But those had felt like empty words.
With a shuddering sigh, she had jabbed her fork in the pan again.
~*~
Even now, a shiver went down Charlotte’s arm, but she took a deep breath. The scent of this sauce was fresher and more orangey. Slipping back into the present, she got a swig of water before resuming her meal.
How was Timothy doing? He could take care of himself, and the village was a lot safer now, but that didn’t mean accidents never happened. Worrying wouldn’t help, though. If he finally trusted her enough to let her go out, she could trust him enough to let him stay.
“Charlotte?”
Swallowing, she looked up at Arthur. His eyes betrayed concern, but something a bit lower on his face made her almost spit out her food giggling.
“Wh-what?”
Coughing, she took a drink. “You got a little something…” she scratched at her left cheek.
He reddened just enough for the smear of sauce to blend in. “Oh—ugh.” Roughly, he wiped off the mess with his hand before seeing the napkin at his place and pausing.
She tried not to laugh too hard as she took another bite.
~*~
“Would you be interested in breakfast?” Dalton started.
Arthur spit a mouthful of diluted toothpaste down the clean sink. “Of course. Would you be interested in providing it?”
“Arthur!” Charlotte exclaimed, brush still in her hair as she slapped a hand to one hip. “He already got us a good supper. You could at least thank him before mooching more food.”
Arthur hollered a reply, but the toothbrush across his tongue made the words impossible to discern. Removing it, he repeated, “I did thank him! Last night, while we were staying up jabbering each other’s ears off.”
“Oh, is that what you were talking about all night?” She chuckled and resumed brushing. “I have nothing against breakfast—” she suppressed a yawn “—but only if it’s no trouble.”
Dalton nodded. “No, it’s no problem.”
“And—” she tittered “—no guinea pigs, please?”
“Of course.”
“Especially not Alby,” Arthur threw in.
Such a look of horror crossed Dalton’s face that Arthur could have suggested cannibalism. “I would never kill Alby!” Huffing, he crossed his arms.
Giggling harder, she fluffed up her bangs one last time and tossed her brush in her duffel. “Your favorite guinea pig?”
Dalton let his arms drop, rolling his neck. “Alby was my pet before we started farming them, so yes. I’m glad he survived with us. My cat, Pascal, wasn’t so lucky.” With a sigh, he scraped a spot off the faucet.
“I’m sorry.” She frowned.
“No, it’s all right. I get to play with a lot of guinea pigs now. It isn’t a proper replacement when I can’t consider most of them pets. But it is at least some non-sister companionship.”
Charlotte laughed. “Always good to have some other than family.” She glanced at Arthur. “I guess you must count as my companion.”
“So I’m your pet guinea pig.” Arthur put away his toothbrush.
She grinned. “And you can even do tricks.”
“Like blushing at your command,” he mumbled.
“But of course.”
“If you lovebirds don’t mind,” Dalton started, “we can grab your breakfast now. It’s more of a come-and-go system than dinner; nothing as fancy.”
“Works for me.” Charlotte straightened her ammo bag. “Arthur?”
Arthur interrupted himself in the middle of repeating “lovebirds” to say, “Yes, let’s.”
With a laugh, Dalton led them outside the dormitory. The sun had risen, but the grass shimmered with specks of water, and the morning was still cool. If it would stay like this all day, Charlotte could make excellent travel time. Now that she thought about it, it would have been a good idea to build a dew trap last evening. She knew she was safe enough to stay in the same place all night, after all. There were still other ways to get water, though, and they would end up crossing the lake again on the way out. Dalton would probably give them drinks with breakfast, anyway. Not an urgent issue.
The three entered the cafeteria. Now the only light was shining in through the windows, and the tablecloths were absent. The center line of tables was still as intact as it was the night before, although the chairs weren’t stationed in as orderly a fashion. Rosalind was nowhere to be seen, but, judging by the lack of change in Dalton’s demeanor, this wasn’t unusual.
Dalton led Charlotte and Arthur into the kitchen, where a few naked bags of cereal were stationed across a counter.
“Take any kind you want.” Dalton retrieved a few salad bowls from overhead cabinets. “You’re only getting one bowl, though.”
“You stingy host, you.” Charlotte opened what appeared to be chocolate-flavored cereal and poured some into her bowl.
“Thanks for this, though.” She clipped the bag closed. “It’ll be nice to have a sugar rush for the first hour of walking.”
Arthur clipped up his bag of cereal before doing a double-take. “Wait, we’re leaving today?”
She looked over her shoulder at him as Dalton divvied up some water from a pot on the stove. “We have to go sometime. I love the free meals, but I can’t overstay my welcome—and, of course, Blake is waiting for me.”
“Ah—” Arthur scratched the back of his head, watching his roommate “—of course.”
Taking her cup of water with a thanks, she turned back to Arthur. “I mean, you can stay if you want to. If I ran into a best friend I hadn’t seen in years, I’d want to hang out with him a while longer, too.” She smiled. “I wouldn’t be offended or anything.”
“Uh, no, I…” Arthur looked between the two of them and swallowed. “I’ll leave with you. Um…” He looked back to Dalton.
An amused light in his eyes, Dalton led them into the dining area. He set his breakfast down on one end of the table without taking a seat.
“Hang on, and I’ll get hold of Frankie.” He paused, glancing at the travelers. “You are fine with me coming along, right?”
13
“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Charlotte clapped her hands together. “The more, the merrier, right?”
“Yeah.” Arthur gave his roommate a nod of approval. Maybe it would no longer be a private quest with Charlotte, but that was better than choosing between her and Dalton. She had yet to show any particular interest in Arthur, anyway. That didn’t surprise him, but her dismissing his presence so easily still felt like a shaft splitting his heart.
Although she did seem fine with keeping him along. That was something. And Dalton was gladly giving up some part of his safe life here for his sake, so there was no reason to be depressed.
He watched Dalton walk away before turning to observe Charlotte. She had already started on her breakfast, but that didn’t keep her from noticing his gaze.
“It’s been so long since I’ve had anything chocolate.” She swallowed a dry mouthful and washed it down. “This is just artificial flavoring, but still.” She fingered a lock of hair. “I wonder if I’ll run across any real chocolate that’s still good. There has to be some somewhere, wouldn’t you think?”
“Surely.” He twirled his spoon around in his bowl. “Most everything is past its sell-by date now, though. We may have to steer our next journey farther south and fiddle with the cacao beans ourselves.”
She smiled. “That would be fun.”
She returned to her meal without making any remark on the idea of another journey together. No news was good news, right?
The two returned to their meals and got halfway finished before Dalton returned.
“So, what’s our verdict?” Arthur started as he sat down.
Taking a sip of water, Dalton rested his arms on the table. “Rosalind will let me get away with about two weeks’ rations, so I won’t have to steal your food. I’ll also bring some other supplies, but not too much for me to car
ry myself.”
Scratching the back of her head, Charlotte had him repeat himself before she nodded. “Sounds great.” She scooped up a spoonful of her cereal and looked at it. “Any chance you can bring some of this for your breakfast rations?”
As Dalton was busy with a mouthful, she continued, “I’d trade you for it, of course. I still have a few energy bars that are pretty good.” She burst out laughing. “And what kind of lunch did your mom pack you, Arthur?”
He blinked, lifting his head from his hands. “Peanut butter and jam, as always.”
Charlotte giggled. “You mean ‘jelly,’ you crazy Brit?”
“No, I most certainly don’t.” He sniffed. “It would be absurd to put jelly on a sandwich.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, grinning. “So, Dalton, the cereal?”
Dalton, mid-bite, took a minute to catch up to the conversation. “Yeah, I can do that. So, it’ll take me a little time to get packed but—” he raised his eyebrows and winked “—I promise I’m worth it.”
“I’m sure you are. Take half the day, and you still won’t have gotten me stuck any longer than he did.” Her eyebrows stretching too high to take seriously, she shot a accusative glance at Arthur, who managed a laugh.
“Or I could always help you with it,” she added, nibbling on the end of her spoon.
“Sounds like a date.” On the edge of snickering, Dalton looked over at Arthur.
Upon finishing his last bit of cereal, the latter threw his spoon at his roommate’s forehead. “Don’t try anything, you.”
Laughing, Dalton caught the spoon before it could hit his hair. “Wow. With an aim like that, how do you manage to shoot down anything?”
“The zombies and deer don’t usually catch.” Clearing his throat, Arthur turned back to Charlotte. “I might as well lend a hand, unless you’d rather me get a head start on securing some lunch.”
She shrugged. “Whichever you’d prefer. Either would save time.”
“All right.” He stood, pushing his chair in and leaning with his palms on the table. “I think I’ll go ahead and hunt. Should we meet in front of the dormitory?”
“Works for me.” She finished off her cereal. “Good luck, and don’t get bitten.”
“Same to you.” Arthur stood up, thumbed his bow sling for a moment in case she wanted to say anything else, and then walked to the door.
Dalton gulped the rest of his breakfast and was still chewing when he got to his feet. After draining his cup of water, he targeted the latest arrival to the cafeteria.
“Rosalind, would you take care of our dishes?”
Blinking, Rosalind paused a step away from the kitchen. “Sure.”
“Thanks.” Dalton took a step away from the table and glanced at Charlotte. She left her empty bowl, noting that Arthur hadn’t been too worried about his.
“Let’s go,” she said, loading her baggage up and following Dalton to the door.
The air outside hadn’t heated up much despite the mid-morning sun. Lost time or not, Charlotte was sure it would be a fine walking day. Her newest companion was a quick enough walker so far. He’d be slower after weighing himself down with supplies, but maybe then she could at least keep up with him.
She stepped into the dormitory after him and went up the stairs. He opened the door to his room, and she strode in.
“Here,” he started, opening a drawer. “Can you roll up an outfit or two while I grab some bags from another room?”
“No problem.” She picked up a folded white shirt as he expressed his thanks and stepped outside.
She had rolled up two sets of shirts and shorts and was looking for socks when he returned. He registered what was still missing from the wardrobe and hurried up to the bed.
“Put those in here.” He opened up the bag and set it on the bed. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
She nodded, cramming the shirts against one side of the bag as he knelt at a lower drawer. Sliding it open, he plucked out a few articles, rolled them behind his back, and nudged the drawer closed with his foot.
“My apologies for asking a stranger of the opposite sex to fold my underwear.” He glanced at Charlotte, who grinned but turned back to the bag.
“It’s not like I’ve never done laundry for my brothers before. You’re the only one here that’s embarrassed.” She glanced at him. “It doesn’t seem like that happens easily for you. Especially compared to Arthur.”
Dalton paused as she put in the shorts. “That’s a weird thought.”
“How so?” Finished, she stepped back from the bag.
He slipped his spare underwear under what she had already packed and scrunched his mouth to the side. “I guess he’s always been easily embarrassed, but usually he’ll punch or snap at people. The whole stammer-blush thing is not how he rolls, especially around girls. He must really like you.” Throwing in a few socks, he moved on to where his toiletries sat in the closet.
Smiling, she held a plastic freezer bag open for him. “There’s no denying he has a crush on me. I feel like we’ll still get along well once he recovers from that, though.”
“Are you sure it’s just a crush?” Meeting her gaze for a second, he ensured his toothbrush was clean before he put it in the bag.
She leaned her hip against the bed frame. “He was like this from the moment I met him, so it can’t be much else.” She shrugged. “I think he’s getting more comfortable around me, though, so that’s good.”
Dalton nodded, throwing in some nail clippers before asking her to seal the bag. “It has been some time since we lived in the same room, so he might have changed. Still, it’s weird to see him like this.” He took up the bag and started for the next room on his list.
“Huh.” Charlotte tried to imagine an Arthur that snarled instead of stammered. He had certainly displayed a less-than-friendly reaction to Manfred beating her to the ground, but that was a far cry from batting her eyelashes at him. He did a fair bit of squabbling with Dalton, but it was all in a sort of brotherly way. If the new Arthur seemed odd to Dalton, the old Arthur was just as strange a concept to her.
She wasn’t flabbergasted when Dalton claimed the medical supplies would go in next. It was more of a surprise when he left the dormitory and kept walking.
“We only keep some of the emergency medicine near our rooms.” He adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag. “We stockpile most of the equipment in an old classroom.”
“Lots of stuff, huh?”
He nodded. “I’ll raid our stock pretty well, since I’m more likely to use this stuff out running around than staying here. Hopefully we won’t need everything, but it’s best to be prepared.”
“Amen to that.” She eyed an infected on the horizon, but it didn’t seem to perceive them. “I have a good amount of bandages yet, so don’t worry about having to pack any of those. I can share.”
“Thanks. You can also, of course, share my supplies if you need them.” He led the way inside a building and down a hallway chilly enough to give her goosebumps. A turn of a key later, they were inside the medical stockroom. At least, the room had some odd smells to it, and Dalton came to a stop. Only when his flashlight turned on did some of the thick shadows recede. Black-topped desks stood in intervals, sinks with odd nozzles covered in clear plastic on most of them. Shelves bowed under multitudes of boxes and bottles. Everything from IV stands to blood pressure cuffs covered the counters and corners.
She almost laughed. Didn’t everyone have high blood pressure these days?
“Try not to stumble on anything,” he said, setting his bag on the ground. “Follow me and hold that open, if you will.”
“No problem.”
As she followed him around the room, she found her mind wandering back to Arthur. Was he really in love with her? It must have begun with a crush, since he’d started off not knowing her at all. Since then… Some time had passed, but she’d had crushes for longer than a month. She hadn’t risked her life to break her crush out of the grip
of people like Manfred, but she hadn’t exactly had the chance those days. Besides, she was sure she’d do things that dangerous for Arthur, and she wasn’t in love with him. Right?
Right. He was just a good traveling companion. No—a friend, by this point. At any rate, she probably owed it to him to stop flirting so much. It may have been a bit mean if he only had a crush, but the amusement overweighed his embarrassment. If he was honestly in love with her, then she was just jerking on his strings… well, like a jerk.
Yeah, she’d have to stop that. It may have been her main source of entertainment, but he was some fun aside from being flustered. He was a good friend, and he deserved more respect.
“Charlotte?”
For a minute, the voice confused her. Then she realized she was currently with Dalton.
“Yes?”
“Want to go see if Rosalind has my food rations ready?”
She watched the glow of his flashlight draw closer to the door. “Sounds like a plan.”
~*~
They finished packing and said goodbye to Rosalind and the guinea pigs. By that time, Arthur was sitting on the stairs at the front of the dormitory. He got to his feet as the others approached.
“Find anything?” Charlotte called, leaning forward.
“Yes, I got lucky.” Standing, he lifted his catch by the already-skinned leg. “I found this fellow rummaging through some rubbish before I even got out of the main city. Raccoon isn’t exactly gourmet, but he’s big enough to feed the three of us, if Dalton’s all right with eating some.”
Dalton heaved a huge sigh. “Fine, if I must. You have to cook it, though.”
“I apologize in advance if I burn your portion.” Arthur slung the skin around the meat and descended the stairs. Dalton stepped out of the way, letting Arthur get closer to Charlotte.
Watching him come forward, she clasped her right wrist and stretched her arms upward. “I’m sure it’ll cook up nicely. Ready to head out?”
He nodded, and she checked the sun before leading the way. Dalton cast a glance back as the last orange roofs passed by, but he made no comment.
Squinting at his roommate shambling after him, Arthur frowned. “Did you need any help with those?”
Along the Winding Road Page 10