“Horror transcends time, as well.” She brought it into the kitchen and placed it in the box. “If they do any tests, they’ll be able to date all of this material. It will back up your story. Come on outside, we’ll take some pictures.”

Because he got to the camera before her, Cal claimed his right to take the first shots. He snapped the cabin, Libby and the cabin, Libby beside the Land Rover, in the Land Rover. Libby laughing at him. And yelling at him.

“Do you know how much film you’ve used?” Blowing out a breath, she ripped open another pack. “This stuff averages a dollar a shot. Anthropology’s a fascinating field, but the pay’s lousy.”

“Sorry.” He moved to the front of the cabin when she waved with the back of her hand. “I never thought to ask. What’s your credit rating?”

“I have no idea.” She took a shot of him standing, thumbs hooked in the pockets of his borrowed jeans. “We don’t do things that way now. At least I think credit rating means something else. Now it’s a matter of what you’re worth, or what you make. Annual salary and that sort of thing.” She was enough her parents’ child that she rarely gave it much thought. “Why don’t you unstrap your cycle and sit on it in front of the cabin? A now-and-then sort of thing.”

He obliged. “Libby, I don’t have any way to pay you back, in your currency, for all of this.”

“Don’t be silly. It was only a joke.”

“There’s a great deal more I can’t pay you back for.”

“There’s nothing to pay back.” She lowered the camera and weighed each word carefully. “Don’t think of it as an obligation. Please. And don’t look at me like that. I’m not ready to be serious.”

“We don’t have much time left.”

“I know.” She hadn’t understood everything he’d dictated to her the night before, but she knew he would be gone before the sun rose the next day. “Let’s not spoil what we have.” She looked away to give herself a moment to regain her balance. “It’s a shame this model doesn’t have a timer. It would be nice to get a couple of pictures with both of us in them.”

“Hold on.” He walked around the side of the building, returning a few moments later with a garden hoe. “Sit on the steps,” he told her, then proceeded to strap the camera to the seat of his cycle. He leaned over, checking and adjusting until he had Libby in frame. “Got it.” Pleased with himself, he jogged over to sit beside her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Smile.”

She already was.