I couldn’t hold back an exasperated sigh, although I already knew that would just spike her ire. “Sam—“
“No, listen to me,” she insisted, dropping her book in favor of turning to me, her hands folded in front of her. “The way you startle and jerk all the time. The way you look at everything like a deer caught in the headlights. You can maybe alleviate everyone’s suspicion here because they don’t know you, but I do. Or at least I used to.”
Letting air escape slowly through my cracked lips, I tried to find words that I simply didn’t want to say. “I’m not saying that a lot of shit didn’t happen to me over the past year,” I tried to explain. “But Daniel isn’t responsible for any of that.” Which wasn’t quite true, but Nate had never deliberately traumatized me just for the heck of it. And he’d always been there to let me vent or otherwise learn to cope with the situation. Only now that for the first time that I really, actually needed him… But I knew all too well that thinking along those lines wouldn’t help me.
Sam let out a frustrated snort. “So this thing between you and him—“
“Our marriage,” I cut in, knowing I hurt her, but anything that would get her to leave me alone was better than this.
Her mouth twisted with derision, and her tone turned sharper as she continued. “I thought you died out there, you know? When you didn’t come back home that Friday evening.” She paused, giving me a chance to speak up but I remained silent. Her next breath was clearly audible, speaking of a world of hurt that I immediately wished I could take from her. “All this time I grieved, and the truth is that you were cheating on me with some guy. That’s why you didn’t come home. Typical.”
I knew that I didn’t deserve this, but still felt like she had a right to say so. “Sam—“
She shook her head, making me fall silent again. “Guess I can’t fault you, right? I always knew that sooner or later you’d go back to… Nevermind. How did you get out of the city?”
I shrugged, not sure exactly how much to tell her—and how much of what had actually happened she would believe. “Yes, Daniel and I were together,” I said. “Then it became obvious that we had to flee, so we ran.”
“So you abandoned me,” she pressed out, anger low in her voice. I tried to shake my head but stopped myself. In a sense, I had.
“I couldn’t have made it across town by the time we realized what was going on in the morning—“
“It would have been too late by then,” she cut through my protest, her eyes boring into mine. “They sent a detail to fetch you, you know? Apparently you were on some list of important people worth saving. They waited until after midnight before they brought us all into their evacuation camp. They said maybe you were already there as they were sending someone to your work place, too. And when they flew us out, I saw what was going on down there, and I knew, you couldn’t be alive anymore. There was that bridge with all those people trying to run—“
She cut off there, looking away. The impulse to vault up from my cot and shake her until she told me every damn detail was there, but I cut down on it. What were the chances that it had been that very bridge where the nightmare had really started for me? There had been planes and helicopters flying overhead, leading the undead surge straight to us.
But none of that mattered now, and it would have been cruel to explain that to her.
“Sam, I’m sorry—“
Her sharp laugh cut me off again. “Don’t be,” she huffed. “I’m sure that your Daniel helped you move on quickly.”
A slight echo of that old pain deep in my chest flared up, but it was mostly how I was hurting her feelings that made me speak up.
“I mourned you. For weeks. Months. Heck, just last week I thought of something that you’d have said, and it still hurt. Yes, I moved on, but you would always have remained a part of me. Because I loved you. I really did. Whatever else happened, that never changed.”
There was, if anything, only satisfaction visible in her gaze. “Loved? As in, you used to?”
Anger made me want to snap at her, but I forced myself to calm down before I answered. “Yes. But meeting him had nothing to do with that—“
“Liar,” she grumbled, narrowing her eyes at me. I held her gaze evenly.
“It’s true, and you know it. I’m not saying that everything was terrible toward the end, but what we had barely even resembled a relationship. You were sleeping around, and I was doing everything to keep myself out of situations where we had to do something together. We would have both been much better off if we’d just called it quits and parted amicably.”
I knew I shouldn’t have said that when I saw the stricken look on her face, making me feel like shit. After a year of not pussyfooting around anything with Nate it was hard to remember that I had never been this frank with Sam—which was likely the cause for the rift that had opened between us.
“It was all terrible for you?” she whispered after swallowing thickly. Oh great. Next thing she would start to cry, I knew it.
Shaking my head I looked to the side, trying to salvage the situation somehow. Fighting like this was so useless. I felt like slapping myself for how I was wasting what still felt like an opportunity I had never expected to get—to spend one more hour with her and tell her all the things that I never got to say.
“Of course not. I’m sorry I said that. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s all just…” I trailed off, then sat up so I could reach over to her and take one of her hands between mine. She let me, but her grasp was lifeless. “So much has happened. I can’t think straight right now. Finding you alive here, it’s—“
“Too good to be true?” she offered, a weak smile ghosting over her features.
I nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. It’s the first good thing that’s happened to me in a really long time.”
Sam considered my words before she pulled her hand away, but rather than withdraw further, she got up and walked around my cot, sitting down behind me so she could lean against the wall. She patted her thigh, and after a moment’s hesitation I lay back down, my cheek cushioned on the soft folds of her skirt. Her fingers went up to my hair, stroking gently, making me relax instantly. The sense of familiarity sweeping through me was enough to choke me up.
“I’m sorry I said that,” she murmured as her fingers continued their soothing tracks. “About us. I guess I’m not used to you being so…”
“In your face?” I suggested.
“Blunt,” she corrected, her tone slightly chiding. That made me chuckle, and when I looked up at her, I saw a slight smile building around her mouth. Exhaling forcefully, she looked as if she was steeling herself for something.
“What kind of guy is he, that husband of yours? Must be quite the catch to turn you of all people into a lying cheater.”
So much for backing down, but I did my best to ignore her barbs.
“Do you really want to know? I never did. Still don’t want to. It’s in the past and…” I trailed off there, leaving her to draw her conclusions from that.
Sam shook her head, dismissing my concern. “Tell me about Daniel.” She stressed the name weirdly enough to make me frown. When she saw that she let out a scoff. “I saw the tattoo on your butt. I can read. What I don’t understand is why you’re lying about your names.” She paused, the ire on her face turning into discomfort. “Are you in some kind of trouble? You’re safe here. And I won’t tell anyone.”
It was tempting to tell her at least some parts, but I decided that it was a bad idea. “The less you know, the better. But I can tell you that much.” At her nod, I asked, “What do you want to know?”
She shrugged. “What kind of guy is he?”
“He’s kind of an ass,” I admitted, incapable of not grinning for a second. “But it’s okay, because he’s like that to everyone. He sees me, who I really am. Who I could be if I stopped bullshitting myself. And he accepts me, strengths and flaws alike.” I was sure that Nate would have laughed at that assessment of him, the mere tho
ught making my heart ache. “He’s fiercely loyal, and he’d lay down his life for me in a second. I’ve lost count how many times he saved me over the past year. I wouldn’t have made it without him for a day out there.” I wondered if that had been too vehement, but the frown on Sam’s forehead softened gradually.
“He treats you right?”
A weird question, but I nodded nevertheless. “He does have a penchant for gloating when I screw up, but it’s not like I’m not worse when he does. We… harmonize.” Normally not how I would have described us, but without going into details it was the best I could manage.
“How did you meet?” Sam prodded.
I hesitated, but the official version was tame enough—in most aspects—that I could very well run with it. “We met in a park. He was there, running with his dog. The damn animal jumped all over me and got dirt on my clothes, and he insisted that I had to let him buy me coffee in turn, and, well…”
“One thing led to another?” she guessed.
All I could do was shrug. “Well, yeah.”
I could tell that she knew I was lying, or at least omitting parts of it. “How long has this been going on? When was the first time you—“ She cut herself off there, glaring at the wall rather than down at me but I knew who that ire was reserved for.
I debated flat out refusing to answer, but if she really wanted to know…
“First time we fucked was in the alley right behind that coffee shop. And until the shit hit the fan we’ve been acting pretty much like horny teenagers.”
I’d seldom seen Sam so appalled at anything I’d done, and in a way that gave me a twisted kind of satisfaction. That she clearly hadn’t seen coming. Of course that also made me feel incredibly petty, but also melancholic. So much had happened since then. So much had changed—and some of that entirely because I’d been acting like a wounded animal, licking her wounds. If my stint as Taggard’s guest had done one good thing it was to shake me right out of that phase.
“And then things changed?” Sam guessed, her voice pressed but not as full of reproach as I’d expected.
“By then I knew who he was. And he was injured. Staying alive was more important than getting our rocks off,” I explained. “And then things changed again and… it’s a long story, but a boring one, I’m sure.”
She nodded, her curiosity evidently satisfied. “You’re happy with him?”
No need to reflect on that. I nodded. “There’s a lot that has happened that I regret, but he’s not one of those things.”
Her low exhale spoke volumes how much that hurt her, but she managed to keep a lid on it for the most part. That was new, too. Sam had always been very open about her feelings, good and bad, with me—but I could see where I no longer deserved that measure of intimacy from her.
“You could stay with us, here,” she suggested, perking up a bit. “Your husband, too. We always need more guards. I’d have to talk to Mary and Hamish, but I’m sure they would be happy to let you both stay, if you abide by our rules.”
I’d suspected that they were the ones in charge, but something about how she extended that offer made my hackles rise. I waited just long enough to pretend to think about it but shook my head. “We belong out there. I’m happy that you have a safe, good home here, but it’s not for us.”
I dreaded her contradicting me about my assessment of the settlement, but she remained calm and collected, not a hint of unease visible in her body language. That made me relax again.
“You should sleep some more,” she advised. “You look like you need it. Don’t worry, I’ll still be here when you wake up.”
Closing my eyes, I left my thoughts drift—and the simple comfort of knowing there was someone watching over me finally let me fall asleep for real, staving off the nightmares.
Chapter 30
I must have briefly roused when Sam had gotten up, because when I woke up again, she was gone but I wasn’t surprised about it. Instead of her, Margo sat in a chair by the door, looking up from where she was darning socks when she saw me move. She only had a blank stare from me, making me guess that Sam was the only one around who would have welcomed me here for an extended stay. I didn’t mind, and didn’t hold it against Margo and the other villagers, either. I was an intruder, and if not one they were scared of, still a nuisance. From what I could see the shadows outside were lengthening already, telling me that I’d slept through the afternoon. Sitting up, I had to suppress a groan as pulled muscles and strained tendons protested, but that bone-deep weariness had lightened. I made a mental note to make sure to stuff my face with any food readily available to keep my strength up, but for now I felt vaguely normal again.
“Where’s Sam?” I asked, hoping that I didn’t sound like a lost puppy. “And have you heard back from Dispatch?”
Margo’s lips twisted at the mention of the scavenger hub, but her tone was pleasant enough as she replied. “Samantha had to see to her duties. And yes, we got word back for you but we thought it was more important to let you sleep. The woman on the radio didn’t sound urgent so we decided the news could wait until later.”
Anger zinged through me but fear came racing right after it—there was a certain kind of news that could always wait because it would never change. Clamping down on that nonsense, I forced myself to stop panicking.
“Thanks,” I said as I got up, almost tripping over the unfamiliar extra fabric of the skirt. Margo watched me straighten but did nothing to move herself. “I’ll head over to the radio station now, if you don’t mind?”
I wasn’t exactly asking permission but she took it that way. “You should stay here until Samantha is ready to take you there,” she stated. “We wouldn’t want you to get lost.”
That idea was ludicrous enough to make me want to laugh, but just in time I remembered that I’d dished them the bullshit about not being able to read maps or find a car I’d just abandoned. Maybe their concern was genuine.
“Thank you, but I really need to know—“
I cut off when she let out a loud sigh and started gathering her things. “Very well. I will take you,” she offered, sounding like that was a huge concession.
The sun sitting low in the sky was still enough to make my eyes water, but after a day indoors they were less puffy than before. I did my best to appear small, keeping my head down as I took in everything around me. Still no children, and while there were plenty of people moving around, I didn’t get the sense that anyone was doing anything. Even in Harristown, when the people had gathered to gawk at us, many had been carrying tools or baskets full of clothes to be washed or hung up for drying. Aurora had been an ever bustling hub, with chores and tasks getting completed any time of the day, and even into the night where necessary. The scent of something cooking over a fire lay in the air, but that was it. I couldn’t be gone from here soon enough.
Hamish and two other men were in the radio station, chatting among themselves. When they saw us enter, Hamish gave Margo a concerned look but the others ignored us. Or rather, they finished whatever conversation had been going on before the taller of them, a blond, buff guy in his early forties, turned to leer at Margo. It was when he asked her what she was doing here that I recognized him, but my mind still needed another second to catch up. It was that damn asshole from Harristown, their mayor. I’d forgotten his name. But what was he doing here? Some little tidbit rose at the back of my mind as I did my very best not to let him catch a glimpse of my face. Hadn’t Dave said something about things changing over there, and Rita sending reinforcements? It was an uncanny coincidence to find him here, so very close to that underground complex…
But all those were thoughts that needed a fully functioning brain, and mine wasn’t quite up to the task yet.
“Good to see you’re awake again,” Hamish greeted me, ignoring that asshole’s question to Margo, just as she herself did. “Margo told you that we have news? I’ll try to establish a connection so that you can talk to the people there yourself.”
The other two men left, making me let out the breath that I’d been holding. Margo stared after them for a second, and I didn’t miss the silent exchange she and Hamish had going on. He didn’t look happy, but when he noticed me looking at him, he offered a small smile. “It’s likely good news. They wouldn’t tell us but they didn’t sound concerned.”
Another measure of ease swept through me when the voice that squawked out of the radio was one I recognized. Not Tamara’s but the next best thing—Rita’s.
“This is Dispatch actual, do you copy, Halsey?”
“Hearing you loud and clear,” Hamish told her. “I’ve got Anna here, anxiously waiting for news about her husband.”
“Anna, right,” Rita said, and I could practically hear her smirk through the radio. Her voice normalized as she continued, sounding very professional and appropriately bored. “I think we found your husband, but I need you to verify who you are beforehand.”
“How do I do that?” I asked, not sure what she wanted me to say. Talking in code that no one had established wasn’t exactly easy.
She cleared her throat. I thought she was hard-pressed not to laugh. “When I talked to him this afternoon, he told me that there’s a quote you should know. Can you tell me the rest of it? 'I hold it true, whate'er befall; I feel it when I sorrow most…’”
It was not what I’d expected, but the answer came up in my mind before I even had time to properly think about it. “‘’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’” I swallowed, adding, “I was sick a while ago, and he read me poems from that book he brought with him.”
Rita was incapable of holding a loud bray back now. “Seriously, if anyone tortures me with Tennyson while I’m on my deathbed, I’d come right back to haunt them,” she said, making me wince internally. So much for that—but at least now I knew that she’d recognized me.
“There’s no accounting for taste,” I told her, making sure that the smirk I wanted to don didn’t make it onto my face. My voice was still somewhat sharp, making Hamish raise his brows, but he likely attributed that to women bitching each other out, independent of knowing each other.
Resurgence: Green Fields book 5 Page 35