Learning to Dance

And then the Ranger, sweeping in like a dead-
goddamned knight in shining armour, destroying them all,
doing what she couldn’t, making her feel more helpless
than before. He’d cut her down and caught her, and they’d
stared at each other, the only two survivors in a world of
destruction. As soon as she saw his blue eyes she’d trusted
him, inexplicably, irrefutably. She’d never stopped.
There was nothing left of the house but the remnants of a
raging fire, a few broken pieces of pottery, and a
photograph, somehow preserved in its shattered frame. She
held it now, tracing her finger over the faces she had only
seen in her dreams these past ten years. It was an
impromptu family portrait, taken when she was twelve or
thirteen, her aunt and cousins and mama and her all
gathered together under the biggest tree in the yard, the
baby screeching, two of her cousins pulling each other’s
hair. Her mama with her big, comfortable arms wrapped
around Taz’s skinny, braided younger self, both of them all
smiles for the camera. Taz blinked. The tears were there,
just behind her eyes, but they wouldn’t come.
She should get up, get back in the Jeep, and return to the
bunker before anyone realized she was gone. But she
couldn’t make herself leave.
Suddenly behind her there were footsteps. She didn't
move. She knew who it would be.
He looked down at her sadly, and she couldn’t speak,
because it was just like him to have her figured out so
precisely, to know exactly where she would have gone and
why, to come and look at her like that, like her pain was his
own. He sat down next to her, without saying anything at
all. She allowed her head to fall to his shoulder and rest
there, seeking his strength. Finding it.
They stayed like that for a long time.
Suddenly a crackling sound came from Up’s wrist. “Hey,