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

the is to the past tense. Zach abruptly stood up and walked away without a word.

“Better go with him,” Dr. Howie said to Adam. He didn’t need the suggestion, already getting to his feet. He hurried after Zach as the darkness swallowed him up.

“Zach, wait up.”

“Leave me alone,” Zach’s choked voice came back.

“Never going to happen.” Zach sped up, but Adam matched his pace and caught up to him. “At least let’s use a flashlight before we break our necks.” He took one from his pocket and turned it on.

“Adam, please, I need to be alone for a while.”

“No, you need to cry or scream or whatever you need to do. You don’t need to be alone for that. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Zach didn’t answer, kept on walking until the voices from the camp faded, and even the campfire was only a distant glow. At last he stopped and dropped to the ground, facedown. Adam lay close beside him, feeling the convulsions of Zach’s body as the sobbing took hold. He didn’t shush him; he didn’t try to stop him. He only stroked his hair and back in a soothing rhythm to let him know he wasn’t alone.

He shed tears too and didn’t wipe them away, let them fall onto the tough, hardy grass they lay on. After a few minutes, Zach stilled. A moment after that, he turned into Adam’s arms.

“Thank you,” he said. “You’re right. I didn’t need to be alone. It’s better you’re here.”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

“What I said earlier… What we both said…”

“It stands. It’s the truth. But we’ll talk about it when this is over.”

“Okay.” He snuggled against Adam and rested a hand on his chest, over his heart. Did he want to feel the beat of Adam’s heart to remind him death was still a long way behind them? They could stay ahead of it. They would stay ahead of it.

“I didn’t realize it would hurt so much,” Zach said. “I knew the people who didn’t come with us would die, and I’d feel awful about it, but I didn’t know it would be this bad.”

“When it’s real it’s very different from what you imagine it will be.”

“The thing is, I don’t usually feel…connected to people, I suppose you’d call it. I don’t know if it’s because I was rather sheltered as a child, or because I’m smarter than most people, which sometimes gives me a feeling I’m not one of them. But these people—all of them, the ones with us, Barbara’s group, the people who died today—I almost feel like they’re family. I just don’t know if I can stand to lose anyone else and stay sane. If Barbara’s group doesn’t move fast enough—”

“They’ll move fast enough. The water is already rising. That’s gonna be a hell of an incentive.”

“And if it rises faster than they can climb?”

Adam almost said they made their choice. But he restrained himself. Zach wouldn’t respond to that reasoning. Right now, perhaps there was only one thing he might respond to, to at least temporarily relieve his grief and pain.

Adam kissed him.

ZACH PULLED ADAM closer, held him tight, as if the water already lapped at their feet and only by holding on to each other could they be saved from drowning.

“Adam, oh, Adam,” he gasped, kissing, pulling back to nuzzle Adam’s ear and neck, kissing again.

“Shh,” Adam said softly. “It’s okay. Relax.”

It was comfort, Zach knew. Pity even. But more than those things too. Adam loved Zach—he’d said so. Lovers would do anything to ease each other’s pain. Perhaps Adam sought relief from pain too. Zach lay back, pulling Adam down half on top of him.

They were in the open, no shelter, no privacy, but Zach didn’t hesitate. He’d walked a long way from the camp. His lover had followed him. Nobody would be crass enough to follow them. The darkness hid them well once they turned off the flashlight. Starlight made only enough light to see the outlines of each other’s bodies as they shed their clothes. Zach missed the moon. This planet had none, and he longed for nights with a close, full moon, making it almost as bright as day sometimes. One day, he vowed, he’d take Adam home to Earth, where they could make love by moonlight. If they lived.

Adam undid Zach’s pants and pulled them down. “No underwear?” he said, sounding surprised.

“I ran out of clean,” Zach said. Adam chuckled, the sound vibrating against Zach’s skin as Adam kissed his neck, moved on to his chest. Zach didn’t want to talk about underwear. He stroked Adam’s broad shoulders, tried to restrain himself from pushing to speed Adam on downward.

He’d only laugh and go even slower anyway, determined to tease. Such a tease. It drove Zach to delightfully frustrated begging. Tonight he didn’t tease so much. After what they saw today, even Adam had little sense of humor left. Adam slid Zach’s pants right off, leaving him naked. The grass felt damp under his back, butt, and legs, the air chilly on his skin. But heat pooled in his groin, and his cock felt as if it should glow, it was so hot. Adam stroked it with his familiar slow and gentle rhythm.

“Nice?” he said.

“Adam, please. I can’t stand waiting.” His voice rose to a plea, and Adam quickened the pace of his stroking.

“Nice?” he said again as if Zach hadn’t said anything in between.

“Nice! Yes, it’s nice!” Nice didn’t begin to cover it. “Please, Adam.” He tried to keep his voice down in case it carried on the night air to the rest of the camp. What would others make of it, he wondered, Zach and Adam having sex despite the horrors of the day? Was it insensitive? Or were other people doing the same in their tents or in the shadows away from camp? Others needing both the oblivion of orgasm and the assurance they were still alive. Celebrating life in the face of death.

Adam’s lips touched the head