Page 12 of Riff

With her out cold, I kept moving at a more punishing pace, wanting to make as much progress as possible if we were going to have to hunker down for hours and hours soon.

I almost thought I was seeing things at first. Like a mirage of water in the brutal desert.

But as I kept moving in that direction, I was sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me.

It was the outline of something solid. But ancient-looking, the wood weather-worn to a gray color with years of the elements beating down on it.

But it was a building.

Shelter.

Something to block out the wind.

I couldn’t risk a fire, though it had a fireplace sticking out of the roof, but maybe there would be blankets inside.

Or food.

I worried it would be too obvious, that someone might see it and figure we would stop to use it as shelter, then surround us.

But I couldn’t force this woman to sleep on the cold ground if I could give her a building.

Even if I stayed up all night and kept vigil.

I had my gun still.

Some bullets.

If the whole crew didn’t come after us, I was pretty sure I could still keep us safe.

Decision made, I headed for the tiny hunting cabin.

I reached carefully with one hand, but the door didn’t budge.

“Vienna,” I called, soft at first, then louder, jiggling my body slightly.

She came alert with a jolt so hard that she fell off of me, crashing to the unyielding ground with a cry of pain, not having any padding on her to ease the fall.

“Sorry, darlin’, sorry,” I said, turning around to find her looking up with confused, wide eyes, until I saw it all come back into focus for her.

“I fell asleep,” she said, brows pinched.

“Yeah, you did. Sorry I had to wake you, but I found a hunting cabin,” I told her, waving at it. “And I think I’m gonna need both hands to get it open.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, slowly moving to push herself up, rubbing her sore butt and thighs as I turned to focus on the door.

Clearly, no one had been here for a long fucking time, because it took a lot more force than it should have to get it open.

But, eventually, the door gave, and it creaked open to reveal a stagnant, dusty interior.

“Come on,” I said, voice soft, waiting for her to move in behind me before going inside.

It wasn’t much.

Four walls that created maybe sixty-five square feet of space. But, hey, it was shelter.

And there was actually a fucking bed against the wall, covered with a wool blanket. Sure, it was a little moth-eaten and smelled musty as fuck. But it would provide warmth. That was all that mattered.

“Sit,” I said, motioning to the bed as I made a beeline for the cabinet built into the wall, praying for some sort of shelf-stable food that hadn’t been eroded or eaten by insects or rodents.

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