Winter Castle

by Isla Jones

  Castle was on top this time.

  I shouldn’t, but I compare it to what it would be like with Leo. That’s awful of me, isn’t it?

  It’s not that I need to compare their skills; my own are rather ordinary. But with Leo, I would imagine it to be passionate. Lots of yanking clothes, bite marks, sweat and writhing—like something I would read in an erotic novel.

  With Castle, it isn’t like that. It’s normal. Not in a bad way, but in a safe way.

  The handful of times he kissed me on the bed, they were soft caresses grazing my skin. His body stuck to mine and moved slowly, keeping a pace—one that clutched us both. His forehead rested on mine, his hands pressed into the mattress; his body curved over me like a shield. In the routineness of it all, there was sweetness to be found.

  We weren’t porn-stars, we didn’t throw each other around in ridiculous antics. It was normal, it was safe, and it was sweet.

  It was exactly what I needed, and I quickly found all of the little clues that Castle left for me to discover. The clues were in the sweeping kisses that grazed my skin, the smoothness of his hands gliding along my arms, how his lips ghosted over mine. Through the daze of it all, I gathered the clues and I piled them together.

  I’m not Zoe. I’m Winter Miles—and I think Castle loves me.

  THE OTHERS

  ENTRY NINETEEN

  Castle and I emerged for dinner.

  Mac had made a huge pot of two-minute noodles. My lips puckered at the sight.

  Don’t get me wrong—two-minute noodles taste great. But my stomach does not agree with them, at all. Castle didn’t know that about me. He got us both a bowl of the chicken-flavoured noodles.

  Castle sat on the armchair. Vicki and Zoe fed Cleo at the dining table—Zoe kept side-eyeing me—and Adam sat with Mac on the couch. There was no other option than for me to perch myself on the arm of Castle’s chair.

  Before I’d even balanced the hot bowl on my legs, Cleo bounded off the table and raced towards me. Castle’s lap is where she chose to curl up. I’m certain he wasn’t comfortable with that, but he didn’t argue or nudge her off of him.

  I shimmied closer to him and tucked my legs between his.

  “Good day?” It was Vicki. Her knowing smile reached me from across the room.

  I hummed neutrally. “It would be great if I could wash properly.”

  That earned a ripple of agreement across the room.

  The sweat and grime on my skin called for a bath. It was made worse after sex; water and rags just didn’t do the job, and we were all out of wet towels. I’m certain Zoe took most of them during her hundred-a-day trips to the woods to relieve herself. She had a weak bladder, I assumed, or the nervous poops. I couldn’t blame her.

  But I could blame her for using up all the wet towels. The dirt clogging my pores needed them. I looked down at Castle and slurped noodles.

  As I chewed, I said, “I think we took the cabin for granted. I miss that lake.”

  “Cabin?” echoed Zoe. “What cabin?”

  “We stumbled across one in the state park,” I said. “That’s where we found most of our supplies. If we didn’t find that cabin, I doubt we would’ve made it here.”

  Castle stiffened. I’d wounded his pride. “Yes, we would have.”

  My eyes rolled and I shovelled more noodles into my mouth.

  Vicki smirked between us. “Well, I think it’s sweet,” she said. “Just the two of you, hidden deep in the wounds with only each other—”

  “Also sounds like the setting for a horror movie,” Adam interrupted.

  Through a mouthful, I said, “Given the whole end-of-the-world-crawling-with-rotters thing, I’d say we’re in one.”

  Vicki stretched her arms above her head. “So you two were in the forest,” she said, gesturing her head to Castle and I. “And we—” She dropped her hands and waved to Mac and Adam. “—were pushed further south. What about you Zoe?”

  Mac seemed to trace Zoe’s train of thought. “Did you take the main roads here? Did you see anyone on the way?”

  Zoe clasped her hands behind her head. If I did that, I’d look stiff and uncomfortable. It was natural on her.

  “I was all over the place,” she said. “Zig-zagging through towns and farms. Rotters were the only people I saw—not too many of them.”

  “I’ve noticed that,” I said. “Rotters are still around here, but I haven’t seen more than a dozen in this town.” My gaze shifted to Castle; he relaxed on the chair, and his eyes were already fixed on me. “D’you think they hate the cold?”

  “Possibly.”

  Cleo stiffened on Castle’s lap. Her ears stood and the hairs on her body prickled.

  “Something is wrong with your dog,” said Castle.

  “You can say her name, you know. It’s not taboo.” I shoved my empty bowl into his hands before I scooped up Cleo. “What’s the matter, girl?”

  Cleo growled in response. Her ears twitched, the way they do when she hears a mouse or a rabbit. Though, she’s not a hunter—she would run from both.

  “She hears something,” I said.

  Adam slapped his hands on his knees and stood up. “I’ll check it out.”

  “I’ll go with you,” said Mac. “It’s my turn to take watch.”

  At the meet-up point, we’d been quite slack with watch shifts. Whoever felt like it—mostly Adam—sat on top of the roof for a while. With such an open space between us and the woods, and how abandoned the shop looked, the threat wasn’t as dangerous as we were used to. I guess we took a break, so to speak, before the group grew in numbers again.

  Not that I thought it would.

  Adam and Mac left to check the perimeter.

  My eyes drifted to Zoe. Her neat fingernails drummed against the table-top. The sole of her boot tapped against the floor. It surprised me that she was anxious—Zoe didn’t strike me as the sort of person who was easily unnerved.

  “Zoe.” Castle’s low voice jolted me from my thoughts. My widened eyes gazed down at him. He stared across the room at his ex. “Mind if we talk for a moment? There are some things I’d like to go over with you.”

  Oh. It was that talk.

  A knot suddenly unfurled in my stomach. I hadn’t even realised it was there to begin with.

  Zoe gave a brisk nod and stood from the chair. Castle rose, and placed the bowls on the armchair. He turned to me and pressed his lips against my forehead—but before I’d even felt the touch of the kiss, he’d pulled away. My lips curved at him.

  Castle led the way to the door; Zoe at his heels. The corridor almost swallowed them up. Almost, but not quite.

  Adam came racing into the room and almost took Castle off of his feet.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Vicki, staggering to her feet. “Is it Mac? Is he ok?”

  Adam’s brown complexion had faded to a sickly grey. His eyebrows were knitted together, and his lips parted—he looked like a confused goldfish.

  “It’s the others,” he said. “They’re here.”

  “The others?”; “Who’s here?”; “What others?” Zoe, Vicki and I shouted at the same time.

  Castle grabbed Adam by the shoulder and curled his fingers into his t-shirt. “What others, Adam? Ours, or the defected?”

  A breathless sound came from Adam’s throat, like a whispered scoff. His lips spread into a brilliant grin. “Ours. Loads of them—they’re here.”

  Castle shoved by Adam and ran down the hallway. Vicki and I shared a look—a brief, fleeting look of stunned relief—before we ran out after them.

  Adam and Zoe were right behind us.

  Wakes up to the rumble of cars. It’s the others. She realises it doesn’t matter who’s there as Leo died and she cares about nobody else. She stays inside the shop and watches from the window. Castle gives her a longing look before he goes down to the street, Zoe follows him and something churns Winter’s stomach. She holds Cleo and watches through the window. She hears Vicki shout, it sounded like Leo, and she l
ooks around the group. There are … many, including … and … And then she looks at the RV—it could be the restricted one, she didn’t remember, and the door is open. Stepping down the little metal steps is a tall man, muscled, etc; It’s Leo.