The Last Woman (All That Remains #1)

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The Last Woman (All That Remains #1) Page 31

by S. M. Shade


  We don’t remain in the house for long. Airen and Joseph commandeer a truck from a dealership nearby. We’re lucky Joseph knows the area. He leads us to a department store where we replace our clothing and gear we left at the hotel when they grabbed us. None of us wishes to return there.

  Joseph protests when Airen asks for directions to his house. “Forget it. Let’s just go home. The kids and Julie must be worried sick. I never should’ve let you do this in the first place. I put us all at risk.”

  “Are you out of your damn mind? After everything we went through to get here? Besides, this wasn’t your idea. We can blame Abby and her pregnancy hormones.” He grins.

  I smack him, and he squeezes my knee.

  Joseph agrees, and we reach his place in less than an hour. Eric waits in the truck while the rest of us enter the home where Joseph lived with his husband and boys. His reaction rips my heart to shreds. He holds up admirably while he collects pictures and mementos and boxes them up to take with him, but he loses his tenuous grip when he opens the door to Mason’s room.

  It’s the quintessential little boy’s room, featuring a set of dark wooden bunk beds made up with Spiderman bedding. Toys are scattered about, and a large stuffed dog stands in the corner, as if guarding the room until Joseph could return. Nothing has been disturbed. You could almost expect a small dark haired, brown eyed boy to come bounding in, all smiles.

  “Oh God, Mason!” Joseph’s cry of despair is that of a wounded animal. He falls to his knees and holds a small pillow to his face. “It still smells like him,” he sobs. His heartbreak and anguish over his lost son is a terrible thing to witness. There isn’t a dry eye in the room. “Please! I just want to see him one more time!” he cries, his grief crushing him.

  “Joseph,” I murmur, softly. We shouldn’t have come.

  “No, I can’t. I can’t take anymore.” He collapses on Mason’s bed, weeping into his pillow with abandon. His body is wracked with sobs, shaking the bed, and I don’t know what to do or say. I don’t know how to comfort someone experiencing pain I’ve never even come close to suffering.

  Airen steps toward him and whispers, “Abby, you and Troy wait for us downstairs.” As we leave, Airen pulls Joseph’s head into his lap and talks to him quietly, trying to calm him. I remember him doing the same for me a lifetime ago. Nearly an hour later they emerge from the bedroom and make their way downstairs. Joseph’s face is swollen and red, and he’s carrying the stuffed dog that belonged to Mason.

  “Everything you packed is in the truck, sweetie. Is there anything else you want to take?” I ask. He shakes his head. We’re the last two out of the house. He stops in the foyer and looks back.

  “Goodbye, my boys. I’ll never forget you. I’ll love you forever,” he whispers.

  I take his hand as we cross the porch. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be.”

  The stuffed dog rides with him and Airen in the back seat. We haven’t gone five miles before he’s asleep with his face buried in it, in the scent of his lost little boy. We’re silent while I drive from side-street to highway to side-street, dodging the worst of the pile ups. We’re all contemplating the things we’ve lost. I’ve never wanted to see Carson so badly in my entire life, but we won’t make it back today.

  We stop for the night in a furniture store where there are plenty of couches and beds to choose from. Airen lights the lanterns, and I prepare some dinner, though no one really has an appetite.

  Eric hasn’t said two words since we left Joseph’s place. He’s brooding silently, and I assume he’s afraid of what we may think of him, even though he assisted in our escape. He glances around the room. “I need to explain why I was with those people,” he blurts out.

  Eric is a tall guy, probably six foot four, and slim. He has hair so blonde it’s nearly white, and his pale blue eyes are slightly magnified behind a pair of wire eyeglasses.

  Troy nods at him. “We’re listening.”

  “Abraham and Cole were the first people I met after the sickness took everyone. I was basically wandering around searching for survivors, other people that weren’t good enough for God to take.”

  I don’t like where this is going. We can’t bring a zealot back to our home.

  “Why did you think that was what the plague had done?” Troy asks.

  “My father was a minister. I was always taught the day would come when the righteous would be saved and the heathens left behind. I quit going to church the day I turned eighteen, and they never failed to remind me hell was waiting for me. After everyone died but me, I assumed they were right.”

  “So that makes it okay to kidnap and torture people?” Airen demands.

  “Air! Stop. Let him finish,” I scold. If anyone has the right to demand answers it’s Troy, not Airen.

  Eric continues, a look of dismay on his face. “No, of course not. I never participated in the kidnapping, and I certainly never tortured anyone. Believe me, it didn’t please Abraham when I refused. I’m not sure how much longer they would’ve kept me alive.”

  “You brought me painkillers and water,” Troy says.

  “I wanted to help you, Troy. I swear I did. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep them from hurting you.”

  Troy swallows and nods his head. “They would’ve killed you if they caught you sneaking me water and medicine, or if you’d been seen releasing us from the stable. You did what you could for us, Eric. I don’t blame you.”

  Eric sighs and continues his story. “I wanted to get away from them a few weeks after we met. At first, they just talked about how we were going to spread God’s word, and I felt like I’d been given a second chance, but they were crazy. Once they began abducting people to save, I planned to leave, but I was in too deep, and I was terrified they’d find me if I ran. I was afraid to cross them.” He hangs his head in shame.

  “You did, though,” Troy points out. “What changed? Why did you take the risk and help us escape?”

  Good question, I was wondering the same thing, myself.

  “I thought it was our best chance, because there were two able bodied men who could help us fight. I couldn’t bear to watch them use another woman the way they did Jennifer.” He turns to me. “I’m sorry, Abby, that I was one of the men who escorted you and Joseph to that bedroom. If I could’ve prevented it...” He trails off, shaking his head in regret.

  “Joseph and I are close friends, so don’t trouble yourself over what they made me do. It was far worse for Joseph to be tested in such a way with his best friend’s wife, to be forced to prove anything at all, and for Airen to have to let it happen. Abraham wanted to drive a wedge between the three of us, I’m sure, but he failed. You wouldn’t have been helping anyone if you had tried to prevent it. I understand.”

  “So do I,” Joseph adds, and Airen nods his assent.

  “Do you still believe God took the good people and left the bad?” I ask.

  “I honestly don’t know what I believe anymore.”

  “Just tell me the truth. Do you have a problem with Joseph’s or Troy’s sexual orientation? You should also be aware I don’t believe in any gods. Can you keep company with gay people and atheists?”

  “I don’t have a problem with anyone.”

  “I’m not trying to put you on the spot or make you feel bad. I ask because we have three impressionable children at home and one on the way. If you decide to stay with us, you absolutely cannot preach at them.” I need to make this clear.

  “I understand, and I’d never do that.”

  “Okay, then. I need to get some sleep, you guys. I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.” Moving deeper into the store, I locate a comfy bed and crawl in, pulling a sleeping bag over me. Wow, I want one of these at home. It feels great on my back.

  A few hours later, I wake from a nightmare. Joseph is asleep on the next bed, and Airen is stretched out beside me, snoring lightly. I cuddle up to him and attempt to fall back to sleep. Troy and Eric are still talking softly.


  “I should’ve found a way to keep them from doing that to you.” Eric sniffs.

  “You couldn’t,” Troy argues.

  “I...just...no one should ever have to suffer what you did.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. Please, don’t mention it again.”

  “Sure, man. I understand.”

  “Not to anyone else, either. I don’t want people to know what was done to me. I want to be able to start over.”

  “Me too.”

  * * * *

  We leave as soon as it’s light, desperate to get home. We have been gone for a full week, and Julie and the kids must think the worst. Everyone is in a better mood when we get closer to home. Airen and Joseph even tease each other and squabble over the music choices. Pulling into that driveway and watching Carson, Jayla, Walker, and Julie run out to meet us fills me with an indescribable joy. It’s complete bedlam when we climb out of the truck. Everyone is trying to talk at once. Jayla and Walker burst into tears at the sight of Joseph and Airen’s injuries.

  Joseph scoops up Walker. “Stop, monkey, we’re fine. We’re all fine.”

  “You have a black eye.” He sniffles and clings to his neck.

  “I know, but it doesn’t hurt. Don’t worry.”

  Jayla holds tight to Airen. “What happened?”

  “We ran into some bad guys,” Airen replies, glancing at Walker. “We’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Are you hurt? Is the baby okay?” Carson questions in a hushed voice while he hugs me.

  “I’m fine. The baby is fine. I missed you so much.” I squeeze him again. He runs to Airen and hugs him, hard. I can see the surprise and emotion on Airen’s face.

  “Dad, I didn’t think you were coming back. Any of you.”

  “Never think that, buddy. I’ll never let anything happen to your mom.”

  After we introduce everyone to Troy and Eric, it takes a few days for everything to settle down and get back to normal. Troy is ecstatic to be free and to live in a house with an actual shower. He’s quiet, and keeps to himself a lot of the time. We all go out of our way to make him feel welcome.

  He allows Julie to examine him, and she suggests what he needs most is fresh air and sunshine after being locked away for twenty-three hours a day for ten months. He and Joseph take long walks around the lake every afternoon, though the weather has turned cold. It seems to help him, and his appetite improves. He puts on weight and grows stronger.

  Troy is a nice looking man. He’s not blessed with Airen’s striking beauty or Joseph’s adorable boyish charm, but he’s handsome in a more classical way. He’s a bit taller than both Joseph and Airen. He has brown eyes, and his light brown hair is thick and wavy. He’s intelligent, and he seems much older than his twenty-four years. His experience with the cult has traumatized him, but day by day he’s improving.

  Airen, Joseph, and I only revealed that we were captured and escaped. The rest of our ordeal stays between the five of us. I feel guilty about what happened with Joseph in that little bedroom, though I know Airen doesn’t blame either of us. It’s only because he doesn’t realize how far it went. If he knew how we had touched each other, how passionate it was, he wouldn’t be so understanding. I see the same guilt on Joseph’s face when he glances at me as we are digging up the smokehouse floor to plant potatoes.

  “Abby...” he hesitates. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t, you don’t need to apologize for anything. We didn’t have a choice.”

  “You know what I’m talking about.” He regards me, solemnly. “I shouldn’t have taken advantage of the situation.”

  “I kissed you, Joseph. If someone bears the brunt of the blame for how far that went, it’s me. You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do. I’m ashamed I let myself get so carried away, and I feel guilty because I don’t know if I would’ve stopped had the circumstances been different,” I confess, shame heating my face.

  “I love Airen with all of my heart, and I’d like to think I’d never cheat on him, but I came so close, and it happened so fast. Maybe I’m just a terrible person.” It’s dark in the smokehouse. It never fails to amaze me how much easier it is to confess things in the dark.

  “You were put in an impossible situation and given a heartbreaking decision to make. If you hadn’t been forced, would you ever have willingly come to me?”

  “No, not because I don’t care for you, but because I never would’ve considered cheating on Airen. I’d die before I’d hurt him.”

  “The same goes for me, Abby. I know I tease you and flirt with you, but I’d never ruin what you and Airen have together. I love both of you far too much. You’re a wonderful person, and you aren’t a cheater. If you want to explain to Airen exactly what happened, or if you want me to do it, I will. If you feel like you’re hiding it from him, perhaps it would ease your mind if he knew the whole story.”

  “That we came so close to making love? No. I think in his mind, we kissed a little, that’s all, and unless Troy explained about the undressing, he probably doesn’t even know we saw one another naked. Tell him that you had your mouth on my breast, your hand in my panties? That I had my hand wrapped around you?” I murmur, blushing hard and shaking my head. “I won’t hurt him just to alleviate my own guilt. Plus, I’m terrified I won’t be able to lie if he asks me...” I trail off.

  “Asks you?”

  “If I enjoyed it,” I reply, tears blurring my vision. This is the root of my guilty conscience, not exactly what we did, but that I wanted to do it.

  It’s Joseph’s turn to blush. His face glows pink, and I think he’s secretly pleased and trying not to advertise it. “Me too, honey. Even under those circumstances, being so close to you...it was wonderful. I won’t tell Airen anything you don’t want him to know, but please, don’t let this affect the bond we share. I don’t want this to put a wedge between us or ruin our friendship. I’d hate for you to start avoiding me because you’re uncomfortable or ashamed.”

  I shake my head. “Can we just pretend it never happened?”

  “We can try.”

  I gaze into those green eyes, so full of emotion. “I’ll never forget it.”

  “Oh, Abby, not even when I’m old and senile.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The house is crowded again. Joseph and Walker are sharing a room once more, as are Eric and Troy. At some point, Joseph and Airen intend to return to Evansville to procure additional solar panels and equipment. There are certainly plenty of houses near us for them to choose from.

  While Troy appears to be acclimating, Eric is struggling. He seems to be a nice guy, but he spends most of his time by himself. I think he feels like he doesn’t fit in here with us. I’ve noticed Airen goes out of his way to include him in conversations. A few days after our huge Thanksgiving meal, I really get to talk to Eric, and we’re astounded to discover we both grew up in Indianapolis.

  “You were born in Indy!” I exclaim, delighted.

  “Yeah.” He laughs. “I lived there my whole life.”

  “So did I! Well, until a few years ago.”

  “What side of town?” he asks.

  “West.”

  “You’re kidding! I grew up in Speedway!” How amazing, to meet someone from my hometown among the few survivors.

  “I’m from Haughville. Do you know it?”

  “The neighborhood around Michigan Street? The one you don’t walk through without a bullet proof vest?”

  “That would be the one.”

  “No wonder you’re so tough.”

  I scoff. “Dodging bullets and meth heads doesn’t make you tough. Still, you can understand why we left.”

  “Of course.”

  We end up talking late into the night. “What do you miss about Indy?” he asks.

  He hasn’t been gone as long as I have, and he’s obviously still homesick. After a few moments to consider it, I smile, remembering. “Georgetown Road on the night before the race.”

 
He grins from ear to ear. “Wildest party in the city.”

  “I’ve always loved it. The first time I went I was fifteen. I came home at four a.m. drunk and covered in mud from head to toe. I never missed a year after that.”

  “They cracked down the last couple of years. Cops would arrest the girls that flashed their boobs.”

  “There was always a line of guys hooting, and holding up Show Us Your Titties signs. What do you miss?”

  “Mostly, the noise. It’s so quiet here. I miss going to Deer Creek for concerts, bar hopping downtown, and the drive-in.” His pale face is melancholy.

  “You’ll get used to the silence. When we first moved here, it bothered me as well. I was so accustomed to hearing the planes roar overhead, the trains whistling and rumbling, shaking the windows, and the police sirens blaring, that I couldn’t sleep without it. We moved into town near the only set of railroad tracks, and I was thrilled to hear the train whistle.”

  “If you lived on the west side of the city, you definitely heard the planes. I suppose it’s a lot quieter in Indy now.”

  There’s a thoroughly depressing thought. “I guess so.”

  We sit in silence, pensively picturing the same sad cityscape. No planes roar overhead any longer, and the buses are still, the bars empty. The circle downtown, the museums, and the canal along White River all stand deserted while the neighborhoods slowly decay, and crumble into ruins. It’s gone.

  “You can’t go home again,” Eric mumbles.

  “This is a good place to call home, Eric. Give it some time.” He gives me a small smile. “I should go to bed,” I say reluctantly. “The kids will be up in a few hours.”

  “Good night, Abby.”

  “Good night.”

  It’s after three in the morning when I crawl into bed, trying not to wake Airen. I’ve never been accused of being stealthy.

  “Abby?” he asks. “Are you just coming to bed? What have you been doing?”

  “Eric and I were talking.”

 

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