Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

Tough Choices

ZACH

We head back north, looking for a good campsite. The area around the Columbia River Gorge is arid. No trees or vegetation anywhere—just a vast canyon desertscape with a massive river running down the middle. But we finally find a little overlook with a view of a dam that crosses the river. A rocky knoll provides cover from the road where we can park the car and set up camp.

Aiden’s been acting strange since we left Cedar Grove. He seems distant. Distracted. I’ve noticed he chews his lip when something is bothering him. And I guess it turns out that worry was the Columbia River.

Crossing a river is something you’d take for granted before the Great Collapse. A pretty view for a couple of minutes on an otherwise boring drive. But now the river is a barrier. I imagine how an explorer might have felt hundreds of years ago, seeing a massive river lying in their path.

I keep looking at the dam. “What do you think about trying to cross there?”

“It doesn’t have a road,” Aiden says quickly. “We couldn’t drive across.”

“We could walk across. Bring the battery charger. Hope for the best.”

Aiden shakes his head. “With as much work as it was getting this car, I’d rather not ditch it if we don’t have to.”

He seems set on not considering the dam, so I let it drop.

We go without fire and eat a cold dinner. Jo had packed us some sandwiches, complete with homemade bread. It’s the first time I’ve eaten bread in ages, and I didn’t know a sandwich could taste this good. Aiden sits in his chair, lost in thought. He’s been saying almost nothing and barely looking at me.

Our time at Cedar Grove almost feels like a dream now. The kiss with Aiden was magical. But we haven’t talked about it at all since then. And the longer we wait, the stranger it feels. I’m starting to think maybe it was a dream.

After dinner, I find a pleasant spot to admire the vista. I sit on the ground with my back up against a sloping rock. I have a stunning 180-degree view of the entire river gorge. After a while, Aiden comes over and stands next to me.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” He points to the patch of dirt to my left.

“Well, I was kinda saving it for somebody. But you seem like a nice guy. Go ahead.”

Aiden sits and puts his arm around me, filling me with warmth. Maybe the magic from Cedar Grove hasn’t entirely left.

“I wish we could have met at a different time.” Aiden stares ahead. “Under different circumstances.”

“We’ve got to make the most of what we have in the time we have it.”

“You’re pretty wise, Zach. You know that? Like a Baby Yoda.”

“Grogu!” I smile and smack Aiden’s shoulder. “But thanks.”

We sit together and watch the scene unfold before us. The sunset is spectacular. Clouds on the horizon turn vivid colors of red, orange, and yellow. The golden light shimmers off the flowing river.

When the sun finally drops below the horizon, we head off to bed. The temperature dips pretty low, so we both have full sleeping bags and tents. No sleeping under the stars tonight. Aiden heads to his own tent. I half expect an invitation to join him. Or, at the very least, a goodnight kiss. But I get neither, and my heart breaks a little.

I lie awake for a while, wracked with worry. Wondering if Aiden regrets our kiss. Wondering what tomorrow will bring. Wondering what will happen when we get to Seattle. We have yet to talk about that as well. I’ll want to go to Vashon Island to find my family, and Aiden has his own business to complete. I hope we can do both of them together.

After lying awake for a long time with my racing thoughts, my mind finally quiets, and I fall into a restless sleep.

*

AIDEN

I wrote a note when Zach was watching the sunset, then slipped it into his jacket along with the car keys.

Zach,

Let me start by saying how much you’ve meant to me. I’ve kept you at arm’s length, not because I don’t care but because I care too much. My mission is more important than my own life. That’s a choice I made. But it’s not a choice I can make for you. If I told you, I knew you’d follow me. And I can’t have you dying for my cause.

I don’t regret our kiss. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I hope you understand and can find it in your heart to forgive me. And I hope we meet again under better circumstances. I’ve left you the car keys. You should go to Portland. That will be the safest route. Without me, it will be way less dangerous. I know you can make it. I wish you the best.

Aiden

PS: If we both make it through this, I’ll wait for you every Sunday in Volunteer Park in Seattle at the Black Sun statue at noon.

At about three in the morning, when I’m sure Zach is fast asleep, I break down my tent and pack up. With a deep sigh, I take one last look, then turn toward the dam. I picked our campsite to be within walking distance. The dam is less than a mile away.

I don’t want to leave him, but I have to. Thinking about it tears me up inside. This is the right thing to do. I’m sure of it. Zach’s life has already been at risk multiple times. When he tried to sacrifice himself at the gas station, my heart felt like it would rip in two. I simply can’t take the thought of him being hurt, especially on my account.

Running is easy at first. We camped up on a slope, so it’s all downhill. I half walk and half jog through the arid land and sagebrush. Soon, I get to the highway, which I cross, then turn south. The dark outline of the dam is before me.

The whole time I run, thoughts of Zach fill my mind. His tender smile. His soft lips. His kindness and patience in everything he’s done for me. Imagining him waking up and reading my note makes me profoundly sad, thinking about the pain it will cause him, all because of me.

I’m about halfway to the dam when the aching in my chest starts. This pain is familiar. It’s an emotional pain, but it hits me so hard that I can actually feel it radiating from my center. The force of it nearly knocks me over. Each step I take is heavier than the next. I’m finding it hard to keep moving forward. I’m doing the right thing, but I can’t figure out why it feels so wrong. This makes no sense. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I do this? I’m stronger than this.

That’s when it hits me. The realization lands on me like a ton of bricks. I’m not doing this to protect Zach. I’m doing this to protect myself. This whole time, I insulated myself from my true feelings. But the wall I built around my emotions is crumbling, and it’s hitting me hard and raw. I care deeply about Zach, and the idea of leaving him is tearing me apart.

I convinced myself that leaving him was inevitable. I’ve been doing this the whole time: when I left him in Elk Springs, when I kept looking for cars to head off on my own, and now. I keep making the same mistake.

Walking forward becomes impossible. My body won’t allow it. I can’t leave him. Whatever our fates, we need to face them together. I turn around and start heading back to camp. The weight that held my feet down lifts, and my walk becomes a run. I need to get back before he wakes. Before he finds my note.

Headlights shine down the road. Two sets of them heading toward me. I hit the ground, hiding behind some sagebrush, hoping they won’t see me in the darkness. Hoping they’ll pass by without noticing the figure lying by the side of the road. But before they reach me, the cars turn off the road.

They’re headed down the road to our campsite. They’re headed right to where Zach lies asleep, unaware of the danger headed his way. The danger I put him in. Again.

I jump up, sprint toward the camp, and grab my rifle out of my backpack. I turn off the safety. No matter what the cost, I am ready to defend Zach. I won’t let anyone hurt him.

Not while I’m still alive.