Page 49 of Dating After the End of the World
“Don’t,” I say, cutting him off before he can even go down a path that I really don’t want to, especially with him. The last thing I want from Blake is sympathy. He never cared to learn anything about me all those years he spent ridiculing me. And even the brief period when he was kind, he ended up weaponizing the vulnerability I did show him against me.
We make the rest of our walk to the sniper tower in silence, the only sound coming from the crunching of our boots on the slightly frosted grass. The old house, the one we used to live in as a family, now feels like a corpse left out in the desert. All the insides have been picked away, leaving behind the shell of something that used to be warm and safe. The path up to the top contains four flights of stairs, which become tighter as the tower extends out of the house into its own structure, a narrow column with a square room at the top. Windows cover all four walls, each equipped with a quick push release to create a ready aperture when needed for sniping. Yet another addition to the property that I originally laughed at but now I’m thankful is here.
“I know you don’t want me to bring it up, but I just ... I get it. I lost my mom too, right before I moved to Wisconsin. It’s actually why we moved. My dad and I couldn’t stand to be in the same house anymore, not without her in it. We wanted a fresh, new start in a new place that didn’t have a permanent cloud of death hanging over it.”Blake looks out one of the tower windows, as though he can still see that cloud in the distance, like no matter how far away they ran, it was always close by.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say, letting out a strained sigh.
I don’t know how to react or why he’s telling me this. On some level, I think he’s being genuine. But on another, it feels like a trap, another attempt at luring me back in so he can hurt me again.
“How’d she die?” The words tumble out of my mouth, and I’m not sure why I even ask. Maybe it’s because it feels like he wants to talk to me about it, or at least talk to someone about it. Blake always seemed like he carried extra weight with him. I always thought it was his asshole attitude weighing him down, but perhaps I was wrong.
“Cancer,” he says, turning to me. The slight sheen of tears in his eyes glistens from the moonlight.
“Sorry.”
He pulls his lips in and says, “Thanks.”
“Was it sudden?”
“Yes and no.” He shrugs. “Sorry, that doesn’t make any sense.”
I place my hand on his arm. Blake looks down at the touch before meeting my gaze. “No, it does make sense. Loss happens in an instant, but it lasts a lifetime.”
He nods in agreement. “A piece of my heart aches. It always does. Sometimes the pain is sharp and debilitating. Other times, it’s a dull twinge I’ve learned to live with.” We stand in silence for a couple of minutes, exchanging glances with the night sky and one another.
“Anyway.” He smiles, trying to shake off the weight of the moment. “Back to night-watch training. As you can see, this”—he holds out his arms and rotates in a circle—“is the sniper tower.”
“I would have never guessed.”
He ignores my sarcasm and continues with his lesson. “Your dad and I made some changes.” Blake walks to a small table and picks up a massive black spotlight. “This is your best friend up here. It has a million lumens of brightness, equivalent to a hundred thousand candles.” He moseys overto one of the corners and places the handle in a metal bracket that extends and swivels. “We installed these in each corner in case you need to have your hands free to shoot. Originally, we wanted to get the spotlights like prisons have up in the towers and mount them on the outside, but they’re crazy expensive and hard to get.”
“I bet.” I chuckle, amused at his excitement.
He lets on a grin. “Speaking of shooting.” Blake gestures to the three wooden chests sitting beneath the base of the windows. “We custom-made these to house the guns.”
“Smart.” I smile as he continues speaking.
“It’s mostly long rifles with scopes. They’re the most practical for up here. But there are also a few handguns and a shotgun in case you’re ever overrun and need to blast your way out of here.” He’s like a kid showing off a collection of his favorite toys. His enthusiasm is infectious, and I can see now why he and my dad get along so well.
“So, that’s pretty much it. Patrol every ninety minutes and then you chill up here the rest of the time. Some nights, if somebody can’t sleep, they’ll come hang with whoever’s on night watch, but yeah, I think you get the gist.” He shrugs.
“I do.”
“You good on your own for the rest of the night?”
“I think I can manage.”
“All right. Well, you know where I am if any emergencies pop up,” Blake says, walking to the top of the stairs, ready to descend into the main house. He stops before his foot drops onto the top step and gives me a final glance. “Good night, Casey.”
“It will be now that you’re leaving,” I say, not letting him think he’s won me over just because we share a similar painful past.
“Right,” he says with a look of disappointment on his face as he turns and disappears out of sight. “Just try not to get us all killed,” he calls up the stairs.
I smile at his parting remark.
Chapter 21
It’s my third time walking the property, and I’m doing exactly as Blake said, sticking close to the fence line. I don’t want to give him another excuse to say I’m not ready to go on a run. I point the flashlight ahead of me, illuminating the path so I don’t trip over a fallen branch or uneven ground. It’s been quiet, save for some coyotes howling in the distance. The stars are hidden behind the clouds and the moon is barely visible, with just a sliver of it peeking out.
