Two more people he knew he could rely on came over then. The Franes, their backpacks on, ready for the journey. Amina walked holding her mother’s hand.
“Hello, Zach.” Amina greeted him before her parents did, smiling as if this whole trip was a holiday. She carried the rag doll with the long legs. Leggy Peggy, he recalled.
“Hello, Amina. Hello, Peggy,” he said in a serious tone, making her giggle at him.
“The distress signal is still sending,” Simon said. He held up the small but powerful radio they’d brought. “Loud and clear.”
“What exactly did you do to hide it?” Zach asked, impressed.
“Trade secret,” Visha said. “But they might well have to blow up the comms center to get it to stop.”
“You’re going to be able to receive any signals from rescue ships when they arrive?”
“No problem. Also brought along a couple of radio beacons to help them locate us. And these.” He held up a pocket-size device in each hand. “Walkie-talkies. Half a dozen of them. Practically toys, really. But they don’t need a network, so as long as their batteries last we can use them to communicate within the group once we’re out of range of the Link network.”
“Oh, good idea. Give one to Doctor Howie so we can always contact him fast.”
“Already done. And I gave one to Barbara. Visha and I have one each, and you and Adam get the last ones.” Simon handed the two over to Zach.
“Thanks.” Zach finished adjusting the contents of his pack as he saw Adam heading his way too. “Stand by. We’ll be going soon.”
The family moved off, greeting Adam as he arrived. Adam. He looked so beautiful. Like back at the fields, the sun turning his hair into spun gold. A demigod wearing a simple T-shirt, arms bare, a long-sleeved shirt tied around his waist, his large backpack resting easily on his shoulders.
At least Zach had had a chance to make love to him as he’d longed to so intensely. If he died here, at least he took that memory with him. Or, if luck smiled on them, he might have a chance to make some more memories.
“Everyone’s ready,” Adam said.
“Tuzo!” Korrie called. “Get back over here, you idiot, or I’ll leave you behind.”
“Nearly ready. Let me help you get your pack on.” He lifted it, and Zach turned to slot his arms through the straps. He settled the pack on his shoulders, turning back around. Heavy, but it would grow lighter as he ate the food in it over the next few days, leaving room for him to carry a child later.
Adam reached around his waist, hands brushing his ribs and sending a thrill through Zach. He looked up into Adam’s face. He could smell Adam, smell the scent of the soap they’d both used in Zach’s shower. A good scent and he enjoyed it while it lasted, because they wouldn’t smell this good for long. If only there weren’t so many people here watching him, all waiting for his signal to start, then he’d kiss Adam. Perhaps he should anyway. No. No time. Adam had been reaching for the sternum strap of the backpack to keep it from sliding around. He secured it carefully.
“Not too tight?” he asked.
Zach shook his head.
“Perfect.”
“Okay.” Adam picked up Zach’s hat and plopped it onto his head. “Say the word.”
Zach adjusted the hat, nodded at Adam, then turned to the crowd. Watching, waiting.
“If everyone is ready, I think we can get on the move.”
Chapter Eleven
Who’d have thought fleeing for your life could be this much fun?
Adam walked beside Zach at the front of the group, other people sometimes coming up to talk to them, then falling back, leaving them alone together. If he ignored the voices and the dogs barking, he could pretend he and Zach were walking alone through the foothills of Shusara.
“The ecosystem seems well-established here,” Zach said.
Adam smiled. “You mean, it’s pretty?”
Zach shot him a look and laughed. “Yes. That’s what I mean.”
“It has taken hold well here,” Adam said. “We need to introduce more genetic diversity, but—” He stopped. “But I guess that’s not going to happen.”
He looked around at the lush dark green grass scattered with daisies. Daisies grew ridiculously well here. Half the people following already wore daisy chains as necklaces or crowns. There were a few trees dotted around, still quite small.
“Deciduous trees,” he said. “Hard to make them grow as fast as evergreens, but they are prettier.” Evergreens covered the lower slopes of other mountains around the island, destined to turn into timber when the next wave of colonists came. At least, that had been the plan.
A lump formed in Adam’s throat as he thought of all this sinking into the sea. All the work put in over the forty years of the colony’s existence to create a landscape where there’d once been bare rock, all wiped out. The fresh, raw beauty of Zahara gone.
“No disrespect, Zach,” he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “But I won’t be sorry if you’re wrong.”
“Nor will I,” Zach said quietly, then sighed. “And if I am, I got myself, you, and the Franes fired for nothing. Ruined your lives.”
Adam shrugged. “I’ll get us all jobs with my family’s landscaping firm. You know how to use a shovel, right?”
“I know one sticks the sharp end in the ground, but you might have to offer me further instructions after that.”
Adam shoved him playfully, then grabbed his arm as he stumbled over a rough patch of ground.
“Sorry. You should have a hiking pole.”
Zach glanced at Adam’s. It was a meter and a half long and had a leather wrist strap.
“Don’t even think about it, bud,” Adam said. “I brought this all the way from Earth.”
“Dr. Benesh,” came a voice from behind, making them look back to see a young woman Adam recognized as a schoolteacher. “When do we stop to rest? Some of the children are getting quite tired.”
“Ah, right. Then we can stop now,” Zach said.
“How long should we stop for?” she asked. Zach looked rather helpless at that question.
“Thirty minutes is good,” Adam said. Enough time to get some water in, eat, and rest, but not so long people got too deeply asleep and were difficult to get moving again.
“Thirty minutes,” Zach said.
The teacher hurried off, and the word spread back through the group. People started to drop their packs and sit down, take out water bottles and food. Zach and Adam did the same. Adam wasn’t tired; he could walk for hours more, even after not getting much more than a nap the night before. But it felt nice to sit here in the sun with Zach, even if Zach did look worriedly back down the hill at the hundreds of people who’d stopped on
his
orders and would start again when he gave the word. He looked as if this weighed more heavily than his backpack.
After a few minutes, Dr. Howie and Korrie came over.
“You two managing okay?” Adam asked.
“I can walk as far as you, whippersnapper,” Korrie said. “Even carrying this fat lump.” Tuzo’s head still protruded from her pack. Perhaps he’d resigned himself to the undignified method of transport or wasn’t willing to run off in such unfamiliar territory.
“I’ve been checking up on people,” Howie said. “There are a few blisters here and there, but nobody has twisted an ankle or anything so far. The sun isn’t too hot, and people are getting enough water. We’re in good shape.”
“There’s a stream about five miles ahead,” Zach said. “We’ll be able to refill the water supplies there. After that, if we stick to Adam’s route, we’ll never be more than half a kilometer from a spring or stream.”
“Excellent work, lad. Come on, Ann, let’s give the boys some peace.”
They left again and sat down to rest not far off. Adam settled against his backpack, legs crossed at the ankles, hands laced together over his stomach, determined to enjoy a snooze in the sun for a few minutes. Snoozing being his second favorite activity.
“Adam,” Zach said, “I…I’m glad you’re here.”
Adam smiled without opening his eyes. “Glad to be here.”
“On a personal level, but also…” His voice dropped. “I can’t do this alone, lead all these people.”
Adam opened his eyes and smiled reassuringly at Zach, who wore a frown Adam hated to see.
“I’ll do whatever you need. Not just me. The doc and the professor, you saw they’re going to be useful.” He glanced at the crowd of people. “The Franes too. Don’t underestimate the respect they’ve garnered for sending the distress call. They’re popular. Keep them on your side.”
“Right. What about Deputy Torres? I’m worried she’s here to persuade people to turn around and go back.”
Adam looked down the slope to where Torres was talking with a family. “Nah. She doesn’t play that kind of game. She’s the sort to do the job in front of her and try the hardest she can at it. She may not believe your prediction, but that won’t make any difference. She’s here to take care of people. She’ll do that come hell or…” He stopped realizing what he’d been about to say. High water? A little too close to home. “Whatever.”
“She has a sense of duty?” Zach said.
“Yes. I’d say so. Her badge means a lot to her.”
“Great, thank you.” He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, knocking off his hat. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Lose your hat,” Adam said, picking it up from the grass. He sat up and dropped it back on Zach’s head, askew again. “And fry those brains we’re all relying on, so keep it on.”
Zach straightened it, grinning. “I will.”
“Come here,” Adam said, lying down again. Zach followed him, and Adam snaked his arm around under him and held him around the shoulders. They stayed that way for the rest of the break, enjoying the sunshine. Only the chatter of all those other voices spoiled it for Adam, who still wished they could be alone out here. One day perhaps, somewhere else, probably, they’d get the chance for a romantic stroll through a lush meadow, and then later share a tent together.
The thought of what they could do in the tent produced an immediate reaction in his body, and he had to take a deep breath and put the images out of his mind.
Later, Adam, later.
* * * *
“Mr. Genius can’t figure out a little heater, huh?”
Zach looked up at Adam and smiled sheepishly. Adam had taken the job of putting the tent up when they stopped for the day. Meanwhile, Zach had started preparing dinner, and Adam had interrupted his struggles with the camping stove.
“Save me, Adam,” Zach pleaded. “I admit defeat, and I would really like some hot food.”
“Leave it to me. You grab us some plates, butter some bread.”
Within twenty minutes, Adam had heated up two hikers’ meals of chicken stew and had a pan of water on to make coffee. They ate, barely exchanging a word. The walking and fresh air had given them an appetite it would take silent concentration to satisfy.
Adam finished first, tossed his plate aside, and lay back with a sigh. “Oh yeah.”
The sight of him stretched out in the flickering light of the fire the group had set in the middle of the campsite gave Zach the stirrings of another appetite. Could it be only this morning they’d shared Zach’s bed? It felt like a week ago. It felt like a dream.
As people finished eating dinner and sorting out their tents, many began to gather around the campfire. Mostly adults, a few teenage kids. Zach realized they kept glancing his way, and though he was tired and wanted to go to bed, he knew he should join them for a while. Adam followed his gaze and must have realized the same thing. He sat up and made the coffee. In a few minutes, they both wandered over to the fire. A group of women were singing, the harmonies clear and beautiful through the night air. They reached the end of a song and stopped.
All eyes turned to Zach. Adam stood at his side, an arm around his waist. How well could people see that? What point was Adam making? Marking territory? Showing support? It felt good.
They wanted him to speak. He’d started to recognize the look of expectancy. But what did they want him to say?
“Thank you,” Zach said. “You’ve all done so well today.” They had. Some of the younger children had cried as the day wore on and they grew tired. But their complaints were the only ones.
“What time are we starting in the morning?” someone called.
“It will get light around five,” Adam said quietly.
“We need to use as much daylight as we have to make progress,” Zach said. “Everyone should get to bed as soon as they can. We’ll get up around five thirty and try to leave by six thirty.”
“I’d suggest seven,” another voice said. Torres, standing nearby. She used the same quiet tone as Adam, so not many other people would have heard her. Was Zach expecting too much of the people? Especially when there were children to organize?
“Seven at the latest, please,” he added. He’d have them ready to leave at first light if he could but suspected that would definitely be too much to expect, especially after a night of sleeping on the ground. He hadn’t been camping often in his life, but he knew a person didn’t sleep the way they would in a big soft bed.
A big soft bed dominated his thoughts, desperate to lie down and let sleep take him and ease his aching muscles.
“Should we set a watch?” someone called out.
Zach didn’t know how to answer. He turned to Torres.
“Deputy?”
She looked around. Did she know of anyone in the group who couldn’t be trusted? Anyone who’d sneak into someone else’s tent to steal or worse?
“It would be a good idea to have someone up in case of an emergency,” she said.
“Someone should monitor the radio too,” Visha said, “in case a signal comes through from a rescue ship.”
Zach hadn’t thought of that. Good point. But everyone was so tired, it didn’t seem fair to make anyone stay up.
“We could have short watches,” Torres said. “Two hours maximum and two people—to keep each other awake. Not you,” she said as Zach opened his mouth to volunteer. “I happen to know you were up all last night, since I had to listen to you yapping. You’ll sleep tonight.”
“And you,” Zach said. He smiled at her. “Since you were up all night listening to me yapping.”
“And staying awake through it took a heroic effort for sure,” she said. “I’ll organize it. You go to bed. You’re asleep on your feet. Everyone else, time to turn in. Let’s go.”