Free Flight by Lindsay Leggett Page B

are you doing here?” he asks, his voice smooth and lilting. He’s not dressed in the grungy, messy attire I’m used to, but instead dressed in a long-sleeved navy blue shirt and plain black trousers.
    “I could ask you the same thing,” I reply, realizing that I’m dressed in hunting gear—black leather pants and a thick tank top lined with belt loops and pockets for weapon storage. I must look like an idiot.
    “You’re not some kind of secret police, are you?” he asks skeptically. I resist the urge to laugh at the irony.
    “No, not at all. I just couldn’t sleep so I came for a walk,” I lie.
    He raises an eyebrow. “You came for a walk in a dead city with an anti-radiation mask strapped to your face?” he asks.
    My cheeks flush as I struggle to come up with an excuse. “Well, what are you doing here, anyway?” I retort finally.
    He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, placing his book onto the couch. Looking around the room, it seems like it was custom-furnished for relaxation. Besides the old couch, there are numerous bookshelves lined with hard-covers, as well as paintings hanging from the walls, their colors enhanced by the moonlight trickling through the windows. What is this place? Does anyone else even know about it?
    “This is where I like to come to be alone,” he answers.
    I wonder if he’s hinting something at me.
    “Sometimes you just need a few hours to yourself to contemplate everything, do you know what I mean?”
    I can’t help but nod, knowing it all too well. Alone time is very cherished time, a time when the only intrusions into my thoughts are the subtle noises of the world around me.
    “So, Piper Madden, right?” he asks.
    I nod my head and twist my lips in contemplation. “Wow, you actually remembered,” I muse with disdain. His lips curl into a wry grin.
    “I still prefer Red,” he adds. I nibble my bottom lip awkwardly, the realization dawning that he isn’t wearing a mask.
    “How are you breathing this air?” I ask abruptly. For a moment his eyes brighten and I feel a smart-ass comment coming on, but he keeps it in. Instead he inhales and exhales deeply.
    “I’d imagine that during your ‘night walk’ you saw the beginnings of new greenery growing about the city,” he says.
    I nod, eyeing him to continue.
    “If the rad levels were dangerously high, life wouldn’t be able to exist. But it does, so the rad levels can’t be nearly as high as the Elders claim it is. Try it. Take off your mask. What’s the worst that could happen?” he says.
    “Brain aneurysm,” I respond automatically. He rolls his eyes and a tiny smile involuntarily grows on me. I dig through my small side bag until I find my rad-level unit. I haven’t used it in forever, since the Corp opted to just keep everyone in anti-rad gear all the time. Sure enough, when the reading comes through, the levels are scarce; the air is breathable. I pull the mask from my face, allowing the air to caress my face.
    “Isn’t that better?” he says. He gestures toward the open end of the couch, “You might as well sit down. I’ve learned that the best thing to do when you can’t sleep is to keep yourself busy until you’re tired again.”
    Immediately I hesitate. There’s always the chance that there could be an attack on the city while I’m in here. Then again, I’m not entirely excited to spend another few hours letting pervasive thoughts of doom run my mind or running into Grier, so I take a seat on the couch, marveling at the situation. Am I actually enjoying this?
    “So, what’s with the hair?” Asher asks.
    I turn to glare at him forebodingly. “What about it?” I ask.
    He shrugs. “It’s a bit bright, isn’t it? Are you looking for attention or something?”
    “No,” I retort immediately, annoyed, “I happen to like it like this, actually. Why, do you have an issue with it?”
    “Even if I did, would you care?” he replies.
    “Probably not. Definitely not,” I say