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chapter forty-eight

Emily

I flew along the shore, the only place I could think to ride the dirt bike where I wouldn’t be met with blockades like the ones we had to pass through to get here. Once I encountered a mass of rocks stretched into the ocean, I accelerated up the embankment and drove on the highway that wound around the shore. Broken-down cars littered this stretch of road, but I maneuvered easily around and through, finding that only a handful of people were out, either siphoning gas, or traveling along the edge.

I was afraid to slow down. Afraid that if I did, someone would attack, causing me and the bike to skid along the asphalt only to leave me broken and bleeding by the side of the road so they could steal my ride.

It wasn’t paranoia. It was reality and the state of the world right now.

The highway turned into a one-lane road, and that led into a community, and the roadblock I’d expected appeared. It was the one we’d passed through on the way here. I drove around it, into the weedy desert terrain. Again, I was free to go as fast as I dared and so I did, racing across the hard-packed dirt, avoiding rocks and brambles, remembering the absolute thrill of a similar ride on a horse with Tuck, his deep laughter drifting to me on the wind.

I distanced myself from the rocks against the incline because I could see people sleeping there. Or maybe they were dead, bodies littered outside the cordoned-off zones. Perhaps more and more bodies would continue to pile up in spots like that as the days turned into weeks.

But I couldn’t think about that. All I could think about was home.

Please be there, Tuck. At my parents’. I need to tell you I love you, even if you don’t say it back. I need you to know even if you decide to go.

It was all that mattered now. Love was more precious than food or water, more important than those chickens worth their weight in gold. And I hadn’t said it because I thought it mattered that he might not say it back.

If I rode fast and hard, even if I had to go around barricades, I could make it home by morning. Please be there. Please—

The dirt bike hit something as though I’d crashed into an invisible wall, throwing me backward violently as I screamed, and the bike came out from under me. For a moment I was airborne and then everything went black.

I woke with a moan, pain radiating through my head and down my spine. I sucked in a breath, and my lungs expanded, feeling raw and achy as though they’d collapsed, and I’d filled them too quickly.

What happened? Oh my God, what happened?

A man stood over me, the dirt bike next to him, and a rope hanging from his hand. “I’m real sorry,” he said. “But I need that bike.” Oh God. He’d heard me coming. He’d used the rope somehow to stop me. “I’m not a bad person. I’m a restaurant manager. Or I was. They—they looted it. Killed two of my employees. I hid under my desk. I—I just need to get away from here. To the ocean. Where there’s food.”

I wiggled my toes and then my fingers, relief trickling through me at the knowledge I wasn’t paralyzed. I still felt mildly numb though and couldn’t tell if I was in shock, or if a bone, or several, were broken. I couldn’t manage to find enough breath to speak. I couldn’t tell this man there were boats blocking any food that was in the ocean. Modern-day pirates that would kill him rather than let him fish.

“Please,” I said, wincing as another sharp pain stabbed at the place behind my eyes. “Please don’t leave me here like this.”

“I’m a good person,” he repeated. “But it’s kill or be killed now. That’s the way it is. I’m sorry. I’m a good person but I need that bike.”

He paused as he peered down at me, our eyes meeting in the starlit desert. “You’re pretty. And young,” he said. “And I am sorry but look up at the stars and it’ll be over soon.”

And then, as though he’d suddenly decided he wanted no part of this, he flew backward, landing on the ground with a thud and a shriek of shock.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Tuck. Tuck’s voice. How?

And then he appeared, moving forward, hands clenched into fists, his face full of rage. Tuck. Oh, Tuck. How are you here? Is this real? His face blurred and I drifted, sighing out in wonder. I’d conjured him. “I was coming to you,” I said, the words streaming together.

And then I heard yells and the sounds of a scuffle and the wet cracks of punches landing, and I tried desperately to pull myself from the stupor I was in, but the stars were so bright, and Tuck was somewhere nearby even though there was no way he could be. And perhaps I was dreaming, but if I was, why was I still in so much pain?

Then I smelled him, Tuck, and arms were wrapping around me, and a high-pitched moan released from my chest as he moved me slightly, his fingers pressing into my flesh. “I’m so sorry, Em. I’ve got you. You’re okay. Let me see.” He moved down my arms and then my legs, releasing a breath that sounded full of relief. “I’m going to sit you up,” he said. “Remember when we used to play red rover, Em? And you would charge that line with all your might and then land on the ground so hard it shocked me. But then you’d get up. You always got up, you never stay down for long, do you, Em?”

I cried when he brought me to a sitting position, my head throbbing so hard I thought I’d pass out. And maybe I did because a moment later he was cradling me in his arms, his lips warm at my temple, and water at my lips. I took in several sips and then he brought the bottle from my mouth. “You’re really here,” I said, clutching at his jacket and his hair, running my hands over his face.

“I’m here. I was coming for you. I love you, Emily. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry I didn’t say it because it’s true and it’s the only thing that’s real. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.” Then he lifted me gently and set me on the dirt bike before getting on, so I was facing him. “Can you sit up?” he asked.

I nodded. I was so woozy, but my body seemed to be working, even if I was having a hard time stringing thoughts together. The dirt bike rumbled to life, and we began moving, the wind in my hair once again, but this time in the other direction. I lay my head against Tuck’s heart, the beat steady and strong right beneath my ear. “I love you,” I murmured. “I’ve always loved you.”

“I love you too,” he said again. “And I’m going to get you home and love you every day for the rest of your life.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Now, Em, tell me about that game we used to play, the one with the green bucket…”

“I made that up, and then I changed the rules whenever I wanted.”

He breathed out a sound that was a laugh and a sigh in one. “I knew you did.”

“Then why’d you play?”

“Because I secretly liked being kept on my toes.”

“Hmm.” I smiled. I was so sleepy, and everything hurt. “Then I have a lot of work ahead of me.”

“We both do.”

I drifted but then came to when Tuck asked me a question, slurring my answer and then melting against his chest. We rode over bumpy ground and then smooth, the glow of the sun making me squint when I opened my eyes and looked over his shoulder.

I heard gunfire somewhere very close by, and Tuck made a sharp turn, flying around a big rig and then speeding up as the rumble of engines roared behind us. Wind whipped, we leaned left, then right, streaking past cars and trees before the noise of the engines faded behind us and I felt Tuck relax.

Voices shouted here and there, screams rose, and I kept my face pressed against Tuck, trusting him with every ounce of my soul, one of his arms clamped tightly around my waist, and the other steering the bike.

The air grew still, the rumble of the dirt bike fading away as I cracked open my eyes and Tuck lifted me from the bike. His eyes met mine and he said the most beautiful two words in the English language, the ones I’d been waiting to hear from him for two thousand miles and also my entire life: “We’re home.”