“Worldwide,” West said in a disbelieving breath. He swore. “So you’re saying we’ve got about eight weeks to get this transmitter built, or we’re all dead. That’s it for the human race?”
“Or less,” Dr. Evans said. The pain and regret in his voice ripped through my own heart.
“Let’s get moving then,” I said, dropping down through the hatch so I was standing on my seat, my upper half still out through the hole. “We don’t have any time to waste.”
THIRTEEN
The solar tank could not move fast enough, but at least the sun made it reliable.
We got back on the freeway, and we drove. We did not stop, even when the Bane started showing up in small towns.
There were many destroyed bodies lying in the streets, piles of parts and gleaming metal. My army had been here at some point. Those that were left we either blasted away with the turret, or I turned them on each other.
From what we saw in Vegas and in our travels northeast, we could all guess that the Bane sweep had moved east. According to Bill’s maps, there weren’t any big towns for them to hit for over a thousand miles. If we could move fast enough, maybe we could save some lives.
We were lucky that we had found sanctuary where we did and even luckier that NovaTor was located where it was. If both had been located on the east coast somewhere, we would never have made it out alive. But we were fortunate. There were only small towns, besides Vegas, between New Eden and the location of NovaTor.
Avian passed around the packed last-forever food when the sun reached its highest point in the sky. Soon after that, we pulled off the main freeway and onto a highway. The road was badly cracked and potholes forced us to slow. We could drive no faster than thirty miles per hour.
So we were only forty miles from NovaTor when darkness enveloped us and the solar tank rolled to a stop.
Right as the first flakes of snow started to fall.
I set up our tent as Avian made sure Morgan was set for the night. West had offered to keep watch over her and would get Avian the moment it looked like she needed him. I appreciated this small gesture toward normalizing the relationship between the three of us.
I sat in the entry of the tent, my booted feet on the dirt, my rear end on the tarp floor of the tent. The cold breeze pushed my hair off my face. The air felt fresher out here, crisp and free. Not like in the city.
A few snowflakes clung to Avian’s head and shoulders as he walked up to the tent. He sat next to me, tucking his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.
“Is it weird that I both do and don’t miss the snow?” Avian said.
I smiled. “I know what you mean. It reminds me of home, of Eden. But I do not miss winters.”
“Do you remember two years ago, how much snow we had?” he reminisced.
I nodded. “I think there was snow on the ground for ten weeks straight. I don’t miss sharing a tent with fifteen other people.”
It had been a hard winter. In an attempt to stay warm at night, we had packed as many people into one tent as possible, hoping body heat would be enough to keep everyone from freezing.
Avian chuckled. “Tye hated that. Did you know he slept up in the watchtower every night during that time? By himself?”
“I didn’t,” I said, shaking my head. “But it doesn’t surprise me.”
“I thought for sure I would find him frozen to death every morning when I went to check on him. He was always so stubborn,” Avian said. He leaned toward me, bumping my shoulder with his. “I guess that’s where you learned it from.”
I met his eyes and smiled. There were days when I missed Tye so much. I couldn’t imagine how bad it must be for Avian. Tye was his cousin and best friend, after all. I wouldn’t be half the soldier I was if it hadn’t been for Tye’s instruction.
Avian wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.
“I miss them,” I said. I knew Avian would know who I was including in “them.” I wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else. Saying it to anyone other than him would have made me feel weak, too human. But this was Avian. It was different.
“Me too,” he said.
The snow continued to fall, soft and light. The night grew darker.
Reaching for the lantern he’d set at his feet, Avian slipped his hand into mine. We stepped inside the tent and I zipped the flap closed behind us.
Avian had set the lamp on the floor. He sat on the sleeping bag and slipped his boots off.
As I looked down at him, I marveled at how I could have ever doubted I had loved Avian. As I recalled the last year, it should have seemed so obvious. The way no one had ever been able to understand me like he did. The way no one could comfort me the way he could. The way I could never stay angry with him, no matter what he had done.
I didn’t believe in soul mates, but I did believe in the better half of two wholes.
Avian was mine.
“Tell me what it would have been like,” I said as I knelt and straddled his lap. I brought my hands to either side of his face, letting my fingertips barely brush his cheeks. At that moment, I was drowning in his beauty. “If the world hadn’t ended and you and I had fallen in love.”
He hesitated just a moment, his eyes locked on mine. And then he rolled, making me roll with him, until I was lying flat on my back and he hovered over me.
“I would have swept you off your feet until you couldn’t stand to be away from me,” he said, dipping his head and brushing his lips along my throat.
“That’s true now,” I said, letting my eyes slide closed as his lips trailed slightly further south.
“I would have talked to your father or mother,” he said, his lips tickling the hollow at the base of my throat. “Gotten permission.”
“Permission for what?” I whispered.
“To make you mine forever.”
A smile curled on my lips. Even though I felt completely relaxed, my body was alive and hyperaware of every inch of Avian.
“And then I would have gotten a ring. Something that suited you, but told the rest of the world that you were claimed.” His fingers traced slow, careful patterns up my arm, and finally, his fingers linked with mine. “Remember how I said when I did ask, it would be grand?”
I nodded.
“It would be,” he breathed. The warm air from his lips sent a wave of goose bumps across my skin. “And you’d be speechless.”
I bit my lower lip as his brushed the neckline of my shirt. And I was speechless.
“We’d set a date for the wedding. Make plans. Invite people we loved to attend. You’d find a dress. There’d be flowers, and cake, and music.”
I tried to picture it all behind my eyelids. But that was made difficult because of the way Avian was making my body feel.
“And on that day, you’d walk toward me and I would probably start crying.” His voice suddenly broke into a chuckle. There was emotion behind it though. Avian could more clearly see this picture we would never quite have. If it brought emotion out of Avian, it must have been beautiful.
“We’d say words that would last forever,” he now whispered. He released my fingers to trace invisible lines on my chest with his own. “Nothing to do with ‘till death do us part.’ Because I know love lasts much longer than that. I believe in infinity—which never ends. We’d exchange rings and then kiss for everyone in attendance to see. And we’d be pronounced inseparable.”
As he spoke, I felt my own throat tighten and the back of my eyes stung. While I didn’t care for the glitz and dress and attention, I wanted everything else Avian spoke of. Forever.
I felt a change in Avian’s mood and he shifted himself so his lips could tease mine. “And then it would just be us that night, and for many nights to come. And I would have my way with you as my wife.”