Echo 8 (23 page)

He sloshed back and handed the crate up to Tess.

“Empty everything out of this and send Jake back down with the box.”

Ross inventoried a second set of shelves, which contained an assortment of camping gear—most critical, sleeping bags and a tent. One container had leaked, ruining the two bags inside. But there were other containers with two dry bags and a stack of blankets.

He crossed to the opposite wall, moving slowly to avoid stumbling over the debris that littered the bottom, and found a rack holding hundreds of wine bottles. He waded farther into the room, freezing when he saw movement.

As the surface of the water stilled, the movement did too. Ross swallowed drily and took a cautious step forward—the movement started again.

He pressed on, sweeping his light as he walked. Finally he let out a chuckle of relief. Wooden wine barrels. Oak, most likely—hardwood. It would burn slower. He grabbed one and pushed it back toward the stairs. Jake was waiting with the empty box, and he traded him for the barrel. He hauled out the rest of the empty barrels—fifteen in all—and then headed back down for a more thorough look at the far end of the room. While retrieving the barrels he'd bumped against something else floating that was more level with the surface.

There were four of these partially submerged objects, all about five feet in length. This was something Ross had seen before, but the hair stood up on the back of his neck anyway. There was no smell of decay—the water was cold and salty. He wondered whether they'd been unaware of the flood danger, or if the smoke had gotten them. He wondered how many other basements had been turned into tombs by fire, flood, or starvation.

Hallways branched off to the right and left at the back of the room. Ross waded a few yards into each, far enough to ascertain both were lined with more barrels. Some empty, some heavy with wine.

His inspection complete, Ross worked with Jake and Tess to transport up food, water, and supplies. He hoped they'd be gone before they went through it all—he didn't want to have to come down here again. He especially didn't want anyone
else
to have to come down here.

When Ross emerged, he searched through the rubble for a stone heavy enough to break up the wine barrels. He found one roughly the size of a soccer ball, mortar still clinging to one side, and bent to lift it.

He couldn't shift it an inch. He tried again, and this time his fingers slipped
into
the stone.

“What the hell?” he cried, yanking his hand back. The surface of the stone caught weirdly at the tips of his fingers, and Ross looked at them, expecting to see blood.

“Looks like you haven't got enough juice for something that heavy, G-man,” said Jake.

Jake came over and lifted the stone. He hefted it shoulder height and brought it down on the wet side of one of the barrels. The rotted wood crumbled under the rock, and he had an easy enough time breaking it up from there.

The guy was stronger than he looked. Tess stood watching him work, and Ross couldn't help speculating about what she was seeing. To Ross he looked scruffy and underfed, even with muscles bulging under the weight of the rock. But maybe that passed for sexy in Seattle.

Ross glanced again at Tess, but now her eyes were on
him
.

Jake stood up, panting, and leveled his gaze at Ross. “It's time, tough guy. I've been where you are, and I promise you're going to go downhill fast.”

“He's right,” said Tess. “Come over to the fire. You must be freezing.”

Tess picked up a tarp from the pile of supplies and spread it close to the fire.

“Go on,” said Jake, moving close.

Ross staggered back a few steps. His body fought him, straining toward what it needed.

Jake glowered at him. “I can't figure out if you want to be a hero, or if you're trying to punish her, but either way it's starting to piss me off. Sit your ass down and let's get this over with.”

Ross moved away from him, horrified by the violence of his own need. Hard as it was for him to be close to Tess right now, being close to Jake was harder.

He moved to the tarp and sank down. Tess knelt beside him, tossing more charred vines onto the fire, and he reached for her wrist.

She flinched and tugged at her arm, and he thought of the other times he'd grabbed her like this. It was a reflex, usually a protective one, but there was always a fleeting expression of panic. He thought about her father and felt like an asshole.

“I'm sorry,” he said softly, opening his hand but letting his thumb rub over her wrist. “That's a bad habit. Just be still for a minute so I can talk to you.”

She sank beside him, eyes settling on his face. “Ross, if we wait too long it'll be dangerous. You'll risk us all. You might kill him, and then we're as good as dead too. You understand that, don't you?”

“I do. But I think you know that trying to keep us both alive will probably kill him too.”

Tess nodded. “I know. We have to go home as soon as possible. But until I can figure it out, we need to alt—”

“You're the one we have to keep strong.”

She frowned. “I won't let you fade.”

“If it comes to that, that's exactly what you're going to do. Don't fight with me about this. You've risked enough for me al—”

“I didn't throw myself at that drug dealer so you could throw your life away!”

The furies howled in his ears. His chest tightened until he couldn't breathe. “You don't need to punish me. I've done enough of that for both of us.”

“I'm not trying to punish you, you pigheaded son of a bitch! I'm trying to keep you alive.”

Her anger flamed out hot and fast, and a tear slipped onto her cheek. Ross slid his thumb up to meet it. “You can't save us all, Tess.”

Her brow creased with pain and confusion. Her lips parted, but before she could say anything Jake had moved to stand over them.

“Do you ever get tired of telling other people what to do?” He reached down and clamped his hand on Ross's shoulder.

The contact jolted through Ross like a gunshot. His hands flew to Jake's arms. He meant to shove him away, but Jake's energy flowed through him, and Ross's fingers dug into his flesh. He heard Jake groan, and Tess shouted something in his ear.

Ross leaned forward, pressing Jake into the ground. Even as he rode the swell and surge of regenerative current, he remembered:
I have to stop.

But Ross found himself caught up in the flood of images firing through his connection with Jake. They were almost all of Tess—a catalog of lust and tender longing. They were harder to break from than the energy transfer itself.

Ross knew Jake had fallen for Tess, but now he was looking at Tess through Jake's eyes. Jake's physical longing was a bleak and desperate thing, but it was her heart that had won him. Her smile. The warmth and generosity she'd shown the man who'd almost killed her. Even the pain she kept hidden, and her visceral loneliness—something Jake understood far better than Ross.

“Try not to fight it, Jake,” Tess's voice broke through Ross's trance. “I don't think he can slow it down, so you're going to have to.”

Ross felt Jake's tension begin to slough off.

The cascade of energy tapered. Ross took a few deep, controlled breaths, and he flexed his fingers.

The recoil of the release shoved him against Tess. He rolled onto the tarp, body tingling from the slap of energy.

“Are you crazy?” Ross rasped.

“Not half as crazy as you!”

“Don't you dare do that again.”

Jake snorted. “I did it for her, not for you, asshole.”

Ross clenched his jaws, nostrils flaring, biting back a retort.

Jake shoved himself to his feet. His legs folded, and he swore as he stumbled to his knees. He reached toward the pile of camping gear and pulled out a sleeping bag. Wrapping it around his shoulders, he stood again and stumbled toward the door.

Ross's gaze fell on Tess's back. Her chin rested on her arms, shoulders and neck rising tightly with every breath.

“Tess, look at me.”

She buried her face in the crook of her arm, hugging her knees closer. Shutting him out.

Jake was right; he was an idiot. And an asshole. He didn't know how to both protect her and be what she needed.

He was no longer sure which was more important.

 

N
OTHINGMAN

Love is a better master than duty.

—Albert Einstein

E
LECTRON BOY
was too tired to range far from the nucleus. Hooking the top of the mummy bag over his head, he shuffled around the outside of the building and hunched against the west-facing wall. The cold of the stones seeped right through the bag.

The haze was thicker above the horizon, and the sinking sun tinged the sky a brilliant mango orange. He pulled the bag like a cape around him as a breeze swept through the valley.

Still simmering with anger—and smarting from unfulfilled desire—he decided right then and there that when Tess figured out a way to go back, he was staying behind. He didn't want to part with her. He could live with the fact she wanted someone else, but he wasn't going to cling to her like a parasite for the rest of her life, or his.

He could be comfortable here, he thought. Sitting by the fire every night, using the wine stash to keep himself pleasantly medicated, he wouldn't notice the bleak surroundings so much. He could think of far worse ways to go. There was a bottle of pain pills in the first aid kit, so he'd always have an out for when he could no longer stand his own company. He wondered if there were any books down in that hole.

“I am legend,” he said, then laughed at his own stupid joke. If only he had a few bloodthirsty zombie vampires for company.

His heart ached in anticipation of losing Tess. He'd known her for what, three days now? Spending so much time in her head made it feel like longer. She felt like family. She felt like sunshine on blighted landscapes. She felt like the missing jigsaw piece of his jumbled-up life. He hoped for her sake that Ross could sort his shit out. Had they all been from the same Earth, Jake would have gleefully taken advantage of Ross's hesitation, but as things were, it was better this way.

Jake's head jerked up as a silhouette inserted itself between him and the sunset.

“Odd man out?”

*   *   *

Tess felt Ross's eyes on her back, but she couldn't bring herself to speak to him. She wanted to apologize for what Jake had done, but the words felt insincere on her tongue. She was
grateful
for what Jake had done.

She heard the tarp crinkle and then felt hands at her waist, lifting her, turning her. He pulled her close, cradling her in his arms, his nose nuzzling hers. His lips lowered, softly caressing.

She sighed against his mouth, relieved and bewildered. Her fingertips pressed into his chest. Ross traced the line of her shoulder until his hand came to rest gently against her throat, where her pulse hammered. He circled the spot with the tip of one finger, and she shivered in his arms.

He parted her lips, and she let her head fall back. He bent over her, tongue pulsing and probing against hers, driving her body into spasms of longing. His hand glided up and cradled her cheek, tongue withdrawing just enough to trace her lips. No one kissed like Ross. No one.

“Tess,” he murmured, drawing back to look into her eyes. His thumb brushed her cheek and one corner of her lips. “I'm not very good at this.”

“Oh you are,” she murmured. “Better than anyone.”

The corners of his lips lifted. “Is that why you put up with me?”

She traced the curve of his breast with the pads of her fingers. “That, plus you have the most beautiful chest I've ever seen.”

His smile deepened. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah.”

His arm tightened around her, and she snuggled closer, cheek against chest. He smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. His voice dropped low, vibrating with emotion as he said, “You scare the shit out of me, do you know that?”

She swallowed, fingers gripping his upper arm and the tensed muscles there. “Why?”

His eyelids fluttered, and he looked away. “The risks you take—with Jake, with Mac.” She felt the shudder run through him. “Your past. Your scars. But mostly because when you're close to me I can't think straight—I can't make decisions. It makes me feel…”

“Out of control.”

He lifted his eyebrows in an expression of outright surprise. “You know?”

“Of course I know.”

“
How
do you understand me so well when I feel like I only understand you well enough to get myself into trouble?”

A quiet chuckle escaped her lips.

“Now you're laughing at me?”

“Sorry.” She chuckled again.

“I don't think you are.” He touched his prickly chin to her forehead. “It's good to see you smile.”

She reached up and cradled his jaw in her hand.

“I don't know what's going to happen to us,” he said, “but there's something else I want you to know. Maybe you know it already.”

She rubbed her fingers over the stubble on his cheek, waiting.

He closed his eyes. “The tension between us … it makes me feel sick.”

Her breath caught, and she nodded. “Me too.”

“I don't want to fight with you anymore.” His hand slid down her back, resting between her shoulder blades. “But I don't know what's going to happen when—”

There was a sudden scuffling near the doorway, and Ross's head lifted.

“Here's my favorite couple.”

Ross and Tess jumped up. “Jake!” she cried.

Mac stood in the doorway—holding a knife to Jake's throat.

“Stay where you are or he's dead.”

Two others came in behind Mac—a man and a woman, both thin and grimy and carrying crude handmade spears. They moved over to the stack of canned food Ross had salvaged and pawed through it with enthusiastic grunts.