Cia Rose Series Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Wood, Rick

  Cia looked down at what she was wearing, appreciative of the clothes that had been leant to her but feeling uncomfortable in them. Leggings and a sports bra. It was so different to the comfortably ripped and torn clothes she had become accustomed to—but, again, trying to adjust and all that.

  She found the corner where the punching bag was. She walked past a few guys huffing as they lifted weights in sweat-coated vests, and a woman lunging forward with her hair tied back and make up perfectly applied.

  Make up.

  Who had decided that people still needed makeup after the end of the world?

  Luckily, Cia was away from everyone else, meaning she wouldn’t be bothered and no one could stare at her—she hoped, anyway. She lunged into the punching bag with one fist, surprised by its resistance. She thought she had quite a good punch, but that was probably how it was designed; to be a challenge.

  After a few more swings forced the bag to sway, she realised she had been tuning out a crescendo of huffs and smacks from an adjacent room.

  She leant back to peer in and did a double take.

  Wandering away from the punching bag, she moved into the other room and hovered by the door.

  There was Arnold and Ryker. In a boxing ring. Arnold in vest and shorts that revealed his age and his bony physique, against a more muscular Ryker, topless and sweaty. Sparing. Throwing punches back and forth, ducking and dodging and congratulating the other for landing a blow every now and then.

  “Let’s pause there,” said Arnold, his voice too posh to seem right in a boxing ring. “It appears we have a visitor.”

  They both stopped and looked at Cia.

  “I’m sorry, I—I just heard, and I–”

  “Oh, it’s all right. A man of my age struggling away in such a situation must be quite the sight. I would stand and gawk as well.”

  “I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t mean to…”

  “Hey, Little Miss Tough Girl,” Ryker said. “Why don’t you come in and do a bit of sparing with me?”

  What? Sparing?

  As in, fighting for pleasure, not survival?

  Cia didn’t jump at the opportunity.

  “Come on,” Ryker insisted. “You say you’re all toughened up from being out there, that we are all unprepared in here. Well come on, let me see what you got.”

  Cia hesitated. She knew she was being baited, and she did not want to fall for it. At the same time, he was demeaning her and her experiences and that infuriated her.

  “Oh, go on,” Arnold said, leaving the ring and wiping his brow with a towel. “It’s harmless fun.”

  Cia huffed. “Fine.”

  She stepped into the ring and faced Ryker.

  “Let’s see your stance then,” he said.

  He lifted his fists into a guard in front of his face.

  She shrugged. She’d never taken a starting position before. Normally the fight finds her before it’s too late.

  Still, she mimicked his stance.

  Ryker began circling her, and she circled back. They paced around the ring, Ryker looking into her eyes, dodging his head from one side of his fists to the other, Cia wondering what exactly she was meant to be doing.

  He charged forward, went to strike, and she ducked, backed away, and ended up on the ropes.

  He backed off.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked with an expression that made her feel stupid and humiliated.

  “Nothing,” she said, feeling her anger rise. “Let’s do this.”

  She stepped forward, and this time she went to strike—throwing a punch, which he sidestepped, then another, and another, before he swiped his foot and took her out by the ankles.

  “Woah, I thought it was just punches,” she said, pushing herself back to her feet.

  He shrugged. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

  Wrath rose through her body. She stood, clenched her fists, and unknowingly snarled.

  “Just so you know,” he said, leering at her, “I’m holding back. Seeing as you’re a girl.”

  Now this pissed her off.

  “Well, don’t,” she spat spitefully.

  He shrugged. “As you wish.”

  She lurched forward and went to strike. The next thing she knew, she was on her knees, clutching a cheek bone that throbbed and throbbed against her hand.

  She looked up at Ryker, scowling.

  “You told me not to hold back,” he said.

  She went to get up and charge at him again, but was halted by the only sound that seemed to calm her.

  “Rosy!”

  Boy came rushing into the ring and to her side, wrapping his arms around her.

  “Rosy, are you okay?”

  She looked at Boy.

  Boy, who probably couldn’t understand why they were punching each other.

  “I’m fine,” she told him, and let him guide her out, deciding to leave the gym for another day.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “Let’s talk about love,” said Christoph, as if beginning some cheesy song from a time long forgotten.

  “Love?” replied Cia.

  “Yes. Love. Who do you love?”

  “Well, Boy. Of course. That’s it.”

  “Yes, but that is more of a paternal love. I am talking about a fiery love.”

  “Fiery?”

  “Romantic, if you will.”

  Cia shifted. She straightened her sleeves and readjusted her seat.

  “There is no romantic love,” she asserted.

  “Within the many years you have spent out there, have you never come across someone you cared for?”

  She looked at him and his piercing blue eyes. It was as if he knew.

  “No,” she said.

  “I don’t believe you,” he said, so calmly and serenely it would have made her think she was lying even if she wasn’t.

  “What, do I just reek of someone who needs someone to love?”

  “Are you a virgin?”

  “Isn’t that an invasive question?”

  “I’m your therapist. It’s my job to be invasive.”

  She stared at him. Fine, she could be honest about this one. It would be interesting to see his reaction.

  “No,” she said coldly.

  “Well?”

  “I have had sex one time, with one man. I fucked him and I killed him as I did it. To survive.”

  He didn’t falter. He just continued to look at her without talking. She knew this was so she would fill the silence, and she couldn’t help but fall for the trick.

  “I was captured by a community who said they would allow me to be safe. Like this one.”

  “Exactly like this one?”

  “Well, no.”

  “How was it different?”

  She hesitated. “They were using women to repopulate the earth. They gave us no choice and forced us to do as we were told.”

  “Why did you not refuse?”

  “Because I wouldn’t have escaped that way. The only way was to go along with it and then…”

  She turned away.

  “How did it make you feel?” he asked.

  “What? Well, bad, it wasn’t how they should be treating–”

  “I do not mean the morals of the community. I mean the man who you, as you so eloquently put it—fucked and killed.” Hearing a swear word from his mouth was so unnatural. “How did you feel about that?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

  That wasn’t a lie. She had never thought about it. At least, not consciously, anyway. She hadn’t even told Dalton. It was just something she’d had to do.

  Yet it had always been there, hiding behind her thoughts, the poisonous tale of her scorpion mind.

  “Now you’ve thought about it, how does it make you feel?”

  “That’s such a cliché thing to ask. A therapist asking how it made me feel–”

  “You’re evading the question.”

  “I’m pointing out the odd situation.
The world has ended and we are debating–”

  “How. Did. It. Make. You. Feel.”

  She huffed.

  “Fine. I—I felt nothing. Obviously, the immediate shock was bad, but then I had to escape, and I had to get Boy and this other girl and there was nothing I could do to dwell on it.”

  “Dwell on it now.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because what good would that do?”

  “Imagine some day you find a boy here—or a man, I should say—and you have sex with him. Do you really think you will do so without flashbacks or these panic attacks you keep getting? How would you have a healthy relationship?”

  “I haven’t really been thinking about a healthy relationship. I’ve been thinking about survival.”

  “Well, now’s the time to shift your focus.”

  She scoffed.

  “Why do you keep rejecting the idea that this could be a safe place for you to stay?”

  “Because it’s all so…”

  “Perfect?”

  She stood. She couldn’t sit anymore so she stood, and she wandered, and went to the window where she saw children playing outside—children, and they were playing, and doing so outside.

  She shook her head.

  Fine, if he wanted honesty, he could have honesty.

  “There was someone else,” she admitted.

  “Yes?”

  “His name was Dalton.”

  “And?”

  “And I thought I loved him.”

  “You thought you did?”

  “Then I had to…”

  “Yes?”

  She shook her head.

  “You had to what, Cia?”

  She turned away.

  “I think you need to say it. Aloud.”

  “Say what?”

  “Say what you did.”

  “I…”

  He looked at her expectantly.

  “I killed him,” she finally said. “He was a threat to me, and to Boy, so I did what I had to. I don’t regret it.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Yes.

  No.

  I don’t know!

  She slumped back into her seat.

  “There’s someone here who seems to like me,” she said, not sure why she was admitting it.

  “Oh, yes?”

  “His name is Hades.”

  “Oh, Hades. Yes, I know him. Good young man. Confident. I can see why you like him.”

  “I didn’t say I like him.”

  He smiled.

  “Stop doing that,” she said.

  “What?”

  “That thing where you think you’ve read my mind.”

  “Okay. So, Hades. Why the hesitation?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even know if I could like someone. It’s not something I’ve particularly thought about.”

  “Maybe now’s the time to think about it.”

  “It’s just…”

  “You’re worried?”

  “Yes.”

  “About what?”

  “About…”

  “About Dalton.”

  It threw her off to hear his name said by someone else. His name had just been a thought, a thing she could erase from her mind every few hours. To hear someone else say his name meant he had existed. That what happened actually happened. It all seemed so far away…

  “Well, Hades,” Christoph said. “Why not spend some time with him?”

  She shrugged.

  “Because you still think you’re living solely for survival?” he asked.

  “That’s what life is like now.”

  “Not in here, Cia. Not in here.”

  Could he be right?

  Boy couldn’t be happier.

  He was learning about dinosaurs and learning about body language and having a life she never thought he could have.

  Maybe she should think about more than survival.

  Then again, that’s how you get killed. You let your guard drop and you die. You should never stop concentrating on surviving.

  “It’s not my place to give advice,” Christoph admitted. “It’s my place to listen and ask the right questions. But in this situation, I think I will break the ethical code I live by and make such a suggestion.”

  Man, he used a lot of words.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Go for it,” he said. “What do you have to lose?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Against her better judgement, Cia briefly met with Hades and made plans to meet the following day.

  It wasn’t a date.

  Except, it was.

  But dates didn’t exist anymore.

  Except, they did.

  Never did she imagine engaging in such menial tasks as dating… but she was. That was now her reality.

  The reality where they were running from monsters and fighting and killing and doing unspeakable things to keep Boy safe was gone.

  Yes, this place prompted many questions, many of which were yet to be answered. And she hadn’t forgotten about Cathryn.

  But Cathryn had made her choice.

  She was too young to make it, but that was the world they lived in now.

  Boy was happy. Graham was great. She was…

  Content?

  She’d sworn she wouldn’t relax, wouldn’t null her instinct that had helped them survive this long. But maybe there was more to life. Maybe there was a purpose.

  She said good night to Boy and watched him from his bedroom doorway, hovering, lingering her gaze upon him as he turned onto his side and instantly fell asleep, wrapped in a duvet. Comfortable. Snug. Warm.

  She beamed with pride.

  He was the reason she had kept going for so long, and he’d never know it.

  Could he even understand it?

  Sure, he could.

  But could she explain it…

  She was so proud of him. The way he had taken Graham’s lessons with enthusiasm… it was remarkable.

  And that was the one word she could consistently use to describe Boy: remarkable.

  She backed away, closing the door, leaving him to sleep. Slowly, she crept along the hallway to her room next door. Even though it was a few steps, she didn’t want the floorboards to creak. Just a few weeks ago she’d have wanted tiny noises to wake Boy up and alert him.

  Not now.

  Now, she wanted Boy to sleep in content silence, drifting off into a world where his unconscious took over and showed him all the delights it held.

  She sauntered to her window. She was tired and wanted to get into bed, but first, she just wanted to relish it. Enjoy it.

  The creatures didn’t come close to the community, for whatever reason.

  Yes, there were questions about why, but do you know what—they were safe! Whatever repellent the community had found was working. Ant spray kept ants away, maybe they had found something that fought off bigger creatures. She hadn’t seen a Thoral or a Maskete or a Lisker since that hunting incident, and even longer before that.

  And, hey, she did not miss them.

  It was a difficult adjustment, but now she was here she did not want to leave.

  So she’d be their warrior.

  She’d hunt with them, fight with them, and keep these people safe if that’s what kept her and Boy safe. She would do all those things and more, if that’s what this community required her to do.

  She yawned. Rubbed her eyes.

  Was this moment of reflection the effect her session with Christoph?

  No, it was more than that.

  It was a deeper change.

  Something resembling happiness.

  She closed the curtains.

  She had one more thing to do before she slept.

  She stood beside her bed. Lifted her pillow. Stared admiringly at the curved blade of the knife she kept ready, just in case.

  She lifted that knife.

  Twisted it. Marvelled at it.

  Then dropped i
t by her side.

  She walked over to the cupboard, opened the first drawer, and placed the knife inside, next to her socks.

  With a final glance, like one you would give to a pet you were saying goodbye to, she took her eyes away and closed the drawer.

  She would sleep without it.

  It was there if she needed it, but for now, no one would attack her in her sleep.

  She needn’t keep in beneath her pillow.

  And, what’s more, as she lay her head down upon the pillow, she felt it sink further and provide more comfort than it previously had. It was as if the removal of the weapon had improved the bed’s comfort.

  The moonlight outside her window was shut out.

  The streets were silent.

  And her body was fatigued.

  She closed her eyes and fell into a deep, wonderful sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  A walk along a stream and an ice cream on a bench. It was a surreal day, but a perfect one. Cia had forced herself to accept that it was happening, that she was on a date, with a handsome man, and that she was content to be so.

  He seemed nice.

  He probably wouldn’t try to kill her.

  She chuckled at the morbidity of the thought, then grew cold at her chuckles.

  “You are really going for the ice cream,” Hades observed, and Cia immediately felt subconscious.

  Yes, she had been devouring that ice cream—but she hadn’t had one since she was a child. She’d forgotten ice cream existed. She had forgotten the way it tasted. It was cold yet satisfying. Perfect texture against her tongue.

  Damn, it was good.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I haven’t had one of these in so long.”

  “Tell me about it,” Hades said, licking his with far more constraint. “When I heard that someone here knew how to make ice cream, and was going to serve it from a van, I felt like I was eight again.”

  She knew what he meant. The taste made her feel like a child, taking her back to a place of pointless nostalgia where there were no creatures and her dad still loved her enough to protect her.

  They finished their ice creams, and she munched down the rest of the cone and promptly wanted another one. She then realised how much silence she had left and looked uncomfortably to Hades.