Because You Exist (Light in the Dark #1)

by Tiffany Truitt

  Jenna’s body.

  Jenna.

  I was so caught up in my sudden need to lose myself in the feel of Jenna’s skin that I almost missed Randall’s explanation. “Another odd symptom of the illness—slow decay of the body. Sure, the skin would fall off from the merest touch, but once death occurred, the bodies were slow to deteriorate.”

  “It’s a real mindfuck. You see the body. Your mind goes crazy wondering how it could be so well preserved, thinking maybe this disease wasn’t as rampant and all-consuming as you were led to believe, and then you lift the body to bury it and it falls apart right there in your hands,” Bentham said.

  “And they had no idea what caused this?” Josephine whispered, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach.

  Randall reached a hand out to place on her shoulder, but quickly returned it to his side when I glared at him. I knew he meant it as a sign of comfort, but she didn’t like to be touched. Not by anyone. Randall cleared his throat. “Why don’t we talk more about this in the morning? We need some rest. No way of being sure how long your time shift will last. In a few days we’ll have to move again, and that means most likely running into more of the zombies. If we want to help the people we love, we gotta survive long enough to do it.”

  For once, something these two said made sense. I was still fully aware of the fact that the moment we shifted back, I would have a football game to win. Sure, in the grand scheme of things football didn’t seem so damn important, but I needed it.

  “I guess that just leaves all the coffee for me,” said Bentham.

  “It is your turn to take watch duty,” Randall replied, moving towards the tent.

  “I wouldn’t mind some coffee,” said Josephine. “Why don’t you get some sleep, Logan?” I read what wasn’t being said aloud in her eyes. The look that told me tonight she would take watch. She may have believed their story, but she didn’t trust our lives to them yet. I didn’t argue with her. I was exhausted. And who knew what the hell was waiting for us next?

  Chapter 18

  “Ben? Those men, the survivors...”

  “Yeah. They’re pretty messed up. Not that I can blame them,” Bentham replied.

  I’m not sure how long Josephine and Bentham, excuse me, Ben had been talking before it woke me up. It took me a long while to fall asleep. I kept waiting for Randall to start snoring. Something about a fat man screams snorer, but it never happened. I always joked with Jenna if she ever started snoring, I’d break up with her on the spot. I had always been a light sleeper. Unfortunately, I had never been blessed with the teenage male’s ability to sleep through the apocalypse.

  Nope. Not lucky enough for that.

  Sometime during my obsessive need to run through every football play that could possibly be called in tonight’s game, I fell asleep. When I woke up, Josephine was already calling Bentham, Ben.

  Hearing the ease with which they talked caused a sudden need in me to stay awake. They had no idea I could hear them. I could listen in on their world without them even knowing, and there was something strangely appealing about that. I wondered if this was what it was like for Josephine back at school?

  “What do you mean? You’re not actually making excuses for those things are you?” Josephine asked, clearly disgusted by the thought. Which made me extremely happy.

  “Imagine that you watched everyone around you die. These men, the ones left, did you know they are mostly criminals and outcasts, men who never found their place in society? You watch everyone die and you feel one of two things: You either feel you are entitled to the world that’s left, better, as you always knew, than the people that died around you or—”

  “Or, you feel that everything the world told you about yourself, every dark and twisted thing is true. You didn’t die because you weren’t important enough to die. You were left with the rest of the world’s rejects,” Josephine added quietly.

  “Exactly. You watch the whole system fall apart. The government couldn’t stop the disease. Hell, maybe the government caused it. You don’t have any rules. There’s no good. No bad. You just exist. And you do whatever the hell you want.”

  The two fell silent. The only sounds interrupting the constant, dependable crash of waves on the sand were the crackle and pop of the fire, and a noise that I was sure was Josephine zipping and unzipping her hoodie repeatedly. Bentham was a lot more patient than me. I would have told her to stop after about five minutes.

  “So, how do they know about us?” Josephine finally asked.

  “The dark men.”

  “Who?”

  “You’ve met one of them. No doubt about it. When I met him, he was wearing a ridiculous suit, like he was going to a damn business meeting or something. He was just sitting outside the hospital, piles and piles of bodies all around him, wearing a damn smile.”

  “Mr. Ambiguous?”

  “What?”

  “That’s what Logan and I call him. He was waiting for us outside the school. Told us he was our Orientation Leader. He gave me the creeps. Who is he? Like a survivor?”

  “No. Not like a survivor. But that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. In the two years we’ve been shifting, we can’t figure him or the others out. One time we stopped a group of zombies from finishing off a shifter. His shifting partner was already dead. They had...well...they raped her. Over and over before killing her. They ripped the skin from her bones. Then they took turns breaking the bones one by one. I’m not sure how she finally died, but when she did they hung her body from a light pole. They carved the words dark shifter in her forehead.”

  I listened as Josephine’s zipper made a sharp and final noise as she zipped it up. If I were a betting man, I would wager she quickly placed her hood over her head as well.

  “Am I upsetting you? I could stop,” Bentham asked. What was truly upsetting was the almost careless way in which he tossed around these facts, as if he felt nothing when he thought back on them.

  Was he upsetting her?

  No. All girls liked to be wooed with stories of rape and mutilation.

  “No. I need to hear these things. It’s important. Please. Go on.”

  Josephine was right. We both needed to hear them. Even if we wished we didn’t.

  “We took out the zombies and tried to save the man. Not that there was much left of him. They made him watch as they killed his partner. I can’t imagine having to watch Randall die.” It was only when he talked about Randall that his voice caught, signaling this man felt something. Anything.

  “We managed to get a few things out of the man before he just gave up. He and his partner had been shifting for five years. He kept mentioning the dark men, and how he should have taken their deal.”

  “Deal?” Josephine asked.

  “Not sure. All I know is these men, the well-dressed smile freaks, seem to be immune to the sickness but aren’t survivors. They appear to shifters here and there, offering them aid. No one knows where they come from. Want to hear they oddest thing the shifter said before he died? He said, the dark men can’t lie. They’re clever as hell with their words, but they can’t lie. Like this is all one big game.” Bentham finished his story with a short, bitter laugh.

  “Who the hell are these people?”

  The girl took the words right out of my mouth.

  Bentham laughed again, this time louder. “Randall thinks they’re servants of the devil. He’s always been a real religious man. Sees all this as a big End of Days thing. You know how the devil is supposed to be good with words? Randall thinks they’re his minions, here to thwart our attempts at saving the world or some crap like that.”

  “What do you think?”

  “Not sure. Maybe scientists. Maybe businessmen. Either way, I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who started this. The whole thing. The sickness. Us and the time traveling.”

  “Why not search them out? Demand answers?” Josephine asked. I could hear the anticipation in her voice. I could feel her need to go searching for them t
his very moment. Were we really going to fear an army dressed in the best of Men’s Warehouse?

  “Because I don’t trust them. They want us to do something. And I don’t think it’s in the interest of saving all those poor schmucks who watched as their own bodies turned on them. Call it instinct. Besides, if they’re the ones responsible for me time traveling, can’t quite say I want them having any part of me. Not anymore than they’re already taken. Not a big fan of someone who plays with free will and all.”

  “I can understand that. Just seems like maybe we should hear them out.”

  “I used to think that way too. People like us are drawn to them, even though our common sense tells us it’s not a good idea.”

  “People like us?” she asked.

  I knew what he was going to say before he said it, and I knew Josephine knew as well. But maybe it just needed to be said. Like everything else in the world, once it was said, it could never be taken back.

  “Dark shifters, Josephine.”

  “How...how do you know I’m a dark shifter?”

  I wanted to go to her then. Do something. Tell her I understood even though I didn’t. Tell her it was going to be all right. We were together. Dark and Light. But I stayed right inside of the tent, afraid of what admitting these things would mean for not only her but me as well.

  “Aren’t you, Josephine?”

  Such a damn, simple question.

  “Yes,” she whispered, her voice lonely among the sound of the waves.

  I knew she was thinking of the blood forever on her hands. The things she did to protect us both. How only coveting the darkness could she fight to keep us alive. I vowed something in that moment—I vowed to be a better friend to her. I vowed to be brave for us in the world I could fight for us in. Even if that world was seemingly far less dangerous.

  “The second time we shifted, I killed a man,” Josephine admitted.

  “And you would have killed me if you felt like you needed to do so,” Bentham added.

  “Yes. I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. Does it make me evil that I want to live?” she asked.

  “No. I don’t think it’s about wanting to survive. I think it’s what we’re willing to do in order to survive that marks us as different.”

  “Why mark us at all. Why dark? Why light?”

  I crept closer to the mouth of the tent. This was it.

  He let free a sigh. “Because at some point they’ll fight to save the world, and at some point we’ll want it to end. Our only hope is that they’ll be able to convince us that we’re wrong.”

  They didn’t talk for awhile after that. As I lay back down, I began to think about his words. What would make Josephine want the world to end? I knew her life wasn’t perfect, but could it be so bad she’d rather have no life at all? If it came to that, how the hell could I convince a girl who I wasn’t even sure liked me that she needed to fight alongside of me?

  “Why pair us at all?” Josephine finally asked, tearing me from the sleep that had slowly began to overtake me.

  “Not sure. Randall was my anger management counselor before all this happened. I got in trouble at school a lot, got kicked out. Randall tried to get me back on the right path. We’re sitting in the middle of a session one day, talking about counting to ten and all that shit, when we shifted. I spent a lot of time since then wondering why we’re paired together. I realized he was the only person who even pretended to give a crap.”

  “You two seem close,” said Josephine.

  “I’d die for him,” Bentham replied simply.

  “I think he’d die for you too.”

  “What about you? Is Logan like your boyfriend or something?”

  It was Josephine’s turn to laugh. “No. Can’t say I’m his type. No. He’s...well, he used to make my life a living hell to be honest.”

  Over dramatic much?

  “What do you mean?”

  “He kind of bullied me. Came up with a nickname and everything.”

  “Sounds like a great guy.”

  She could defend me at any moment. I waited for it.

  “And what’s his type of girl?” Bentham asked.

  “You know...blonde, perky boobs, pom-poms. I mean, she’s nice and everything, but he’s settling. And he’s happy to settle.”

  “He’s young. Give him a break.”

  I didn’t like Bentham standing up for me. Besides, by saying it, he was implying he wasn’t so young, so naive. He was running his game on her. He was good.

  “I know,” she replied. “And he’s not exactly the kid I grew up with anymore. There’s more to him. Though I can’t exactly say we’ll ever be as close as you two...”

  “Well, you’re paired for a reason. Give it some time and you’ll find out why.”

  “You know...”

  The sound of Randall’s whisper nearly caused me to jump out of my skin. Now that I knew that was possible, thanks to the super sickness, the saying didn’t seem so clichéd. How long had the man been awake?

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he continued whispering.

  “It’s fine,” I whispered, lying back down. I certainly wasn’t going to be able to continue eavesdropping with Randall awake.

  “I was gonna say...”

  “Yeah?”

  “If Ben’s stepping over a line out there, you should let him know. If you like the girl, that is. I’d rather he knew before he started to invest himself into something. I could say something to him if you’d like?”

  “I...what? I...there’s nothing to worry about. We’re friends. Shifting partners.”

  Me and Josephine? Now, that was funny.

  But one question remained.

  Why were we paired?

  Chapter 19

  You see pro football players get their butts kicked all the time. As a football fan, you might even love watching it happen. Once, I watched Ben Roethlisberger get his nose broken, let the blood drip onto the field, and continue playing as if nothing ever happened. This is the kind of thing football fans thrive on. Sure, it must hurt like hell, but this is a symbol of real dedication. In a sport where the players get paid millions and millions of dollars to play a game, you like to see your players really commit. Earn those big bucks.

  There are no million-dollar salaries in high school football. The most you can hope for is hearing the crowd chant your name and a little on top of the clothes fun with your girlfriend between the post game meeting and after game party. So, when I got sacked for the sixth time, I can’t say I was loving football.

  We were down by seven with only two minutes left. We had to win the next two games to make it to the playoffs. And this wasn’t like the football movies where the music swells, and the coach calls you over to give you some heartwarming speech about overcoming odds and perseverance. No. My coach was screaming at me to get my ass in gear. The band was playing one of the three drumbeats they knew, and the crowd had already given up.

  Josephine and I had shifted before sunrise. I was still in the tent when it happened. I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep after Randall’s insane questions about Josephine and me. He didn’t ask me any more after that, but I kept trying to come up with reasons why we were paired. When I came to, I didn’t seek her out. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to talk to her. I did. I wanted to get her thoughts on everything we found out, and I wanted to warn her about Bentham. I hoped she wasn’t falling for his bad boy turned hero act.

  But when I came to, I felt the need for action. The more I listened to Josephine and Bentham talk, the more I felt completely useless in future world. This world, the world of skipping classes and football Fridays, was the world where I could thrive. I couldn’t wait for the game. I rushed out of the bathroom and found coach, convincing him to sign me a pass so I could skip class and warm up my arm.

  I was ready for the game. Despite being sore from my tussle with the survivor and feeling exhausted from lack of sleep, I craved the surge of control I felt as I moved
my body down the football field. Apparently, my team wasn’t so ready. Maybe it was because they were pissed at me, or maybe they just got too cocky, but we were losing.

  As the play clock began to wind down, I got pissed. We weren’t losing this game because of me. I ‘d shown up. I’d come to win. The team hadn’t. There was no way the defenders should have been able to break through the line and tackle me. If the team was trying to teach me something, it had backfired on them. We were going to damn well lose this game.

  I was tired of my life being in other people’s hands. So, I hung out with Josephine? So what? My life. Not only were they determined to decide who I hung out with, they were going to lose me my chance of going to State during my senior year.

  They could go to hell.

  I wasn’t going to lose.

  I was going to have to win this on my own.

  After the snap, I pulled the ball to my chest. I didn’t care how many defenders were in my way; I was going to push through them. With a yell, I sprung from my position with as much speed as I could muster. My muscles screamed in protest, but it wasn’t enough to stop me. I felt every hit. I felt it in my bones. But I kept pushing through the sea of hands and shoulders. While I finally broke free, I searched out the end zone. I blocked out the sound of the crowd. I didn’t want their damn approval either.

  I wanted this for me.

  When I broke the plane, I fell on my knees. I could feel it all. Every moment of the shift come back on me.

  I could win.

  I could win.

  I didn’t hang around on the field to lavish in the sounds of triumph. When the whistle blew to signal the end of the game, I picked up my helmet and started to head to the locker room. I stopped by where the cheerleaders stood and searched out Jenna. She ran to me, a bright smile gracing her face.

  “You were amazing,” she beamed.

  I kissed her on the cheek. “Let’s just do something me and you tonight.”

  “You don’t want to go to the party?”