Higher Ground by Becky Black (most read books of all time .txt) 📕

“I know.” The danger, the craziness of the situation, the forced closeness. Yes, he understood it all, and none of it gave him an excuse for behaving like a dick. He found his flashlight at his side and stood, turning it on. Glyn did the same.

In the distance, farther away than he’d realized he’d walked, Adam saw the lights of the camp. He led the way, Glyn following, not saying anything, until they reached the edge of the camp, where he caught up and walked at Adam’s side. Adam wished they’d come back separately, because Zach was still sitting outside the tent and saw the two of them arrive back together. That couldn’t help. Zach didn’t say anything, turned, and crawled into the tent. Damn.

“Good night, Glyn,” Adam said, turning to see Glyn had gone, his ass already disappearing inside the tiny one-man tent he slept in alone.

“All righty, then.” Maybe Adam should go see Simon, make some insulting remarks about his wife, or suggest Amina didn’t resemble him much; funny, eh? If he worked at it, he could get everyone in camp hating his guts by the morning.

* * * *

In the tent, Zach prepared for bed. He’d come in with his boots on and was busy unlacing them when Adam came into the tent.

“Hey,” Adam said in a sheepish tone Zach didn’t much care for. Feeling guilty?

“Hello.” Zach got both his boots off and tossed them into the rear of the tent. Adam sat and started to get undressed too, before he stopped suddenly, looking down at the sleeping bags. They were not zipped together. Zach had come in while Adam was off somewhere in the dark with Glyn and separated them. It had been a stupid thing to do, he supposed, an act of ridiculous jealousy. But he’d been full of deep, fundamental rage. A caveman again. He would not lie with Adam and smell the sweat of another man on him. The mere thought made his gorge rise. He’d calmed down somewhat, and the scowl on Glyn’s face when the two of them came back had given him some reassurance. But it was too late to remedy the sleeping arrangements, at least not without looking like a fool or admitting why he’d separated the bags—which meant having a conversation which frightened him more than the earthquakes.

“Okay,” Adam said, resuming undressing, keeping his back turned. In such a small space, they couldn’t avoid accidentally brushing against each other sometimes, and each time they did, both pulled away as if they’d been burned.

After a century of silence—which Zach’s lying watch claimed was only five minutes—they got into their separate sleeping bags.

“Ready for the light off?” Adam asked.

“Yes.”

Adam clicked off the electric lantern, and a cold darkness fell in the tent. Outside, they could hear the sounds of voices, the two people on watch, talking quietly to each other. The noise of the wind.

“Adam,” Zach said after another couple of centuries of horrible silence. “Are you still awake?”

A soft snorting sound came from the darkness. “What do you think?”

They should talk this out. He should ask what happened with Glyn. He had the right to ask, didn’t he? Perhaps not anymore. And they hadn’t even discussed anything about rules regarding other men. He had to be reasonable.

“When this is all over, I don’t expect anything from you.”

No answer came from Adam. He lay so still and silent he might as well have been asleep.

“I know we’ve said…some things, maybe got carried away. But I wanted to say I don’t hold you to anything you’ve said. The situation is so extreme it wouldn’t be fair for us to be beholden to anything we’ve said.”

No answer.

“I think it’s more sensible if we concentrate on surviving the next few days. Does that sound okay to you?”

“That does sound sensible, yes.” Not Adam’s usual voice—the one so often halfway to laughter. This was a cold and flat voice.

Zach wanted to scream. He wanted to grab Adam and kiss him stupid and demand he never touch any other man again. Beg him to promise he’d belong to Zach forever. But those were the thoughts of the caveman, not the scientist.

“Good,” Zach said. “Thank you for being so understanding about it.” I’ll love you forever and pine away and die if you leave my side. “We’d better get some sleep.”

Adam didn’t answer. Zach heard him turn over and in the darkness could just make out the shape of him. The shape of his back.

Chapter Twenty-Four

They saw the rescue ship the next day. But not coming for them. The group could only watch as the ship descended farther down the slope, picking up people from Torres’s group. They should be celebrating. Yet they stood watching quietly, and Adam knew many people must be wishing the ship was coming for them first. As if they deserved it more because they’d kept faith with Zach and gone on climbing.

“Come on,” Zach said after they watched for a few minutes. “We have to keep moving.”

Nobody came right out and objected, but there were a few sighs and pained looks. If Zach had suggested they camp here and didn’t move again until rescue came, nobody would have argued—except Adam.

It had been raining steadily since breakfast time, and Adam felt like he’d never be dry again. Water got in under his collar and trickled down his spine in an infuriating way. It must be dripping from something on his pack, but he’d have to wait until their next break to fix it. Meanwhile, he’d go quietly mad.

Zach led the way, using his borrowed hiking pole to help him up the increasingly steep slope. Sometimes they climbed parts so steep they had to use their hands too. Everyone hated that, especially Jan, who had to be helped over those stretches. Minor quakes had rattled them three times already today.

Adam walked well behind Zach, in among the group. It wasn’t unusual for him to