by Lilah Boone
Jim had pulled the blankets back to expose Kyle’s lifeless body. His lower half was covered in a pair of flannel sleeping pants, one leg of fabric cut off at the thigh.
Abby covered her mouth, let out a suffocated wail, as her eyes fell on the bandages wrapped around his leg. Dried blood caked the outside, having soaked through the layers of wrappings.
“Infection,” Jim said. “I’m not sure there’s anything we can do. He’s… I don’t think he’s breathing.”
A sound issued forth from deep within her, sorrow bouncing off the walls with a hollow echo.
Jake’s arm was still under her for support. He tilted to look at her and spoke in a near whisper. “You can heal him.”
“But he’s…”
“You have to try.”
She lifted her head, straightened her back then shrugged off the arm around her and stood beside Kyle’s bed.
One breath was all she needed to transition to the healing, blue light that always resided within her. She felt weak, already sapped from her previous effort as she watched her hands tremble. Hovering both palms over the wound, she poured everything she had into him.
His eyes flew open immediately, staring but not seeing. In the next instant he was squeezing them shut again while his body convulsed as though being tortured. His face contorted in agony and he reached for his leg. It took all four of the other men to hold him down while Abby continued to work.
She glanced at his face, read the searing pain in his wide, watery eyes and concentrated with all her power. Her vision started to blur. Images began to swim through her mind as she fought to stay on her feet. The past began to mingle with the present and she saw Callum standing on the shore as a boy with a wide innocent smiled fixed to his lips. Then time moved forward and he was standing next to the other priests as a young man, calling down the blessings of the gods and lighting the ritual fire.
One knee gave out and she dropped, keeping her hands over Kyle. She barely noticed the blood that dripped from her nose and over her lips.
She heard Kyle as though he were miles away. “Abby stop.” His raspy voice grew louder. “Stop.”
She ignored him, continued her efforts in desperation. She shoved all her strength into his leg, willing him to heal, to live. Until her body collapsed onto the cold floor.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Saturday, January 19th 2013, 3:28am
When Abby opened her eyes again there was only darkness surrounding her. The damp smell of concrete reminded her that she was in her bunk, exactly where she had been for nearly the past month. She was freezing. Her skin felt like she had been dunked in ice water and stored in a human sized cooler. A shudder rippled through her body as she leaned up on her elbows.
Instantly she noticed the throbbing pain in her head and the tightness in her limbs. Out of habit she lifted an arm to wave some light in front of her eyes. Sucking in her breath she stared at her fingers, turning her hand over and back again. The white light that usually surrounded her was nearly gone, faded to a weak glow she could only make out around her fingernails.
Memories flooded back; Kyle’s bunker, his wounded leg, the terrible pain that distorted his features, how badly she had wanted that pain to stop.
She flung open her curtain, squinted in the pale light floating in from the living area, before rolling out of her bed. And landing right on Alex.
She tripped, fell forward, catching herself on the bunk across the way. Alex grunted under her knees.
“Whoa, watch those little feet.” He stood up, gripped his gut. “I need that part.”
She tried to steady herself, felt the weakness in her bones. “Why are you sleeping on the floor?”
“We were worried. It’s my watch.”He gripped her arm, helped her to straighten to her feet.
She regained her balance, pushed the hair from her face. “So…” She glanced down at the floor. “I’m not crazy?”
“No. You were never crazy.”
Abby released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her chest heaved with the effort and her knees buckled underneath her weight.
Alex’s grip tightened on her arm. He was quiet while she breathed. “He’s out there.” He gestured towards the main room with a tilt of his head.
She looked up into his face, tears already forming at the edge of her lashes. “Is he…”
Alex didn’t need her to finish. “I’ll get him.” He pushed through the curtain, letting light and hushed voices in as he left her.
Her hands shook. She looked down, pressed them together, leaning into the double fist to alleviate the pressure in her chest. Her numb legs took her to the back of the bunk space and she propped herself on the edge of a bed, waiting. She examined her unfinished painting, studying the lines of color to distract her from the ball of anxiety hanging in her throat.
Light filled the room as he stepped past the curtain. She breathed, willing air into her swollen throat. Her eyes remained downcast, almost afraid to look at him; afraid he might disappear again.
She felt him standing beside her, saw the shimmer of light playing off his bare feet. Finally she turned, drew her gaze up him from his toes, over his body until she reached his face. She continued to avoid his eyes, instead wandering over the rest of his features.
After a moment she stood, finally met his gaze as her lips trembled and a small sob trickled from her throat. She blinked back immanent tears and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest. There was no anger in her words when she finally spoke. “How could you do that to me? How could you let me think you were dead?”
He spoke softly, gently rubbing her hair. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
She reached up, gingerly brought a hand to his freshly shaven cheek, and felt the spark she remembered from his touch. He caught her hand, brought it between them as he wrapped her in his arms.
A downpour of tears streamed over her cheeks as he cradled her head tightly into his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
She let her tears fall, losing herself in his arms, listening to his heart beat against her cheek. He was warm and breathing. He was alive. Thank you, Abby thought, not knowing who or what she was indebted to.
When she could breathe again, she pushed away tenderly and looked up at his face. “Tell me what happened.”
He nodded as he sat on the edge of the bunk. Abby did the same on the opposite side, watching as he eyed her. He looked tired, weak. Dark circles encompassed his eyes, his cheeks sunken just noticeably. He leaned forward, rubbed his palms up and down the top of his thighs once before speaking.
“The night we went to the meteor, my vision was different than the one you had. I saw the people coming, saw them forcing their way into the bunker. There was shooting. You and a few of the others were hit. The last thing I saw was you lying in the ash. Bleeding. Dying. I couldn’t allow that to happen.” He paused, watched her face. “So when we got back to the house I wrote you the letter, told Alex and Jim what they needed to know, and went to sleep beside you with a plan forming in my head.”
Abby took a second to absorb his story. “I wish you would’ve told me what you saw. I could’ve helped you.”
His eyes held a plea. “It was my vision, my responsibility. I had to make the vision change, put myself in your place. Not get you involved and risk it all coming true. That last morning…” He clenched his eyes shut, opened them again to look at her. “I was trying to make it easier for you. You don’t remember the past the way I do Abby. I lost you once. You and the children. I couldn’t face that again.”
“The children,” she whispered. She closed her eyes, sifted through the pieces of memory in her mind. “We had twin girls.”
“Esree and Mayra.” His voice was heavy. “They had your eyes and my smile. They were smart, beautiful, and loved to listen to me tell stories.”
“I remember them, but not clearly. I think they had blonde hair. Didn’t we have a son as well?” She smiled
at the vision in her mind. “Yes, he was just a baby, chubby and happy.” She suddenly remembered the sensation of nursing her little boy, felt the sharp pain of loss in her heart.
“His name was Callum also.” Kyle rubbed his temple. “Be grateful you don’t remember them as clearly as I do. Sometimes I feel like I was Callum just yesterday. I remember everything. That’s probably why I was in so much pain after that first touch. In a matter of minutes an entire lifetime was shoved into my head.” He pressed his temple as if remembering the pain. “And now I think I understand why people don’t generally get to recall their earlier incarnations. It’s too painful to know what’s been lost, what you can never have again.” After a moment, he continued with their present conversation. “I would’ve rather been dead than lose you again.”
“I didn’t want to lose you either Kyle. What made you think I would be able to do all this on my own while grieving for you?”
“You’re stronger than I am Abby. I knew you would be okay. You didn’t have the same memories of… us. It wasn’t as intense for you.
“Just because I don’t have as many details as you do doesn’t mean I don’t have the same feelings.”
“Yes, but I thought since I had distanced myself a little that you would move on.” He looked away. “And you did.”
She didn’t argue with him, didn’t want to tell him how she had wished she had died when the end came. And she certainly couldn’t tell him how many times she had considered it since that terrible day.
“Don’t think that Abby. I wanted you to go on even if I wasn’t there to be with you.”
“I didn’t mean for you to hear that, but it’s true nonetheless. I wanted to die with you.” She spoke without shame, shrugged as though thinking about her own death had become commonplace. “Anyway, why didn’t you tell me you were alive from the start?” “I didn’t know how long I could hold on. I knew I was pretty bad off. I tried cutting the buckshot out a few times, but there was no way. It was too deep.”
Abby tightened, imagining him cutting his own skin open and mining for tiny pieces of metal embedded in the layers of flesh. Suddenly she was gripped with the urge to touch him and make sure he was really there.
Kyle continued. “An infection was inevitable, no matter how hard I tried to keep it clean. I wanted to tell you, but if you thought I was dead anyway then it didn’t matter. No one would ever know the difference.” His voice broke but he regained it quickly. “You started getting better, started moving forward. I didn’t want to cause any more pain or give you false hope.”
He paused, their eyes meeting for a long moment. “I woke up for a little while yesterday, long enough to tell you where I was. I knew the levels had gone down, were almost normal, and I realized it was my only chance.”
She was quiet for a long time before she found the courage to speak. She couldn’t look at him when the words finally left her mouth. “Where does all of this leave us then?”
He stood, favoring his leg, fiddled with the brushes she had left along the easel. “We need to stay down here for at least a few more days until the radiation goes down another notch or two. Hopefully the temperature will go up as well. And you need to recover your strength before we go back up and start rebuilding.” He rubbed his bad thigh. “I guess we both do.”
She stood, took a step towards him. “I meant where does that leave us?”
“Oh.” He looked down, scratched a finger between his brows and let out a nervous laugh. His eyes tipped up, looking at her from beneath his lashes. “I didn’t sleep in the chair that night because… because I didn’t have the strength to resist having just one night to hold you. In the morning…” He breathed through his mouth deeply, looked away and back again. “…getting shot in the leg was easier than pushing you away.”
She forced back more tears, slipped her hand into his and leaned against his chest. She shivered and sunk into him.
He pressed his lips to her forehead, rested his chin in her hair. “You need more sleep.”
She shook her head. “No, I… I don’t want to close my eyes. I’m afraid this will end up being a dream.”
“It’s okay.” He brushed the back of his fingers along her jaw. “I’m here now and I’m never leaving you again. We’re a package deal, remember? I go where you go.”
They stepped the small distance to Abby’s bunk and she climbed in, moving against the wall to make room for him. She watched him struggle with his leg as he lay down beside her and pulled her close into the crook of his shoulder.
“What happened to the people who tried to take the bunker?” Abby asked.
“I had to fire on them.” His body tensed. “The others… they died when the end came.”
“Where did the other shelter come from?”
“So many questions.” He laughed against her hair. “I had it put in when I upgraded the other one.”
She looked up at him. “How did you know what was going to happen then?”
“I didn’t. Just a gut instinct. A backup plan.”
That satisfied Abby. It wouldn’t be the first time his gut had proved useful. She scooted closer, threw one leg over his.
He let out a quiet groan.
“Oh. I’m sorry.” She removed her leg quickly but carefully. “Does it hurt much?”
“Nah, not too bad. Hanna is going to work on it again later.” One of his hands trailed up her spine while the other traced the shallow scars along her forearm. “How are you?”
She yawned in response.
He huffed out a soft chuckle, kissed the top of her head again. “Sleep then. You have a lot to teach me tomorrow.”
Abby closed her eyes, tucked her arms in between them. “Kyle,” she murmured.
“Hmm?”
“What if it doesn’t come back… the light?”
“It will.” He pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. “No more worries. Go to sleep.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Tuesday, January 22nd 2013, 11:56am
Abby felt the light brush of sable against her cheek as her eyes fluttered open. She felt the paintbrush move of its own accord along her cheek, down the length of her jaw, finally resting in the hollow of her throat.
She lay on her back, the curtain open like it always was lately, enough to see Kyle leaning up on one glowing yellow elbow and looking serious from his own bunk across the lane. His hand was in the air, two fingers twirling as the brush spun pirouettes along her collarbone.
They had cleared the two bottom beds in the back of the sleeping area so they could doze off close by each other every night. They chose the back so they could whisper if they wanted to without bothering the others too much. It was as close as they typically got lately.
They had agreed to take their relationship slow, at least for the duration of their stay in the bunker. Neither of them wanted to be on display in front of the other seven people they lived with. Not to mention getting physical wasn’t necessarily a comfortable idea considering their privacy was seriously lacking.
Abby wasn’t sure she cared about privacy. What she felt for Kyle was so powerful, it seemed at times like nothing else mattered but being close to him. Kyle had said knowing they were not alone would only be a distraction. More distractions, Abby thought. The man simply couldn’t multitask at all.
Both of them were frustrated with their circumstances, but Abby felt her will power quickly waning. Kyle had been the one to stay reasonable, suggesting they sleep in separate beds, and more or less stay out of physical contact. With the exception of the occasional touch or innocent kiss, expressing their feelings for each other in the old fashioned way had been put on hold.
Just knowing he was only feet away from her every night was torture. There had been more than one occasion where she thought she might give in and jump into his bunk. Abby had never possessed the virtue of patience and she just plain hated waiting.
Her shirt lifted just an inch and the soft bristles found their way around her
bellybutton. She met his gaze, exhaled slowly, knew her thoughts were written on her face.
The brush suddenly flew away from her. He caught it with a snap before a subtle motion of his hand returned her shirt to its place, covering her skin.
He sent her a knowing grin, shrugged. “I was getting sick of calling your name to wake you.”
She took a breath, struggled momentarily to collect her composure. Never in her life had a man been able to stir her the way that Kyle did. It felt at once incredible and torturous. She didn’t just want him physically. It was his soul she wanted to touch, to combine with her own until they were one thing.
His grin broadened into a lopsided smirk as he watched her. “It’s time to wake up now. Everyone’s getting ready.”
“Oh, that’s right. Big day.”
In a short time they would be surfacing for the first time as a group, though not for good. There was a ton of work to be done before they could move their residence from the bunker permanently, but today was the day they began the preparations for their future above ground.
Kyle had been right. Her light had returned within a day and together they were learning how to use their abilities. She taught him how to use the extra powers she’d discovered and he taught her how to control her thoughts better. This, he said, would only allow him to see and hear what she wanted him to as opposed to being the open book of information she’d been before.
Abby sighed, looking over his bare chest with longing. She just wanted to touch him, feel his warmth, take in his scent. “You’re going to be the death of me I think.” He chuckled deep in his throat.
“You? Believe me, I wish we were above ground, lounging in my bed all day and through the night.”
“Hmm… sounds lovely.” She got out of her bed and went to sit on the edge of his. Her index finger trailed from his throat to his belly button. “We have some time now.”
He took her hand, brought it to his lips. “This is too important, Abby. You’re too important. It should be right.”