by Shay Savage
“You want me to tell you everything,” she says, “but you won’t even admit to who you are. Why should I trust you with what I know?”
“Is that what it’s gonna take?” I ask.
“It is.”
“Fine.” I swallow hard. Just thinking the words, let alone saying them, is painful. “I’m Theodore LaGrange, and my father is the President of what’s left of the United States. Happy now?”
“Not really, but glad you aren’t going to keep pretending.”
“No one can know who I am,” I say darkly. “If they did, they wouldn’t trust me anymore. If they don’t trust me, I can’t help them.”
“Is that what thieving does? Help people?”
“I’m not a thief,” I tell her. “I’m the head of lost and found.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I find things people have lost. You know, the things they need but can’t find. I find them, and I give them to the people who need them.”
“So, what…”—she pauses and narrows her eyes at me—“you’re playing Robin Hood? Is that it?”
“Again with the literary references.” I click my tongue at her. “If you’re going to keep trying to pass yourself off as a Naught, you’re going to have to stop that.”
“Way to dodge the question.”
“Just sayin’.” I tilt my head at her.
“Is that really what you do?” she asks. “Give away all the stuff you steal?”
“Most of it. I always trade though. I don’t give it away. If I gave it away, people would be suspicious, and I wouldn’t get what I need. Naughts also have their pride, and they won’t always accept something for nothing. It makes them distrustful. This way, I can steal things that won’t be missed by Thaves but are invaluable to Naughts, and I get what I need to live.”
“But you don’t like having any competition,” she says. “There are things I need, too.”
“I couldn’t let you take those things,” I tell her. “I couldn’t let you take batteries and coins. People would have noticed. If they notice what you take, they’ll pay more attention to their inventory. I would be discovered. If I’m discovered, how am I going to help the Naughts in Plastictown?”
“You haven’t been paying attention,” she mutters.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Later.” She shakes her head. “I should tell you about this place first.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms and try not to be too annoyed about her leading the conversation in another direction.
Aerin takes a deep breath and runs her hands through her hair before she starts to speak.
“This complex is called Rock Mountain, and it used to be kind of a sister location to Mount Weather—science based, not military based.”
“How do you know about it?”
“My mother is a geologist. She worked here.”
“When?”
“About thirty years ago,” she says. “It was before I was born. She told me all about this place, and she gave me a map to find the back entrance, which is where we came in.”
“That’s how you knew the combination?”
“Yes.”
“But this isn’t the first time you’ve been in here, is it?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been looking around here for the last couple of weeks.”
“You’ve been living here,” I say as I point to the bed.
“Yes, I have.”
I sit down on one of the metal chairs and motion for her to continue.
“Most everything of value is gone,” she says. “I haven’t been all over the complex—it’s huge—but I’ve been through enough of it to know there isn’t much left. This room with the bed and the kitchen area is about the biggest find I’ve made. The western side though…that’s where things get interesting but not because of what’s inside the mountain.”
She stops speaking for a moment as she takes a few breaths.
“I should take you there,” she finally says. “There really isn’t much of a choice, but it’s going to take a while to get to the other side.”
“How far is it?”
“Nearly fifteen miles.”
“Are you serious?”
“There are other entrances,” she says, “but most of them have been blocked by rockslides. The only ones that aren’t blocked are the shaft where we came in, the entrance on the western side of the mountain, and one other shaft to the north. There are probably others, but this complex is huge, and I only have a partial map.”
“How far away is the north shaft?”
“Not as far,” she says, “but I need you to see what’s on the other side.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise, you aren’t going to believe me.”
“If we’re going that far, we should both probably rest. There’s water here. That’s a major bonus.”
“It’s still full of ash,” she says. “It could even be contaminated.”
“Does the stove work?” I ask, pointing over at the cooking area.
“I tried to turn it on when I first got here, but nothing happened.”
I stand up and walk over to the electric stove. I flip the dial, but the stove doesn’t light up. I look around the back, find the plug and corresponding outlet, and plug it in. A light comes on immediately.
I look back at her and raise my eyebrows.
“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes and looks away from me. “I don’t know why I didn’t try that.”
“Always go for the easy solution,” I say with a wink. “We can boil the water. Should be easy enough to get what we need to get to the other side.”
“That’s going to take some time.”
“Not a lot.” I smile at her. “It will give us a chance to eat, rest, and maybe even get to know each other a little.”
She rolls her eyes and exhales with a huff.
“I’ll take care of water,” I say, “and you can cook up some dinner.”
“What kind of sexist bullshit is that?” Aerin asks.
“Not sexist at all,” I reply with a grin. “I just don’t want to poison you with my cooking.”
I open cabinets until I find a saucepan, fill it with water, and then place it on the stove while Aerin shuffles around in another cabinet full of canned goods.
“You haven’t told me why you came here,” I say.
“I think the explanation will be easier when you see the other side,” Aerin replies.
“Before you came here, you hadn’t seen the other side. There has to be something you can tell me.”
She places a can on the counter and looks over at me.
“I don’t know if I can trust you,” she says softly. “You’re LaGrange’s son. For all I know, you’re a spy.”
“I’m a spy? For my father?” I laugh. “If you know who I am, then you have to have some idea of what he did to me.”
“Not really,” she says. “I know you got into some trouble with some of your public speeches, but then you dropped off the map, and he said you were dead.”
“What did he do?” I ask. “Hold a press conference and tell everyone I’d met with some horrible accident?”
“Basically,” she says. “He said your work with the Naughts exposed you to a virus, and you died in the hospital due to complications.”
Another brief memory flashes inside my mind.
“What is that?” I asked as another needle was inserted into my arm. “I’m not due for meds!”
“Doctor’s orders.” The nurse gave me a tight-lipped smile. “You just need to relax.”
“No…” My brain started to go fuzzy and my limbs felt heavy. “Already had seda…sedative. Can’t…”
“Just close your eyes,” she said. “You’ll be asleep in no time.”
Even then, I knew that they were doing it on purpose. Through my drugged, clouded mind, I knew they were giving me too much.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I mutter.
“Obviously, that didn’t happen,” Aerin says. “So, where did you go?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say. “What matters is that I ended up in Plastictown. If you’re worried about me being a spy, that should pretty much alleviate your concern.”
She stares at me for a long moment, studying my face. I look right back at her, unwavering. If this is the direction she wants to go, I’m prepared for it.
“You once stood at the end of Capital Street and told everyone that the government was systematically trying to wipe out Naughts,” she says. “Do you still believe that?”
“Yeah,” I reply. “I do. I had plenty of evidence, too.”
“Evidence is important,” she says with a nod.
“Apparently, it’s important enough to have me declared dead.” My throat tightens and I clench my teeth. I don’t know why this is upsetting me now. It’s been years since I last saw my father—and I thought these feelings were gone.
Does he think I am dead, or was it all just to cover up what he’d done? Did he tell people I was dead while I was still incarcerated or not until after I’d escaped?
“You hate him, don’t you?” she asks quietly.
I just shake my head, unwilling to look at her. I’m too tense, and the pressure behind my eyes is threatening to give way. I don’t want her to see me like this, and I’m afraid that if I look at her, I won’t be able to control myself.
“My mother sent me here,” she finally says.
I swallow hard and take a deep breath before I let her words sink in.
“Sent you? “Why would she send you here?”
“She still works for the government,” Aerin says. “She found out what was happening in the West, and she sent me here to find proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“You know how they told us the West was recovering? How they always said it was just a matter of time before we would be able to expand back to the other side of the mountains, and the land would be useful again?”
“Yes.”
“It’s all a lie,” she says. “There is no West anymore.”
Chapter 10
Having Aerin cook was a good call. Aside from my own lack of skills, the stew she comes up with from a bunch of cans is fantastic.
“What did you do?” I ask her with my mouth full. “This is incredible.”
“Not too tough to make it tasty when you have access to salt and pepper,” she says. “Otherwise, it’s just a bunch of stuff thrown together. The seasoning is what makes it tasty. Found a container of oregano, too.”
“Yeah, I can taste that.”
“The boiled water also helped,” Aerin says. “No ashy aftertaste.”
“This is so good.” I take several more bites. “We can skip the traveling. Let’s just stay here forever. If you’re willing to cook like this, I’ll do anything and everything else!”
“Not gonna happen.”
“Aw, why not?” I give her my best pouty face and then immediately wonder if I look cute or just pathetic. I suck my lower lip back into my mouth and glance away, trying to figure out just when I started to care about how a woman perceives me.
“Because the canned food is only going to last about three days.”
“I guess that’s a valid reason.” I watch her for a moment as she finishes her meal and takes the bowl to the sink. “Are you ever going to explain your comment about the West?”
“No,” she says, clinking dishes in the sink. She turns on the water and rinses them off. “You’ll see it when we get there.”
“Quite the tease, aren’t you?”
“You can do your own dishes, then.” She looks over her shoulder and raises an eyebrow at me.
I don’t know why that look goes straight to my dick, but it does. Every fucking time. She uses that look a lot, and it’s becoming embarrassing. I can only hope she hasn’t noticed as I fidget in my seat, take the last couple bites of stew as well as a couple of deep breaths, and then stand up and wash off my own dishes as she walks over to the bed.
“We should get a few hours of decent sleep,” Aerin says as she sits down on the bed and grabs her pack from the floor. “If possible, I’d like to get most of the way there tomorrow.”
“How do you even know what time of day it is now?” I ask.
“I don’t, really. Just guessing. We were maybe three hours from daybreak when the quake hit. I think we were stuck in the shaft for about five hours.”
“We were never actually stuck,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. “We could have gone in at any time.”
“Whatever.” She waves her hand dismissively before going back to rummaging in her pack. “We’ve been in here six hours, maybe seven. It’s probably late afternoon or early evening, and neither of us slept well.”
“All this stuff and no clock?” I look around the room as if I might have missed something like that before.
“I think there was one on that wall.” Aerin points to a spot above the dresser where I can see a dim, round outline on the painted wall. “Could have been, anyway.”
“Maybe a mirror.”
“No one would have a mirror that small.”
“No woman would have a mirror that small.” She gives me the eyebrow look again, and my skin tingles.
“I think you say things like that just to get a rise out of me,” Aerin says.
“Gets a rise out of me, too,” I mumble.
“What was that?” She looks up from her pack and narrows her eyes.
“Nothing.” I grin and nod over to the bed. “So, uh, what are the sleeping arrangements going to be?”
She eyes me for a full minute and a half—far longer than is comfortable—then shrugs.
“I guess it’s not going to be any closer than last night. I’d definitely prefer it if you showered before bed, but I get it first.”
“A shower?” All thoughts of curling up on the bed with her vanish from my head. “Are you saying there’s an actual shower here?”
“Sure is. Hot water, too.”
Thoughts of being in bed with her take a drastic turn to thoughts of warm, soapy water flowing over her body. I turn away from her and pretend to mess around with the dishes some more, worried she’ll see my face and know exactly what’s on my mind. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I should be imagining what my own shower will feel like, not thinking about how she might look with bubbles rolling over her back and shoulders.
“I won’t be long,” she says.
I’m getting long. And hard.