Higher Ground by Becky Black (notion reading list txt) 📗

he arrived. Adam. He looked so beautiful. Like back at the fields, the sun turning his hair into spun gold. A demigod wearing a simple T-shirt, arms bare, a long-sleeved shirt tied around his waist, his large backpack resting easily on his shoulders.

At least Zach had had a chance to make love to him as he’d longed to so intensely. If he died here, at least he took that memory with him. Or, if luck smiled on them, he might have a chance to make some more memories.

“Everyone’s ready,” Adam said.

“Tuzo!” Korrie called. “Get back over here, you idiot, or I’ll leave you behind.”

“Nearly ready. Let me help you get your pack on.” He lifted it, and Zach turned to slot his arms through the straps. He settled the pack on his shoulders, turning back around. Heavy, but it would grow lighter as he ate the food in it over the next few days, leaving room for him to carry a child later.

Adam reached around his waist, hands brushing his ribs and sending a thrill through Zach. He looked up into Adam’s face. He could smell Adam, smell the scent of the soap they’d both used in Zach’s shower. A good scent and he enjoyed it while it lasted, because they wouldn’t smell this good for long. If only there weren’t so many people here watching him, all waiting for his signal to start, then he’d kiss Adam. Perhaps he should anyway. No. No time. Adam had been reaching for the sternum strap of the backpack to keep it from sliding around. He secured it carefully.

“Not too tight?” he asked.

Zach shook his head.

“Perfect.”

“Okay.” Adam picked up Zach’s hat and plopped it onto his head. “Say the word.”

Zach adjusted the hat, nodded at Adam, then turned to the crowd. Watching, waiting.

“If everyone is ready, I think we can get on the move.”

Chapter Eleven

Who’d have thought fleeing for your life could be this much fun?

Adam walked beside Zach at the front of the group, other people sometimes coming up to talk to them, then falling back, leaving them alone together. If he ignored the voices and the dogs barking, he could pretend he and Zach were walking alone through the foothills of Shusara.

“The ecosystem seems well-established here,” Zach said.

Adam smiled. “You mean, it’s pretty?”

Zach shot him a look and laughed. “Yes. That’s what I mean.”

“It has taken hold well here,” Adam said. “We need to introduce more genetic diversity, but—” He stopped. “But I guess that’s not going to happen.”

He looked around at the lush dark green grass scattered with daisies. Daisies grew ridiculously well here. Half the people following already wore daisy chains as necklaces or crowns. There were a few trees dotted around, still quite small.

“Deciduous trees,” he said. “Hard to make them grow as fast as evergreens, but they are prettier.” Evergreens covered the lower slopes of other mountains around the island, destined to turn into timber when the next wave of colonists came. At least, that had been the plan.

A lump formed in Adam’s throat as he thought of all this sinking into the sea. All the work put in over the forty years of the colony’s existence to create a landscape where there’d once been bare rock, all wiped out. The fresh, raw beauty of Zahara gone.

“No disrespect, Zach,” he said, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “But I won’t be sorry if you’re wrong.”

“Nor will I,” Zach said quietly, then sighed. “And if I am, I got myself, you, and the Franes fired for nothing. Ruined your lives.”

Adam shrugged. “I’ll get us all jobs with my family’s landscaping firm. You know how to use a shovel, right?”

“I know one sticks the sharp end in the ground, but you might have to offer me further instructions after that.”

Adam shoved him playfully, then grabbed his arm as he stumbled over a rough patch of ground.

“Sorry. You should have a hiking pole.”

Zach glanced at Adam’s. It was a meter and a half long and had a leather wrist strap.

“Don’t even think about it, bud,” Adam said. “I brought this all the way from Earth.”

“Dr. Benesh,” came a voice from behind, making them look back to see a young woman Adam recognized as a schoolteacher. “When do we stop to rest? Some of the children are getting quite tired.”

“Ah, right. Then we can stop now,” Zach said.

“How long should we stop for?” she asked. Zach looked rather helpless at that question.

“Thirty minutes is good,” Adam said. Enough time to get some water in, eat, and rest, but not so long people got too deeply asleep and were difficult to get moving again.

“Thirty minutes,” Zach said.

The teacher hurried off, and the word spread back through the group. People started to drop their packs and sit down, take out water bottles and food. Zach and Adam did the same. Adam wasn’t tired; he could walk for hours more, even after not getting much more than a nap the night before. But it felt nice to sit here in the sun with Zach, even if Zach did look worriedly back down the hill at the hundreds of people who’d stopped on his orders and would start again when he gave the word. He looked as if this weighed more heavily than his backpack.

After a few minutes, Dr. Howie and Korrie came over.

“You two managing okay?” Adam asked.

“I can walk as far as you, whippersnapper,” Korrie said. “Even carrying this fat lump.” Tuzo’s head still protruded from her pack. Perhaps he’d resigned himself to the undignified method of transport or wasn’t willing to run off in such unfamiliar territory.

“I’ve been checking up on people,” Howie said. “There are a few blisters here and there, but nobody has twisted an ankle or anything so far. The sun isn’t too hot, and people are getting enough water. We’re in good shape.”

“There’s a stream about five miles ahead,” Zach said. “We’ll be able to refill the water supplies there. After that,