The Ark

35.

I sat in the passenger seat, staring at Zaphron through the windshield. He leaned over the open bonnet—his hair slicked back in the rain as he waited for the charged battery to sync with the car. The sight of his fingers drumming idly on the front fender made me warmer than it ought to. It was only minutes ago that those fingers had slid up under my hoodie, tracing their way along my ribs and down my stomach as he kissed me.

I'd actually been disappointed when the car's battery finished charging.

I tore my eyes away from Zaph and looked down at the pair of chips in my hand. The gold drive looked shiny next to the black one I had picked up at Dad's apartment, but they were identical in every other way. It had to mean he had left it there for me.

Curiosity over the chip's contents was my only real incentive to leave the mountain. Without it, the temptation to hide in a post-apocalyptic wreckage with Zaphron may have won out. It wasn't just the daunting return to reality and all the weight of my responsibilities that made me want to stay. It was the fear that things might change between Zaphron and me once we were back with the group—that everything between us would fade out in the chaos.

And I really didn't want that to happen.

I looked up and caught Zaph staring at me over the bonnet, his gaze unwavering as it caught mine. He winked and bit his lip to reign in a smirk. Heat trickled through my body and I glanced away before he could see the colour in my cheeks.

In an effort to distract myself, I blinked on my Lens and fired off a quick message to Delta. I told her we'd be back soon, but didn't mention the chip. I figured that would be better as a surprise.

While I waited for her reply, I checked the radar one more time. The storm had now left the Ark completely and was tracking out into the Western Pacific, petering out into a low-pressure system. Feeds rolled down the side of my vision, full of articles on the destruction it had caused. I gave them half of my attention, until one headline caught my eye.

46 confirmed dead in building collapse after tornadoes tear through the Eastern Territory.

I swiped and jabbed at my overlay, ice threading through my veins as I scanned the article and found the address.

It was Mum's estate.

I covered my mouth to muffle the strangled sound that crept out of my throat, my eyes blurring with tears.

It couldn't be possible.

Instinct took over and scrabbled though the duffel for an earbud. I needed to check she was okay.

Before I could reconsider, I dialled her Lens ID from memory—shifting my focus briefly to check Zaphron was still preoccupied with the battery.

The line rang three times before someone answered.