Higher Ground

by Becky Black

  Now he would say it again.

  “Adam—”

  “Zach, I love you.”

  Adam’s panted-out words electrified Zach, beating him to the punch before he could say the same words.

  “I love you,” Zach replied. “You already know that.” He wanted to laugh, with joy and at his foolish words. He loved Adam. He loved Adam, and Adam loved him. They might yet die out here, and he’d seen hundreds of people die today. But he’d never known happiness like this. Never imagined he could feel it. He’d said he felt detached from people, but that would never be true again. He and Adam were one. Even after this sexual encounter ended, they’d never really be apart. Their words tied them together forever, however far they might be from each other.

  Adam thrust as best he could with Zach’s weight on him, moving with a kind of desperation. He pumped Zach’s cock, and Zach moaned when he came. His semen spattered Adam’s chest, pale in the starlight, paler than Adam’s well-tanned skin. Adam climaxed too, as Zach’s body tightened around him, gripping tight, as if he’d never let him go.

  The rain started again as Zach collapsed onto Adam’s chest. He kissed Adam, making him open his eyes, then rolled off him. The raindrops grew larger, and Adam cursed.

  “We’d better get back.”

  “No. This is the first shower I’ve had in days.”

  Adam stared at him, then laughed and lay back. They lay side by side under the rain and let it wash them clean.

  Only the quake a few minutes later made them move. A small one which passed quickly, but it reminded them of reality and their responsibilities. They scrabbled around for their clothes—all rather damp; they’d need some dry ones from their packs—dressed hastily, and headed back to camp.

  It wasn’t in chaos, but people were shaken up and frightened again. For the next hour, Zach and Adam helped people put up tents and get out of the rain. Zach hoped there’d be no more quakes tonight. His people needed rest. At last he and Adam retired to their tent, put on dry clothes and settled into their sleeping bag.

  “Adam,” Zach said, as Adam turned off the lantern. “I love you.”

  Adam chuckled in the darkness. “Yes, you mentioned it.”

  “I just didn’t want you to think I’d only say it during sex or an earthquake.”

  “Good, because it would be rather tricky if that was the case. We’d either have to have a lot of sex or move some place seismically unstable.” He stroked Zach’s still-damp hair. “I love you too, Zach. I don’t need an earthquake either. Though I have no objection to having lots of sex.”

  “What now?”

  “Like we said. See what happens once we get out of this.”

  “Okay.”

  It was the only answer he could expect in the circumstances. They couldn’t decide where they went next with this. Right now they had only one destination—the top of this mountain. Tomorrow they’d climb again. Every step would bring them closer to deciding what they did do next.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Adam walked up to Zach, who was looking down into the flooded basin with binoculars. He didn’t know why Zach had to look down at that. What did he hope to see?

  “Zach, there’s a problem.”

  “Hang on.” Zach didn’t lower the binoculars.

  “There’s nothing to see,” Adam said quietly. Did he hope someone had got themselves into a boat? There were—or had been—a few boats down there, little ones for messing around in the rivers. Nothing that could have survived the flood.

  “I’m watching Barbara’s group.”

  Okay, that was more constructive. Adam nodded. “How are they doing?”

  “They’re still moving. About a day and a half behind us, I think. I hope they’re okay.”

  “We were right not to wait. Don’t feel bad about it.”

  Zach lowered the binoculars and smiled weakly at Adam, then frowned. “A problem? You said there’s a problem.”

  “Yeah, we’re lost.”

  “What? How can we be lost? We’re following the stream.”

  “We were. I don’t know if the quakes have diverted that, or we’re in the wrong place, but there’s no stream.”

  “Damn. How much water do we have left?”

  “Hard to say. A day and half maybe. More if it rains again.” He took Zach’s arm and steered him back to where the group’s little leadership team stood around looking tense. They stood away from the rest of the crowd, not wanting anyone overhearing them. Only Amina, oblivious, sitting on a backpack at her father’s feet, smiled as Adam and Zach approached.

  “So, what do we do?” Visha asked.

  “Find the stream,” Adam said. “I know this area, and I think I’ve got a good idea of where it is. I’ll go find it and contact you all to follow me when I do.”

  “What?” Zach stared at him. “You—you want to leave, go off on your own?”

  “You can’t go on your own,” Howie said. “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Right.” Zach nodded in vigorous agreement. “I’ll go with you.”

  “You can’t go at all,” Howie said.

  “He’s right,” Korrie agreed. “Not now, not after what happened. Not now that we don’t have Barbara either.”

  “You’re the leader,” Adam said, taking Zach’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You have to stay with the group.” Zach groaned, his face a picture of torn feelings that made Adam want to hug him and tell him it would be okay, he’d never leave Zach’s side again.

  But he couldn’t indulge in such things. The group needed him to do a job.

  “Then it has to be me,” Simon said. Visha looked at him with the same agony Adam had just seen on Zach’s face.

  “There’s plenty of people in the group who could come with me,” Adam protested, not wanting to split up the family.

  “No, we’ll move faster with just the two of us. And if we start explaining and choosing volunteers, we’ll still be arguing about it by sunset. Better if you and I just go now.”

  Adam couldn’t argue with the logic. “You’re right. So that’s agreed. Let’s go.”

  “Agreed?” Zach protested. “Who says? We never—”

  “Best lighten our packs. Simon, leave your tent but bring your bedroll.”

  “Do you think we’ll be away overnight?”

  “Look, just slow down,” Zach said, a pleading tone in his voice. Adam turned to him and spoke quietly.

  “Zach, we have to do this, and there’s no sense in waiting around. I don’t want to leave you any more than you want me to go, but this is for the group.”

  “But, Adam.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What the hell will I do without you?”

  “You’ll be amazing, that’s what you’ll do. And Ann and the doc and Visha, they’re all here too, all helping you.” He leaned in to kiss Zach quickly. “Butch up, Benesh. You’ll be fine.”

  He turned back to the group and found with some alarm that they were going through his and Simon’s packs, lightening them as much as possible, making sure they weren’t both carrying anything they only needed one of. He quickly stepped up and almost grabbed his pack from Korrie when she started opening pockets.

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Your walkie-talkie still holding up?” Simon asked as Adam knelt by him on the ground and started rummaging in the pack. “Battery not flat?”

  “It’s fine. Will we still be able to contact the group?”

  “Range can be several kilometers as long as we have line of sight. Since we’re going higher, we generally should. And I’m taking one of the radio beacons, so Visha will be able to track us down if we get lost.”

  Adam sighed with some relief. “Okay, that’s good.” He could feel Zach’s gaze boring into his back. But he couldn’t weaken. This had to be done. When they had the packs sorted out, he stood.

  “We’ll check in hourly so you know we’re okay.” He smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile at Zach. “We’re not going to be very far away
, you know. Maybe only a few hundred meters.” But it would feel like light-years if Zach’s stricken face was anything to go by.

  Adam and Simon helped each other on with their packs. Visha approached her husband, carrying Amina, so Adam strolled away to give them the privacy to say good-bye. Korrie and Howie were busying themselves putting the things discarded from Adam’s and Simon’s packs into others.

  “Zach,” Adam said. “See you later. I’ll be—”

  Before he could finish, Zach pulled Adam to him for a fierce kiss, pressed so close Adam worried about what people would think. He gasped when they parted. “My God, I can’t imagine how hard you’d kiss me if I ever went away to war.”

  “Don’t even joke about that. Please, just be careful.”

  “Hey, I’ve got Simon with me. He’ll keep us out of trouble. He’s steady as a rock.” Perhaps not a good analogy, given how unsteady the rocks around here had become.

  “Then good luck. And don’t forget your check-ins.”

  “You know I can’t go for an hour without hearing you worrying at me.” He reached up and touched the side of Zach’s face, feeling the rasp of stubble under his palm. “Take care of yourself, rock-botherer. See you soon.” His final kiss was gentle, lingering, yet over too quickly. Time to go. He clipped his walkie-talkie to the strap of his backpack and nodded to Simon, who fell into step with him. Neither of them dared to look back as they walked out of camp.

  * * * *

  Zach trudged at the head of the group, climbing. Lost they may be, but up was the only destination, so it made no sense to sit waiting for Adam and Simon to return.

  “Can I walk with you?” Visha stepped up. She gave Zach a brave smile, but her eyes were red from crying. She carried Amina, fast asleep against her shoulder.

  “Of course.” It would be good for him to have someone to talk to, perhaps lift his gloom. Though Visha looked as gloomy as him. Okay, then, misery loves company. “Can I carry Amina for you for a while?”

  “Oh, thank you. She is getting a bit heavy for me.”

  Zach glanced at Visha’s backpack as she handed the sleeping child over. It was too full for Amina to ride in like a papoose, since it had some of Simon’s things in there, just as Zach’s backpack had some of Adam’s belongings. He settled Amina against his chest and shoulder. She stirred a bit, murmured, but silenced again.

  “She’s getting so big,” Visha said as they carried on walking. She sighed. “Seems like only yesterday she was my baby.”

  “Time goes so fast,” Zach agreed. “Life, I mean. It passes so quickly.”

  But not so quickly that a person couldn’t build a life, a family, a future. Not mayflies. We’re not. We’ve got the time to build careers. To have children. To explore all the possibilities of a life together.

  “Adam will take good care of Simon,” he said, earning a smile from Visha.

  “And vice versa. Our men, eh? Playing the hero.”

  “Not playing it. They are heroes.”

  “So are you, Zach. We’d all be dead back there if you hadn’t saved us.”

  Zach didn’t answer. He could only think again about the people he hadn’t saved.

  “And one day, when Ami’s old enough, I’ll make sure she understands what you did for her and for all of us.”

  They weren’t safe yet. They could climb, but Zach couldn’t magic up rescue. Their climb might do no more than delay the inevitable.

  But as Amina sighed sleepily close to his ear, he summoned up his resolve. She would be safe. He’d make certain of it.

  * * * *

  “Here!” Adam looked back over his shoulder as Simon scrambled over rocks to catch up to him. “Here’s our stream. Or rather, here was our stream.”

  “You’re sure?” Simon asked, frowning down at what Adam was pointing at.

  “I’m sure.” The channel in the nearly bare rock was empty and dry, but Adam recognized the signs that water had rushed down it not long ago. Particular lichens on the rock. Accumulations of pebbles behind larger rocks. “Question is, where’s the water?”

  “Could falling rock have dammed it upstream?” They both looked up the slope, trying to follow the dry channel in a maze of rock.

  “Could be. Only one way to find out. Come on.”

  They climbed again on the bank of the dry stream channel and sometimes in it, when the rocks on either side were too difficult to easily scramble over. Simon did most of the check-ins. Adam wanted to hear Zach’s voice, but he thought Amina needed to hear her father’s voice more than Adam needed to hear his lover’s. He could have used the walkie-talkie he carried to talk to Zach, but sense won out; he knew he should save the battery.

  “You hear that?” Simon said after a couple of hours climbing. “Is it the stream?”

  “Sounds like it. Stop for a minute.” They stopped walking and stood in silence, and coming from somewhere ahead, they heard it. Water. Water running and crashing over stone. Simon pointed, and Adam nodded in agreement.

  They climbed, barely speaking, only the rustle of their clothing and packs and the sound of their boots on rock breaking the silence, as they followed the sound of the water.

  Adam took the lead, the more experienced climber, so he spotted it first. He stopped to let Simon catch up.

  “There’s our stream.”

  It had become a waterfall. The ground had cracked open right across the channel, splitting it in two like scissors through a ribbon. The water fell down into a deep ravine. Adam leaned over enough to look down into it. A pool had formed down there. Would it fill all the way to the top, or was the water escaping somewhere?

  “Okay, so the stream above this crack is fine,” Simon said. “So we get across and go on following it.”

  “I think it narrows in that direction,” Adam said, pointing to the left. “Let’s go see if we can get around it and back to the waterfall on the other side.”

  “Should I radio in?”

  “Nah. Let’s surprise them on your next check-in.”

  “Best to save the battery anyway. Lead on, then. And stay away from the edge.”

  Adam didn’t need telling. They walked for almost an hour beside the crack in the ground. It narrowed to the point they might be able to jump it. But the rest of the group wouldn’t be able to manage that, so they had to get to the end of it and lead the group there, then on to the water.

  “It’s getting dark,” Simon said as they at last reached the end of the crack in the ground. At least a kilometer and a half back toward the waterfall on the other side. “I don’t think we should—” He broke off with a gasp at the familiar rumble. The ground shook. Loose rock clattered down the slope and into the crack in the ground.

  “Get away from the edge!” Adam grabbed him and pulled him away from the ravine. They ran, stumbling. Adam lost his footing and fell to one knee, but Simon dragged him up and they ran a few more steps before the shaking grew violent enough to make them drop to the ground, grabbing on to rocks.

  If Zach was here, he and Adam would be clinging together, but all Adam could do was grab for his walkie-talkie and open a channel. Simon clearly had the same instinct, and he had his out and was calling his wife’s name already. The radios connected at the same time, and in stereo they heard the sound of children crying and dogs howling. Adam shuddered, but Simon called out, apparently able to pick out Amina’s voice in all the others.

  “Ami, baby, Daddy’s here. Don’t cry, sweetheart. Don’t be frightened.”

  “Adam?” Zach’s voice, pained, scared. The shaking began to ease.

  “I’m here,” Adam gasped out, his throat closed, choked. “I’m okay. Are you okay?”

  “It’s stopping.” The rumbling noise died away. The ground stilled. In the background over the radio, the crying of children went on. Adam tried not to listen in on Simon comforting his daughter, tried not to hear the trembling in his voice.

  “Zach. Are you okay there? Any injuries?”

  “No…I don’t think s
o. Adam, you should come back. I can’t stand this. You can’t stay out there for the night.”

  “It’s nearly dark.” He glanced across at Simon, who must have heard Zach’s suggestion and looked as if he very much wanted to agree with it so he could go be with his wife and child. “It’s too dangerous,” Adam said to both of them. “We found the stream.” He took a breath, tried to get his mind back on the job. “We’ll bivouac here. You can join us in the morning, and we’ll lead you to the stream.”

  ”But…Amina’s very upset. She needs—”

  “Don’t,” Adam snapped, seeing the anguish on Simon’s face. “We’re all very upset. But this is the only smart thing to do. We’re fine. And we’re not so far away. I can see your lights.”

  “I just wish…” His voice dropped. “I wish you were here with me, that’s all.”

  “I know. I feel the same. I’d better sign off,” Adam said. “You go get everyone calmed down there. Set up camp before it’s too dark.”

  They signed off reluctantly. With barely a word exchanged, Adam and Simon set about making camp.

  “I’ll make the dinner,” Simon said when they had a fire going. “You go set the rest up.”

  There was little else to set up, but Simon clearly wanted to be alone, so Adam left him to it. He unrolled their sleeping bags on either side of the fire and sat down on a rock that had a view of the distant lights of Zach’s group.

  Beyond that lay the yawning blackness of the flooded basin. No lights. He’d climbed this mountain before and sat at night looking at the lights of the town. Now it was all washed away. So hard to picture it. Everything gone. The town, the Institute, the farms. The farms people had invested so much of their lives in. Eva hadn’t joined them on the climb. Few of the farmers had. He’d looked for her and others as the crowd gathered that first morning of their journey, scanning the crowd in vain. She was gone. All of them were gone. It took him in the gut like a medicine ball, and he dropped to sit down. Shock and denial gave way to reality at last.

  Simon came over a few minutes later, carrying a lantern, and sat down beside him. He handed a bowl of soup and some crackers to Adam, making no comment as Adam scrubbed a hand across his eyes to dry them before he took the bowl.