Chapter 18

Four days later,I drive the ATV back to our cabin in the morning so I can get things ready for Jimmy to come back home and collect Mack.

The past days have been long. Tedious. Jimmy has been in a bad mood about being stuck in bed, and I've been impatient to get back to our own home, our own kitchen, our own animals, our own bed.

I love his parents, but I don't want to live with them.

Jimmy's leg is healing well. We've been extra careful with keeping the wound clean and dry, and there's no sign of infection. He's mostly recovered from the blood loss and weakness. Yesterday he was like a caged bear all day. I had to give him a very quiet blow job just to take the edge off his mood.

He was a little better after that.

But I'm not going to be able to get him to stay in bed for much longer, so Greta and I agreed that today is the day. I'll go out this morning to get the house and bed ready and pick up Mack. Then Jimmy and I will drive back home in the afternoon.

I'm excited, and the familiar road through the woods and ascent to the cabin feel like the embrace of an old friend.

Mack hears me drive up and comes to the front to greet me. He's obviously been working in the garden. He's got dirt on his hands, arms, shoes, and knees.

I've been hoping he'll be back to his old self after the time to recover alone, but he's not. He's polite. Helpful as always. But he's quiet and subdued—like the warm fire inside him is still snuffed.

It worries me, but I'm not sure what I can possibly do to help.

After he cleans up, he helps me change the sheets on the bed and check the food so I'll know what I need to bring with us this afternoon from Greta's pantry.

When we're done, Mack packs up his stuff and then sits on the front step outside to wait for me to run to the outhouse.

He looks hunched and tired when I return to him, so I sit on the step beside him. He's staring at an empty spot in the air.

I wish I knew what I could say to encourage him, to lighten his load. But I don't really know him very well, and some things simply can't be fixed with anything but time.

"Didn't it help?" I ask at last. "The time alone?"

"It did. Thanks for letting me stay here."

"But it wasn't enough?"

He gives an exhausted shrug and stares down at the ground.

"It wasn't your fault," I murmur, knowing even as I say the words that they won't change anything. "You didn't know. You did what you had to do to save us."

"I know." He's hoarse. Not pained exactly. Just so incredibly tired. "That's what I do."

That small comment enlightens me. Tells me something I didn't know before. I turn to look at him, but he won't meet my eyes. After a long stretch of silence, I ask, "How long has it been?"

He finally glances over with a silent question.

"How long have you been carrying a whole community on your back?"

My soft question gets to him. He makes a small sound in his throat and turns away. "Almost ten years."

Ten years. Since before Impact. Probably ever since that terrible day when the approaching asteroid was announced to the world.

Since then, he's been taking care of people. Protecting them. Holding them together. From what Cal and Rachel have mentioned in passing, Mack has been central to the safe, established communities that have been built and are growing in their part of the world.

Ten years he's been doing it. Taking on their loads so they don't have to carry them alone.

No wonder he's on the brink of collapse.

"Have you never had a break in all that time?"

He gives another heavy shrug. "These past few days."

"Can't you get away for a little longer? Go somewhere on your own where you don't have to hold everyone else together? It sounds like your community is doing pretty well now. Surely they won't all fall apart without you for a while."

"Where would I go?"

I straighten up. Widen my eyes. "I…" I hear my voice break, suddenly uncertain about the suggestion that's just occurred to me.

He must know I have a thought because he finally straightens up too. "You have somewhere in mind?"

"Yeah. I don't know. It might be crazy. But my grandpa and I lived in a cabin. In the middle of The Wild. He had it all fixed up with self-sustaining power and plumbing and everything. There's still some prepper food there. If you think you can get across the border safely, I could give you directions on how to get there. I'm sure it's still safe. There's hardly anyone in The Wild, and no one knows where the cabin is."

His mouth parts. For the first time since the gunfight, his expression relaxes. "You wouldn't mind if I use it?"

"Of course not. It's been sitting empty since the end of last year. No sense for it to be wasted. You would have to figure out a way to safely sneak across the border, but after that it should be easy. You could stay there as long as you want. It's got at least a month or two left of food, and you could hunt and fish to supplement. You could… you could take care of no one except yourself for a little while."

Mack takes a shaky breath.

"And when you're ready to come back, there's a truck and another ATV there with plenty of gas left. You could take whichever you prefer and then drive it all the way back to Kentucky. Whenever you're ready to go home again."

"You really wouldn't mind?"

"Not at all. I'd be glad for what's there to be of some use." I reach over to touch his arm. "Mack, you risked your life for me and Jimmy. You had no reason to do that except the goodness of your heart. Goodness doesn't always get rewarded, but it should be. It should be. So take time for yourself if you need it."

He's silent for a minute. I know he likes the idea. He wants to grab on to it. But there's still something holding him back. "They'll all think I abandoned them. Back home."

I shake my head. "Maybe. Or maybe they'll understand that after everything you've always done for other people, you finally needed to do something for yourself."

And that does it.

He makes up his mind. Straightens his back and then lifts himself to his feet, extending his hand to help me up too. "Thank you, Chloe. I don't know why what happened the other night hit me so hard. I've dealt with really rough stuff in the past and it didn't faze me. But this did. I can't seem to shake it. And this feels like a lifeline to me."

I squeeze his hand before I let it go. "Then take it, Mack. Take it."

* * *

Mack and I get back to the Carlsons' farm before lunch, and shortly afterward I squeeze into the pickup's cab with Cal, Rachel, and Mack so I can show them where to drop off Mack for a straight shot across the border and into The Wild.

In the pickup, we're safe enough to get to the edge of the border and save Mack some walking in dangerous territory.

Cal and Rachel aren't happy. In fact, they're both visibly upset about Mack's decision and are afraid it won't be good for him.

But he's made up his mind. He's doing it. And so they drive him as far as they can to keep him safe.

It's already been decided that two of the local farmhands—men without families or homes or roots here—are going to ride back to Kentucky with Cal, Rachel, and the cows to provide extra protection on the road. Those guys can return on their own time if they want, but it's likely they'll just stay in the communities there. Evidently there are more people there, so they'll have a better chance of finding women and making homes for themselves.

So Mack isn't needed to protect the cows on the way home. Cal and Rachel can take them, and Mack can return when he's ready.

The logistics all work out fine, but Cal and Rachel still don't like it.

I don't blame them, but I figure Mack gets to decide what's best for him.

The ride out toward the border is quiet and doesn't take very long. When we get close, I look up at Mack. "Okay. If you pick up that trail at the old parking lot, it should be a clear route to get there. Just turn right at the fork where that old gas station was, and then take the dirt driveway past the creek crossing."

"Okay. I got it."

"And the key is under a loose rock at the bottom of that rock wall about ten feet from where it ends at the driveway."

Mack nods. "Got it."

I've told him all this before, but I'm suddenly nervous for him. "There should be plenty of food. And if you head east on the trail from the house, you'll run into a lake where you can fish. And take either the truck or the ATV when you're ready to come home. The keys are under the seats."

"Thank you, Chloe. I got it. I'm going to be fine."

I nod and swallow over any further impulse to babble.

"What do you want us to tell Anna?" Rachel asks softly.

Mack flinches very briefly. "Tell her… Tell her I'm fine."

Cal puts the truck into park where I indicate. Mack will only have to cross the road and get through the old parking lot to pick up the overgrown trail through The Wild.

We all look in both directions for guards or vehicles or any other human beings.

There's nothing but the crumbling road, a lot of long grass and weeds, and the thick darkness of the forest in front of us.

Mack gets out, heaving on his big pack and keeping his rifle at the ready. Cal and Rachel get out too.

Rachel says something and then hugs Mack. She looks like she's about to cry, but she doesn't. After an awkward moment during which Cal must have mumbled something, Mack hugs him too. Then he gives me a wave and a faint hint of his old smile.

He turns away and walks across the road as Cal stands, gun poised, still looking for any sign of the gangs who regularly patrol this area.

Mack keeps walking, making it to the parking lot that Grandpa and I stumbled on months ago.

Ages ago.

After another minute, Mack's large, upright figure passes out of sight, disappearing into The Wild.

* * *

The sun has fully set that evening by the time I finish getting the chickens and pigs ready for the night, go to the bathroom, and lock up the house.

Jimmy was just as happy as me to get back home, but he's gotten grumpier as the evening's passed with me having to do all his chores.

His leg is healing, but it's not anywhere close to completely better yet. And I refuse to let him risk it by overdoing his activity no matter how stubbornly he wants to get back to normal.

When I finally return to the bedroom, he's lying in bed in his boxers with the sheet pushed down to his thighs. "I coulda done somethin'."

"Whether you could have done something and whether you should have done something are two entirely different things."

He scowls at me as I pour water in the basin and start cleaning myself up. "You shouldn't have to do everythin'."

"I won't have to do everything for long. You need to have a little patience. Can't you just enjoy the fact that we're home?"

"I'm real happy 'bout that. But you've had a hard week and haven't had much chance to recover because I've been stuck in bed all this time. And you're pregnant on top of it all. You must be dead on your feet."

I shimmy out of my jeans and panties and finish a quick washup before I pull on my nightgown and join him in bed. After turning off the lantern, I'm careful not to accidentally jar him or knee his bad leg as I climb over his body.

"I am pretty tired," I admit as I fit myself at his side.

Wrapping an arm around me, he lets out a long breath, readjusting me so we're both more comfortable. "You need to get some sleep. Let me do the mornin' chores tomorrow and you can sleep in."

"No way."

"You got mornin' sickness."

"And you have a bullet wound in your leg."

"I feel fine now."

"No, you don't. I feel fine."

"No, you fuckin' don't."

I can't help but giggle at the silly argument and his ornery tone. "I guess we're both not in tip-top shape, but we'll get there."

He relaxes. Tilts his head down so he can press a few kisses into my hair. "Yeah. We'll get there."

After a minute, I ask in a different tone, "What do you think they're up to at the border?"

For the past several days, it's been one of the main topics of conversation in the community. Why did they try to capture me and Jimmy? It was obviously an organized plot, not a spur-of-the-moment impulse. They were waiting for us. Ready for us. And we managed to stop their attempt and kill all the guys who tried it, but we still don't understand what their motivation was to begin with.

"I really don't know." He shifts restlessly. "If they'd killed me and just took you, maybe I could see what they were after."

A chill runs through me at the thought.

Jimmy continues, "But they wanted both of us. Alive. I got no idea."

"Me either. Do you think it's… it's over?"

He doesn't answer immediately. "I dunno. But somethin' makes me think they're not done. We're steppin' up on patrols and posting guards. Not sure what else we can do but wait and see."

"Yeah."

I don't like it. It makes the world feel a little less safe than it was before. But in truth, my sense of safety before was based on ignorance rather than true security. This world—what it's become—will never fully be safe.

But we defended ourselves once. We can do it again.

We'll have to.

I'm so tired that, despite the worries, my eyes are already drifting closed. It's been such a long evening, long day, long week, long year. But then I suddenly remember something. My eyes pop open. "Oh. Did you want me to give you a?—"

"No!" He's grumpy again. "You're exhausted."

"I could still?—"

"No! We're not doin' that anymore."

I'm so startled by the words that I peer down at him in the dark. "You don't want blow jobs anymore?" My voice wobbles a little.

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Course I want blow jobs," he mumbles. "When you wanna do it and are in the mood. Not when you're so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. I'm not gonna let you do it just 'cause you think you gotta—like it's a job or somethin'. I only want it when you really want it too."

My cheeks warm with a self-conscious kind of emotional pleasure. I curl up at his side again, wrapping one arm around his waist. His belly is the only part of him that isn't firm. I love cuddling against him. "Okay. Usually I want to do it, but I am pretty tired tonight."

"I know you are. So tonight we're just gonna sleep. Believe it or not, I'm kind of tired too."

I smile, closing my eyes. "But it is my job, you know."

"What?"

"Taking care of you. Making you happy. It is my job. My responsibility and no one else's. It always will be."

He's silent for a minute, but I feel his emotional response shuddering in the air of the room. Then he clears his throat. "As long as you don't forget that it's mutual. Taking care of you and making you happy is my job too."

* * *

Four months later, it's November, which means it's been one full year since I met Jimmy. I wake up on a Wednesday morning, excited about the day.

The strenuous work of harvesttime is over. For a couple of months, Jimmy and I were working so hard and such long hours that we could barely move at the end of the days. He had to stay at his parents' for days at a time to help with reaping, threshing, and winnowing the wheat. Amelia came and stayed with me whenever he was gone for more than a couple of days at a time.

All the time he was working somewhere else, I was responsible for all the work at home—not just the daily chores but also getting in the last produce from our garden and then canning as much of it as I could.

But the hardest work is done. There's not much to be done in the winter except the basics of keeping us and the animals alive. The season might be cold and dark and wet and sometimes icy, but it also gives us a lot of time at home alone.

Today, however, we have an actual task. We need baby supplies. A few of the women are sewing us some baby clothes—I'm fine with mending but not good enough yet to make a garment from scratch—and Jimmy can build any furniture we need. But some things will be hard to make or improvise, and there's an old discount store about twenty miles away that still has a lot of stuff buried in the rubble.

That's where Jimmy has always gone to scavenge stuff we need. All the food and medication and emergency supplies were looted years ago, but there are other items still available with enough digging around. He's uncovered some extra clothes and shoes for me. He's found me stacks of mystery and romance books. He took me there once and let me pick out some pretty rugs and curtains and throw pillows for the house.

But today we're going to look for baby stuff.

At our best guess, I'm not even six months along yet, but the last trimester will go quickly, and we want to be ready before the bad winter weather arrives.

So we're going to sacrifice some of the gas in the ATV and drive there. (Cal and Rachel very generously filled it up with their extra supply before they headed back home, so we still have plenty of gas remaining.) Then we'll come back with as many baby supplies as we can pull out of the rubble.

I'm excited. About the trip. About the baby stuff. And about the baby.

I have a noticeable bump now. And pretty soon we'll have a son or daughter.

It still makes me nervous sometimes. Giving birth without a hospital or medication or equipment for emergencies. And I'm still anxious about the gangs on the border. They haven't made any more direct attacks, but they're pushing against the boundaries more than they used to, and it still feels like they're up to something.

But the truth is I'm not as afraid as I would have expected. Most of the time, I'm incredibly happy in my life with Jimmy. At peace.

And there's no reason not to hope for it to keep getting better.

After we've gotten dressed, done our morning chores, and eaten breakfast, I wander into our small second room while Jimmy uses the outhouse.

We've been working on the room for months now. Jimmy built a wall of shelves to put the extra supplies we've always kept in there and all my books, leaving plenty of room for the baby furniture. He's already built a changing table with compartments beneath it for supplies. I've put pretty yellow curtains up on the window and a green, brown, and yellow area rug on the floor.

I rub my rounded belly and smile at the small space.

"You ready?" Jimmy asks as he comes behind me and wraps his arms around me, rubbing my belly in the same way I was before.

"Yeah. I'm ready. It will be nice in here once we get everything, won't it?"

"Yep. It'll be real nice and pretty. Gonna eventually have to think about what to do about space though."

I frown and look back at him over my shoulder.

He kisses me. "When we have more than one baby."

"Don't get ahead of yourself." I turn around and wrap my arms around his neck. He smells like Jimmy and he looks like Jimmy. My big, gruff, protective, warmhearted bear of a man. "We'll start with one and see how it goes."

"Yeah. That sounds good." He leans down to kiss me. "But I gotta say it's gonna be hard to go back to pulling out every time when we have sex. Gettin' pretty spoiled lately."

I giggle at that and bury my face in his flannel shirt. "You can do it. I have faith in you."

He tightens his arms around me into a hard hug and murmurs, "Good. 'Cause I'm never gonna let you down."