The Gritty One (The Pearl in the Darkness Book 2) by Santana Saunders

Author:Santana Saunders [Saunders, Santana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hummingbird & Tree, LLC
Published: 2021-11-16T05:00:00+00:00

I feel as giddy as a squirrel on a trampoline. We don’t say much on the way there as not to draw attention to ourselves. The town is still quiet, so I hear every leaf crunching under our boots, every bird chirp, and every breath escaping his mouth and mine. The air is so cold that each exhale releases a misty cloud around us.

We stop one cabin away from Kenzo’s and Amos points toward the forest lining the town behind it. He places his hand on the small of my back, leading me in that direction. It’s odd, letting someone else take the reins for a change. At first, I want to reject the gesture, but then I like it. The tension in my shoulders melts away. I don’t know if I’m more surprised that I like it or that I trust him enough to make these sorts of decisions. Either way, it’s nice. He’s probably the only man left on Earth with enough confidence to attempt leading me anywhere. Well, excluding Saccone. A wave of nausea courses through my abdomen.

We walk along the tiny paths that people have made while foraging until we find a fallen tree in a clearing just far enough away and within eyeshot of his cabin. My boot catches on something solid, sending me to the ground.

“Are you okay?” Amos leans over to help me up.

I look down to find black metal camouflaged by the mossy ground. Brushing the greenery aside, it’s clear the metal sticks out of the earth a good inch or two and there is another identical piece of metal maybe a few feet away. Amos gets down on his knees and wipes away the moss and dirt to reveal wooden boards connecting the metal pieces.

“It’s an old train track.” I laugh.

“I haven’t seen one of these since I was a boy. It explains the clearing here.” He points through the woods, where the sky peeks through the thick plants.

I stand up and walk toward a fallen tree. “Too bad we don’t have an operating steam engine.”

He laughs, pulling a small fleece throw from his backpack, laying it across the bark and patting it with his hand for me to take a seat. I feel the corners of my mouth involuntarily curling up into a grin. He takes a seat next to me and pulls out two cups and a thermos. As he turns the top off, the rich, nutty scent of coffee fills the cool, hazy air around us—a blank canvas for any aroma, taking the scent to a higher level. Is this a date? A post-apocalyptic, picnic day date? I don’t dare ask him because I highly doubt he planned it to be so, and it’s a ridiculous thought considering the circumstances.

The haze weaves through the emerald and sage hues of the thicket covering the forest floor. It’s so quiet. He’s so quiet. I can’t imagine his mind is filled with the garrulous ramblings of a crazy person like mine. I’m sure his head is in the game.

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