by Kate L. Mary
I brace myself when he brings his arm back. Walker swings his arm forward and releases the frog, letting it fly. The statue slams into the door, and the silence is shattered by the sound of breaking glass. The shards rain down on the deck, catching the light on their way and sparkling in the sun.
Once most of the glass is gone, he uses the toe of his boot to kick away the slivers still sticking out of the doorframe. Then he pulls a shirt out of his backpack and wraps it around his hand to knock out the higher ones. Once that’s done, he puts his shoulder into the fridge and pushes, grunting as he moves it forward. I rush over to help, putting all my weight into it, but it only scoots a tiny bit. I’m pretty sure there’s other stuff piled up in front of it, because it takes both of us straining to get it to move a few inches. Sweat trickles down my back and Walker’s face is bright red, but we work together until there’s enough space for me to squeeze through.
“It’s a good thing I’m skinny,” I say, pulling off my pack. “I’ll go in and move whatever’s blocking the door so you guys can get inside.”
I move for the opening, but Walker grabs my arm to stop me before I can duck inside. “Be careful, Eva. Keep your knife handy just in case.”
I swallow but nod. He’s right. I want Lilly to be the one who blocked this door and has been living in the house, but it could be someone else. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
I press my body through the opening, squeezing my way in. It’s such a tight space that there’s no way the guys would fit through. Not even Ben, who’s a toothpick. As it is, my breasts press against the wall and it hurts like hell. I grit my teeth and suck in a deep breath, trying to make myself smaller.
Finally, I make it through and stumble into the house, sucking in a mouthful of air. The house is stifling, and the air is stale and thick. It’s even more humid in here than it is outside. But it smells pretty clean. Not too dusty or dirty. No rotten food or other disgusting smells. It’s silent, though.
Just like I thought, the couch is up against the fridge. I shove that aside, then get to work pulling the huge appliance forward. Walker pushes from the other side, and within seconds, the guys are in. Ben immediately throws himself on the couch.
“Anyone here?” Walker tosses my pack on the floor, then drops his next to it.
“Not sure yet. It’s quiet, but the place seems lived in.” I shrug as I turn and head into the kitchen.
Canned food lines the granite countertop, along with a couple plastic jugs filled with water. The kind you used to buy milk in. A camp stove sits on the island with a giant pot on top of it.
Walker comes in behind me and picks up a hose with a funnel attached to it. “Looks like someone was boiling water.”
“Yeah.” I chew on the inside of my cheek. It’s a good sign. “Someone has definitely been here. But the house feels empty. Where are they?”
Walker shrugs as he looks around, taking in the surroundings. Probably looking for clues. I want to search the rest of the house. There has to be something that will tell me if this was Lilly.
I head out of the kitchen, toward the living room. “Let’s check the upstairs.”
Walker follows me, but Ben stays on the couch. His eyes are closed, and I’m pretty sure he’s asleep. It doesn’t matter if he comes anyway. He seems more like a shadow than a person most of the time. He’s present, but silent.
The living room is dark and now that we’re inside, I can see that a huge china cabinet was moved to block the bay window. The plates and champagne glasses that used to sit in it have been removed but stacked neatly on the floor. It seems like the act of someone who cared about this house and the people who used to live here. Not something a stranger would do.
Lilly…
I hurry to the stairs, and Walker is right behind me. The steps creak under our feet like they’re protesting being used after all this time. My heart is pounding, and I hold my breath, straining to hear a sound. Anything that might indicate there is actually a person hiding in the house. There’s nothing, though.
Upstairs it isn’t as stuffy, although still hot, and we find the windows in the first bedroom open, as well as in the second. We go from room to room, and it’s more of the same. Open windows and empty rooms. The master has been recently used, though. The French doors that lead to the balcony are wide open, and outside, a rope has been hung and clothes are draped over it, flapping in the breeze. There are also a couple big buckets that must have been left out to catch rainwater. That must be what she’s been boiling to drink.
The bed is unmade.
“She’s been here,” I say, stopping next to the bed and running my hand over the comforter.
“Someone has.” Walker eyes the bed like he isn’t sure what to do with it.
“Lilly has.”
He takes his hat off and scratches his head, then looks around. He seems as unsure as I feel. “What do you think?”
“We stay,” I say firmly. “Wait. Maybe she went out for supplies and she’ll be right back. I can’t leave yet, Walker. The house hasn’t been empty long or it would smell mustier. The clothes would have fallen from the line or the buckets would have blown over. She’s been here, and recently.”
Walker steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders. It’s soothing. “Okay,” he says. “Calm down. We’ll stay. We’ll wait for her.”
“Thank you,” I say, leaning my head against his chest and letting all the air out of my lungs.
She’ll be back. I know she will.
24
My body itches from the inside out like something buried deep inside me is trying to escape. I know what it is. It’s the animal in me. The one who traveled alone for months and hid from other people, the one who skinned creepers and who had no hope left inside. The one who cut notches in her arms like she didn’t deserve to be whole. It’s the person I’ve been trying to suppress since I met Walker and Tara. Only it doesn’t want to stay hidden anymore. Not now that I’ve traveled hundreds of miles across the country only to find out Lilly isn’t here and my childhood home is gone and everything is just as horrible as I always thought it was.
I stand in the middle of the master bedroom, staring at the beige carpet. There are little specks of color in the fibers. The manufacturer probably did it to help mask any spots that might show up, but it just ends up making the entire room look dirty. I have the almost uncontrollable urge to get out a rag and scrub it.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Walker appear in the doorway. He leans against the frame and crosses his arms, his gaze taking me in slowly like he’s trying to read my mind. “What are you doing?”
I shrug, still focusing on the carpet. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”
“You can’t give up.”
“It’s been two days, Walker.” I let out a deep breath, then slowly suck air back into my lungs. My legs wobble, and it takes me a second to control it. “I was too late.”
Walker pushes himself off the wall and crosses the room toward me, but I duck out of the way and head for the door. I don’t deserve his comfort.
“Eva!”
I ignore him and head down the hall to Dixie’s room, which I’ve been avoiding since we got to the house. I can’t stay away any longer, but the closer I get, the more I scratch at the scabbed cut on my arm. It’s healed too much though, and I can’t make it bleed. I’ve been fighting the urge to slice my skin all day long, and right now I feel like I’m fighting a losing battle.
Dixie’s room is dark, so I pull the curtains back to let the sunlight in. Puffs of dust fly up and swirl around, and for some reason, an image of Tinker Bell pops into my head. Like she’s sprinkling me with pixie dust.
From this room I have a good view of the street, and just like a handful other times over the last few days, I get the feeling someone is watching me. None of the other houses show any signs of life, though. No worn-down grass or open windows. This neighborhood is like a graveyard, and it makes me want to run and hide. I’m ti
red of seeing nothing but emptiness, of having nothing inside me but regret and pain.
Footsteps enter the room behind me. “Eva…”
“I failed her, Walker.”
I don’t turn away from the window. Not even when he stops behind me. His hands rest on my shoulders, and my insides jerk. I’m torn between the desire to push him away and the urge to curl up against him. The desire to let him comfort me and to allow the old me out war against each other. I can feel the angry, feral person who’s barely human anymore trying to claw its way to the surface, and it scares the shit out of me.
Walker doesn’t give me a choice. He pulls me against him, and when my back touches his chest, my bottom lip quivers. I lean my head back and he wraps his arms around me.
He presses his lips to the top of my head. “We aren’t leaving yet,” he says against my hair.
I exhale and work on relaxing my body. The tension in my shoulders eases and I close my eyes. Walker turns me around, and I lift my face toward his without even opening my eyes. His mouth covers mine, and I instantly feel stronger. Like I can tackle anything. Years ago, when feminism was still a thing, I’m sure women would have hated me for admitting that. Hell, I probably would have been one of them. But now, I don’t care. The feeling has nothing to do with Walker being a man and me being a woman. It has nothing to do with the fact that I’m attracted to him or how alive he makes my body feel. All it means is that I’m not alone anymore, and I’m not afraid to admit I need people in my life.
Walker’s kisses are gentle and brief, and when he pulls away, I rest my head on his shoulder. His hand moves up and down my spine, causing goose bumps to prickle across my skin. It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in a long time.
Suddenly, Walker stiffens and his hands fall away. “What the hell…”
I jerk back and turn to the window just as a figure disappears behind a neighboring house. It was small and blonde, and seeing it makes every muscle in my body tighten all over again.
“What was that?” I ask, my heart pounding so loudly I’m not sure I’ll be able to hear his answer.
Walker turns and runs for the door, calling over his shoulder, “A girl.”
I take off after him.
It’s Lilly! It has to be. All those times I felt like I was being watched, maybe I was. Maybe I was right all along and she’s been here, keeping an eye on the house. She has no idea it’s me and that I came to save her.
“Lilly…” I say, but it’s more of a sob than an actual word.
Walker and I charge down the stairs, our footsteps pounding through the silent house. We run into the living room, and Ben jumps up from the couch. Neither one of us slows.
“What’s going on?” the kid asks, sounding more animated than I’ve ever heard him.
When Walker reaches the door, we finally have to stop. He fumbles with the deadbolt while I shuffle my feet behind him. I have the urge to yell at him to hurry up or to shove him out of the way, and I have to I bite down on my bottom lip to stop myself. Even though it feels torturously slow to me, he’s working as fast as he can.
He finally pulls the door open. I shove him aside and rush out into the hot Georgia afternoon. I bolt across the yard. Toward the house I saw Lilly go behind. Walker is right on my heels. His footsteps pounding on the ground behind me like the beat of a drum.
We reach the house, and luckily, there’s no fence. I shoot toward the backyard, but it’s empty. The house next door does have a fence, only there’s a huge hole in it, so I head that way, squeezing myself through the small opening. There’s a beaten path through the tall grass that cuts through to the back of the yard. As if someone or something just ran through. I follow it without pausing. All the while, my heart beats in a pattern that sounds like my sister’s name over and over again.
The yard isn’t big, but I have to dodge a huge wooden swing set and an elaborate stone bar and grill. The pergola that used to be over the patio area has fallen, knocking down part of the fence. The trail leads that way. Right through the hole.
I jump over the fallen beams and charge across the wooden planks spread out across the ground. The boards bow under my weight, but I don’t pause long enough for them to break. I make it to the other side, and Walker’s footsteps pound across the boards behind me as I move, following the trail toward the woods. Somewhere in the distance, I can hear what might be footsteps. Fast. Running. I move my legs quicker and strain my ears. The crunching of leaves and sticks in unmistakable.
I can’t hold back any longer. “Lilly!” I scream, forcing my legs to move faster. “Lilly!”
The footsteps stop just as I dive through the bushes and into the forest. It’s dark. The leaves above us have blocked out the sun, and now that I’m out of the grass, there’s no more trail to follow. I come to a stop, listening for something that will tell me which way she went. There’s nothing but the sound of nature.
My body shakes at the realization that it might not be her. She hasn’t answered me. If it was Lilly, wouldn’t she have responded by now?
Walker runs up behind me, stopping at my side. He’s panting. “Anything?”
I shake my head, but I can’t talk. My bottom lip trembles. I sink my teeth into it and take a few deep breaths in through my nose, forcing my pounding heart to slow.
Then I take a step forward. “Lilly?”
There’s movement to my right, and I spin on my heels to face it. I can just make out a figure, half-hidden by a tree.
“Lilly?” I say, moving toward it. “It’s Eva. Lilly!”
I stumble over sticks and shove my way past bushes. My legs tremble, getting worse with each step I take. The person steps out, then moves toward me. My vision is blurred by tears, making it impossible to focus. I blink them away, and Lilly’s big, blue eyes meet mine.
“Lilly!” I cry, moving myself forward, covering the last six feet of space between us.
Lilly’s shoulders are shaking when I grab them. I pull her against me and wrap my arms around her, and she hugs me back. Tangling her hands in my shirt as her tiny form trembles.
“Eva,” she says, putting her whole weight into me.
It isn’t much, but it’s enough to knock me down. I don’t care. I don’t feel a thing when I hit the forest floor, and I don’t even try to get up. I pull Lilly onto my lap like she’s four years old, not twelve. She feels smaller than I remember her being. Thin and bony. Delicate.
How did she survive all this time by herself?
We cry together. Lilly on my lap with her face pressed up against my chest. Her sobs shake her whole body and her tears soak my shirt while my own tears fall on her head. Right on her blonde hair that looks exactly the way I remember it being when we were little. Long and silky smooth. Not dirty and ratty the way it was in the camp.
It makes me wonder what she looks like. Has she fared as well as her blonde locks?
I finally pull back and move her face up to mine. She looks up, and her bottom lip trembles, accentuating the jagged scar that cuts across her right cheek. It’s over two inches long and starts at the corner of her mouth. Even in the darkness of the woods, it stands out.
“What happened to you, baby?” I say, running my thumb over the scar.
Lilly wipes her arm across her face. “I was hurt. When the soldiers came into the camp, they blew up the creepers’ ships. I was on one of them.” Lilly runs her fingertips along the scar. “There was so much blood.”
My heart threatens to implode as tears fill my eyes, and I pull Lilly against me. Sobbing all over again. Thinking of my baby sister, trapped and hurt. Alone. Probably terrified. Thinking I left her.
“I’m sorry,” I say, rocking her like a baby. “I’m so sorry. I waited for two days. I looked everywhere. I didn’t know where you were.”
The sobs take over, and I can’t talk. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but rock my sister and curse myself and wish I had the last year back so I could change things. Find her. Tear down every inch of that camp u
ntil she was in my arms and safe and taken care of.
“I thought you were dead,” I finally manage to get out. “Until the other day, I thought you were gone.”
Lilly pulls away. She kisses my cheek and wipes away the tears. “You’re here. I’m so glad you’re here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, but here you are.”
Lilly gives me a shaky smile, but I can’t return it. I can’t forgive myself yet. I walked away from her when she was hurt, and she very well could have died. Because of me.
Leaves crunch behind me, and Lilly looks up. Her eyes get big, and she looks back at me. “Who’s that?”
I look over my shoulder to where Walker is standing. He has his hat pulled down, and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
“My friend,” I say, turning back to Lilly. “Walker. He traveled with me after we saw your message. All the way from Atlanta.”
Lilly smiles up at Walker, and the sight of that gorgeous grin makes my heart quiver in a strange way.
“It’s nice to meet you, Walker.” She pulls herself up, then grabs my hand and forces me to my feet. “Thank you for bringing my sister to me.”
Walker clears his throat. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
His voice is thick with emotion, and if I hadn’t already accepted how attracted to him I was, I would have to now. I love that he cares about things this much. That he isn’t afraid to feel and let others know how he feels. He may pull that hat down to hide his eyes, but he’s never tried to really hide from me. Not once.
I take Lilly’s hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “We should head back to the house. Ben is probably wondering what happened to us.”
“Who’s Ben?” Lilly asks as the three of us walk out of the forest.
I squint under the bright sun. Lilly’s hand is still in mine, and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to let her go. “A kid we picked up along the way. He’s different, but nice. Quiet.”
“I can’t wait to meet him,” Lilly says, smiling.