What Lasts in Us

CHAPTER NINE

After collecting his rifle and what remains of his dignity, Nate takes me back to his camp. Emmi rushes forward to greet us, Dog in her arms, and just seeing her again, properly this time, sends a sharp pain through my chest.

The light of the fire gives away Nate's injuries, from the deep gashes on his face and neck from where I hit him with the buckle, the bruised and broken skin below his eye, right on his cheekbone where I punched him. He's almost a patchwork of broken skin.

He snaps his gaze from me. "Emmi," Nate says as the little girl approaches, "this is Charlotte. Charlotte, this is Emmi." He talks to the little girl with such patience and love, it makes me wonder about their relationship. Are they related? Or is she someone he's picked up along the way?

I might be a bitch and a handful for Nate, but to this little girl, whose young, innocent face is painful to look at, I'm going to be nice. I'm going to be me – which is something I haven't been able to do in a long time. The end of the world does wonders to your personality.

"Hi Emmi," I say, and I hold out my hand to her as I crouch down. "I'm Charli." It's a bit of a jab at Nate by using my nickname to introduce myself to Emmi, by implying she can call me that and he can't.

The girl juggles Dog to her other arm before extending her hand; she might be small but her grip is strong. "Hi Charli," she says, and a small smile appears on her face. "I'm Emmi, but my real name's Emilee."

I can't help but smile back. "I see you like Dog."

"That's his name?" she exclaims, incredulous. She pulls her hand back as she cuddles Dog closer.

I pull myself back to my full height. "Well, he is a dog," I say. "You know, like Pikachu is a Pikachu."

Emmi nods slowly. "I guess ..."

"Emmi," Nate says suddenly, and the little girl's attention snaps to him avidly. "Do you think you could feed Dog?" he asks. He crouches beside her now. "He hasn't eaten." All day, and for two, three, four days, I don't know. God, I hope they have some kind of meat to feed him. If in this world I can't be healthy, I sure as hell hope that at least Dog can be.

Emmi nods. "Do you want something to eat, too?" And then, quietly, "How come you took so long?" Her face literally droops as she says this, her bottom lip quivering. I can't help but feel guilty for being the reason Nate was gone so long. I can't help but feel guilty for witnessing this tender interaction between them, but I can't move. Nate doesn't trust me, so taking one step in any direction will see him on me within seconds. But standing here, I feel privy to something private.

Nate pulls Emmi to him, and her head finds his shoulder as he holds her; poor Dog gets squished in their sandwich of bodies. "I'm sorry, baby girl," he says quietly. "I was looking for something to help Robbie. And then I found Charlotte, and she wasn't being very nice."

Emmi presses her face into his shoulder, hidden by a curtain of blonde hair. "What was she doing?" she asks shyly, voice muffled.

"She kept running away," Nate says, and that bloody smirk of his appears. He lifts his gaze slightly and seeks me out. If Emmi wasn't in the way, I'd knock it off his face. "And she was calling me names."

"That's not very nice."

"No, it wasn't," Nate replies. He finally averts his gaze and focuses on Emmi again. His lips brush her hair. "And then she got hurt so I had to help her."

Awkwardly standing here, so very close to bolting, I listen to Nate's choice of words and realise that through his story-telling to Emmi, he's apologising to me. In a round-about way.