Page 31 of A Second Dawn

Aiden too unzips the dark blue overall and shrugs it off his shoulders, never letting go of the steering. At least what he’s wearing looks good on him. His jeans hug his muscular legs just right and the way his long-sleeve shirt stretches over his insane biceps has me staring for too long.

I might also be drooling.

Claudette and I on the other hand are still wearing the kitchen uniforms we donned on the ship. They’re anything but flattering.

But that’s good, right? Because I don’t want to impress Aiden and have any more of his attention on me.

Then again, it doesn’t seem to matter. His gaze is stuck on me more often than not.

I revert to the strategy I used in Switzerland. Not that it was overly successful. But ignoring him and the chemistry boiling between us is the only go-to I have.

I look out over the dark blue water. It’s surprisingly warm for late September. Or is it because we’re baking in the midday sun? Whatever the reason, it’s pleasant.

The slowing of the boat makes me look over at Aiden. He’s spotted a row of sheds with lots of cars parked all over the place and is pulling over to the shore.

Jumping on to the jetty, he makes quick work of tying up the boat. His moves are practised and efficient. It’s obvious he’s done this before. He helps us out of the skiff and leads the way toward the cars.

He doesn’t hide, but strides in long steps as if he belonged here.

I try to imitate his confidence, but who knows if I’m pulling it off? Thankfully, I can’t see myself.

I’m worried someone will stop us or ask questions about what we’re doing here. But we don’t come across anybody as we scramble through the yard cluttered with rusted relics and car parts.

“Is this place a wrecker?” I ask. “I doubt we’ll find anything useful here.”

“You never know. It’s our best option for now,” Aiden replies.

“It’s not looking promising,” Claudette echoes my thoughts.

Everything is in worse condition up close.

“If we find the car, at least it wouldn’t be missed,” I mutter more to myself.

Then I spot a sedan that looks relatively new and make a beeline for it, but upon closer inspection, it’s missing the engine.

“There!” Aiden exclaims, pointing to a weathered Ford Taurus hidden among the abandoned vehicles. Its paint is faded and cracked, but it looks like it might still have some life left in it.

“Has it got an engine?” I call out to him, not wanting to get my hopes up.

He opens the bonnet and gives me a thumbs up.

Claudette and I walk over just as Aiden opens the driver’s door.

“Let’s see if it starts.” He reaches under the steering column, searching for the right wires to connect.

Sparks briefly illuminating the dim interior.

“Come on, come on,” I whisper, urging the engine to respond.

Suddenly, the car rumbles to life, the engine roaring like a beast not ready to wake up yet.

Claudette and I cheer as Aiden takes it for a spin around the yard.

“It will do,” he says when he comes to collect us, and we hop into the seats, me in the front, Claudette in the back.

“Let’s get out of here,” Aiden says, his voice laced with urgency.

We peel out of the yard, tires screeching against the gravel, leaving behind a cloud of dust.

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