Evan Arden 01 Otherwise Alone (3 page)

I don’t reply because there’s no reason to respond to that.  I just wait and watch.  She’s looking a
t
the ground and seems to have become suddenly lost in her own mind, likely in nostalgia about her
mom
or some other aspect of
her
childhood.  When she doesn’t say anything after a minute, I switch the r
ifle from one arm to the other and her eyes widen.

At least I have her attention again.

“I had a bit of
an…
an
argument
…with my
driver
,” she finally mumbles.  “I was dropped off in the middle of nowhere.
”

It’s the truth, but not all of it.  I figure it’s all I’m going to get, and since I really don’t care
,
I decide to move on from this conversation.

“Want some water?” I ask.  I move the rifle up to my shoulder, pointing the end at the sky.

“Yes, please.”
  Her relief is obvious, but she is also understandably cautious
in her movements
. 
She follows me tentatively to the door and stands just
outside
of it. 
Odin
sniffs around at her feet, and she pats his head.  He seems undecided about her, likely reflecting my own feelings.

“It’s not particularly cold,” I tell her as I pull a bottle out of what would be a refrigerator if it was turned on, “but it
is
wet.”

“That’s perfect, really,” she says.

I walk near the door and hold the bottle of water just out of her reach.  I’m curious about how she will respond.  Will she step inside the spider’s parlor to get the water she needs to survive?  Or will her own fears and paranoia make her sta
y on the rickety porch and refuse to take the risk?

It takes her several seconds until she realizes I’m not going to move
,
and
she
slowly takes two steps forward.  Our fingers brush against each other’s as she takes the bottle
from
my hand.
  There’s a tinge of red on the tops of her cheeks which wasn’t there before.  She’s embarrassed, but about what?  Is it because she’s taking water from a stranger or because she’s admitting to needing help?

Or maybe it’
s because our fingers touched and she realizes she’s alone with some guy she doesn’t know.

I want to laugh at the idea
, but I manage to contain myself
.

“Thank you,” she says and then clears her throat.  She twists open the bottle and tips it up to her lips.  She starts to drink way too
quickly
, and I
immediately
grab it from her, causing her to startle.

“Not so fast,” I say, “or you’ll make yourself sick.  Sip it.”

I place the bottle back in her hand, and she nods slowly at me.
  She takes a small si
p
, pauses
,
and then takes another.  I return her nod, convinced she isn’t going to make herself puke on my floor now.

“What’s your name?” she asks.

“
Evan
,” I tell her.

“I’m
Lia
,” she says with a smile.  I’m not sure if it
is
due to her continued nervousness or if she really
just
wants to be polite. 
I watch her closely but don’t respo
nd. 
“Um…
Lia
Antonio
.”

Italian.
 
Figures.
  I should have known from her features.  She doesn’t have an
y
accent, though, so she’s not first gen or anything.

I keep staring at her.  I know it’s making her nervous, but I’m not one for small talk and I don’t want her to get the impression that she’s going to stay here and gossip away the evening with me.  I consider picking the rifle back up and making it clear she needs to be on her way.

On her way where?

If I kick her out, she’s dead before
the sun sets
.  What am I supposed to do – o
ffer her a fucking ride somewhere?  I don’t even know – or care – where she’s going.  I’m also supposed to stay right where I am except when I need to go somewhere for supplies.

Getting low on gasoline
.
, I
remind
myself.

Fuck.

I push the thought from my head.  I don’t want to have to spend at least a couple hours in a
truck
with some chick I don’t know.  She’s an idiot for even being here.

I reconsider almost immediately.  She
is
an idiot
,
but
that is
for getting herself in the situation at all, not because she is here now.  She doesn’t have a choice at this point.  Going back out into the desert is suicide.

“Hungry?” I hear myself ask, and I want to slam my head into the wall.

“Um…a little, but really – you don’t have to go to any trouble.”

“Well,” I say, “it’s my din
n
er time, so I’m going to cook.  If you want something, speak up now.”

She steps from one foot to the other a couple of times as she stares at the wood slats that make up the f
loor
.

“I guess,” she finally answers.  “I mean, if you are making
something already, that
would be wonderful.”

Too fucking polite.

We sit at the table
,
and I serve up what I managed to scrounge for dinner.  It’s a better meal than I would have made for myself – definitely.  Fried potatoes with peppers and onions mixed in with it, along with canned peaches and a couple bottles of water.  It still isn’t much, but the way she tears into it
tells me how hungry she really i
s.

I leave the generator
going
,
and the fan point
s
close to us so we c
an
at least be a little more comfortable while eating. 
Odin
plop
s
himself down next to the fan to reap the benefits as well.
  He watches
Lia
pretty closely but backs away when she reaches out her hand.  When she asks me if he’s friendly to strangers
,
I can only shrug.  He really hasn’t been around too many people.  It’s always been just the two of us.

“This is really good,”
Lia
says as she takes another bite of the potatoes.  “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Camping,” I tell her.
  It is close enough to accurate.
  “We did a lot of hiking in the middle of nowhere, so I can make a meal out of most anything as long as I have a fire to cook it.”

“We?” she pushes. 
“You and your family?”

I hesitate before shaking my head.

“I don’t have one.”

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly as she bows her head.  I wonder if she thinks they’re all dead and she’s saying a little prayer for them or something.  I decide to take the moment to get a little distance.

“
I’m going outside for a few,” I tell her.  I need to hook the alarm back up to the truck, which means first running out to the point where she tripped it up and set it off.  “I’ll be
right
back.”

Not sure why I feel the need to tell her that.

“It’s getting dark,” she says softly as she looks out the window.

I don’t reply
because it’s such an obvious observation.
  Will she tell me I’m tall next?
 
After picking up my rifle,
I head out and
Odin
follows at my heels.  He sniffs the ground as he keeps pace with my jog.  Once I reach the
general
area, I follow her footprints in the dry groun
d until I come to the thin, detached
wire and twist the metal part of it back together.
 

Odin
and I run back to the truck and clip the whole thing to the truck’s battery.  I walk slowly around the house using the scope on the horizon
but
see nothing of interest
.  I refill
Odin
’s water dish, feed him
, and head inside again.
  I leave the front door open,
which I do most
nights
. 
It doesn’t have an actual lock on it anyway, and i
t works particularly well this evening
since the fan is on and it creates a nice cross-breeze.

Lia
is still sitting in the same spot, tearing the label from her water bottle.
  I look her over, wondering what’s going through her head.  I can make a lot of logical guesses, but there are still too many parameters.  She could be thinking of her mother, the asshole who ditched her, or what she is going to do now.

“I assume you are stay
ing
here tonight,” I say.  I don’t know if I’m answering the question she is pondering or not, but it still has to be something on her mind.
  Besides, I
feel
resigned to letting her stay.

“Oh, no, no
,
” she says with a shake of her head.  “I couldn’t impose…”

I want to laugh, but she probably wouldn’t appreciate the humor.  I go with straightforward instead.

“There really aren’t a lot of options,”
I point out to her.  “It’s late.
I’m tired and going to bed. 
You can stay or you can go, whatever you want obv
iously, but I wouldn’t go anywhere until tomorrow.”

“I guess you’re right,” she admits.  Her fingers twist around each other on top of the table.

I stand slowly and start collecting the dishes and fill the sink up with water.

“Oh!” she suddenly cries out.  “Let me do that!”

She’s beside me a second later, apparently planning on washing the dishes herself.  I consider for a moment, and then take a step back.

“By all means.”
  I’m curious to see if she really intends to do it or if she is just trying to be polite.  Her hands go into the sudsy water
,
and she begins to scrub.  There aren’t many, and she’s done quickly and efficiently.  When she places the last dish in the drying rack
,
I realize I’ve been watching her the entire time.

Slowly, I pull the towel from my shoulder and hand it over to her.  She mumbles a thank you as she takes it and quickly dries her hands.  She looks around the tiny kitchen area and finds the little loop used to hold towels and threads the drying cloth through it before looking back to me.

For a long moment, I only look at her and try to figure her out.  Some things are obvious – she’s running from someone.  Maybe he dumped her on the side of the road and maybe she ran off, but she’s trying to get away from him.  That much is clear. 
On impulse, I check out her ring finger.  No ring, but there’s a clear mark around the skin – she’s worn one until recently.

Interesting.

Is
it lying in
the dust out there in the road
or hidden away in a little pocket of the backpack she left lying next to the still open front door
?
  I tilt my head to one side and feel the brush of the fan’s wind against my neck.  I need to turn it – and the generator – off for the night.  I do both before walking to the far side of the little room where I live.

It’s still too fucking hot.

Gripping the hem of my shirt, I pull it up over my head and off before tossing it into a basket under the window.  I reach down and
thumb open
the button on my faded blue jeans.  I fe
e
l my mouth turn up into a half smile as
Lia
blushe
s
and look
s
away from me – as if there
i
s anywhere
else
to really look in
the
shack.  I sha
k
e
my head and tr
y not to laugh out loud as I dump
my jeans
around my ankles
,
bend over to
pick them up
,
and fold them a couple of times before placing them in the nightstand drawer.

Deciding to at least leave my boxers on
for her sake
,
I drop down to the bed
and
toss
the thin sheet back just in case she want
s to use it.  It i
s way too
warm
for a blanket, even a thin one, but who kn
o
w
s?  Maybe she i
s one of those who always
need
s
a blanket.