Page 76 of Sick(ness)

The silence that followed was thick. Addy crossed the room to him, scarf still clutched in her hands. “You’ll need this,” she said, wrapping it around his neck. Her fingers brushed his skin, and for a moment, everything slowed.

Sawyer’s hand came up, catching hers before she could pull away. “Addy,” he said, his voice low and rough from lack of sleep.

She looked up at him, and her chest ached at the sight of him in the dim light, the strong lines of his face, the steadiness in his eyes that never quite hid the exhaustion underneath.

“You don’t have to say it,” she whispered.

“I do,” he said. His thumb brushed over her knuckles. “I’ll be back. I promise.”

Her lips parted, trembling slightly. “You said that last night.”

He nodded once. “I keep my promises. “

Addy’s throat tightened. “Please, promise me you won’t take unnecessary risks. “

A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “That’s like asking water not to be wet. “

She laughed despite herself, the sound catching in her chest. The laugh died when he moved closer, his calloused hands framing her face, lips pressing against her forehead. His breath warmed her skin as he murmured, “Bank the coals. Stay silent if someone comes. The perimeter Jay set might give you a chance to hide; that’s all. “

Her fingers twisted into the worn fabric of his coat. “To hell with the coals,” she whispered. “Make it back. “

His eyes held hers for a heartbeat before he dipped his head, capturing her mouth with his. The kiss said everything their words couldn’t: fear, need, a promise. When they parted, he rested his brow against hers, exhaling slowly. “I’m yours,” he said quietly. “That won’t ever change. “

A sharp rap at the door shattered the moment. Jay’s voice cut through: “We need to move. Now. “

Sawyer hefted his pack, backing toward the door. “The lock,” he reminded her.

“I will,” she whispered.

At the door, he looked back one last time, that same quiet, unspoken I love you passing between them in a look. He opened it and stepped out into the dim, freezing dawn.

Addy remained there long after it closed, hand against the wood as if she could sense his warmth through it.

Outside, the sound of boots faded toward the tree line, followed by the low rumble of the truck engine.

The cabin was impossibly empty.

She whispered to the silence, “Please, both of you… come back.”

* * *

The road into town was silent except for the steady hum of the truck engine and the crunch of tires over frozen gravel. The storm had stripped most of the snow from the trees, leaving a gray, skeletal landscape around them. The town itself came into view slowly — a handful of rooftops dusted white, broken windows glinting faintly in the pale light.

Sawyer drove with both hands on the wheel, eyes scanning every shadow. Jay sat beside him, rifle balanced across his knees. Neither spoke for a long while.

When they reached the edge of town, Sawyer eased the truck to a stop near the sporting goods store, the same one they’d scavenged before. The front windows were cracked but intact. The sign above the door creaked in the wind, one letter hanging loose.

“Same plan,” Sawyer said, shutting off the engine. “In and out. No noise unless necessary.”

Jay nodded, pulling his gloves tighter. “Got it.”

As they climbed out, the truck’s door hinges groaned in the frozen air. Sawyer cast a quick glance at the rusted blue Ford, its paint chipped away at the wheel wells, revealing patches of orange corrosion beneath. “You’ve had this thing for a while, right? Why didn’t you use it before?”

Jay gave a short laugh, his breath clouding between them as he shook his head. His gloved fingers tapped the dented hood. “Would’ve loved to. I’d been siphoning gas from abandoned cars, mouth tasting like petroleum for days, but when that storm hit, engine noise would’ve carried for miles. Alone as I was, every sound out here’s an invitation for trouble.”

Sawyer nodded, understanding, his boots crunching on the frozen gravel. “You waited it out.”

“Pretty much,” Jay said, patting the truck’s side like an old friend. “It didn’t make sense to risk it without a destination. Truck’s running on a full tank of gas now, enough to get us a couple hundred miles if we’re lucky.”