the east, idling into a barren industrial park lined with chain link fencing around its border. They waited, scanning the rows of buildings.
“Where is the military installation supposed to be?” Alice asked.
“It looks like there’s three mining locations according to the map. One might be a processing plant. That one’s on the southwest side of town.”