by Marlin Grail
I cannot help but feel understanding to it as well.
“Hey, you will never be a liability to this group; you have never been and never will be.” I tell her, emphasizing my tone on specific words.
I turn my body to meet her eyes. We gaze at each other for a few seconds, and I admire all the unique features on her hardened, but delicate, face. Her cheekbones draw my focus, along with her delightful, soft-edged, lips.
I must show my honest feelings more, and this I can improve on—with this margin of very few, but long, seconds.
“Lissie…” I say, with a committed ideal of leaning in and making my feelings for her concrete.
She, though having the same ideals glistened in her eyes, seems more unprepared for this moment than I am. “I'm sorry.” She whispers, emotional in her tone. Though she desirably wants to reel in my lips towards hers, she denies this to complete, as she turns her head away. “I thought I was ready for this.”
I suggest to her it is okay. “I was taking a leap of faith by enacting what I did.”
Getting up from the stone, she chuckles, looks back up at me, and says, “Let's grow on it, huh?
I nod in agreement, wanting to immediately switch back to the sanguine figure I was earlier today, but I struggle with erasing the detailed image of her face from my head. I walk each step to the shelter with weak knees, letting her be upfront so it's not that exposed. She does not seem to have much difficulty quickly transforming back to how she is known to be—distant and centrifugal and far from being the focus of the attention. She opens the door, and lets me go in first. I give a smile, trying for it to just remain friendly.
Try and think about tomorrow, like you have been.
I command this thought in my mind until it feels like a roar—possibly very powerful, for Lissie glances at me one more time with shyness. We go inside the shelter to close down all of the unexpected events of today, with nothing else to do but rest.
Chapter XV
(Lissie)
This night has its difficulties for me when it comes to closing my eyes and just falling asleep. Gary has a new bed now, thanks to Will's crazy actions. I'm not really that upset from him leaving, because, ever since I met him, he never showed the kindness of a gentlemen, and I've known more men who behaved incredibly repulsive, but who still tried to have had courtesy of others.
Maybe that's why I found Gary so charming when he introduced himself for the first time. Sure, he got on my nerves a few times, but it was only because he seemed to actually want to challenge my way of being around others. I suppose my courtesy level is the same as Will's.
I lived on my own ever since I was young—very young, and even in these several months of what is considered the apocalypse, I took what I could and moved on, using what skills I had before this worldwide catastrophe. Most of them were physically-stimulating skills with men who saw some fun coming their way, but of course most men never know the danger of a woman's capable trickery.
I thought I was going to have to do the same with this group when I first met them, especially when I noticed Harold's behavior. My code was to get what I could, and forget what I had to do or say to get it all—while also forgetting those people. Harold stood trying to tantalize me on an almost daily basis, but while he became a negative imprint in that point in time, I also met some of the people I have known in my adult life that don't deserve my instinctive nature.
I entered the RV for the first time, where I saw it all being nicely furnished, but right out of the gate I could tell, Gary, Ashton, and Janice looked as though even they had trouble calling it their home.
“How long have you been here?” I asked Gary, as he was walking behind me.
“About a month.” He responded, casual, but a casual that was awkward.
Ashton, to the right of me, stared uncertain—not because he wanted to hurt me, but because someone, or more than one person, was here he was willing to harm for. The other groups with men I bounced from always seemed to be out for themselves, specifically when they saw a girl like myself, but Ashton, though looking like those men I encountered, immediately caught me by surprise when he took all of his attention onto Gary, asking if I did anything bad to him.
“She is friendly Ashton, and is giving our operation a chance.”
At the time, I was very biting to him. “You don't know that!” I barked, turning around to fire my temper.
When I did, his sharp features and non-deceiving expression, again, caught me off guard. I then heard a friendly, easygoing, voice come from the left room. An older, but healthy-looking woman walked her way to meet me. “Thank you, thank you so much!” she said with happiness.
“For what?” I asked in a harsh tone.
“For letting your instincts about us change your mind about your actions. I'm Janice.” She said, enthusiastically excited to have shaken my hand.
I had not seen another girl without seeming jealous, or superior of me, so, often times, it got to a point where I didn't give my name, or real one that is—let alone even glance in their direction. Given what Janice had showed, it felt out of my right-mind to deny this older person the respect they deserved.
“Lissie.” I said back, offering my hand to her.
I only spent a few weeks in the RV, which was the last for everyone else in the group, but it came closer for me when one straw got pulled too far. For sure, Gary ticked me off, but mostly because, deep down, I felt I was being influenced by his extraordinary perception of where we were in life, so I still was allured. On one hand, I found his persona sickening, since no other man I had known showed what he does. On the other hand, I never saw his dissemination of perseverance as anything other than inspirational.
I'm so surprised that, even after the poor way I've treated him, he still tried to reveal an interest he has in me—and I irrefutably have for him. I cannot deny it was tempting, but as much as he has shown the ability to handle the complications of leading a group of 'dysfunctionals', as Harold used to say, could Gary actually handle the complications that come with me alone?
I know this world can be lonely, however I've been comfortable with loneliness, so I worry with what risks would come with us becoming an item. I assume time will tell. No doubt though, after all that being said, Gary was not the one who pulled the straw, but it was Harold. He tried, but also failed at receiving the same confession of desire. Unlike Gary though, he did not take too kindly to the rejection.
It's all in the past now.
I continuously tell myself this, but I know, eventually, I'm going to have to share what happened to somebody here.
I know whoever I share it with will be the best person I have in my life.
My liquefying eyes want to just leak without control, but the stubbornness I have will never let myself feel for what I think is my wrong doing and my fault. Janice, and Gary, have been helping me get out of that thinking, but the short amount of time they've been in my life is tough to combat the years that wedged the belief everything that was wrong was my blame.
If only they were here for me earlier on. If I knew where my life was going, where the world was going, I would've told myself I'm not the problem. I need to try and just… think about tomorrow.
My unconsciousness creates various, weird, dreams of things—ranging from paranormal to just plain odd—comes to an end while waking up to a fresh, new, day, which felt like it came in the speed of minutes.
My first sight is quickly drawn down to Gary's movement. He seems to have been awake for a while, longer than the rest of us. I begin moaning, from stretching my legs, which I should have known would grab his attention. “Good morning.” He says with a polite tone.
“Hey. How'd you enjoy not laying on the floor?” I jokingly insert, as a way to try and make us not feel unpleasant around each other.
He chuckles, assuring me he did better sleeping than the night we arrived here. My eyesight is regaining focus, and now laying my upper weight on my elbow, my eyes automatically dr
aw to his white, tight-fitted, shirt. It's not the cleanest, but I'm more glad to see dirt and grime on his clothing—for it proves how hard his efforts are versus someone having a spot-free and clean appearance.
I raise my view from his body to his facial hair, which is already growing to a shadowy-stubble. The last time he shaved was probably several days before the ambush happened. “You gonna be good not having a baby face?” I ask.
He delicately grabs his under-jaw. “I suppose I became contented with having a bathroom and razor to manage it, but there are more weights going on right now.”
I always thought it was charming of him to deeply explain in great length something as simple as a 'yes' or 'no' question. Those responses probably come in an instant to his mind.
He already has his sword placed behind his back. I do not know who else we've come across with a slick, sharp, medieval sword, just equipped right behind them most of the time.
I think, deep down, he gets tickled by the idea that he stands out in some way, but I do not think he is egotistical about it by any means.
That's the major element I've noticed of Gary—there's not just one-layer to him, and he has a complexity like no one else I've known, or maybe they also did, except they just didn't take to having that obvious to others.
I can tell he deals with constant chitchat in his mind, and I do too, but I would imagine his thoughts launch further beyond what goes on in the moment, whereas I have proven to be more impulsive based on short-term thinking. Such an intricate man he is, and maybe he finds me intriguing on the same level too.
If that's the case, then hopefully he can help me see the deepness of my soul, no matter how reluctant I may be to listen with what he sees.
Janice has begun to dig at the surface, but she's been able to only go so far, and she begrudgingly accepts that. A true friend she's become. Again, I'll just have to see who becomes the most important person in my life, and right now, I think Gary is leagues ahead from Janice, for he is growing on me as my potential best friend, and my potential best love.
My heart can only hold 1 space for another, and anything that would happen to them would happen to me. I would imagine if they died, I would die too, but, truth is, I'm not ready to think about death anytime soon. Love has always been morbid for me, so I find the romance in thinking of the one who would suffer with me did it because it was worth the time we shared, before the tragedy struck.
Is Gary and his face's stubble up for that complex of mine?
I go ahead and switch the gears in my brain. “Damn am I hungry.” I say, vocalized, but just to be zany. I reach down, under Janice and mine's bunk, where one of the bags is placed. Now sitting on my bed, crossing my legs, I have the bag on my lap, and I open the main compartment to see what types of food remain. I look over to Gary's and Ashton's bunk, but I don't see Ashton in it, or in the shelter. “Where did my stooge go?” I ask Gary.
I don't see Ashton less than at all, and Gary knows that. Ashton's actually been growing on me, like a big brother to mess with, whenever I need a lift in spirits.
He's been lucky these last several days, for we haven't had the appropriate time, or encouragement to banter back and forth. Things might begin to lighten up today, considering that both him and Gary came across more that suggests the world's not entirely against us.
“He needed to use the bathroom. Actually, if you need to as well, you should go relatively soon, for I do not know when we will be called and when we will be expected to leave.” Gary explains in his typical monotone.
I munch a bit on some chips I have ripped open, and drink some water from a small bottle. The whole time, Gary just watches the outside—from the border between it and the inside. Janice begins to wake up, bouncing right out of her bunk, after seeing the rest of us all done with our sleeping. “Have you heard anything yet, Gary?” she asks.
“Nothing, but there is bound to be a voice that comes in soon, so I would suggest you get prepared for the day.”
She climbs down from the top bed, and goes to put on the worn-out socks she has, and her outdoor boots that come up to her knees. I offer her some food from the bag, and she delightfully reaches in—making a gamble of whatever food she grabs.
She sits down next to me on my bed and looks at the peanut butter crackers, but something has popped in her mind, because she begins to have an expression of immense thought. “Lissie, I'm curious… do you feel any remorse eating and drinking belongings that once belonged to someone else?”
I find that interesting, because she was the one who influenced us to take the bags.
“These supplies are very valuable to us, and if they were to whoever else buried them, then they wouldn't have been buried in the first place.” I respond, seeming ruthless in my answer, but simply being blunt of my opinion.
“Sure. Back when we were without, I was in more of a survival mentality. I still am, but I'm saying, back then, it became more urgent. I just hope whoever they may be are much better off.”
Usually, I'm the one who seems the bluest, and Janice is the guide out of that heaviness, but I don't get that same feeling of strength in her right now.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't make things dim around here. If only we could care for everyone.” She says out loud, a little down in her voice.
I put my hand on her back, rubbing it up and down to provide comfort. A few moments later, a voice can be heard coming from Gary's radio. “So, you're new, and got to already meet C.? Very fortunate for us.” This guy says to Gary with their scratchy throat.
Ashton comes hustling back in, with his radio by his ear. Gary introduces himself, and states we're prepared for what objectives we have ahead of us. Janice has the third one by her ear. I get up and bump into Ashton, to let me hear the exact words, but mostly to indicate my sisterly friendship recuperating to him.
The voice tells us we will be heading to a small town to scavenge for supplies. He then begins to reveal other important information. “If I understand correctly, you're in that old fallout shelter near the highway, near our roadblock 'D11', so just turn left off the path from your place and stay straight on the road, until you see some of our men blocking your way. Shout that code. MAKE SURE YOU SHOUT IT IN THE DISTANCE.” He shouts on his own, making me back from the hearing piece. “After you pass, the next right on the road you see, take it, and it will lead to the town. You do well, and you will be rewarded for your contributions.”
He finishes the conversation, stating to contact back when we finish our run, so he can direct us to his location.
Before the radio goes silent, Gary asks him an important question. “Are there any dangerous people we should watch out for in that area?”
The radio is quiet for a few moments of time, but then the man comes back stating, “There should be little-to-no resistance, but do not assume that surprising people wouldn't pop out of nowhere.”
I figure if we find trouble, then we defend ourselves as normal. What I want to be different though is not just being in the background of the fight. This would be my chance to not feel like a liability.
Gary then brings up something I did not know he knew. “I was told if a group not with C. comes across you, then you either con—” he speaks, but it ends abruptly from this man finishing for him.
“Convert or kill? Yes. Keep your weapons loaded and ready.”
The radio chat now ends. I go ahead, and decide to use the bathroom, not caring that I forgot to put on my shoes before going outside. While walking out, I can hear Gary begin throbbing the energy in the shelter for absolute preparation on our first assignment.
I can tell right now he's not up for relief, and Ashton's not up for teasing remarks, and even Janice is only concentrated on how we won't mess up this objective. At the moment, we're not a quad of people just being people, but we're a squad of survivors stressing on another day—a new type of day—especially now that we have a new bevy of people we have to prove ourselves to.
Chapter XVI
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br /> (Gary)
Everyone is present and ready to tackle our mission. We took out most of the supplies from the 2 bags, and left them in the dresser—some of which will stay in them to keep us replenished for the journey. “How long do you think we'll be out, Gary?” Janice asks me.
“I am unable to estimate, but if this road is in fact the one Harold was taking us down, then we should expect the landmark of where the RV remains to be some time away from here.”
I let everyone out first, and then I lock up the place. I double check with Ashton to make sure he brought the map and journal, along with a writing utensil. “Got them right here.” He says, signaling my eyes down to his jacket pocket.
No undead have made their presence known to us in the area, and thankfully no hazes are in our sights. The early sun procures a dome of calmness, even with streaks of thin and murky mist above. It is emitting the brightest blue I have seen in a while, seeming impervious to what darkness the lands carry. The path down to the road is still smooth, and has no memory of the many feet that trampled its surface from yesterday. There is no sign of Trey or his group.
They are out here somewhere. Maybe they are within a 5-mile radius, or a 15-mile radius, but without a doubt they are out here, and possibly doing a mission of their own.
We get up to the stones on the threshold from here to the road. I see the stains of the blood that came from the one that opened Ashton and mine's world much more. The van is where it was yesterday, but the one vehicle Trey wanted us to leave is gone. “So this is where it went down?” Lissie asks, standing a couple of feet behind me.
I turn to her, nod my answer, and then point my finger to where we buried the aggressors.
“To the right of us, on this strip of grass, is where they now rest.” I explain to both her and Janice.
After a few moments of looking at the visible dirt humps, we all get over the stones and begin walking past the van. I do not take a second look at it, for it will not aid us in transportation due to its flattened tires, but Lissie wants see if ammunition might be in the back of it. We stay and wait on the verge of the small highway, closest in proximity to our side of the forest. She smacks the back van's doors with her fist, upset she couldn't find anything.