“That’s one of your cheesier lines,” I told him but didn’t move to make him stop.
“It’s the altitude,” he told me. “I don’t have enough oxygen in my brain.”
“I see.” I sighed as his kisses moved higher.
His arms grew tighter around my waist, and for the first time in hours, I wasn’t cold. I didn’t shiver. I was safe there in that moment and I wanted it to last forever. But it couldn’t. From the depths of the cave, I heard Liz coughing in her sleep.
“We shouldn’t have let her come,” I said.
“If it were up to me none of you would be here.” Zach stopped kissing me. He turned me to face him. “You know this is crazy, right?”
“Preston would do it for us,” I said.
“Would he?” I couldn’t tell if it was a rhetorical question or not until Zach said again, “Would he really?”
I shook my head and looked back at the top of the mountain. It was below zero, and I shivered even in my insulated clothing. I was half a world away from my summer vacation, but the memories I didn’t have were always there, coursing under the surface. No matter how many times I tried to claim them, they slipped away. The harder I tried, the faster they shot out of my reach, so I didn’t try to grab them then.
“I don’t know how to say it, Zach, but…last summer. I think he saved my life.”
“They may not come for him, Cammie. He’s probably safe in there. And…” Zach trailed off. Something in his face told me he didn’t want to finish. Something in my gut told me he had to.
“And what?”
“What if he’s supposed to be in there? What if Preston is dangerous?”
I pulled away. Maybe I had to look at him more squarely, or maybe it felt a little like I was temporarily touching a stranger.
“This is Preston we’re talking about, Zach. Dangerous isn’t the word I’d use to describe him.”
“And people are never more than they appear?”
“I can’t leave him in there,” I said. “Not if we might need him.”
“He’s Circle, Cammie. He’s the next generation.”
“He’s not.”
“He is,” Zach said. A cloud passed overhead, and a shadow crossed his face. “I know he is, because I am too.”
“No,” I said.
“You know what my earliest memory is?” he asked with a sad, quick laugh. “My mom used to sing me this song—about kings and knights and horsemen. All my life, I thought it was just a song—just something mothers sing to little boys. But it wasn’t, Cammie. It was about the government. Coups. Power. I wasn’t old enough to talk yet, and I was already learning who to hate, and how to burn them to the ground.”
“Mothers sing songs, Zach. It doesn’t mean—”
“I wonder what kinds of songs Preston’s father sang to him.” Zach raised his eyebrows. “I wonder if he’s lying in a cell humming them to himself right now.”
I should have said something—done something. He was in a dark place, there in the moonlight. But before I could say a word, Zach took a deep breath and looked up at the fortress. “I wonder if I should join him.”
“No,” I snapped and reached for Zach’s hand. “You don’t get to talk that way.”
“But—”
“But your mom and Dr. Steve were in my head ten weeks ago and you’re not afraid of me. So you don’t get to be afraid of yourself. Not now.”
“But—”
“Kiss me, Zach.” I pressed up against him, cold and alone. I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to be warm and safe again. “Kiss me.” I brushed my lips across his mouth, lightly at first, teasing. Tasting. And then his lips parted and the moment was over.