“Why would you be? Your people invented it.” Ambrose scoffed at her.
“It doesn’t matter who invented it!” She fumed. “It doesn’t apply to you!”
He chuckled mirthlessly. “It’s absolutely meant for people like me, with darker skin. Immigrants, terrorists, even U.S. citizens.”
“Well, it’s just stupid.”
“Did you do anything to stop it?”
She blinked at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you just had the two-story house in the militarized suburbia, right? Ignoring how many khakis were gunned down in the street, beat to death by men in camo pretending to protect the peace, did you do anything to stop it?”
“Ambrose, I don’t think you’ve realized…”
“Come on, Vicki. You know as well as I do this is getting ridiculous. You’re probably just as racist as Danielle was; you’re just nicer about it. As all white people are.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I was going to say, ‘gruff’ and maybe ‘reserved’ but I would never use that word. No one deserves a racial slur. And I would never use one.”
Ambrose laughed, low and bitter. “I doubt that’s what you were going to say.”
“I don’t see anyone like that, like a Khaki, I mean.”
“Before I came here, I loved America. I dreamed of coming here my whole life,” he said, staring back into the fire, “but I was mistaken. This isn’t the America I learned about at home. This place is filled with mean, selfish people. I should have never come.”
Disappointed he was looking away, Vicki scooted closer to him and hugged her waist. There was usually something comforting in his eyes, despite his rough exterior and harsh words coming out of nowhere. “We aren’t all bad, you know.”
“Really?” He finally looked at her. “I have to hide in plain sight, cover up my tattoos, every inch of my skin. I’m harassed by law enforcement and civilians alike. I’ve never lifted a finger against this country, and I’m a citizen. Yet they treat me like I am as bad as the ones who set off the bombs. Christ, I’m not even from the Middle East – Samoa is a long way from all that! Even my fiancée…”
Vicki started to say something but shut her mouth. After a few minutes she said, “She broke your heart, didn’t she?”
“I told you, it’s none of your damn business.” He turned away from her again.
Frustrated but determined to find out something about this mostly mysterious man, Vicki probed on. “What did she do, leave Samoa? Did you follow her, only to find she arranged to marry someone else? Or, maybe she had a dark secret…”
Ambrose scoffed at her. “Do you never shut up?”
“Tell me about her,” Vicki insisted.
“No.”
“Look, if I’m going to be stuck with you for who knows how long, I have to know something about you. I already told you about me, and even more about Will. So please, Ambrose, give me something.”
“Fine. But you first.”
“I just said…
“How far along you are, Vicki?” he blurted.
Vicki jumped to her feet so fast the dust flew up around them. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t tell me you’re suddenly nauseous from stress.”
“Maybe I just ate something bad back at the farmhouse…” she trailed off.
He sighed. “I saw you change yesterday. I saw the bump, Vicki.”
She said nothing.
Ambrose stared at her from where he was sitting, his face calm. “Did you even tell your fiancé?”
“This is ridiculous, I’m not…”
“Vicki, I’m the oldest of thirteen children. Do you know what that means?”
Vicki shook her head, her arms wrapped around her. She was scared to speak, lest her tears begin again. She wouldn’t let this man see her cry. She felt like losing the contents of her stomach again.
“It means I’ve watched my mother with several pregnancies.” His bright eyes locked with hers, his face lit with the brilliant glare from the fire. “She had two sets of twins. The twins were the worst for her, I think, she was sick quite often. She looked green a lot, like you have today. And she always held her stomach, even when she thought no one was looking.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with me.” Vicki was still standing, looking down at him.
“But mostly she was tired, and usually grumpy,” Ambrose continued, ignoring her. “Somehow, though, I always knew, even before she did.”
“How is that even possible?”
He shrugged. “My father called it sa aitu, or a sacred knowledge of the unknown. Sometimes women used to come to our house and pay my father for me to tell them if they were expecting. I’d hide in my room, but I could sense it anyway. I was always right. My father usually sent them away, though.”
She hesitated to say anything at first but couldn’t resist. “Why?”
“We couldn’t let the ali’i, the chief, know I had this power.”
“Some religious thing?”
Ambrose laughed. “Not really, my parents were devoted Methodists, but yes, partially religious. My nan believed I had the power of foresight.”
Vicki couldn’t hide her shock, or the gasp that escaped. “Really?”
He looked up at her, and Vicki saw his eyes were flashing. “Well, most of Samoa is Christian. My mother dragged us all to church every Sunday, even though my father was usually working. There’s a church on every block in Samoa. But Nan Tina was into the old school stuff. Dances, traditional weekend tribal events, that sort of thing.”
“Interesting.” She was still hugging herself, her eyes jetting around the clearing, looking for an escape.
“I’m right, aren’t I, Vicki?”
She focused on him, exasperated. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Better now than later. Did you ever tell the boyfriend he was about to be a father? You had plenty of time. You’re what, three months along?”
Vicki sighed and sat on the log next to him. He’d find out eventually and hiding it wouldn’t benefit anyone. “I suspected it for a while.” She sighed. “It had been a couple of months at least. I just didn’t want to admit it. The timing was so awful, and Will would be… disappointed.”
“Disappointed? Wouldn’t he be elated?” Ambrose turned toward her, frowning.
Vicki bit her bottom lip, imagining the fallen look on Will’s face. “I don’t think so. He’d probably tell me I was worrying for nothing, and we should ‘plan things better.’ That’s just the way he is – matter of fact, but also kinda distracted. He never takes things too seriously. He just told me it would work itself out. All the time.”
“When did you find out for sure?” he asked softly.
“The last day I saw Will, right before we left for the airport,” Vicki ran her hands over her face. “I did the test and Alex even scanned it to verify. I tried to tell him the morning we left, but I couldn’t. I don’t know why, exactly.”
“You told me he was leaving for a year, but you were joining him in six months. How were you going to explain this?”
Vicki blinked. She hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I figured I’d tell him over the phone before I left.”
“Maybe it’s just me, but that’s pretty big news for a phone call.”
“I know. But I was sure he’d get over it, and come to accept it, eventually.”
Ambrose shook his head but didn’t say anything at first. “Maybe this is none of my business, but medical science provides temporary sterilization now that can be reversed whenever people are ready.”
“I know,” she interrupted sarcastically.
“So…were you trying then?”
Her eyes flashed at him, and he knew he’d asked the wrong thing. He instantly regretted asking.
“No!” she blurted, standing again and pacing slowly in front of the fire.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s not my business, it’s just so strange it happened now.”
“Tel
l me about it.” She scoffed, then sighed again. “We tried for a couple of years. When it didn’t happen, we just figured…well, you know fertility rates have dropped in the last ten years, so I just thought I was one of those millions, ya know? Then the government sanction came, and all that paperwork was required just to try for pregnancy, and we didn’t want to mess with it.”
Ambrose laughed, which made her even more mad. “Come to Samoa, Vick, and you’ll see that stat on fertility isn’t totally true!” He slapped his knee. “Are you sure it isn’t the mass amounts of radiation and chemicals pumped into the American air for the last hundred years?”
“Stop laughing, it isn’t funny.”
He cleared his throat, nearly choking on a chuckle. “You’re right. It’s not, I suppose. But just because you weren’t trying doesn’t mean he wasn’t.”
She froze and spun toward him. “What do you mean?”
“Awful convenient, don’t you think? You wind up pregnant just before everything goes to shit? I mean, haven’t you read Handmaid’s Tale? Pregnant women are very valuable in the apocalypse.”
She glared him. “No, I haven’t read it, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You said it yourself. Not a lot of kids these days. If Will had anything to do with…”
“Stop.” Vicki felt a spark of anger tighten her throat. Why was he making her doubt everything she knew? For god’s sake, Ambrose didn’t even know Will. “You’re talking crazy, Ambrose,” she started, her fists balling at her side involuntarily. “When I find Will, when this is all over, he’ll be happy for us. We can move somewhere, like Canada, maybe, where all this WWA stuff won’t matter.”
Her desire to still find Will sobered Ambrose immediately. He stood and brushed his hands over the fire, staring into it. “So naïve, Vicki, but I’ll let you live in your fantasy land.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Ambrose turned to her. “It seems to me you’re in denial about the baby and that your fiancé is probably a million scattered parts on the Portland runway.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, it’s not like there’s a hospital anywhere around here, have you ever thought about that? How the hell are we supposed to move with a screaming, crying baby, Vicki?” He crossed his arms. “And let’s be real about Will for two seconds: he’s dead. Has to be.”
Vicki jumped up and stepped close to him. “You…”
“I’m right, you didn’t even think about it,” he said gruffly, taking a step towards her and resting his hands on her shoulders. Their faces were inches apart. “But goddamn it, I’ll tell you what you have been thinking about.”
Vicki stood toe to toe with him, so close she could hear his heart beating. Hers was pounding equally as fast. “Oh, really?” she tilted her head to look up at him. “You’re a mind reader now?”
“Yes, because it’s been on my mind all day, too.”
His gripped her chin with one hand and kissed her.
At first Vicki pushed against him, but she was worried about his injured shoulder, so she lowered her hands to her side. Will’s face passed briefly across her vision, but she dismissed it. As angry as he made her, he was probably right: finding Will was a pipe dream. Will wasn’t here; it was this strong man in front of her, Ambrose was here. The one who had saved her life a dozen times since Portland had been bombed.
His good arm circled her waist and at last she gave in.
How did he know she’d been looking at him, imagining what it felt like to be kissed like this? It was rough and hard, full of longing and passion inflamed by the repeated dangers over the last couple of days. It was more than the kiss of danger he’d pressed to her lips yesterday before they jumped to the rapids. No, this one held meaning—promise. It was a kiss a week in the making.
Will. Will’s baby. She couldn’t do this to him. She loved Will. She had to find him. She knew he was alive, no matter what Ambrose wanted her to believe.
She pushed Ambrose away, breaking the kiss, and before she could stop herself, she reached up and slapped him. “What were you thinking?” she screamed. “I’m with Will, I’m Will’s fiancée!”
“Vicki, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he apologized stepping back and nearly stumbling over the log behind him. She could see the hurt and shock on his face in the dying firelight as he stumbled back. “I know I told you I’d wait until you asked but … fuck.” He scrubbed the back of his neck. “Will is probably dead, and you have to accept that. Stop living in this fantasy land, like I said. Let’s face it, I’m the only thing you have keeping you alive right now.”
“You’ve got be kidding me,” Vicki sneered, crossing her arms.
“Huh?”
“You’re the one living in a fantasy land!” She exploded, throwing her arms to her side. “You’re such an ass. You think you know everything about me, about Will? No wonder your girlfriend left you, or whatever. She probably couldn’t stand the sound of your voice anymore, you … you asshole!” She clamped her hand over her mouth then, shocked at her cruel outburst. She expected to see the look of hurt on his face again.
Ambrose just chuckled, which made her even more angry. “Just when I think you’re about to say something intelligent, this comes out.” He waved a hand at her and turned away. “You’re incorrigible, woman. I’m done with you.” He stomped off into the tree line.
“Ambrose! Where are you going?”
“To get more firewood!” he yelled over his shoulder. In the darkness, his bulking form disappeared quickly.
Vicki looked at the dwindling fire. How in the world was he going to carry firewood with only one good arm? “No way, you are not leaving me out here! Don’t you know there are bears in these woods? Wolves? Cougars? Ambrose?”
“I’m sure you can figure it out,” his voice was faint now, and she could barely hear him clomping through the underbrush.
Without thinking, Vicki pushed through the woods after him. She wasn’t going to sit here and wait for some animal to come tear her to shreds. Ambrose was a horrible, conceited man who never thought before he spoke – not even when he stole a kiss, either. But she’d be damned if she’d die out here in the woods.
The woods were thicker than Vicki imagined, and infinitely darker. Within a few feet of the clearing she lost the light entirely, and even with her ability, seeing was murky and clouded, compounded with the moonless night. On the other side of the clearing the terrain had been rough, but nothing compared to this. She tripped once, caught herself on a mossy log, and struggled through thickets tearing at her pants.
She was terrified to call after him, but thought she heard him to the left. She started in that direction.
No sooner had she left the clearing than the moon overhead disappeared above the thick pines and Douglas firs. “Ambrose!” she whispered, hoping he hadn’t gone too far. Maybe he was waiting to scare her, and they’d laugh about it later. Even with her excellent night vision, she couldn’t make him out in any direction. “Ambrose, I’m sorry,” she tried again after a few minutes. “Please, where are you?”
A guttural growl sounded behind her, and she spun as fast as the brush would allow. A bobcat, five times the size of a house cat, perched on the log she’d just crawled over. She stumbled backwards with a cry, her heel hooking on a branch she didn’t see. She went sprawling on her back, flailing her arms at the open air, reaching for something, anything to stop her fall.
The large cat wiggled on its haunches, and she knew it was preparing to pounce.
Instead of protecting her face, her arms instinctively locked around her abdomen and she curled into a ball with her eyes shut tight.
She was going to die out here, and it was all Ambrose’s fault. Why had he left? She was so sorry she had been so harsh with him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
She couldn’t even scream as the throaty snarl of the cat split the air.
Chapter Three
Stalking through
the woods, Ambrose nearly forgot about the firewood he was supposed to collect. How dare she call him what she did? He was just speaking the truth, and she needed to hear it.
Goddamn it, he thought, she’s hot and cold, then hot again. Why can’t women make up their goddamn mind? Chasing after Will was a stupid lie that would end with both of them dead. Why couldn’t she see that?
Vicki sent mixed messages every time he turned around. She clung to him like he was the last man on the planet, but then did a one-eighty on him and acted fiercely devoted to her fiancé. She was so committed she was oblivious to the truth about the man. At least, the truth that Ambrose could piece together from only fragments. Why would she—
A crash came to his left, ripping him from his thoughts. Not human, not large animal. A wolf maybe? He swung around, trying to see Vicki in the fading light of the forest. Too late he realized he had traversed farther than he intended, and it was close to full darkness in the overhang of the thick firs.
A flash of golden fur off to his left made him spin again. That was no wolf. It was even worse.
“Vicki!” he called, dropping the small bundle of kindling from his good arm. He flew through the underbrush, crashing loudly to draw the attention off the attacker. He pulled the military-issue knife from his waist and held it close to himself.
Leaping over a large log and cutting through a dense thicket, he shook off the moss and leaves. Another fierce growl kept his aching legs pumping.
Then, he saw it. The tip of a stunted tail, poking from the low branches of a tree. He heard the snarl of the cat’s guttural growl. Vicki’s silent whimper followed by “I’m sorry” floated on the soft evening breeze.
Sorry? For what? He had deserved everything she said. He was too forward, again; he never thought about what came out of his mouth before it was too late. He cursed under his breath but had no time to think about it now.
In one swift motion, Ambrose grabbed the cat with his injured arm, grating his teeth at the agony in his shoulder. He whipped the cougar’s head back by the scruff of its neck and ran his knife along its throat. The blood sprayed all over Vicki, who was curled in a ball just under its front paws.
Lavender Dreams: Life After Us: Book Two Page 3