In a way, a night with a watch period was worse than her usual routine of nodding off and waking up: watch periods took forever; they were boring, and you had to stay awake and alert while you got more and more exhausted. On the flip side, once you got to sleep, you could sleep. Unless something barged into your camp, every sound and disturbance would be investigated by the other party, meaning you could just roll over and go back to sleep.
Provided you trusted the other person enough to have your back.
Lynn wasn’t sure if she trusted Dani right now, but as soon as her time to sleep came up, Lynn would sleep. Her exhaustion was all-consuming.
She stretched out her legs and groaned. Definitely time for a walk around the house. Lynn descended the steps to the pavement.
Everything was still quiet. The moon shone brightly, just a touch past its full glow. Away from the fire, the world smelled fresh. The roads had been washed clean. Tomorrow, every tree, shrub, and blade of grass would be green and lush. It would be cooler, which made travel more pleasant. Hopefully, it would be sunny. Lynn smiled. Dani would like it that she was enjoying the world around her.
Lynn passed the third house to the left of their shelter and turned around. She walked back to the house. Dani had set up the bed out of sight of anyone or anything passing by, but Lynn could picture her sleeping soundly under the windowsill, with an arm around Skeever.
The thought made her smile. There was a lot of reassurance in knowing that if you called for help, it would be there in seconds. It was also good to have someone to talk to, to shoulder the burden of surviving the night with. Of course, these were all what Dani would call selfish reasons. Lynn still took issue with Dani’s assessment of her. Wasn’t it a natural thing to like something because it made life better? Lynn could only assume Dani was sleeping more soundly because of Lynn’s presence, and she’d enjoyed the goose for sure. So, was that selfish too, or was it only selfish when Lynn did it?
The topic quickly caused another headache. Lynn decided that this was one of those things she wasn’t going to figure out. It was time to claim her sleeping period. Maybe she’d have the mental energy required to find a way to prove herself after a few hours of sleep.
Dawn arrived without the desired clarity, but with a general lethargy of too much sleep on a sleep-deprived mind and the gnawing of an empty belly. Lynn turned over and noticed Skeever was gone. She blinked her eyes open and looked around, trying to remember where she was. The memories of the house returned to her in a trickle, followed by a flood of Dani’s accusations. She groaned and threw her arm up to hide her face in the crook of her elbow.
“Morning, sunshine.” Dani sounded bemused.
“Morning.” Lynn sat up. If she’d thought she’d had muscle aches yesterday, today’s pains were much more severe. Everything below her ribcage felt like a lemon, squeezed and sour. She yawned, and scratched her belly through her jacket. It was either cloudy or earlier than Lynn had thought, because it was gloomy inside the house. Lynn sheathed her knife in her boot and got up. She stretched, kicked out her legs, and made her way to the door.
Dani sat on the upper step with one of Lynn’s tins in her hands. “I made you some too.” She pointed behind her. “Rainwater tea with some lemongrass.”
On the edge of the fire stood another tin with a sprig of green protruding from its steaming contents.
“Thanks.” Lynn checked the temperature of the tin before she took it and joined Dani on the step. She groaned again as she lowered herself down.
“Sore?” Dani’s hazel eyes inspected her.
Lynn nodded. “And as stiff as a board. It’ll pass.” She wrapped her hands around the tin to ward off the chill in the air. It was definitely an overcast day. There would be more rain. “How was your shift?”
“Uneventful.” Dani’s gaze tracked Skeever as he rummaged through the strip of green separating the parallel road from the 95.
He sat down to poop.
Dani looked away. “Some rustlings and rumblings, but overall it was peaceful. I think the rain scared everything off.”
“I had the same feeling.” Lynn sipped gingerly. The warm liquid coursed pleasantly down her throat. She cracked her neck. “Do you need the fire for anything else? I was going to make some bread for breakfast.”
“Go ahead.” Dani’s gaze lingered on Lynn before she returned it to Skeever.
Lynn took another sip, then got up to fetch her pack. She measured out flour, added water, and split the dough into balls that she flattened with practiced skill. As she worked, her gaze was drawn to Dani, to check if she was watching her, but Dani seemed more interested in the world around them. Lynn went back to work with a mixture of relief and anxiety in her gut. She was postponing the inevitability of Dani’s decision, but it wouldn’t be long until the subject came up. Flattening the balls into thin, plate-sized circles was a chore of seconds. They sizzled as she laid them out over the coals. Instantly, the smell of bread filled the air, and Lynn’s stomach contracted.
Skeever returned and ambled up the steps.
Dani caught him before he reached the plateau. “Not for doggies.” She captured his head and pressed hers against it as she scratched him behind the ears. “That’s people breakfast. Go find your own.” She turned him around and sent him down the steps.
Skeever merrily left the yard.
Lynn smiled at him and looked around to make sure no surprises awaited him. When she felt confident the area was void of predators, she rummaged through her pack for the pears she’d picked yesterday. “Here.” She held up one for Dani.
Dani glanced at it, then up at Lynn before she took it. “Thanks.” She bit into it. Juices trickled down her chin. “Very nice.”
Lynn shrugged the bit of gratitude away. She bit into her pear and held it between her teeth as she cut up another. Another scavenge through her backpack landed her a couple of chunks of goat cheese. Her fingertips were well-adjusted to heat, and the coals didn’t hurt her as she flipped both flatbreads over. Their undersides had bubbled and browned. She wiped some ash off them, then topped each with bits of pear and cheese.
Dani watched her quietly all the while. She ate her pear with small bites and wiped her chin.
Lynn glanced up and met her gaze. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
A warning spiked icily down Lynn’s spine. “About your decision?”
Dani’s gaze flitted to the fire. “Yeah.”
There it is. Lynn resigned herself to the inevitable. “Did you decide?”
Dani continued to watch the goat cheese melt. “No.”
Their eyes met again.
“No to traveling together, or…?”
A moment of hesitation. “Here’s the problem. I am going to get Richard’s body, and I am going to bring it to the Homestead. I’d much prefer traveling together, but you don’t want me to go through with this, so I’m not sure if this partnership has a chance to succeed.”
Lynn hummed. That was pretty much the same conclusion she’d arrived at. She plucked one of the pancake-flat breads from the coals and offered it to Dani on her plate.
Dani took it but made no move to eat.
Lynn pulled the second flatbread from the fire and balanced the stiff disk on her fingertips until the worst of the heat had drained from the bottom. Then she sat on the top step with Dani and watched Skeever. “I don’t want to risk my life for this.” She blew on her bread, then glanced at Dani.
“I know. That’s what I thought.”
“But…” Lynn took a deep breath. “The odds are better no one dies if we do this together.” She groaned inwardly. You did it now, Tanner. You just had to go and be stupid. But she didn’t see an alternative. She didn’t want to walk away, and she didn’t want to go through with it. Sitting on this step forever also wasn’t an option, so she chose the one scenario that had the potential to lead to a positive result.