Page 16 of My Apocalypse Mountain Man
"Us," I repeat, testing it.
"Is that okay?"
"Sierra?"
"Yeah?"
"It's better than okay."
She grins and throws herself into my arms, and I catch her easily. This is my life now—this brilliant, fierce woman who chose to stay, who chose me, who turned my isolated existence into something that feels like living.
The world is still dangerous. There are still zombies and raiders and now possibly people controlling zombie herds. But facing it all with Sierra beside me doesn't feel overwhelming anymore.
It feels like the beginning of something extraordinary.
six
Sierra
Oneweeksincetheherd attack, Kole and I have fallen into a rhythm that feels like it's always existed.
We wake before dawn and check the perimeter together. My shoulder's healed enough that I can use my rifle properly again, though Kole still watches me like I might break if I move wrong.
"Clear to the north," I report, lowering my binoculars.
"East is quiet too." He's silent for a moment. "You've been pushing yourself lately."
I tense. "I'm pulling my weight."
"That's not what I meant." He turns to face me. "You take extra watches. Insist on the heavy work. What are you trying to prove?"
"That I'm not dead weight."
"Sierra." He catches my hand. "You're not temporary. You're not on trial. This is your home if you want it to be."
"How do you know I want it to be?"
"Because you're not looking for an exit. I've seen people planning to leave. You're not one of them."
He's right. I'm looking for ways to make myself essential, proof that I belong here.
"I want to stay," I say. "With you."
"Then stay." He lifts my hand, presses his mouth to my knuckles. The gesture is simple but the heat in his eyes isn't.
We finish our patrol and head back for breakfast. I've taken over most of the cooking, not because I'm better at it, but because Kole gets focused on projects and forgets to eat.
"Coffee's getting low," I observe, rationing out careful spoonfuls.
"I know. I've been thinking about a run to Old Pines."
"We should go together."
He pauses mid-motion. "Sierra—"
"Before you argue, consider that someone knows you're here now. The raiders might have regrouped. Those zombie herds were too coordinated to be natural." I set down my mug. "We go together or not at all."
I can see him working through it—the practical benefits of backup versus his ingrained habit of working alone. Finally, he nods.
