Until the End of the World (Book 1) (45 page)

The way they talk and laugh makes it seem like everyone here really does get along. Whenever someone catches our eyes, they smile or wave. People who pass our table make sure to welcome us, but they don’t press us for information. Probably because we sit here wide-eyed and shell-shocked from the sheer amount of people and the unbelievable fact that we’re safe. We don’t need to spend every moment listening for the rattle of cans or the crunch of something walking in the woods.

Maureen steps through the wide front door, and I tense up. She shakes her head. No plane yet.

She pulls up a chair and smiles. “You all clean up well. Are you settling in all right?”

“Just fine,” John says, and runs a hand through his damp hair. “Say, I was wondering how it works here with jobs.”

“Well, we try to get people to do whatever interests them. Let’s see, there are the gardens and crops, of course. Then there’s construction, managing the electrical system, guards and patrols, water, livestock, kitchen and preserving. Lots of people do a little bit of everything. There’s a schedule where you sign up.”

“I’d like to work in the gardens,” Ana says. “Can you be a guard and do that?”

“Sure. Most adults take guard shifts. It’s the patrols that are more dangerous.” Ana’s eyes light up at that.

“So you know about gardening?”

John tells her about the gardens we left behind.

Maureen looks impressed and then enlightened. “No wonder you didn’t fall on the fresh produce like you hadn’t seen it in months. That’s what most people do when they get here, you know. You guys already know this stuff, then. Everyone will want you on their teams, for sure. I knew a bit about flower gardening before I got here, but this has been a learning experience. The only thing I ever did was open a can, not put things in one and cook it up.”

She laughs and turns to Bits. “And you’re Beth, right?”

“Yes,” Bits says through the cookie in her mouth. “But most people call me Bits now. Like Little Bits.”

“Well, Bits, I know of at least two kids your age who would love to play with you. How about you and one of your friends come with me after lunch to find them?”

Bits nods and drains the last of her milk. Maureen waves someone over. He’s on the small side but packed full of muscle, with curly brown hair and a friendly face I remember. It’s Ben, Adrian’s partner.

“Ben, these are some friends of Adrian’s that arrived today,” Maureen says.

“Hey.” He smiles. “I heard people came but didn’t know you knew Adrian.” He shakes hands as Maureen introduces us. She gets to me last.

“I’ve met Cassie,” he says. Something flickers in his eyes when he smiles at me. It might’ve been uncertainty.
Join the club, Ben
.

“Hi, Ben,” I say. “This place is absolutely gorgeous. I can see why you chose it.”

He thanks me and talks a minute longer before he’s called away. His gaze lingers on Ana as he says goodbye. She gives him a polite smile and looks down at her cloth napkin. If I’m an awful flirt then Ana is a natural-born one, but she doesn’t look up again until he’s gone.

We help bring the dishes to the kitchen. It’s huge, with several wood cook stoves and a pantry. I stop and look out a window on my way to the trough sink. They all have a gorgeous view of the mountains; I’ve never seen anything like it.

Maureen comes up. “The plane will be here in about thirty minutes. The landing strip isn’t far. There’s an equipment shed that doubles as a pilot hang out. You can wait in there if you want.”

My feet are stuck to the ground. Nelly pries the tray out of my hands, takes it to the sink and returns. “Do you want me to come with you?” he asks.

I shake my head. As much as I love Nelly, I don’t want him to witness what’s probably going to be something I’ll never want to talk about with anyone.

I follow Maureen down a side road to a shed with a small loft and windows.

“I have some stuff to do outside,” she says. “But if you need me, I’m out here. Should I leave the door open?”

I nod. “Thanks.”

I can see the runway, a wide swath of brown cut into a field. I pace the room and look at the maps on the wall without seeing them. I try sitting, but I can’t sit for more than a minute before I jump back up and pace again.

I run through all of the possible reactions Adrian could have to my presence. Almost every one of them makes me cringe. The best I can hope for is that he still loves me and eventually he’ll forgive and trust me again. I broke his heart, after all.

I take a gulp from my water bottle with trembling hands. My heart thuds, my head is full of white noise and I’m covered in a cold sweat. So much for the shower. “You’d think you’re going to the guillotine,” I say out loud. Great, now I’m talking to myself.

I’ve lived without Adrian before, but I wasn’t really living. I was just killing time. And now, especially now, I want to eke out every moment of happiness I can. Three years ago I found out how it can all end so quickly, but I didn’t learn the lesson it should have taught me: to hold tight to the things I still had. Instead, I forced them away.

I think of Peter and how he never had the chance to tell Ana how he felt. What’s most important is not that I like Adrian’s answer, but that I pose the question in the first place.

I hear the engine before I see it and step to the doorway to watch. The white plane circles and comes in for a landing. It hits the ground and races along the strip until it stops fifty yards away. The door opens.

I rehearse what I’m going to say for the hundredth time and wipe my palms on my thighs as Adrian steps out. He wears jeans, black work boots and a jacket, which he takes off to reveal an olive green t-shirt. He leans back inside the plane to say something, then waves and turns.

He looks the same as he always has: the cheekbones, the ever-present dark stubble and the nose that turns his looks from pretty to handsome. I know every inch of him, from his ugly toes that I would tease him about, to the scar on his temple from the chicken pox when he was five. But it’s been so long that he also looks new, like a stranger.

Maureen moves to him, a rake in her hands, and he touches her shoulder as she speaks. Adrian not only makes you think he wants to hear every word you say, he really does. She gestures toward the shed, and he goes still. I wonder what he’s thinking. I know I should go out there, but I can’t.

His mouth moves, and at her nod his jacket drops out of his hand onto the dusty ground. He spins and moves toward me. I back into the shed and listen to his boots pound the path. In that awkward moment when he comes in and stops, that’s when I’ll say what I’ve practiced. I’ll get it all out before he can say anything: how sorry I am, how ashamed I am that I hurt him and how I never stopped loving him.

I take a deep breath as he strides into the shed. His eyes match his shirt, and they’re full of disbelief.

“Adrian, I’m—” I begin, but he doesn’t stop. His steps never falter as he makes his way over and folds me in his arms. His heart beats as fast and hard as mine.

“You’re here.” His voice is like a prayer. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

He holds my face up to his. His hands are rough and cracked and smell like gasoline. I don’t think I’ve ever felt anything as wonderful as those hands on my face.

“I’m so sorry. I—” I try to get the words out, but his mouth covers mine in a kiss so raw that I can’t do anything but respond. I can’t even remember what I wanted to say, because I’m lost in the kiss I’ve dared not imagine for two years. He feels the same, tastes the same, and it’s like coming home.

It’s so much more than I deserve. Why did I think he would hate me? I’m the kind of person who might not forgive so easily. He’s an open book. There’s nothing but joy in this kiss and the way his hands hold me like I can’t possibly be real, like I’m something precious. A sob escapes and he pulls back, although he doesn’t let go.

“What’s wrong? Is this—?” His hands drop. I want them back on me, even if I don’t deserve them.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’m so sorry for what I said to you. For what I did. I just want you to forgive me.”

His brow creases, and his voice is tender. “I already have. A long time ago. I love you.”

It makes me cry harder, and he wraps me in his arms. We stay like that, with his chin resting on my head, the way we used to.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you on your birthday.” His voice rumbles in his chest when he speaks. “Where you were, if you were safe, so I had them fly to the cabin the next day. We’re not supposed to use fuel for that, but I didn’t care, I couldn’t take it anymore. The house—” his voice breaks, “—it was burned to the ground. Lexers were everywhere. I made them fly back and forth, over and over again, trying to see if one of them was you and—” He stops and his body shakes.

I rub his back. “I’m okay.”

“I was so sure you were okay. So sure. I knew you could get out of New York. But when I saw the house, I thought I was too late. I hated myself for not coming sooner.”

He blames himself, when I’m really to blame. I shake my head against his chest. “No. I should’ve contacted you somehow. I was too scared you didn’t want to talk to me, so I didn’t.”

He loosens his grip and raises my chin with his hand. “I would never want—”

“Adrian!” A young, fair-haired guy clomps into the shed. “Oh. Sorry, man.” He looks more intrigued than sorry.

“What’s up, Marcus?” Adrian asks, but he doesn’t move and holds me tighter so I can’t move away.

“Um, there’s something smoking in the electrical shed. We kind of need you.”

“Where’s Janine?”

“She’s at Cob Creek for the night. We heard the plane, and they sent me for you.” Now he really does look apologetic.

Adrian sighs. “Okay. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Sure,” Marcus says, looking at me curiously before he leaves.

I smile at Adrian. I can’t believe I’m standing here in his arms.

“You okay?” he asks.

I’m better than okay. I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him softly while I cup the back of his neck. He gives me that gentle look, the one Nelly called soft a million years ago.

“I love you,” I say. “I really do.”

“Good.” We laugh, because that’s what we used to say, and it’s nice to be back there.

A girl with a buzzed head pokes her head in and winces like she got the job no one wanted. “Hey, A. Sorry, but there’s really a lot of smoke.”

Adrian nods. “Coming right now. I’ll meet you there.”

I give him a gentle nudge. “Duty calls. Go put that fire out. We’re all in one of the big tents in the back.”

He looks at me incredulously and grabs my hand. “No way. Come and put out the fire with me. And who’s
we
?”

He pulls me out the door, and we walk up the path as I tell him.

Adrian drags me around the entire afternoon, not that there’s any real dragging involved. When he pees I have to stop myself from following, and I pace outside the bathroom until he returns. Our permanently-linked hands get curious glances when he introduces me while attending to a million tasks. I must look like a maniac; I can’t stop smiling.

He takes me to the unfinished cabins and pulls me through a doorway. The walls are filled with insulation, and it’s fitted with a wood stove made out of a metal barrel. Everything else in the world has fallen apart, but this place is growing.

“How did you do all this?” I ask in wonder. “It’s incredible.”

“No it’s not.” He shakes his head and sits on a low shelf built onto a finished wall. “While everyone else was trying to get to safety, I was already safe. It was just a matter of recognizing what was happening and doing something.”

“No, it
is
incredible, because instead of closing the farm, you opened it up. You welcomed people. You’ve inspired them to do all of this.” I point out the glassless window.

He shrugs and looks down. He thinks that anyone would do what he’s done. He doesn’t realize how rare he is. I think of how this works to my benefit because I’ve never been sure that I deserve someone so intrinsically good. Maybe no one’s good enough for him.

“I love you,” I say.

He keeps his head lowered, but I see his dimple and know he’s smiling. He draws me to him and loops his pinky through the ring on my neck.

He runs it along the chain. “You still have it. Why are you wearing it around your neck?”

I’m embarrassed by my superstition. “I felt weird putting it on. Like I shouldn’t wear it until I knew.”

He glances at me. “Do you want to wear it now?” I know his question is about more than putting on the ring.

“Yes,” I whisper.

He removes the ring and slides it on my left ring finger.

“It still fits,” he says, and kisses my hand. “Just like us.”

I can’t find my voice to reply, so I bring his hand to my mouth and brush my lips over his fingers, one by one. When I look up, his eyes are hooded and so hungry that my breath catches. He stands and lifts me onto the shelf. I pull him to me and taste his lips, his tongue, his neck. He twists a handful of hair behind my head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into my mouth.

Everywhere his body touches mine is warm and liquid, like we’re melting into each other. His hand runs under the waistband of my jeans, and I arch into him. The skin under his shirt is so warm, so smooth. There’s no way I can stop, I think, right before the cabin wall behind me begins to shake with the pounding of hammers. I jump in surprise and knock Adrian’s head with mine.

I rub my forehead and grin. “Ow! Sorry.”

Adrian looks so silly with one eye squinted closed that I break into laughter. He holds a hand to his head and smiles.

“Isn’t there any privacy in this place?” I shout, still grinning.

He takes my hand. We fall through the door into the late afternoon light, and he waves at the people who hammer siding onto the cabin.

“Not much. But being one of the owners has its perks. I have my own room in the farmhouse. I’d been thinking of giving it to a couple, but…”

I squeeze his hand. I want to be in his room with him, but now that I’m cooling off I feel shy and can’t say it. This is not uncharted territory with Adrian, but I feel like a virgin on her wedding night. A bell clangs somewhere.