Free Until the End by Tracey Ward Page B

over his face slowly. “I really didn’t want to do it so soon. Looters are nuts. They will shoot us over your toothbrush.”
    “I think we have to take our chances that the crazy looters have done their business and are holed up in their mini fortresses by now. It’s been about twenty-four hours since it started. The crazy looting was probably done last night.”
    He looks unconvinced. “Maybe.”
    “There’s no maybe about it. I lost an arrow back there, I only have five left and I don’t know how to make them.”
    “You don’t know how to make them?” he asks, his voice surprised. “I thought you loved shooting, how do you not know how to make an arrow?”
    “You like boats.” I point out. “Make me a boat. One that doesn’t take on any water, one that we can trust to function just as well as this one here.”
    “Okay, I get your point. So we need arrows.”
    “Yes. If we go to a pro shop I can probably find a book there that can show me how to make arrows. We can get you a bow too. I’ll teach you how to shoot it. And if we’re both going to start firing them, some of us with more accuracy than others, then knowing how to make arrows will come in handy.”
    Jordan grimaces. “A pro shop? That’s the first place a lot of people are going to go to loot.”
    “Then they probably already did it and it will be deserted. Or people will be hiding there, staying near the gear.”
    “All the more reason to not go there.”
    “We need to go.”
    “Tomorrow.” he says firmly. “Let’s give it one more day. Please? It feels too soon and I want to get farther south before we stop.”
    I stare him down and let my displeasure show but he doesn’t flinch.
    “Fine.” I say grudgingly.
    “Thank you. Now get of my way, I need to warm up and we’re losing ground drifting like this.”
    The trading of places is awkward and ends up with us hugging each other in the center of the boat and then pivoting until we’ve switched spots. He is freezing cold and the water that seeps out of his shirt into mine gives me the shivers. It took us four hours to make it a little under six miles, so I’m glad it looks like he’s gotten a second wind and starts rowing vigorously. The current isn’t terribly strong, thank goodness, and we make decent time. Less decent when I’m at the oars. I don’t have half his upper body strength and it shows when it’s my turn to drive.
    We’re well out of downtown Portland and I can tell Jordan is relaxing a little. We’re still in a really populated area, though I can’t tell exactly what part of the city or if we’ve moved into a new one yet. I do notice that the wind is getting colder, the sky darker and rain is definitely on its way. I point it out to Jordan who stops rowing and frowns.
    “Great.” he mutters. He’s dried off now, at least most of him. I imagine his jeans are still uncomfortably damp and getting drenched again cannot sound fun.
    “We should stop for the night.”
    “What time is it?”
    “About 4pm.” I tell him, and I know the answer the second I say it.
    “No way, too much daylight left. We should keep going.” he says reaching for the oars.
    I reach out and touch his shoulder. “Wait. Hear me out. It’s going to rain soon and our bags aren’t waterproof. The first aid stuff could get soaked. Also, you said we could loot tomorrow and there’s a Hank’s Sporting Goods in Lake Oswego. We’ve gotta be close to there, right?”
    He nods grudgingly but keeps his back to me. “I think so, yeah.”
    “Then we should stop there. We’ll get someplace warm and safe and wait out the night then hit the store early.”
    “Alright,” he says on a sigh. “We’ll stop in Lake Oswego. But we’re not staying in a house.”
    “Jordan,” I begin, trying to sound reasonable and not whiny but I don’t think I succeed.
    “You can if you want, I won’t stop you,” he interrupts “But I’m not going into a populated area and opening myself up to being