“Can I see?”
“I don’t know, Grady. That’s an invasion of privacy.”
“Says the lady who just admitted to flipping through it…”
“Finders keepers. I gain that right by law…probably. Plus, it wasn’t like I was doing it to be nosy. I was hoping I’d find some information about whose it was.”
“Uh-huh, sure… You’re full of fake rules today, aren’t you?”
She frowned, eyebrows coming together. “How’d you like it if some stranger went through your personal journal?”
I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her close, grinning. “Well, then the stranger better like erotic retellings of our more intimate nights.”
Ell fanned herself and put on a laughable Southern accent. “Oh my, Mr. Miller, you really know how to make a girl blush.”
I winked. “I do, don’t I?” My hand slid from her waist to her backside. “I’d like to make you blush tonight.”
No idea what that meant. Ell went with it, though.
“I bet you would.” She slapped my hand away. “But I’m tired, and you have to go to work in”—she checked her watch—“about forty-five minutes.”
“I only need twenty.”
“Minutes?”
“Seconds.”
“Aren’t I a lucky gal?”
“Hey,” I said, “that’s just a testament to how sexy you are.”
“There I go blushing again,” she said flatly. She definitely wasn’t blushing.
I watched as she stripped out of her scrubs and wrapped herself in a towel.
“Now you can’t go teasing me like that.”
“I can do whatever I want, Mr. Miller, and you can’t do anything about it. Now, I need to shower. Believe it or not, running around the hospital and stocking shelves works up a sweat, and I smell like a pair of sweaty gym socks.”
“Annnnnd there goes the mood.”
She winked. “I thought you were into feet?”
“Only on Sundays.”
Gagging, she left for the shower; I leaned back and sighed. I never thought I’d find a woman like Eleanor. I know it only took the end of the world for us to meet, but hey, I’ll take it. I mean, she was the peanut butter to my chocolate, the mayo to my ‘naise. I loved her more than I loved anyone.
The notebook sat on the nearby dresser. I had time to kill, so I figured why not. I was always looking for new reading material. The cover was weird; there were pictures of giant tentacled octopuses on it, entangled within each other and grinning with sharp fangs. It made me feel…a bit uncomfortable, I’ll admit, and I should’ve taken that as a sign not to crack it open. Some things are better left unknown.
But, like an idiot, I didn’t take that sign.
The first page was literally just scribbles of black ink, as if someone had held their pen like a knife and went to town. The paper was embossed with these violent strokes, tattoos more permanent than the ink. The second page was blank. The third and fourth had beautiful pencil drawings of a woman with soft features. There was a poem accompanying these pictures titled The Woman with Dark in Her Eyes and honestly, it made no sense to me. Then again, I wasn’t big on poetry. I liked a good story myself, but metaphors and flowery language were usually lost on my simple mind.
I didn’t exactly read this poem too critically. I scanned through it the same way I scanned through the rest of the pages, other poems included. Somewhere near the end I came upon another poem called The Matron. I didn’t understand this one either.
But the opening lines chilled me to the bone: The worm inside is never satisfied, never full.
And not until you crack the earth will you become whole.
I flipped to the last pages. Here was a wall of text. One word repeated over and over again, crammed together and written in shaky handwriting.
Enlightened Enlightened Enlightened Enlightened
There wasn’t so much as a sliver of white space between the words, save for the spots inside of the “g’s,” “e’s,” and “d’s.”
On the back was another wall of repeated words: The Matron The Matron The Matron
“What in the hell,” I said.
I closed the book. At the time, I understood none of it, but it left a bad taste in my mouth.
Things more or less returned to normal a few weeks later. We citizens tried our best to forget what happened, which wasn’t an easy task. Stone got better and out of the hospital and back to the barracks. He and I began our comic book club together. Even Mia joined in on a few of these meetings. She liked the Spider-Man stories in particular. My regular book club also continued, albeit with dwindling numbers. At the last meeting only Wendy, Scarlett, and I were in attendance. George had fallen into a slight depression, though he hid it well, and he skipped, citing his workload as the reason. No one bought it, but George wanted space, not a therapy session.
Chewy was also absent from this meeting. Ever since Stone had been shot, he’d taken to sticking closely by him. Stone liked it, for sure. They comforted each other.
We discussed The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t my favorite. Wendy and Scarlett, however, were gaga over it.
“I loved Gatsby,” Scarlett said. “I’d totally bang him.”
“Especially if he really looks like Leonardo DiCaprio,” Wendy giggled.
Leo apparently played Gatsby in a recent adaptation of the novel. I must’ve missed that one.
Rolling my eyes, I said, “Ladies, ladies, can we please stay on topic?”
They ignored me.
“On the subject of banging…” Scarlett continued, “I hear John Berretti has found a new woman.”
“That Credence gal?” Wendy asked. “I heard that too.”
If they only knew, I thought.
“Definitely not a secret,” Scarlett said. “They’re PDA-ing all over the place. I feel like I should be wearing a body-sized condom whenever I’m around them.”
I set my book down on the table and leaned back in my chair. Taking a handful of crackers, I prepared for the gossip. That was often how these meetings went, even when George was here. We talked about the story for a bit and then we talked about the juicy things going on in the City. I didn’t really mind it, especially this time when the book wasn’t one I was fond of. However, I would’ve enjoyed chatting about anyone other than Berretti. He wasn’t my favorite person, as you know.
“It’s just what he needs,” Wendy said sarcastically. “More distraction.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“He’s supposed to save us, isn’t he? That’s what Nick’s always pushing.”
“True,” Scarlett agreed.
“You ask me,” Wendy said, “he’s already given up.”
“So what does he do in his lab all day?” I asked.
Wendy shrugged, but Scarlett offered an answer. “He’s probably playing with himself. Well, was playing with himself. Now he’s got Credence for that.”
“Ew,” Wendy said. “He’s about twenty years older than her. The poor girl.”
“Yeah, imagine his wrinkly body wriggling on top of you,” Scarlett said.
“I’d rather not,” I said.
They both laughed, but as soon as laughter stopped, the conversation turned more serious. Their dislike for the man surprised me…but then again, Berretti was easy to dislike.
“If you ask me,” Wendy said, “John gave up a long time ago.”
Scarlett nodded. “That is, if he was ever really trying in the first place.”
I rarely saw John Berretti around the City. Don’t get me wrong, I liked that, but the times I did see him were never joyous occasions. One of these times occurred two days after the book club meeting.
Ell’s shift was ending, and I was on my way to walk her back to our barracks, like I did sometimes when I had the time. She often commented about how creepy the tunnels were, and I took that as a hint for me to give her some company.
Berretti, sti
ll dressed in his dingy white lab coat, burst through the hospital doors. The sudden noise caused me to stop dead in my tracks. A side effect of being on the road for so long, I guess. After all the run-ins with the wraiths and other forms of monsters, I would think the worst any time I heard something when it was supposed to be quiet.
The bright lights running along the tunnel ceiling illuminated the haggardness of Berretti’s face. His flesh was waxy, his eyes looked bruised, and his greasy hair lay flat on his head. Corpse-like would be an apt description, and even then, that might not have been doing his appearance justice. It seemed as if death was hanging over him like a storm cloud.
He stopped, brought his cupped hands to his mouth, and then tipped his head back. His throat tightened as he struggled to swallow.
Pills, but what kind? And what was wrong with him?
Judging by his appearance, a lot.
I waited a moment to see where he was heading. It wasn’t that I was afraid of him—far from that—but I found seeing him like this, in a moment of weakness, to be oddly sobering. In a weird way, I felt bad for the guy. Even after he’d locked me in a cage and had his pals beat on me. The pain in his face knocked him down a few pegs, made him seem human too—or at least something close to it. I could tell how he didn’t want anyone to see him this way. He looked around, up and down the hall, behind him, then up and down the hall again. He didn’t see me.
Ell came out a few minutes later.
Now, I believed she was my soulmate, despite us only knowing each other for a short time. I was also deeply in love with her—as I hoped she was with me. The trials and tribulations we went through together brought us closer than anything could have. So that short time felt like years. I guess time is also relative when it comes to the power of love.
Because of this, it was easy to tell when something was wrong with her. I don’t think anyone else—aside from maybe Mikey and her parents, all three of which are deceased—could’ve caught that vibe from her.
She was all smiles. Bouncy. Talkative. You would’ve thought she had just won the lottery. Her tell lay in the eyes. She squints slightly, just the smallest amount, when she’s upset, as if to stop herself from crying, and she was doing it then. It wasn’t hard to guess who had been the cause of this problem after seeing Berretti leave the area.
“It was Berretti, wasn’t it?” I said, looking at her with serious eyes.
She glanced back and quickly looked away. “What?”
“Ell, c’mon. I know you. You’re upset.”
“I’m not upset—”
Berretti’s face swam up into my mind. A building anger shortly followed. I clenched my teeth before saying, “What did he do to you, Ell? If he so much as laid a finger on you, I’ll kill him—”
“Calm down, Grady.”
We had stopped walking and were standing in front of a mural of a garden. The pictures were the last thing on my mind at the time, though. My rising rage had plateaued, but that didn’t mean it was apt to stay that way. I pushed Eleanor for more information about what happened. For the most part, she remained coy.
“Nothing,” she said, leaning against an oddly proportioned sunflower. “He was just…mean, that’s all. You know, not grateful, rude, all of the above, yada-yada-yada.”
I did know, but I wanted to know more. “What were those pills he took?”
Eleanor ran a finger across her lips and made the sound of a zipper. “Doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“Even for him? After all that I told you he put me through?”
She chuckled. It was without humor, kind of sad-sounding. “I’m messing with you. He said he had a headache, and that he wanted to catch it before it exploded into a migraine and knocked him on his butt for a couple days. I just gave him a few Advil.”
Rider and the other bigwigs didn’t allow us to keep medicine. It was all brought in by the Scavs, who left it in the care of Doc Hart and the others working at the hospital.
“Ell…” I said, “you saw the guy. He looks like walking death.”
She shrugged. “That’s all I know about it. If you wanna know more, you should ask Sharon. She handles the serious cases. I mean, I’m not even technically a nurse. I never passed my test.”
“You never had the chance to take your test. You would’ve passed with flying colors if you had.” I waved a hand. “That’s not the point. And I can’t ask Sharon. I barely know her, and I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“She likes you, she’s just shy.” Ell pushed off the wall, started walking again. I followed. “Better yet, ask Berretti himself.” That was something I certainly wasn’t going to do, and Ell knew it.
As we headed back to the barracks, I remember thinking whatever was wrong with Berretti was much more than a migraine.
As it turned out, I was right. For once. But I wouldn’t know this until it was too late.
5
The Mission
I heard low voices in the hallway. Whispering. I was on my way to the watchtower, bundled up in my heavy coat, hat, and a leather pair of gloves. I turned the corner and nearly jumped into George. Stopping short, I said, “Whoops, sorry.”
Nick was standing next to George. He looked to have lost twenty pounds since the attack. Still, he smiled a mischievous smile.
“There’s our guy.”
“What’s that mean?” I asked.
“We have something we want to ask you,” George said. I already knew what it was. “We’re planning a supply run. We need more gas ASAP, and after we lost…well, the Scavs aren’t as strong as we once were. We’d love to have you on board, Grady.”
I took a step back, chewed my bottom lip. They both sensed my apprehension, no doubt. Anyone with half a brain knew that going outside was the closest thing to a death sentence.
“Grady,” George said, “you’re one of the best we have here. I know we don’t know each other too well, but I’d trust you with my life.”
My eyes widened. That was quite a compliment. The decision, in reality, wasn’t difficult. Being a firefighter in my past life had prepared me for at least some danger. Maybe not this much danger, but danger nonetheless. And I knew that without fuel, everyone I cared about, everything we had worked for to get here, all the pain, the suffering, the loss—it would be for nothing. So if it was up to me, I would’ve said yes on the spot. Unfortunately, I couldn’t. My decisions were no longer solely my own. Ell and I were in love. It wouldn’t be fair to her if I up and left without discussion.
“I know,” Nick said, “you’re gonna have to talk about it with your lady. I get it. But this is important, Grady. Make sure she understands.”
What he didn’t say was how our lives and our future depended on the success of this supply run. His eyes, however, conveyed that notion.
I nodded. “I’ll talk with her.”
“Talk with who?” a voice said from behind. All three of us turned toward the newest arrival. Standing there was Ell. She had a thermos, my thermos. I’d forgotten it, and she knew I was lost without my nightly coffee.
“Speak of the devil,” George mumbled. He slouched a bit, stepping behind Nick.
“No,” Eleanor said.
“No?” I repeated, confused. “What do you mean?”
“I know what you three are doing, colluding in the shadows.”
I arched an eyebrow. How she knew, I had no idea.
“You don’t need to be Sherlock Holmes,” she said.
“It’s not what you think,” Nick replied.
“And what is it that I think?”
Nick opened his mouth, about to speak, and then thought better about it.
Good choice, I thought.
“You want Grady to join the Scavengers or whatever you call it. Am I right?”
George nodded. “We do.”
“We need fuel,” Nick said. “We need it bad, Eleanor.”
“A man with Grady’s gumption can help us so much,” George added.
Ell pursed
her lips and folded her arms over her chest. The thermos was still in her hands. Hesitantly, I took it and sipped, wishing it was spiked with something strong.
“And we’re not going anywhere foreign,” George continued. “We’re heading toward a little place only about fifteen miles away.”
“Another City?” I asked, intrigued.
“Not quite,” Nick answered. “It’s just a group of fellas we’ve been in contact with since we got the radios working again. We’ve already arranged it with them. They’re good people, Eleanor. We can trust them.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about,” Ell said.
Nick nodded. “I know, I know. Will it help persuade you if I say there’s safety in numbers, even out there?” My eyes ping-ponged between them. “No, didn’t think so,” he said.
“Well, you’re right,” Ell said, “there is safety in numbers…” She looked my way; there was an odd sort of determination on her face. “Which is why you aren’t going without me.”
“What?” I said. “Ell, don’t be—”
“Crazy? I’m not. You are, for wanting to go on this ridiculous suicide mission. But if you’re gonna be crazy, I’ll be crazy with you.”
George leaned against the wall. He let out a deep breath and flashed a half-smile. “Hey, you know what they say. The more, the merrier.”
“Ell, is that really a good idea?” Nick asked.
“No, probably not, but I can hold my own.” I opened my mouth; Ell shushed me. “Zip it, Grady.”
I clamped my lips together, ran a finger along them, and made the sound of a zipper closing.
“It’s settled, then. We’ll head out in one week,” George said. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. “Whew, that went smoother than anticipated, didn’t it, Nicky?”
“I guess it did. I don’t know how I feel about putting you both in danger, but George runs a tight ship. We’ve had more incidents here than out there. Last time I tagged along with them, it was almost like a little vacation.”
“You enjoyed negative thousand-degree weather and complete darkness?” George asked, frowning. “You’re crazier than I thought, old man.”
Whiteout (Book 5): The Feeding Page 9