Page 24 of My Apocalypse Mountain Man
"You were thinking it."
"I was thinking it's working better than expected. That's different."
She grins. "Admit it. You like being part of something again."
"I like being part of something with you," I correct. "The rest is... acceptable."
"High praise from the Mountain Man."
"Don't call me that."
"Too late. Tom's been calling you that in his reports. It's caught on. Code name Tracker has been replaced."
I groan and then laugh. The truth is, she's right. Having the network, being connected to other settlements, it does feel good. Safer. Like we're building something that might actually last.
There's a knock at the door—the signal we established with Tom's group. I check the window before opening it, old habits dying hard.
It's Tom himself, grinning like he's got a secret.
"Little early for a supply run," I observe.
"Not a supply run. A request." He steps inside, nods to Sierra. "Janet from Riverwatch is expecting her first child. Dr. Kim wants to be there for the delivery, but she needs someone to cover her radio shift for a few days."
"And you want Sierra," I finish.
"If she's willing. It's only about twenty miles. She'd be gone for maybe three, four days tops."
Every protective instinct I have rebels at the idea. Sierra, away from our mountain, away from me, vulnerable in another settlement.
But then I look at her, and I can see the excitement in her eyes. She wants to do this. Wants to help, wants to be part of the community we're building.
"I'll go with her," I hear myself say.
Tom's grin widens. "Was hoping you'd say that. Janet's been asking to meet the Mountain Man."
"Stop calling me that."
"Never."
Sierra laughs, and the sound of it makes my chest feel tight. Three months ago, I was alone on this mountain, convinced isolation was the only way to survive. Now I'm planning a trip to a neighboring settlement with the woman I love, part of a network of people trying to rebuild something worth having.
"We'll leave tomorrow," Sierra decides. "Give me time to prep someone to cover our station."
"Jim volunteered," Tom says. "He's been learning from you on the check-ins. Should be fine for a few days."
After Tom leaves, Sierra immediately starts preparing. I watch her organize supplies, plan the route, make notes for Jim. She's in her element, confident and capable.
"You're worried," she observes without looking up from her maps.
"I'm cautious."
"Same thing."
"Not even close."
She sets down her pencil and walks over to me, slides her arms around my waist. "It's going to be fine. It's twenty miles. We've handled worse."
"I know."
