Page 46 of Glass Rose
“Just tired.” I pick up the flashlight.
“You sure about the watch?” Marcus asks.
I nod.
“We’ll start at midnight,” John says. “Meet me in the office.”
“Copy that,” I say.
“Well, I’m beat.” Alex stretches. “Think I’ll turn in. Got to preserve my strength for the zombie apocalypse, right?”
“Such a commitment to survival,” Dr. Cho says.
“Hey, sleep is important,” Alex says. “Plus, I need to check my footage, make sure I got everything from today.”
“Dishes in the tub.” John rises from his seat. “We conserve water, so they’ll get washed in batches.”
“And don’t you dare post anything,” Dr. Cho adds.
Everyone stands, gathering bowls and utensils.
Sofia moves closer to me, her shoulder brushing against mine. “What happened?”
“Later.” Not here, not with everyone listening.
She nods, accepting the deferral but not abandoning the question. This is what makes her dangerous—she doesn’t look away, doesn’t let things slide.
Alex retreats to his assigned camper, camera clutched protectively to his chest. Dr. Cho follows shortly after, nodding curtly to us all before disappearing into her own temporary home.
Sofia yawns, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “Actually, I’m exhausted, too. Which one is ours again?”
“The one on the right.” John points.
“Thanks.” She bows her head. “For everything. The food, the shelter… It’s more than we could have hoped for.”
John’s weathered face softens. “World’s gone to shit. Least we can do is be decent to each other while it happens.”
I nod to him, man to man, soldier to soldier. “We’ll pull our weight. Count on it.”
“Never doubted it,” he says. “Get some rest. Tomorrow, we’ll figure out a more permanent arrangement.”
The distance between the main area and the camper is short, but with each step, the reality of what awaits becomes clearer—shared space, shared bed, shared night.
I could be the gentleman and let her take the bed alone, get a sleeping bag and lie somewhere else in this warehouse, but… fuck that. She wants me, and I want her.
The monster inside me snarls, wanting to take advantage, to claim what’s so willingly offered. But the man I’m fighting to remain keeps it leashed, content for now with this simple human connection.
Behind us, John and Marcus begin discussing watch rotations and ammunition inventory, their voices fading as we reach the camper door. I place my hand on the small of Sofia’s back as she climbs the two metal steps, guiding her inside our sanctuary.
Who knows what might happen?
“It’s… cozy,” Sofia says.
I close the door. “One way to put it.”
The bed takes up the entire back section. The same bed she slept in this afternoon. She looked so peaceful, her frantic heartbeat calm, when I brought her the bottle of water.
She opens a few cabinets, examining the contents. “They really do have everything. Look. Toothbrushes, still packaged. And towels.”
