Commodity

by Shay Savage

  Despite Beck’s complaining, we move what we have back to the apartment complex before midday. Caesar and Ryan opt to share the apartment below Falk’s while Beck takes the one across from them on the ground floor. The lanterns and some of the other necessities are distributed, and the brothers head off to look for more supplies. There’s discussion about what to do with all the bodies in the nearby area, and Ryan offers to start digging graves.

  Falk insists I stay with him in his apartment. I debate arguing with him about it—there are plenty of other apartments, and I’m used to having my own space—but one look from him, and I realize it will be pointless. I have to admit, I do feel safer with him close to me.

  “I can’t properly watch out for you if you are in your own place,” he says. “You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m going to start teaching you to shoot, too.”

  “I’m still not so sure about that.” I start taking supplies from a backpack and look for a place in the kitchen to store them.

  “You’re going to learn anyway.” Falk brings another backpack over and places it near my feet. “Once we have everything set up here, we’ll start your training.”

  “You are very bossy, you know.” I put my hands on my hips and tilt my head to look up at him.

  “I have to be,” he says simply. “That’s the only way I can protect you. I need to know where you are at all times. I also need to know that you can protect yourself if I’m not there.”

  His shoulders are straight and his expression tells me that he’s not going to change his mind. I shake my head and go back to organizing.

  There’s definitely a part of me that appreciates his take-charge attitude. If he weren’t here, I have no idea what I would do. I wouldn’t know what sort of items we’d need to survive or what type of environment would offer us the best chances. I’d be without direction and probably scared out of my mind.

  Given that, maybe I can put up with his bossiness.

  For now, at least.

  Once we have everything stored, we go outside and assist Caesar in building a large fire pit. He and Ryan have already gathered a good number of stones to surround it while Beck digs a large, round depression.

  “It will be a good place to cook once the gas runs out,” Caesar says. “It’ll be easier to cook out here anyway as long as the weather is good. We should find a suitable place to keep communal property.”

  “There’s a shed nearby,” Falk says. “I think the landlord keeps lawn equipment in it, but it would be a good place to store kindling to keep it dry. It’s big enough for other stuff, too.”

  “Good idea,” Caesar says. “Let’s check it out.”

  The shed is full of lawnmowers, leaf-blowers, shovels and other landscaping items. Ryan moves them out to the parking lot so we can make room for the things we’ll need close to us. Falk heads off to find more stones to line the pit, promising me he wouldn’t be far away. I decide to busy myself collecting all the nearby sticks to start a kindling pile in the shed. I don’t think my leg is up for any heavy lifting.

  There are plenty of small branches lying around, and I break them over my knee so they’re more uniform and will stack well. I’m on my third stack when a voice startles me.

  I glance over my shoulder and breathe slowly to calm my heart.

  “Making yourself useful?” Beck is right behind me, causing me to jump.

  “Just doing what I can.”

  “Uh huh.” Beck leans against the trunk of a tree and watches me.

  “Did you need something?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything else.

  “You aren’t really with that asshole, are ya?”

  “Falk?” I don’t have to ask, but I do anyway. It’s obvious who he means.

  “Yeah. Falk.” Beck sneers the name and rolls his eyes. “The asshole who thinks he owns you.”

  I press my lips together and stand up, looking straight at him. I tense my fingers around the branch in my hand.

  “He’s just trying to keep everyone safe.”

  “He’s on a power trip.”

  I watch Beck’s face carefully. This isn’t a topic I care to debate with him—his mind is set, and I’m not going to speak against Falk, not at this point.

  “So are you with him or not?” Beck asks when I don’t take the bait.

  “He’s my bodyguard,” I say softly.

  “Bodyguard?” Beck looks at me quizzically, pushes away from the tree, and moves a little closer. “Now, what would you need a bodyguard for?”

  Shit. I shouldn’t have said anything about it. This is likely why Falk didn’t want me talking to anyone. Talking leads to questions—questions I don’t want to answer. I should have kept my mouth shut.

  “I don’t,” I say quickly. “He’s not, not really. Um…he’s just a friend. He likes to watch out for me.”

  I sound ridiculous, and I know the lie is completely transparent even as the words leave my mouth. I can tell by Beck’s expression that he doesn’t believe a word of it.

  “You’re full of shit,” Beck says with a chuckle. He steps up in front of me and places his hand on my hip as he leans in close. “Now why are you lying to me?”

  I freeze, my skin crawling at his touch. I can’t move and I can’t breathe. He places his other hand on the other side of my body, pulling me against him. I can feel each of his fingers as he splays them out on my side, pressing his fingertips into my flesh.

  “I’m glad to hear he’s just a friend though. Maybe you should think about expanding your other relationships.”

  “I’m fine.” My voice is barely audible. “Really, I am.”

  I try to take a step back, but he keeps his grip. I turn my head away, feeling the tension running down from my neck and pooling in my feet, immobilizing me.

  “You don’t have to run away from me,” Beck whispers as he presses his mouth into my hair near my ear. “I just want you to know—”

  “Get your fucking hands off of her!”

  Falk is between us before I even realize it’s him. He shoves Beck backward, nearly causing him to fall.

  “What the hell is your problem?” Beck screams at him. His hands come up in front of him, balled into fists.

  “You are my problem. Pretty soon, I’m going to be your problem, you pissy little beta. Now don’t fucking touch her again, or I will smack your cock-holster closed.”

  Jesus Christ.

  “Falk, it’s okay.” I touch the back of his shirt, but he shrugs me off.

  “It is not fucking okay!” he yells as he turns to me.

  “You need to watch yourself,” Beck says with a sneer. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but I’m not putting up with your shit, and she doesn’t have to either!”

  Caesar appears between them, putting a hand on each man’s chest and holding them apart.

  “Cool it, you two,” he says. “Come on, now. We’re all on edge. Let’s just go back to our corners, okay?”

  “I didn’t fucking start it,” Beck says.

  “You fucking started it when you touched her.” Falk steps forward, and Caesar pushes back.

  “That’s enough.” Caesar stares at Falk, but addresses Beck. “Beck, go on, get out of here.”

  “This ain’t over, motherfucker.” Beck points his finger at Falk before stalking off toward his own apartment.

  Caesar drops his hand but keeps his eyes on Falk, who watches Beck’s back until he is out of sight. Once Beck is gone, Falk focuses on me.

  “You all right?”

  “I’m fine.” My voice isn’t convincing, even to me.

  Falk narrows his eyes, pushes Caesar’s hand away from his chest and walks to me. He reaches out slowly and traces a finger over my arm.

  “Are you?” he asks again, softly.

  “I will be.”

  He nods and holds his arm out in the direction of the apartment.

  “Let me put these in the shed first,” I say, picking up the branches.

  Fal
k helps me break the last one up as we walk to the shed.

  “You understand now why I don’t want you talking to them?”

  “It’s not that simple,” I reply. “I can’t just ignore it when someone asks me a question.”

  “You can ignore him. Actually, if he comes near you again, just yell for me.”

  I roll my eyes. I’ve had enough conflict for one day, but I can’t let Falk dictate my every action. The idea of pretending Beck doesn’t exist isn’t pragmatic even if it is attractive. My heart is still pounding, and though he’s gone, I can somehow feel his hands on my waist, making my skin crawl. I let Falk direct me back to the apartment, and once we’re there, I turn to him.

  “That really wasn’t necessary.”

  “Wasn’t it?”

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Are you going to tell me that look on your face wasn’t you remembering what happened to you? You think I don’t notice when you’re thinking about it? He had his fucking hands on you, and you were about to go into a panic attack.”

  I halt and stare at him. I hadn’t realized how transparent I was.

  I also don’t understand my own reaction. When I was actually being attacked, I had fought. Beck hadn’t attacked me—he had only touched me. Why am I freezing up now?

  “How did you know?” I ask.

  “It’s my job to know,” he says softly. “It’s my job to be observant, to know everything that’s going on around me. You are my focus. I rarely miss anything.”

  I chew on my lip, thinking. I’m still not sure I buy into the whole idea of aliens from outer space, but I’m not sure if that matters. Something catastrophic happened, and at least for now, we are on our own.

  What does that mean exactly?

  There’s no government. No police or legal system. We are essentially in anarchy. Survival of the fittest has reverted to survival of the strong—those who can protect and provide. We have plenty of supplies for now, but what will happen when we start to run out?

  I shudder. I think about Beck, Caesar, and Ryan. Sure, they seem okay—even Beck hadn’t really done anything wrong—but what happens as time goes by, and I’m still the only woman in the group? When Hudson attacked me, I’d been able to get away and find help. If men like Hudson prospered in a world of laws, what would they do now? There is no place for me to run—no help on the horizon.

  Except Falk.

  Falk wants to keep me safe. Falk not only wants to protect me, he’s capable.

  I glance to the bedroom door. The distance between there and the couch in the living room isn’t more than a dozen feet, but it suddenly looks like a great chasm to me. Someone could come through the window of the bedroom. If I was silenced, Falk might not even know anyone was there.

  I shudder.

  “Falk?”

  “Yeah?”

  “It would be all right if…I mean…”

  “What?”

  I take a deep breath. I both feel and sound like a fool. Best to just spit it out.

  “You don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  “I’m not leaving you out here and close to the door,” he says with his arms crossed over his chest. “Not a chance.”

  “I was going to say…” I sigh loudly, place one hand over my face, and just say it. “You could sleep in the bed, too.”

  Falk stares at me with those intense eyes. I imagine he’s watching me and waiting to see if my body language matches my words.

  “You sure?” he finally says.

  “I think I’d feel safer that way.” Saying the words out loud relaxes me slightly.

  “All right.”

  I nod silently before excusing myself to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. I have no idea if I’m making a good decision or not, but it feels right to me. Having Falk close calms me, and I need a little calm right now. Everything else around me is insane.

  I climb into bed and lay my head against the pillow. A few minutes later, Falk comes in and stares at me for a minute.

  “You sure you’re good with this?”

  “You were sleeping right next to me last night,” I say with a shrug. “This isn’t all that different.”

  Falk nods and climbs into bed beside me. He shuffles around a bit to get comfortable, then switches from his back to his side, facing me.

  “I wouldn’t take advantage of you,” he says abruptly.

  “I know you wouldn’t.”

  “Good. I just wanted to make sure.”

  My mind immediately begins to wander. I remember the view of Falk wearing nothing but a towel, dripping from his shower, and my skin tingles. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat from his body through the sheet. I try to keep my breathing even, but I keep thinking about his arm wrapped around me last night, and I wonder what it would feel like to have his hands all over me.

  I haven’t had thoughts like this since the day I was assaulted. None. The therapist in the hospital went on and on about how I shouldn’t think of the attack as sexual, but that didn’t mean I had any interest in having another man touch me ever again.

  Until now.

  They hurt me. They battered and assaulted me. They held me down while I screamed, and they threatened to kill me. I had nightmares for weeks afterward. I couldn’t walk outside by myself without looking over my shoulder.

  “You’ve got that look on your face,” Falk says.

  “What look?” I ask, startled.

  “The same look you had right before you broke down on me.”

  I reach up and quickly wipe away the tear that had escaped when I was lost in thought. I take a deep breath and center myself.

  “I’m trying not to.”

  “He really did get to you, didn’t he?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  “Fucker,” Falk snarled.

  “It’s not that he did anything that’s so bad,” I say. “It just…makes me think about everything else.”

  I bite at my lip to keep the memories from resurfacing, but it doesn’t help. They’re all flooding back anyway.

  “You going to tell me what happened?” Falk asks quietly.

  I swallow hard past the lump that suddenly lodges in my throat. It’s already in my head now, so maybe I should tell him. If this catastrophe hadn’t happened, I’d be in Washington, D.C. right now, telling it over and over again as people questioned me.

  “I’ve relived it so many times,” I whisper. “I don’t know.”

  “You were going to tell it to a bunch of strangers,” he reminds me. “I’m not a stranger anymore, am I?”

  I’m starting to wonder if he can actually read my mind.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “That’s good to know.” Falk props himself up on one elbow and looks at me.

  “All right, I’ll tell you. I’m a shitty storyteller though.”

  “I won’t hold it against you.”

  I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling, trying to compose my thoughts before I begin.

  “It started with an accounting report,” I say. “The woman who usually investigated discrepancies was out of the office. I’d been on a project a few months before, working on the programming for that system, and one of the other accountants I’d worked with asked me to look at it. I followed the data through the system and found this holding company.”

  “Baby Blue, Limited.”

  “Yes, that one. I kept seeing all these small amounts—much smaller than the one I was investigating being funneled to this holding company. It looked odd, so I searched for Baby Blue on Google but couldn’t find anything. That was weird, too, so I asked a friend of mine to check into it and see what he could find.”

  “Daniel McIntyre. The hacker.”

  “We were in school together,” I say with a nod. “We took a lot of the same computer classes, but he was a lot better than me. He could find anything anywhere—get into any system he wanted. I didn’t know he would end up…”

  “He was killed in a car
accident.”

  “He was run off the road. It wasn’t an accident.”

  “I realize.”

  “He linked Baby Blue to a bunch of porn sites. Porn sites with underage girls being raped.”

  I take a deep breath.

  “He sent me a picture from one of them,” I tell Falk. “He sent it because he thought one of the girls looked like me.”

  “Your sister.”

  “Yes.” I swallow again, tears welling in my eyes. “Her body was found with the others in that compound in Nevada. It brought us some closure, at least. It’s the only good thing that came out of it all. At least we know what happened to her.”

  “That paper you talked about writing in college,” Falk says, “was about your own family.”

  I nod, and Falk reaches over and lays his hand on top of mine where it lies on my stomach. He grips my hand for a moment and then relaxes.

  “I turned it all over to the police,” I tell him. “All the evidence Daniel and I found. Their investigators linked it back to Tyler Hudson through some offshore accounts. A week after Hudson was arrested, Daniel was dead.”

  “The arraignment was the day before, but he was let out on bond.”

  “Yes.”

  “You were attacked the following week.”

  “Yes. How much of that did you read?”

  “I know you were leaving your house,” he says, “and you were on your way to do some shopping. It was approximately three-thirty on a Saturday afternoon. I know they were waiting for you outside and dragged you into a van.”

  “Yes.” I clear my throat as the memories surface. “Someone came up behind me and threw a bag over my head then put his hand over my mouth. I tried to scream, but there wasn’t anyone outside to hear me. I heard a sliding door open, and my leg got scraped when I was shoved inside. The van started moving right away as I was pushed down to the floor.”

  “I don’t know exactly how many there were—at least four—plus whoever was driving. One of them held my hands up above my head, and two others held my legs.”

  “You don’t have to give me the details,” he says. “Don’t put yourself through that.”

  I nod, feeling tears coming to my eyes as Falk’s arm slips around my waist.