Higher Ground (16 page)

“I thought, maybe I should sit up with someone else.”

“What?” Adam stared. All day he’d been looking forward to snuggling under the stars with Zach, knowing Zach would volunteer for a watch tonight. Now Zach was standing there saying he didn’t want to?

“I just thought sitting with you I might be rather distracted.” He smiled weakly.

Adam chuckled and went on with setting up the tent. “Zach, we’re not on watch for a raid by enemy soldiers. It’s just in case there’s an emergency or something. A little distraction won’t hurt.”

“Okay. You’re right. I’m overthinking it.”

“I’ve noticed that about you.”

Zach sighed. “Always been a problem. You don’t mind staying up?”

“No. I slept like a dead man last night. Not quite as tired tonight.” A cup of coffee and teasing Zach would keep him awake. He couldn’t wait. “Let’s get some dinner.”

Nobody argued with them about taking first watch, and after dinner, the rest of the group began to settle for the night, leaving Zach and Adam sitting by the fire. Adam poured coffee and handed a mug to Zach.

“Thanks,” Zach said. He wore a worried expression, and Adam moved closer and spoke to him quietly.

“You okay?”

“Did you notice something at dinner tonight?”

“Mine could have used more salt.”

Zach gave him an impatient look. “Adam, please, I’m serious. I meant, there was no singing, like last night.”

Adam hadn’t noticed it at the time, but Zach was right. He shrugged. “People are more tired. We had a full day walking, not only a half.”

“Yes. They seemed more tired. And more tense.”

“I heard some grumbling. It’s to be expected.”

Zach scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it more unruly than ever. Adam reached over and smoothed it down, earning a smile from Zach.

“Do you think it’s only about being tired?” Zach asked.

“What else?”

“Nothing’s happened so far. No sign of trouble. What if people are starting to think I’m wrong?”

“You think they need…what, an earthquake to convince them?”

“Maybe. It’s hard for people to take things on faith, and that’s what I’ve had to ask them to do. To trust my judgment.”

“Ann backs you, remember. They’re trusting her too.”

“It’s not her they’re going to with every question.”

Adam nodded. “Yes, seen that. Making you nervous?”

“I didn’t realize they’d expect me to lead them this way. There are better qualified people right here with us.” His voice rose, then quieted. The lights were going off in the tents around the site. Voices silencing. A child’s voice sounded aloud here and there, but adults probably spoke more quietly, aware of the proximity of so many others.

“It’s not about who’s qualified,” Adam said. “You’re the prophet of this tribe, and they’re following you into the wilderness.” He grinned. “Maybe I should start calling you Moses.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“Okay, but if they start making a golden calf, things might have got out of hand.” He sipped his coffee for a while. A dog wandered over and sat down to enjoy the warmth of the fire. A retriever, its long silky fur made into gold by the firelight. Golden dog, Adam thought on the heels of the golden calf idea. A baby cried for a couple of minutes, then went quiet again.

“Tribe,” Zach said, breaking a long silence. “Is that what we are?”

“It’s what you made us.”

“I did? When?”

“At the meeting.” Adam rubbed his forehead, gathering his thoughts. Zach watched him curiously. He must not realize the effect he’d had on people up on stage in the dome. “It was when you told everyone to bring a big pack because eventually we’ll have to carry the children.” He didn’t add that from then on he’d have followed Zach wherever he led. He didn’t say it because actions speak louder. He’d climb to the peak with Zach.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Zach still appeared puzzled. “That seems an obvious point.”

“It’s the way you said it.” Adam sat up from his lounging position, put aside his coffee mug. “You didn’t say ‘you’ will have to carry ‘your’ children. You said ‘we.’ You made it everyone’s responsibility, not only something the parents had to think about themselves. That made us a group, all in it together and all one family. One tribe.”

He shook himself. Such a fanciful idea, but he couldn’t shake it.

“I didn’t think it through consciously like that,” Zach said. “Perhaps you’re right. It’s definitely a burden we should all share. There are more adults than children, and it would be harsh to expect someone to carry their child all day when other people can take a turn. It seemed the obvious practical solution.”

And in being practical, he’d been principled.
I’ll follow him anywhere. Stand at his side and give him whatever he needs
. Adam kissed him, an act driven by his own needs perhaps, but Zach seemed to appreciate it too. He stroked Adam’s hair, pulling his head closer.

A long, slow, gentle kiss. The kind of kiss Adam lived for. The kind of taking-it-easy kiss that told him he and his guy had all the time in the world. No rushing to come and go. The rest of the camp faded until there was only him and Zach and the soft night breeze. Only the touch of Zach’s hand and lips, the warmth of him.

When they broke apart, an hour might have passed, or no more than a minute.

“Now that was what I call a distraction,” Adam said. Zach didn’t speak, just leaned his forehead against Adam’s.

He spoke in barely a whisper. “I’m frightened, Adam. I keep it buried, but I’m so frightened.”

Because he knows he’s right, Adam thought. All these people are relying on him to keep them alive. He must be so afraid he’ll let them down.

“It’s okay. You aren’t alone. Me. Ann, Dr. Howie, Barbara, the Franes. Me. Oh and did I mention, me?”

The joke produced a smile, and then Zach took a deep breath and straightened up. “All that has made me thirsty. I’m going to fetch some water. Do you want some?”

“Yes, thanks.” When Zach went to get the water, Adam caught the eye of the dog sitting by the fire, watching him with a speculative expression. Either wondering about all the kissing stuff or hoping Adam had some food in his pockets.

“Sorry, friend. But if you keep watch while I distract Zach, I’ll find you a whole stack of cookies later.”

Zach came back with the water. “Who are you talking to?”

“Someone who can keep a secret.” Adam winked at the dog before leaning in to distract Zach again.

Chapter Thirteen

Zach had no trouble staying awake. Hard to get sleepy with another man’s tongue in your mouth. They sat on the grass, locked in each other’s arms, breaking apart to talk a little sometimes. Nonsense words, teasing about what they’d do to each other later. Sometimes they didn’t talk but nuzzled each other’s necks, ears, faces.

Only the knowledge they were surrounded by other people kept them from going further. At first it frustrated Zach, as arousal he couldn’t satisfy for two hours yet sent heat surging through him, making him sweat, making him blush. But after a while, he calmed down and started to appreciate the kissing for its own sake. He learned enough about the shape of Adam’s ears that if needed he would later be able to identify them while blindfolded, using only his lips.

The sound of someone moving around about twenty minutes into their watch made Zach pull away with a gasp. A sleepy-looking guy passed close to them with a muttered greeting. Zach glanced at Adam and saw that he wore the most amazing fake innocent expression. He looked like a man who’d been doing nothing more naughty out here than saying prayers. He didn’t even looked flushed, whereas Zach knew his own cheeks were boiling, and his lips felt swollen. Anyone old enough to understand these things would know how they’d been passing the time.

Adam petted the dog that had woken up from sleeping by the fire. When the sleepy man came back and passed them on the way to his tent, Adam waved at him.

“Good night, Mark.”

“Night,” the man said.

Zach turned to Adam, shaking his head. “Do you know everybody in Arius?”

“I have a good memory for faces and names.” He looked around, watching Mark vanish back into his tent. As soon as he did, Adam grabbed Zach and kissed him back into a state of delicious confusion.

A similar thing happened a couple more times, with people moving around and Zach and Adam pretending they were paying full attention to every sound and movement around them, until eventually Simon came to relieve them. While Adam went off to the latrine, Zach made a fresh pot of coffee for the next watch.

“How’s Amina managing?” he asked, handing a mug to Simon.

“She got a bit cranky today. The novelty’s worn off, and she’s missing her routine. Kids like their routine.”

Zach could relate. He liked his routine too, and he’d been out of it for days.

“So, are you and Adam planning on having kids?” Simon asked.

Zach stared. “Me and Adam?” Was he teasing? No, he looked entirely serious.

“You know, adopting or whatever.”

“Adam and I have only known each other a few days.”

“What? Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you guys had been together for a while.” He sipped his coffee, not meeting Zach’s eyes. “I guess I misunderstood. You two seem to work so well together I figured you were partners, you know.”

Torres arrived to join Simon on the watch, and he looked relieved to be rescued from the embarrassing conversation.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Zach said, heading back to the tent.
Their
tent, his and Adam’s. He sat down in front of it and thought about what Simon had said. Had Simon misunderstood something someone—his wife maybe—had told him? He’d heard husbands listened selectively to their wives. Or had he concluded it from watching them together? Watching them working so well together.

But Zach worked well with Simon too and with Korrie and Dr. Howie. So was there something different about Adam? Because they were sleeping together? That gave them an extra intimacy clear to others. And Adam was quite demonstrative. Some of the people moving around during tonight’s watch must have seen them kissing, and Adam had kissed Zach publicly before he fled the meeting with Korrie. He held hands, touched Zach’s face or hair, put his arm around him, even when there were other people around. The gestures made Zach blush—not from embarrassment but from pleasure. He’d never been involved with someone so affectionate.

“Hey, big guy, you look far away there.”

Adam strolled up and stood with the firelight behind him turning his hair into a golden halo and casting his face into soft shadows. His pose was easy and casual, a man at home in his skin. A man both exciting and restful to the more nervy Zach.

“Adam, do you want to have children one day?”

Adam stared. “Wow. Where did that come from?”

“You don’t have to answer.” Too abrupt. Too personal. Too soon. But tomorrow might be too late. They might die. He wanted to know what Adam felt about this because he wanted to know everything about Adam.

Adam sat beside him. “You’re an odd guy, you know?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I like it.”

Adam sat with his knees up, elbows resting on them, one hand holding the opposite wrist. Such good hands he had. Strong and calloused from his work.

“It’s not something I’ve given a lot of thought to yet,” he said. “But yes, I do. One day. With the right person in my life to share that with.”

Person? Interesting choice of words. He wondered if Adam could be interested in women as well as men. He flirted with women, but those women included Professor Korrie, and he probably didn’t harbor a secret lust for her. If Adam were out here alone, he would probably flirt with the trees.

“I have a great family,” Adam went on. “I’d like to bring my kids into it one day.” He smiled at Zach. “And not only my kids.”

Heat burned Zach’s cheeks, as he felt sure he’d just been paid a high compliment. He wondered what Adam’s family was like. Livelier and louder than Zach’s more sedate family, he suspected.

“What about you?” Adam asked. “Do you want children?”

“I’m an only child. So there is some
slight
pressure from my parents to provide grandchildren.”

“I’ll bet,” Adam said with a chuckle. “They aren’t chasing you to find a wife, are they?” he asked, going more serious.

“No, nothing like that. They’ll be happy with however I arrange things—as long as I eventually do.”

“Your mom can’t wait to start knitting bootees, huh?”

“My mother’s a professor of pediatric clinical psychology. She’s more likely to chart every phase of the child’s development. You should see the journal she kept about me as a baby.”

Adam laughed. “I would think that beats baby pictures in the embarrassment stakes when you take people home.”

“It’s more embarrassing for her. The politest way to put it would be to say it lacks scientific objectivity. Unless I was, in fact, the most brilliant and beautiful baby ever born.”

“Oh, I have gotta see this journal one day.” Adam scrambled up and swatted his ass, brushing away leaves and grass. “Come on, we can’t stay up all night talking about babies.”

“You’re right, we should get some sleep.” Zach stood, coming into Adam’s waiting arms.

“I never said anything about sleeping.”

* * * *

“Turn out the light,” Zach said when they got inside their tent and sealed up the door.

With a sigh, Adam turned the lamp down low, just enough light to see what they were doing. If they didn’t want to provide a shadow-picture show for the rest of the camp, they’d have to make do with the small amount of light. A shame. He wanted to see Zach in the light. Wanted Zach to see him. Wanted their eyes to lock.

The lack of space made wriggling out of their clothes both tricky and fun. Two people sharing would usually take turns undressing in a tent this size, but they were sharing more than a tent. When Zach was naked, Adam pounced, pushing him down on the sleeping bag, supporting himself over him, a hand either side of his chest.

“Got you right where I want you, my pretty,” he said in a ridiculous pirate voice, making Zach snort with laughter.