Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Campfire

ZACH

The sun has set, and the temperature is dipping fast. This time of night creeps me out the most. It’s when I shut myself in. Seeing the massive beam of wood barring the door should make me feel better. Instead, it puts up a wall between the known and the unknown. Everything in the bank lobby is familiar and safe. But outside, in the darkness, who knows what’s lurking? It could be building, growing, and getting ready to attack.

But tonight is different. Aiden’s here, and it doesn’t seem so bad. It’s funny how the brain works. You can get disoriented when you close your eyes and try to balance on your own. But putting a single pinky finger on another person gives you a point of reference, and you feel steady as a rock.

Before he saved my life—and yes, he did save it—I planned to have him sleep in one of the other buildings. Or lock myself up in the vault and sleep in there. Before I installed all the steel plating, I’d done that plenty of times.

When he held my gun, I was at his mercy. It was my worst-case scenario. He could have forced the combination out of me, stolen what he wanted, and already been on his way. But he didn’t. Aiden is a good person at his core. This is a person I think I can trust my life with on the road.

The cold is creeping in fast, so we stoke the fire a bit to get more heat going. Even with daytime temperatures in the seventies, it can dip into the forties at night.

“Aiden, you get the bed.” I point my finger downward at it, a no-nonsense look on my face.

“I’m not stealing your—”

“I insist. You save my life. You get the bed. It’s a policy of mine.”

“A recent policy?” Aiden makes a wry smile.

“Yes, just enacted.” I laugh.

After a little more grumbling, Aiden relents and settles into the bed. He keeps his backpack close by with one arm hooked around the straps. Guess he’s worried about whatever’s in that box of his.

After marking the day on my wall, I drag one of the lobby chairs near the stove, wrap myself up in a sleeping bag, and sit in it. This will let me keep my eye on things. I don’t expect much sleep tonight, anyway. Too much to think about. Sitting up in a chair will help with that.

Before long, Aiden’s chest moves in a rhythmic motion, and the soft sound of his snoring fills the room. Hearing another person after being alone for so long is so comforting.

On the outside, Aiden looks clean-cut and totally with it, unimpacted by the Great Collapse. But a distinct sadness weighs him down. I saw in full contrast as he watched the movie how his troubles slid away momentarily. He had joy in his eyes, and his smile was broad and genuine. He looked like a different person.

I stare for a long time, thinking of the best way to ask him to take me with him. At some point, I must have dozed off because the sound of yelling wakes me. It’s Aiden. He’s tossing around in bed and making unintelligible noises. The only recognizable word is the name “Marcus.”

His dream continues for a while longer, and then he bolts up. I narrow my eyes to little slits to feign sleep. He tries to catch his breath and maybe even cries a bit. It’s sad to see. The urge to reach out and comfort him overwhelms me. But I resist.

After a few moments, he settles back into bed and drifts to sleep.

*

The next morning, I let Aiden sleep in as I go about my regular routine.

Everything is in working order, like yesterday. The only difference is the extra bit of caution I take walking through town. I used to love the garden. Now, the tranquility of that place is lost. I’ll always have a touch of apprehension.

No rabbits in the snares today, so I return to the bank empty-handed. When I get there, I find Aiden awake.

“You started without me.” He scratches his head and yawns.

“Seemed like you needed sleep. But don’t worry. I’ve got a great idea for a project today.”

“Somehow, I wasn’t worried.” Aiden smirks.

Part of me thinks investing in Elk Springs is silly when all I want to do is get away. But the other part of me worries I’ll be here for the rest of my life, and no matter how many cute guys wander into town, I’ll never escape. So, for now, I’ll hedge my bets and keep improving the place. Plus, that gives me a chance to show off my smarts to Aiden and demonstrate my worth.

Last night, I was thinking about all the extra water capacity, which gave me an idea. The whole town is on a composting septic system, so the drains work. But the town’s well runs off electric pumps, so there’s no water. Placing one of the large drums high enough—say a hundred feet—could create enough pressure to supply water to the bank.

Elk Springs nestles right up to foothills. A steep slope rises behind Main Street, where a mountain stream runs year-round. If we could carry the drum up there, keep it filled with stream water, and connect it to the bank’s water main, it might just work. So Aiden and I spend the better part of the day lugging a large water drum on a trail that switchbacks up the hill.

It’s a hot day, so halfway up, Aiden removes his shirt. I don’t complain one bit. His sculpted form is intoxicating. He has strong, broad shoulders, and his arms make those fun little bumps at the triceps. He’s got a few tufts of hair on his chest and stomach.

Aiden’s looks remind me of my ex-boyfriend, Felix. Same general face shape and body type. Very similar eyes. That was part of what struck me about Aiden when he wandered into my town. I have the slightest twinge of guilt thinking about Aiden in this way while Felix may be alone back in Seattle. But I shove that guilt away. I broke up with Felix for a reason.

Personality-wise, Aiden and Felix couldn’t be more different. Felix was soft-spoken and okay with doing whatever I wanted to do. I would always initiate things in our relationship. That worked for a while, but eventually, it got old. I wanted him to contribute more. Felix was also very loving and fiercely loyal. It broke his heart when I called it off between us.

On the other hand, Aiden strikes me as somebody more confident in how he carries himself and everything he does. Even though I’ve been giving the orders on the jobs around town, I get the sense that Aiden usually runs the show. And that’s exactly the kind of guy I want to help me get home.

What is his deal, anyway? I’ve been getting flirty vibes from him, but something is holding him back. He hasn’t said a peep about his personal life. The only hint I have is that name he called out in his dream. Marcus.

“I think this was the best spot, right?” Aiden’s question brings me back from my thoughts.

We’re at a flat section of the hill, below where the stream collects into a naturally forming pool.

“Yeah, this looks good. Let’s set it down right over there.”

With the tank situated, I run plastic PVC pipe from the pool of water to the top of the drum. An in-line filter in the middle removes the bacteria. It’s amazing what you find when looting people’s houses. The drum starts filling with water, as I imagined it.

In one of his trips down from the junkyard, Ezra brought me hundreds of feet of PVC pipe for irrigation. It was great, but way more than I needed for the garden. An enormous pile has been sitting next to the bank for months, with grass growing through it. Working from opposite ends, we glue the pipes together until they’re long enough to go all the way from the drum, down the hill, to outside the bank. Several hundred feet in all. Navigating it up the slope through all the trees is an interesting challenge. But with a bit of coaxing, we line up the pipe. Next, I cut the bank’s water main with a hacksaw and attach it to the PVC pipe.

Aiden does a drum roll on the counter in the bank’s bathroom while I turn on the sink. Air sputters out for a bit, but then the faucet comes to life, pouring out water. We both let out a cheer. Caught up in the moment, we do a quick hug. Any observer would think it’s purely platonic, and that may be what Aiden thinks too. But it’s magical for me. Aiden’s muscular body presses against mine. The heat of his skin warms me, and I take in his scent. There’s a stirring down below, so I turn away from him, acting as if a dust ball in the corner is the most exciting thing in the room.

Then, the magnificent sound of the flushing toilet fills the room, followed by it filling back up. I turn to see Aiden next to the toilet, smiling. I cheer and pump my fists in the air. After a year of using outhouses, never has there been so much joy over a toilet flush. We attempt a high five but miss badly, then break up into a fit of laughter. Man, do I like him. I haven’t laughed this much since I was a kid. And laughing seems so easy between us.

After our strenuous morning, we take a well-deserved break. While Aiden’s snacking on cold corned beef hash from a can, I wander off to the bathroom. Staring back from the mirror is a person I don’t recognize. I’ve avoided mirrors in the last year. Splashing water on my face from the newly working faucet does nothing. All it seems to do is smear around the dirt and get my beard wet.

God, that beard.

I need to get rid of it. That and this massive mop of hair on my head. What I need is some hot water and soap, a scrub brush and a razor. Tomorrow, I’ll work on getting cleaned up.

After we’ve eaten, there’s still a few more hours of sunlight. So Aiden and I break down the logs we sawed up yesterday. Watching Aiden swing the ax is another exercise in sexual restraint for me. With each swing, his shoulders and lats flex. And his butt pushes out each time he bends over to pick up the logs.

Only Aiden’s wincing spoils the mood. Every few chops, he clutches his ribs and makes a grunting noise, which makes me feel a little guilty for forcing him to do all this strenuous work. But it reminds me of the sounds he made in his dream last night.

Between ax swings, I ask him, “Hey, Aiden. Who’s Marcus?”

He buries the ax in a log and stares at me with a hardened expression. “How do you know that name?”

“You were calling it out last night. During a dream.”

Aiden’s face darkens. He pulls the ax out and starts chopping wood harder than before. Between swings, he says, “He’s just a person I knew once.”

Okay, that’s a touchy subject. I take the hint and ask no more.

*

For dinner, I take the other rabbit from yesterday and put it on a spit. I make a campfire outside the bank and set up a stand so the rabbit can roast, rotating it occasionally.

We sit around the fire in two camp chairs I pulled out from my looted outdoor gear.

Aiden’s been quiet since I asked him about Marcus. Which kind of sucks because I’ve been planning on bringing up my idea of tagging along. I hope to find the right time to slip it into our conversation. But that’s hard to do when there is no conversation.

In a moment of inspiration, I run into the bank and bring out a guitar I found in a nearby home. What’s a campfire without some campfire songs, after all? Practicing the guitar has helped to pass the time.

Mostly, I enjoy strumming chords and singing. I’ve learned a lot of Beatles songs from a songbook I found. Those songs are fun to play because the chords are easy.

I strum the intro chords to “In My Life”, which is one of my favorites.

Singing is one of my joys in life. It’s one thing I can say I’m truly talented at. When the first verse starts, my voice is clear and bright. This gets Aiden’s attention, and he cracks a smile. Near the end of the first verse, he joins in and does the harmony. He has a wonderful voice too. We finish the rest of the song together, each with a big smile on our faces.

“I’m glad you don’t think singing at a campfire is too cheesy,” I say.

“Are you kidding? I was a camp counselor for years. Playing guitar and singing campfire songs were requirements.”

“You play?” I hand the guitar Aiden’s way.

“It’s been a while.” He does a few strums to check the tune. Then, what comes out of the guitar is nothing short of magical. It’s the complex and haunting introduction to “Blackbird,” one of my favorite Beatles songs, and difficult to play. I know this from my own failed attempts. He sings the melody, and I join in with harmony. It’s pure bliss being lost in the notes and hearing the luscious resonating chords. When we’re done, I give Aiden a round of applause.

“You’re amazing. I’m kinda ashamed of my playing now.”

“You played wonderfully, Zach. Nothing to be ashamed of. But that voice. You’ve got me beat hands down there.”

My cheeks are warming, so I change topics to get away from the embarrassing compliments. “Oh, looks like the rabbit is getting close to done.”

I get some canned veggies from the vault and heat them with some olive oil and herbs from the garden. Oil gets used sparingly. Once it’s used up, it’s gone. But if everything goes according to plan, I’ll leave all this behind and head to Seattle with Aiden. So I’m pulling out all the stops.

But as we eat, Aiden clams up again.

“How’s your dinner?” I ask, trying to get the conversation going.

“Oh,” he answers, but his mind is in another place. “It’s good. Thanks.”

This is going nowhere. The direct approach is my only option. “Back in a sec,” I say.

He mumbles an acknowledgment, barely hearing me.

I come back with a backpack full of supplies. I packed it for him earlier in the day. In my last gesture of goodwill, I hand him the pack. “This should last you about a week.”

Aiden sees the backpack, and his eyes come back into focus. He’s present again, as if waking from a dream. “Wow. This is great.” He looks truly sincere. “This means so much to me. You’re one of a kind, Zach.”

“So, when do you think you’ll head out?”

“Well, that kinda depends on you. I could leave as early as tomorrow. But this is a lot, and I want to be sure we’re settled up.”

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that. I was wondering if maybe—um—for final payment—” I’m trembling. I barely get the words out. Here goes. “You could take me with you. To Seattle.”

Aiden looks down at the ground, takes a deep breath, then looks into my eyes. “No. I’m sorry. That’s out of the question.”

“Oh.” The directness of his rejection hits me like a punch in the gut. I hoped he would say yes and might even like the idea. We were forming a bond. Or so I thought.

My disappointment must be transparent. Aiden tries to console me. “Why would you want to leave this? You seem to have a good setup here.”

“This shithole?” I snap more forcefully than intended. “Are you kidding? I’ve hated every moment of being here. I have to get away.”

Aiden keeps this infuriatingly calm tone. “Then why haven’t you headed out on your own?”

“I’ve tried. But it’s dangerous. I don’t think I could make it out there on my own.” Emotions are welling up inside me—emotions I’ve bottled up for months.

“Zach, you don’t know how dangerous it would be to go with me. Look, I haven’t told you everything, but those people that ambushed me? They wanted to kill me. They’re probably still after me.”

“And you don’t know how dangerous it is here. I have to deal with looters and thugs all the time. Just the other night, I was almost killed by a man sick from the disease. It’s only a matter of time before my luck runs out.”

Aiden looks at me with tight lips and then down at the ground. He says nothing.

This might be my last, best chance to get back to Seattle. He needs to understand. Tears are welling up, but I fight them back. I can’t look weak.

“Going to Seattle is extremely important to me. All I want to do is find my family and my boyfriend. I have to know if they’re okay.” I fight back panic. In my outburst of emotion, I outed myself to this near stranger. I’ve been out and proud since I was fourteen, but without the safety net of civilization, you don’t know how people will react.

But he doesn’t freak out. In fact, his face softens, and he looks me in the eye. “Look, I need some time to think it over, okay? Let’s talk about this tomorrow?”

“Okay,” I utter under my breath.

Fear keeps me from telling him about the car. As certain as he was about saying no, he might try to force it out of me, and I’d be stuck here forever.

With nothing left to say, we scatter the campfire ashes and get ready for bed. It’s the same arrangement as last night—Aiden on my bed and me sitting in the chair. I’ll make my last appeal to him tomorrow. He needs to agree to take me before I mention the car; that’s my last bargaining chip if all else fails.

I’m not sure when I nod off, but the sun is streaming through the portholes when I wake up. The front door is closed, and the beam barring the door has been lifted. In a panic, I turn my gaze to the bed.

Aiden and all his belongings are gone.