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

“It’s got to be. That’s a lot of vehicles on the move. Maybe enough for everyone.”

“Could they really move everyone? There must be people too ill to move. Or women about to give birth.”

“They’ll have figured something out.”

“I hope so.” He watched for a while longer, then gave the glasses back to Adam. “But I still think we need to continue climbing for another hour. We’ll stop then, while we have some light to put the tents up.”

“You’re a martinet, you know?”

“Someone has to be. If you were deciding, we’d still be taking hourly naps in the meadows in the foothills.”

Adam grinned. “Are you suggesting I’m lazy, Dr. Benesh?”

“I’ve never known a man who valued five more minutes in bed as highly as you do.”

Adam laughed. “You’re not far wrong, actually. Being lazy is how I ended up here. Okay, everyone,” he called to the group. “Captain Bligh here says to get on your feet and keep climbing.” There was some groaning and protests that it hadn’t been ten minutes. But people clambered up, and in a few minutes, they were climbing again.

Zach and Adam walked in the rear this time. Adam found he rather liked it. Though people glanced back at them often enough, he didn’t feel as if he had one hundred and fifty pairs of eyes watching his every move the way he did when they walked in front. A few spots of rain hit them but didn’t last long, as the wind picked up and clouds scudded across the sky.

“So, how did you end up here because you’re lazy?” Zach asked after a few minutes.

“Oh, that.” Adam sighed. “We’re about the same age, right? But I’m still a doctoral candidate while you’re a PhD. Okay, you’re really smart, but I’m not exactly a knuckle-dragger. I should have my doctorate by now—according to my parents anyway. They were getting a little tired of funding my eternal studenthood, which I guess is reasonable. I have been milking it a bit.”

“But why here?”

“Working for the Institute meant they’d sponsor my studies, so I could take some of the financial pressure off the folks. But also because it’s so dull here.”

“Dull?” Zach goggled.

“I meant before you came along. There isn’t much social life. There aren’t twenty different bars to hang out in. So I can give my studies one hundred percent effort. I don’t think I ever gave anything one hundred percent effort, except for partying.” He frowned, serious suddenly, surprised at himself. “Wow. Never thought of it that way before. Yeah. I’m more a man who gives ninety percent. The extra push to one hundred is too much work.”

“You like to take the time to enjoy life, not just work, study, and sleep. I should have done the same.”

He did seem like someone who could have benefited from a little more socializing during his many years of study. Adam wished he’d known Zach then. He’d have given him some advanced lessons in relaxing.

“Well, it’s all screwed now. I’ll have to start over with my experiments.” Adam grimaced. “A year of work, gone.”

“It’s not gone yet. You never know, I might be wrong about the whole island flooding.”

“You don’t believe that for a minute. Anyway, if you’re wrong, you’ll leave. I don’t want you to leave, Zach. I’m not done with you yet.” He couldn’t imagine a time when he would be done with Zach. He grinned. “You’ve grown on me, you big-nosed smart aleck.”

“You could—” Zach began, but his words were drowned when all the dogs began to bark and howl. The group came to a halt, fear spreading through it rapidly.

“Oh shit,” Adam groaned. “Here we go again.”

“Get down,” Dr. Howie yelled. “Everyone on the ground.” The minor injuries he’d dealt with so far had mostly been to people knocked off their feet by shaking ground. People dropped, grabbing kids and dogs, holding them close to keep them from running off in a panic. Zach and Adam hit the dirt and held on to each other, as they had done in the tent the night before.

The roar came, rising from the earth, as if something in the rock awoke and cried out in rage. The tremor started. The ground rippled. It seemed slight at first, but it grew in intensity. Loose rock bounced down the slope. It went on. And on. It didn’t stop after only a few seconds as it had before.

Zach groaned. A sound of total despair. He pulled Adam closer, buried his face against Adam’s neck, and spoke in a muffled voice.

“Adam, I love you.”

Adam pulled back, startled, looking down at Zach in his arms. The trembling, roaring ground became almost distant, almost meaningless. He saw the sincerity in Zach’s eyes. The words were true. Torn from him by the fear of death but no less sincere for that. More so.

“Zach…”

The roar lessened, quieted; the shaking eased.

“Zach.” Adam leaned closer, lowering his voice—not that anyone was remotely interested in anything they had to say right then, other things on their minds. “Zach, I love you too.”

“You don’t have to say it just because I did.”

“I’m not.” He’d fallen in love with him at the mass meeting, he realized. Seeing him on stage, taking this awful burden onto his shoulders, stepping into a role that didn’t come naturally to him, purely because it had to be done. Adam fell in love with him then; he couldn’t deny it.

“Zach! Adam!” Korrie’s voice, high and panicky. She ran to them, slipping on loose rock. “Look. The vents! The vents!” She thrust her binoculars into Zach’s hands as he and Adam scrambled to their feet.

Zach raised the glasses. Adam did the same with his, joined by many other people, looking out at the basin with binoculars or just their eyes. The ground trembled again, and some people dropped to lie down, but Zach and Adam didn’t lie down. Most of the people watching the basin didn’t lie down. They