by Burgy, P. J.
“I understand.”
“Okay, just wait here,” she said, and then went to the room to get the red light lantern. She brought it back to the bathroom, entered with him, and then turned the lantern on, setting it on the sink next to the towels. It bathed the room in a soft, red glow.
She threw the towels over the side of the glass pane of the shower door and then grabbed the bucket, lifting it up. She took her sneakers off first, and then went into the shower, closing the sliding door, hiding behind the cloudy glass.
As she undressed, she threw her clothes over the edge of the glass door. She grabbed for the smallest of the towels first, and dipped it in the bucket, wringing out the room temperature water.
Russell sat on the closed toilet, hands in his lap. She could see the dark shape of him, murky and fuzzy through the glass, as she crouched in the shower, beginning to scrub at her face.
“What did you want to talk about?” he asked.
“Well, first, I wanted to apologize, for what happened at the hive.”
“I went in. I did that to myself.”
“I mean, in the cage.” She wet her hair, trying to get the sweat off of her scalp. Knowing he was on the other side of the glass didn’t bother her, but she could see his head turning back and forth, his shoulders rolling, and she heard his boots tapping on the floor. He was like a nervous child, his movements repetitious and quick.
Russell sighed. “Oh. Yeah. I thought I’d…”
“I felt bad about it after,” she said. “I never got the chance to tell you I was acting, you know? I feel like I should have told you that right away, the first time I saw you again. I couldn’t though.”
“There were definitely more pressing matters at hand.” Russ coughed.
“Yeah.”
“You're an amazing actress, you know.”
“Am I?”
“Fooled me...”
“What did Isaac say to you?” she asked.
“Hrm?”
“Father Isaac. Before you killed him.”
“Oh. He, ah, he said... that they’d let death in, and that it had come for me. He told me to tell them that death rode on a pale horse. And then he asked me to be his angel of mercy. I don’t know. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I did the old man a solid. No one deserves to die that way. Or to turn. It was an act of mercy, what I did,” he said, “You saw that?”
“I did.” She continued to clean herself off as he cleared his throat. Even though the water wasn’t warm, she still enjoyed it. She stood, rinsing off.
“Did you find Ash?”
“No,” she answered, eyes closing. “She told me they were all dead. I didn’t see his body, but I feel it in my heart that he’s gone. Even if he hadn’t died, if he’d turned…”
“He’d still be gone, of course.”
“Ash was a good man. I wish... I wish I’d said goodbye to him at least. I wish I’d told him all the things I was keeping inside. I wish I’d been less selfish. He’s gone though. I tried. If I’d gotten there sooner, I might have found him in time.”
“You wouldn’t have. You’d have watched him die. You might have been captured sooner. Might have gotten Infected by him. By them,” he said.
“Still... I should be grieving. I’m not crying though. Why aren’t I crying? I loved him, didn’t I? I should be weeping my fucking eyes out. But, I’m not.” She exhaled, looking down at the bucket as she continued to bathe.
“We all grieve in different ways.”
“I guess.”
“You were prepared for it then. That’s what it was.”
She glanced at the glass. “Maybe.”
“You could have left the city without me,” he said, his voice strange and hard to read. “I’d gotten you there. You could have figured out how to get back. Your way out, you had it all planned. You came for me. In the basement, you said you needed me to get you to the business district. You didn’t. It’s a straight shot. You came this way to get to the city. You lied.”
“You knew I was lying.”
“Yeah.”
“Guess I couldn't fool you twice.”
“You weren't trying to hide it this time.”
“But you still came with us,” she said.
“I did.”
“Why?” she asked.
Russell snorted. “You know why.”
“Part redemption, I know that, but part something else, too, I think,” she said, dropping the small towel into the bucket. She pressed her palm against the murky glass, watching his form move on the other side. He was standing up, approaching the closed shower door. Kara continued, her voice breathy. “What is that something else, Russ? Do you love me?”
“I don’t know,” he replied.
She saw him doing something, his movements hard to track. And then, he pressed his bare palm against the glass, right where her hand rested. She stared, her eyes locked on the shape of his fingers, his hand much larger than hers. “What do you feel, Russ?”
“I feel like life isn’t fair,” he whispered from the other side of the glass. “I feel like I can be as good a man as I need to be, do what is required of me for forgiveness, and yet I can’t have what I want. I’ll never have what I want. Not in this life.”
“What do you want?”
“What I want is to tell you how I feel. But I can’t, because it won’t matter. It won’t change this. It won’t change what I am, or what I could do to you. No, life isn’t fair.” He kept his hand on the glass, and then leaned forward, pressing his forehead against the shower pane.
A warmth flooded her chest, an impulsive heat overtaking her better judgment, and she placed her lips to the glass, kissing the cold, smooth surface. He must have sensed it, because she saw him tilt his head and do the same. It was a surreal exchange of affection and she swallowed thickly, kissing the glass again as he copied her, echoing her actions.
She closed her eyes. “I want you to stay with me, Russ.”
“Stay? I don't understand.”
“You deserve better than to hide away, all alone in the middle of that city. Stay with me.”
“You don't know what you're asking.”
“There will be a place for you at Blue Lagoon,” she said. “When they meet you, and see who you are, they'll accept you, I swear it. When we get to my fort, you'll see.”
“You should dry off and get dressed. Get some sleep.” His voice was low and husky.
She frowned, eyes half opened, and she saw his shadow sway slightly. She spread her fingers across the glass and again he emulated her, their hands matched. When she lifted her palm away, his drew back as well and he stood there, a dark shape on the other side of the shower pane, swaying as if caught in a weak breeze. Kara licked her lips. “Yeah. We can leave early in the morning.”
He opened the bathroom door, pausing. “Good night, Kara.”
Then, he left, shutting the door behind him.
She dried off, got dressed.
Kara stepped out into the hall, lantern in her hand. She checked the master bedroom and saw that he wasn't there. Lena was still out for the count, sleeping under the covers in the same position she'd left her in. Kara wanted to go downstairs and see him again, but she did not. Instead, she curled up on the edge of the bed, giving Lena the lion's share of the mattress, and closed her eyes.
She was awake before Lena, which wasn't a surprise. Kara got the girl up, and the two grabbed their things and went down to the living room. Kara was packing the bag with the apples from the tree in the backyard as Russell waited out front, his visor down as he appeared to be admiring the sunrise. Kara came to stand out front with him, noting the clear sky and the cool morning air. The grass rolled like waves out in the fields. Russell went to the barn to get Angel while Lena joined Kara.
Duffle bag over her shoulder, Kara mounted the horse. Russell helped Lena get up in front of Kara and then, ready to leave the farmhouse, Kara spurred the horse on into the fields.
Lena asked for a st
op a few hours into the ride to Blue Lagoon, and Kara found a spot to take a break. There were cars on the sides of the small road, the houses left to rot, but plenty of trees and foliage to get behind.
Kara sat on top of a car, looking around, having some water, when she saw Russell grappling with a raccoon he'd pulled out from under a truck, snapping its neck, and carrying it off to one of the dismal, crumbling homes. The sight of it didn't even bother her anymore.
She pulled her duffle bag closer to herself, having set it on the roof near her hip, and opened it to grab for some of the dried fruit. Popping a few handfuls into her mouth, Kara idly searched the clouds. She could hear a creek somewhere close by and the sound of Lena stomping around in it. When the girl came back to the road, appearing from within the brushes across from Kara, Kara saw Lena had wet her hair.
“Where is Russell?” Lena asked.
“Eating.”
“Are we going to get there in time, Kara?” Lena stood near the car, hands folded in front of her dress. She chewed on her bottom lip for a few moments. “Maybe they already passed us.”
“I don't know. We got a head start. They're all hiding somewhere in the dark right now though, and we'll get to Blue Lagoon before nightfall. If they got ahead, it wasn't by much, and we'll beat them there regardless.” Kara shrugged.
They waited for Russell to come back out of the house before heading off once more.
There was a nagging nervous energy building inside of Kara as Angel brought them closer and closer to Blue Lagoon. It had begun to dawn on her as they'd passed the remains of Pleasant Tree and Lena had begged to stop there. Kara wished that she'd chosen to go a different way.
Lena had wanted to see where they'd buried her father, so Kara had brought Angel over to the fort and allowed the girl to say a prayer for him at the pyres.
Lena didn't cry. Instead, she placed a dandelion onto the pile of ash and wood. Kara watched her take it out of her dress pocket.
Russell had stood there for a short time, the sun reflecting off of his visor, before stepping over to the open gate and looking inside. He placed a gloved hand on the inside of the gateway.
Kara studied him, hands in her pockets. She could feel the metallic angel pin. Her thumb moved over the smooth surface. It felt soothing, like a reminder of their destination, so close now, and a reminder of who would be waiting for them there. Again, she felt the tug of anxiety in her chest. It was too quiet, and a bad smell hung in the air, faint but ever present.
“We shouldn't linger here,” Russell stated.
Kara sighed. “It will only be a few more minutes. Let her say her prayers.”
“The dead can't hear you,” he mused. “And the living never listen.”
Kara blinked. “What?”
“Nothing. Just thinking about these walls, and how little they mattered.”
“The guards let one of them in,” Kara said. “His name was Frankie Reed. He was a Runner from Blue Lagoon. We all thought he was dead.”
“He was your friend.” He twisted around, pivoting on his booted heel. He tilted his head, expression unreadable, hidden behind the visor. “I'm sorry.”
She shook her head. “I'm more worried about his other friends back home, if he gets there before we do.”
He ushered her over with one hand and she left Lena to pray at the pyre. He was entering the fort. Kara, not wanting to leave Lena alone outside of the walls, turned to call for her but Russell stepped in close and signaled 'no'.
“We need to talk,” he whispered.
“Okay.” Kara frowned, brows furrowed. She fixed her bandanna, pushing her hair out of her face. Following Russell a few feet into the fort, she cut the distance between them and leaned in. “What is it?”
“They're here,” he said.
“What?” Kara felt her spine stiffen, her eyes wide.
“I didn't want to say anything in front of the girl. They're in the fort. Hiding in the houses. I can smell them,” he told her. “And they know we're here.”
“Russ.” Kara's eyes flew from shack to shack, from each little building to the large structure of the Mayor's house. She saw nothing but shadowy doorways and empty windows. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he answered.
“We need to go. Right now,” Kara said, and then spun away from him. She jogged over to where Lena was standing near the pyres and grabbed for the girl's arm. “Come on, baby. We gotta go.”
“Now?” Lena asked, expression concerned.
“Right now.” Kara nodded.
Up ahead in the center of the road, Kara saw what appeared to be a hovel built out of the remains of old cars and tarps, thrown together and welded into an ugly metal fort. The mark of the Red Brethren had been painted on the side. Russell got there first, stopping Kara with one hand held aloft. He waved them along, to pass the structure, and Kara saw that it had been abandoned. She saw the weapons on the ground inside and brought Angel around, the horse trotting over to the little barricade. Russell continued to wave her on.
“There's guns in there. We should take them!” Kara called out excitedly.
“There's guns at your fort, aren't there?” he asked.
“Doesn't hurt to have more,” she replied, sliding out of the saddle and landing on the broken concrete of the road. Lena remained, looking down at her, periodically surveying the area as Kara backed away toward the derelict Brethren fort. “It's okay, baby.”
“How far are we from Blue Lagoon?”
“A few hours. Maybe less,” she told him, entering the hovel. There were rifles and ammo left scattered on the floor on top of an ugly mat they'd thrown down to cover the hot asphalt. A single twin mattress sat in the corner, a sheathed machete left unattended on the sheets. Kara grinned, rushing to grab it, and felt the weight in her hand. “Only be a second, I swear.”
He muttered. “You were in a hurry earlier.”
“Still in a hurry, but it's always worth it to grab what you can when you can,” she said. “It's still day, isn't it? Sun's up. I think we're safe for a little while yet. The rest of your people don't cover up with turtlenecks and riding helmets like you do.”
Kara froze for a moment, regretting her choice of words. He didn't reply and she grunted, cursing silently to herself as she replaced the knife on her belt with the machete. Carrying her new weapon at her side, Kara rolled her shoulders, considering what to say next.
She happened upon a dark, poorly built card table in the other corner of the room, and while she was casually glancing at the papers there, she saw something that shocked her into running over to get a closer look. A picture of her, in grainy black and white film, standing beside a tree in a yard. There was another photo under it, another picture of her, and she was facing toward the camera.
Kara picked up the stacks of printed paper, confused as to what she was looking at, until she remembered the house, and the tree. The old woman. These images had been taken by a camera on the Red Brethren's rover vehicle. Some text in the corner of the first picture read 'video footage; 6:11 AM'.
Kara blinked. “Russ...”
“No, they don't. My people don't do that.”
“No, Russ. Get in here,” Kara called.
She glared at the open mouth of the little fort. He joined her a second later, stalking over with clenched fists, his shoulders forward and his posture strangely stiff. “What?”
“Look at these.” Kara showed him the pictures.
He took them with his gloved hands, lifting his visor. Out of the direct sunlight, it didn't seem to bother him as much, though he was squinting his bloodshot eyes, the huge pupils flitting over the images. He turned his attention to the table. “There's a bounty on you.”
“A bounty?”
“Looks like you made a few enemies. My guess is that they've got their men out there looking for you, Kara. These guys were camped here for several days, by the smell of the place. Seems they left in a hurry though. No struggle. I don't smell my people here, so it was
probably your fort folk that cleared them out.” Russell grunted, flipping over a few other papers on the table. He found a larger image of Kara, closer up but just as pixelated. “You told me about this, didn't you? The Brethren at the house. The ones killed by the Wailers, when you got away.”
“Yeah.” Kara paused, shaking her head. “Those ones. Damn. Didn't figure on the Brethren giving a shit about their own, y'know. “
“I guess they're capable of caring about one another. They want revenge on you for killing their kin.”
“I didn't kill them. I just left them for dead.”
“I see.” Russell closed his visor and set the papers back down. “You leave a wake a death behind you. Friend or foe, it doesn't seem to matter. It shouldn't bother you at all by now.”
“Excuse me?” Kara glared at the back of his jacket as he walked out. She charged out in hot pursuit, catching up to him as they both walked across the hot concrete road toward Angel.
He spoke flatly. “You do what you have to do, right?”
Lena sat there on the horse, staring down, worry etched into her face. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Russell told her.
“What do you mean by that, Russ?” Kara blocked his way before he could get any further from her. He pushed her aside, and it was like being bounced off the front of the Bella. Kara stumbled a little, catching her balance, and again rushed after him. “What the fuck do you mean by that?”
He stopped in his tracks, turning his head. Kara stared at the visor as he pivoted to face her. When he spoke, it was low and careful, his words spaced out between breaths. “Sorry. My people. We say crazy things. The fever. It rots the brain.”
“You know what you said. What did you mean?”
“Why are you asking me to explain myself?” he asked.
“If you're insinuating that I don't care about anyone, then you're wrong. You're so fucking wrong.” Kara's lips moved wordlessly and she clenched her jaw. She exhaled, hands at her sides, and shook her head. He stood there like a statue as Kara sighed, shoulders going lax. “I shouldn't have said 'your people', Russ. I wasn't thinking. We all fuck up, okay? I didn't mean it. You aren't like them, and you never were, never will be. I fucked up. I'm sorry.”