Page 27 of All Your Days
“And you’re not?” I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips.
“Well,” Eli says slowly. He slips his hands into the pockets of his pants, his elbows flared just enough to bump into me with each step. “It’s not that I’mnoteager. I just don’t think Daniel is the fella for me.”
“Ah. So is there someone you have your eye on instead?” Even though we’re still walking, it feels like time stops with my question. Why would Iaskthat? What am I even doing here?
Once, when I was really, really young, I saw someone get attacked by a zombified feral pig. The thing savaged the man. Nearly eviscerated him. One arm had literally hung from the sinew and bits from his shoulder by the time the thing was done with the man.
In this moment, where it feels like fate itself hangs in the balance, I can’t help but think back fondly about that pig, and wonder what it would take to run into a zombified beast of my own.Anythingto stop my mouth from running ahead of me and leading me into trouble. I’ll be proposing marriage before I know it.
I can feel the burn of Eli’s eyes on the side of my face. My ears feel hot. My fucking fingers feel like they’re about to fall off from the throbbing in them.
“Yeah, Jacob.” Eli’s voice is soft. He has no idea the way my heart is squeezing painfully in my chest. “There’s someone I’ve got my eye on.”
Well.
Fuck.
Where the fuck are the raiders when I need them? I know I am meant to say something here. Something along the lines of ‘I got my eyes on you, too.’ Which seems like an awful joke, considering the whole ‘watching from afar’ thing I’ve got going on.
Huey would tell me to use my words. Goontie would tell me to make a reference to my massive dick. Kennedy… Well, Kennedy wouldn’t put up with any of this shit. But he’d probably agree with Huey.
I don’t know how to say the words. I don’t know how to say that I’m scared of having what I want because I don’t know if Ican survive losing my world again. And I don’t know how to say that, after these three short days, I don’t know if I can go back to what we had before anyway. That I’ve gotten used to hearing his laugh, and his constant wildlife observations, and the way that he sees the beauty in all the things out here I’ve taken for granted.
That I want more of it. That I want to get to know everything about him. That I’ve fantasised about watching him sketch for fuck’s sake. I want to know exactly how he takes his tea in the morning, when it’s not made over a camp stove, and if he flinches when he does his tests back home.
So I grunt. Again. Like the fucking camels. I must really sound like one, too, because Adeeko’s head lurches forward, his big black lashing batting at me for attention.
“Yo-ho! Lights ahead!” Ryan whoops from the front of our train when the sun is nearly well and truly gone. True enough, torches are blazing, leading the way to the outpost like an oasis in the desert.
The outpost settlement is mostly dark at this time of night, but not the watchtowers spaced periodically around the borders. Bright white floodlights, somehow powered by the sun, light up the tall, wooden tower and the area around them. In each watchtower, a guard waits at all hours of the day. When we reach the first marker, a flag drops from the tower directly to the left of the entry. They’ve seen us.
I whistle for our train to stop and we stand in the road—dirty and exhausted. But we’ll be shot if we go any further without clearance.
“Arms up.” I call out, just like I warned them all over lunch. Thankfully, everyone listens. Our hands are off our weapons, raised high in the air. After a minute, a second flag drops on the right-hand side.
“And we’re clear. Let’s go.” We’re slow making our way, the guard trio bringing up the rear of us, more than happy to let me take the lead—and be the one up front if there're gunshots.
“What happens if you go off the road? There isn’t a fence between the towers?” Eli asks, peering around constantly. Not that he can see far. It’s too dark and the torches don’t give off much light.
“You get shot. You learn pretty quickly when travelling between outposts and settlements to stick between the flags. It’s for your safety, too, that it’s okay to enter.”
“Ah. Is that what happ—” Eli cuts off abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh shit. That was rude. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s okay.” I reassure him. He looks like he’s about to freak out on me. “But yeah, that’s what happened. There were no flags. Sarah wanted to make sure things were okay. She had friends there.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Eli lays a hand on my arm.
I look down at his tanned fingers against my darker skin. In the space of four days he’s managed to offer me more acknowledgement, more comfort, than I think I’ve received in my whole life. And we didn’t even talk for at least a day of that.
I’m too tired to process it. It’s making me think all kinds of crazy thoughts.
“So, where we headin’? I wanna get these babies put to bed.” Lou jumps down from Sheba, ripping Eli and me away from the moment. He snatches his hand back like he’s scorched.
“Yeah. Yeah, yep. Let’s—let’s do it then.”
And with that, we enter the outpost.
Chapter eight
