Fierce Fighter: A Post Apocalyptic Survival Adventure (Drastic Times Book 1)

by R. A. Rock

  I sat up straighter and shook my head.

  “But don’t you see? You just did it again.”

  “Did what?”

  “Gave me the confidence to go and do the things I need to do. Figure out a way to get Zoe back. Solve the problem.”

  “You don’t need me for that, Chad,” she said, patting my knee and standing up. “I only speed up the process. You’d figure it out eventually.”

  I felt troubled.

  “I’m not sure I would.”

  “And that’s the difference between us. I have complete confidence that you will.”

  She smiled.

  “Why?” I said, trying to understand what made her believe in me so much.

  “Because I’ve known you for almost twenty years and you always figure it out. You always solve the problem. It’s just who you are. I don’t know why you can’t see that in yourself.”

  I stared at the rough wooden floor, thinking hard.

  “I need a shower. See you later,” she said, going out and shutting the door. The small room was dim once the door was shut and I lay back down on the bed.

  She’s wrong. I don’t get things done. I screw things up.

  And no pep talk from Yumi was going to change that.

  But as she walked across the yard, I heard her throw one more kernel of wisdom my way, this one from my mother. And she sent it telepathically.

  “Stop acting like a victim, Red. And take responsibility for your life.”

  I sighed. I hated when she — and my mother — were right.

  Neither of them ever let me wallow and this was no different.

  I sat up.

  It was time to make another plan to get Zoe back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  YUMI

  Later in the evening, I walked into the guesthouse and saw that the gang was all here. Grace was lying on the bed. When had she been moved to the guest house? Chad still looked morose after his failed mission. Audrey sat on a top bunk, her legs hanging down and swinging back and forth like a little girl.

  “What’s going on, Shiv?” I said.

  “Well, we only got back yesterday and then Gracie was sick and...”

  “And what?” I said, needing for him to get to the point.

  “And I just got around to looking at the bracelets.”

  I tilted my head, suddenly on the alert.

  “And?”

  “And…” He looked around at each of us. “They won’t activate.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. I don’t know what Brett did to them but they won’t even come on.” His voice sounded panicked.

  “Calm down, Shiv,” Audrey said, jumping to the floor and pacing back and forth. “What do they run on?”

  “It’s a form of rechargeable battery that uses ionic compounds…”

  Audrey held up her hand and he stopped the scientific explanation.

  “It’s like Matt’s solar power out there.” He pointed in the direction of their solar panels. “But on steroids.”

  “And where have you been storing the bracelets?”

  “In the closet.”

  “And where did you just look at them?”

  “In here.”

  “How long do they take to charge?”

  “About five minutes,” he said, understanding dawning in his eyes. He slapped his hand to his forehead. “I am such an imbecile.”

  “You’ve been under a lot of stress,” Grace pointed out, her voice sounding weak. I was so glad that she was conscious and over her infection. We had all been so worried.

  Audrey picked up one of the bracelets that was on the night table under the lamp and touched its activation point.

  The lights came on and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Thank goodness,” Shiv said. “Let me see.”

  He took the bracelet from Audrey and sat down on his bed in the corner, starting to poke at the bracelets and doing whatever tests on them that he had to do before we used them.

  “So, what’s the plan, then, now that we have the bracelets and they work?” Audrey said. “We go say goodbye and leave right now?”

  Chad frowned.

  “We promised them we’d help them get Zoe back and we haven’t. We can’t leave yet.”

  “Fucking do-gooders,” Audrey muttered, then spoke up. “Zoe is not your responsibility. This team is. It’s your duty to get us back safely to our time, Chad. So don’t go talking crazy about going on another raid to save Zoe. She’s not our problem. And they’ll get her back. No big deal.”

  “What about Hadley?” I said, giving her a look.

  Audrey pressed her lips together and looked conflicted. Good. She should be thinking ethically, not selfishly.

  “Who’s Hadley?” Chad said.

  We explained what the woman had told us and he looked as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

  “That’s why I couldn’t stop him,” he said. “At the prison camp. He would never have stopped, no matter what I did.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t get Zoe back. You couldn’t have. Not while that guy is guarding her.”

  “So, it won’t be that easy for them to get Zoe back,” Chad said. “Don’t go all Merrywell on us, Audrey. We have to help them.”

  “But we have Gracie back. And we have the bracelets,” Audrey said in a wheedling sort of tone. “We can leave. We can go back to having the Grid at our fingertips all the time.”

  “They call it the Internet in this time,” Shiv put in from his spot in the corner.

  “Whatever. We can go back to space travel.”

  “I hate space,” Shiv popped in again. “Too cold.”

  Audrey took a deep breath, obviously attempting to remain calm.

  “You can go back to your families,” she said.

  But her words didn’t have the intended effect.

  “We could,” Grace said, lifting herself on to one elbow. “But how could we do that, knowing that their family is broken and we could have done something to repair it?”

  “Aw, fuck. Once the redheads get their ethics on, it’s all over,” Audrey said, lifting her hands and then dropping them against her legs. She flopped down onto a bed and stared up at the ceiling.

  “It’s not just the redheads,” I said, going to sit beside her. “I agree we should stay and help, too. Because, really, what do you and I have to go back to anyway, Audrey?”

  She gazed into my eyes, listening now.

  “Gracie and Chad have their parents and Shiv has his mom and brother? Obviously they want to see them again. And they will. Because we’re going to go back.”

  “Yumi…” Grace said, her face troubled, but I didn’t stop.

  “But what’s the rush for us? What’s waiting back there for us?”

  Everyone looked solemn at my words.

  “Not our jobs. We just ceded all our authority over to the new governing panel.”

  She sat up, her eyes stormy. Her job had been everything to her.

  “Not our lives. The revolution took away all of that from us.”

  I faced Audrey.

  “You don’t have Dorian, Audrey. And we have no idea what happened to him. We will look. But right now we have no leads and an entire universe where he might be.”

  My gaze strayed to Chad’s face but I resolutely looked away.

  “There’s nothing for us back there. Nothing. So, we might as well stay here and help them out.”

  Audrey appeared uneasy but she didn’t say anything.

  “Um,” Shiv said, getting all our attention.

  “What, Shiv?” I said, getting tired of his inability to vocalize his thoughts.

  “It looks like the fucking bracelets are broken after all.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  YUMI

  We all sat around the table in Matt and Nessa’s kitchen, long after supper had been cleared and the moon had risen over the lake. Cynthia had brought out a b
ottle of her dandelion wine and everyone was a little tipsy. Chad had definitely had too much to drink and was blathering on about something or other.

  “Oh yeah, Justin Trudeau. My favourite Prime Minister ever. I loved him. In high school I went to this camp and you had to dress up as your favourite historical figure. It was great…” I watched as Chad put his foot in his mouth.

  “Historical figure?” Nessa said, confusion on her face.

  “He means contemporary political figure, of course,” Shiv said, laughing but I could see the worry in his eyes. “I think he had a little too much of your home-brew, Cynthia.”

  “Nice save,” I sent Shiv, with an image of us high-fiving. Although, as for that, it didn’t make much sense anyway, time wise. But nobody seemed to be worried about it.

  “Thanks. Now get him out of here before he completely blows our cover.” Shiv sent back, while starting up a conversation with Matt about their solar electricity set up.

  “Whoops, I think that’s your cue to go to bed, Chad,” I said, standing abruptly and yanking him to his feet. He swayed, his eyes a little glazed, and I realized that he was really drunk. “Come on. Good night, everyone.”

  “G’night,” Chad said, waving.

  There was a chorus of goodnights and then Chad put his arm around my shoulders and we exited the room. He leaned on me heavily and I hoped he wouldn’t pass out before we got to the guest house. He was a notorious light weight when it came to drinking and often had passed out at the most inconvenient times in the past.

  We stepped out of the house into the moonlight and Chad switched from English to Primary.

  “You’re bootiful, bee-youteeful… I mean, you’re really pretty, you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah, and you’re drunk.”

  He stopped suddenly and turned to me. I tried to ignore the intensity in his blue eyes, which looked black in the shadows but I couldn’t look away.

  “No, I mean it,” he said, blinking and trying to focus on me. “Your skin is so flawless and those eyes. Man, they’re like perfect almonds.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. My eyes were like almonds? A tiny smile appeared on my face. What a guy.

  “Such a smooth talker,” I said, trying to get him moving again but he wasn’t done.

  “And those lips. So red, even though you never wear make-up.”

  “Chad, this is inappropriate.” But he wasn’t listening.

  “And your body is so proportional. You’re strong but so soft. And those hips…” He sighed putting his hands on the aforementioned hips. I should have taken his hands off, but I didn’t. “Plus, your breasts are perfect.”

  “Completely inappropriate. You’re my team leader. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  I put his arm over my shoulders again and started walking.

  “Doesn’t change the fact that your breasts are perfect.”

  “Uh huh.”

  We somehow got into the guest house without falling down and I got him to his bunk. He stood beside it, though, instead of lying down.

  “Would you cuddle with me, Yumi?” he said.

  “Oh God, you are wasted, Chad. No, I won’t cuddle with you.”

  “Fine,” he said, pulling his shirt off.

  In the moonlight coming through the window, he was hot as hell and I lost my breath. Chiseled abs, strong biceps and a well developed chest. He smelled strongly of home-brew but my body responded anyway.

  I told my body to fuck off.

  “You need to lie down,” I said, using a no-nonsense tone.

  “I don’t want to.” His tone was closer to a five year old at bedtime.

  “Don’t make me beat you up, Red,” I threatened, faking a punch at him. I felt a tiny smile on my face. He used to love it when I beat him up.

  He blocked about a second too late.

  “See how drunk you are?” I said, faking another one. Sparring had been one of our favourite things to do back in the day. “Can’t even block a punch.”

  He caught that one, though, and all of a sudden we were sparring. I laughed and attacked. He clumsily blocked my punches till he stumbled into me and then we were wrestling. Suddenly, he had me pinned to the bed.

  “Chad. What the fuck? What are you doing? Get off me.”

  “I like it when you call me Red,” he said, not moving to get off.

  I could feel how much he wanted to “cuddle”.

  “The guy who was Red to me is long gone,” I said, anger making it easy to push him off of me. “It just slips out sometimes. We’re not… friends… anymore, Chad.”

  I stood up and he sat on the bed, staring at the floor.

  “I miss being friends,” he said, sounding forlorn.

  Oh fuck. I couldn’t take this. But I wasn’t going to lie to him. I missed it so much I could hardly breathe.

  “Me too,” I said. “But you screwed up. And we can’t come back from that. She’s as good as dead. And I can’t forgive you for that.”

  “She’s not dead.” And all of a sudden he looked a lot more sober when he met my eyes, than he had a moment ago. Had he been pretending? Nah. Chad wasn’t the type. He’s honest to a fault. The conversation was sobering. At least, I felt sober. Or like I wanted to die. Whatever. Same difference.

  “No. She’s not dead. It just feels like it. And I don’t know what would be worse. Having her actually be dead and being able to grieve? Or being in this hell of knowing she’s not dead but feeling like my guts have been cut open by that scimitar again and my life is slowly leaking out of me because I miss her so much.”

  “Yumi,” he reached out his hand towards me but I evaded it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. What else can I say? I can’t undo it.”

  “No, Chad, you can’t. And that’s why we aren’t… friends anymore.”

  We stared at each other without speaking for a long moment, the anguish between us a palpable thing.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered again.

  “I know,” I said, my voice harsh. “But it’s not enough.”

  I turned on my heel and walked from the room but I waited till I was deep in the forest before I started to cry.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  YUMI

  I sat down in the forest a couple minutes walk away from the house. The moss was as soft as a carpet but slightly more damp. I stared at the moon for a minute and then I lost it. I sobbed the way I hadn’t when I had first found out she was gone.

  Back then, I had only been numb. Everyone around me had been crying but I hadn’t felt a thing. As if I was frozen.

  Well, I was making up for it now.

  The pain was almost a physical thing in my stomach. I curled up into a ball on the ground, crying so hard it hurt. All of me hurt. And the only thing I wanted was to have her back. With me. How could she just be gone? It wasn’t possible.

  But somehow it was.

  And now I was so far away from her in time and space that she might as well be dead.

  Who knew if I would ever see her again?

  And the thought set me off again. Weeping as if my heart was broken.

  Which it was.

  ***

  Finally, I cried myself out. I wanted to feel ashamed of my outburst but I didn’t have the energy. I was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. All I wanted was to go to bed.

  I stood up and began to stumble back to the house but I got turned around.

  Shit.

  Where was the house?

  I started to walk and then stopped. I would only get more lost and I wasn’t thinking straight. I should just stay here. I could even sleep here, it wasn’t going to rain tonight. They would realize that I was gone and would come looking and they would find me.

  I wrinkled my nose.

  I didn’t want to sleep out in the woods.

  Without warning a shadow separated itself from the other shadows and I felt cold steel press against my throat.

  “Don’t move or you’re dead,” a low voice growled in my ear. There was
something about the way he spoke that seemed familiar but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  I stayed still.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here? And give me one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat right now.”

  “Uh,” I whispered not wanting to put any pressure whatsoever on that knife blade. He obviously kept it sharp. “My name is Yumi. I was just out getting some air and I got lost….” And why shouldn’t he kill me? Because I didn’t want to die?

  “You’re not from around here. You’re with Brett’s people, aren’t you?”

  I felt him add a little pressure and I knew that soon it would break the skin.

  “No,” I said a little too vehemently then repeated myself more quietly. “No. I’m not with Brett’s group. Do I look crazy?”

  “Well, you sure sounded like it with the muttering you were doing,” he said, then went on immediately. “Prove it, then. That you’re not with them.”

  I wracked my brain trying to think of a way to prove it. But I couldn’t think of anything, so I started babbling whatever I could think of that would keep him from slitting my throat.

  “How?” I said. “Tell you that I broke into his camp to get something he had stolen from me and my friends? Tell you that part of my team went with Matt to rescue a prisoner he has in his prison camp? Tell you that I almost killed him because he thought it was fun to beat up a woman who couldn’t fight back?”

  Suddenly the knife was gone and he spun me around till we were both in the moonlight. I could see his face and he could see mine.

  “That was you?”

  I frowned, taking deep breaths and feeling extremely thankful that all my blood was still pumping through my veins.

  “What was me?”

  I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the man in front of me. He was an aboriginal man with black hair, tan skin, and glasses. He was also gorgeous with full lips, a prominent jaw, and what looked to be a muscular chest under his T-shirt. And that was what had been familiar about his voice. He spoke perfect English but he had a tiny accent or way of speaking that reminded me of some Cree friends I had had when I was growing up with Chad and Grace in northern Manitoba — well, northern Manitoba four hundred years from now.