The Deepest Red

by Miriam Bell

  In a regretful voice she says, “Sorry about your friends.”

  My eyes follow the movement of my shoes, treading through the tall weeds.

  “I didn’t even bother to learn their names,” I say. “What kind of person does that make me?”

  She remains quiet after my confession, allowing my mind to revisit new haunting images. I give up the lead to Lonnie who doesn’t falter in his pathway back to the prison. I’m glad to relinquish the responsibility of leading us back home. I’m grateful to only follow.

  Chapter Thirteen

  We continue on our hike for a few hours in silence. The cool breeze helps to keep me focused but no infected appear. I’m staring off into the wood line when Clover speaks.

  “I get it now,” she says, peeking at me from behind a loose strand of blond hair.

  I glance back at her and find a slight flush on her cheeks.

  I smile as I say, “He’s too old for you.”

  Her cheeks grow pinker.

  “Yeah. I figured,” she replies sounding defeated.

  Chevy, having been held this whole time sleeping, whines in her arms. She releases him on the ground, shaking out her stiff arms.

  “Then again, I would rather him occupy my thoughts than what usually does,” she comments, glancing up ahead toward the twins.

  I understand what she means.

  “Oh, I know how you feel,” I say. “Just play hard to get,” I pause, watching Jay lean toward Lonnie to say something. Lonnie reaches inside his pocket handing him a small object,“for a few years,” I finish, teasingly. “Play hard to get for a few years.”

  Jay pockets the item quickly as Clover makes a face then laughs, “I’m sure I’ll grow into his type,” she teases back, flicking my slouching beret. “Pretty hat. Is it new?”

  I grin.

  “This old thing?” I ask, acting surprised by her comment. She flicks the beret again before I say, “Jay is a pretty good catch. He has a nice smile, pretty eyes and a tight-“

  “You know, I’m right here.”

  Connor’s annoyed tone chirps back at us.

  “Really? I didn’t see you there,” I say in the same tone.

  Connor turns and walks backwards as he studies us.

  “Millie’s right, he’s too old for you.”

  Clover’s smile widens at Connor’s disapproving demeanor.

  “A girl can dream,” she replies.

  He stops in his tracks and peers down at her with a mocking expression.

  “Why don’t you just go admire from afar.”

  Clover’s small frame seems to brighten at the idea.

  “Now, that I can do,” she states as she searches for Jay’s backside.

  He keeps pace ahead on the path with his brother, alert as always. If Jay heard us, he doesn’t show any signs of it. I find myself admiring his easy stride and confidence- the only similarities between him and Connor. With a sigh of relief, I realize I’m more confident knowing they’re around-not as lonely with familiar faces so near. Connor clears his throat abruptly, catching my attention. When I glance toward him a frown dominates his beautiful face.

  We walk in silence as Clover’s pace quickens, eating up the distance between her and her new crush. Chevy trots beside her, tongue hanging from his mouth. In the quiet, I kick a pebble and watch the small stone skip along the ground. The killing of those infected helped in calming me down from my anger but awkwardness still thickens the air between Connor and I as we walk.

  “I think my heart stopped when you opened the door and the infected were right outside.” Connor’s voice is low beside me, so as only I can hear his words. “I wouldn’t have been able to reach you in time,” he continues.

  I kick a bigger pebble, still not looking at him.

  “I told you I could defend myself. I’m just inexperienced in the red zone.”

  He nods.

  “However,” I continue. “I think I’m good now- the new has worn off.”

  A chuckle comes from my left, the sound reassuring.

  “After how you handled those infected- Yeah, I think you’re good,” he affirms.

  After a minute of silence I ask, “How did you learn to fight the way you do? I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  I steal a glimpse of him, only to observe him watching the trees. Without glancing toward me, he responds.

  “My grandfather was a Navy Seal when he was young.” He assumes I’m confused because he continues. “Most likely you probably read or heard something about the Navy and US Army in your library.”

  I shake my head to acknowledge him but he isn’t paying attention to me.

  “Well, they were the U.S. Navy's principal special operations force and a part of the Naval Special Warfare Command and United States Special Operations Command. In easier terms, they were a bunch of bad asses you didn’t want to mess with.”

  My eyes grow large when he finally looks at me.

  “My grandfather was really hard on my Dad, trained him like he was going to be in the Navy Seals one day even though that wasn’t possible. My Dad did the same to me. I don’t remember a day I didn’t train growing up. My childhood was extremely rigorous but I didn’t mind because the seal training was all I ever knew,” he pauses. “I’m glad he raised me that way now.”

  Connor’s gaze drifts from me to Clover, watching her as she smiles down at Chevy. The puppy dutifully walks beside her, tail wagging.

  “Is that how you plan to train me?” I ask, the idea exciting and scary all at the same time.

  “Nah,” he says a little too quickly as I kick a rock harder than necessary.

  It bounces, narrowly missing Chevy’s paws.

  “Seal training would take years for me to teach and to be honest, I don’t know if I could put you through that.” He swallows hard. “No, I’ve my own way of training you and Clover.”

  Connor searches the trees once again.

  “It’ll just have to do,” he mumbles to himself, avoiding my gaze.

  I let him retreat back into his head, to his memories and regrets. I can’t pretend to comprehend what kind of training he grew up participating in. The only way I come close to relating is my training at the prison; drills with Mrs. Emerson, hours sparing with Lonnie and afternoons with Tessa relaying the techniques I had learned throughout the day.

  Connor was graceful when he fought but brutal. He disappeared and move soundlessly. I could do neither but yet a part of me strived to mimic him. Realization strikes hard. No matter how angry I am with him in this moment, I admire him. I admire the way he fought to protect his cousin and how he faced the infected without fear. I would do anything to learn a fraction of what he knows. The notion I had only seen a fraction of what he was capable of, surfaces. The idea of learning from him has my fingers fidgeting around the hilt of my weapon. I can forgive him for not wanting me earlier if only he would teach me to fight like him.

  “When we get back to the prison, I’ll introduce you to Mrs. Emerson. She trains everyone in our community,” I say, a longing for home swelling up in me. “What I didn’t learn from her I learned from Lonnie.”

  Connor’s shoulders tense at the name but I pay no attention.

  “Above her is Mr. Jensen, he kind of supervises all the training and watches over the prison. You would be good at that- policing,” I say, glancing his way. “They usually pick a few of the scouts to help maintain order in case a dispute occurs, which never does.”

  He nods at my words while discerning the area. I should be doing the same but I don’t feel the urgency alongside of him.

  “This Jensen needs to be warned about the infected and the cult,” Connor says, stepping over a detached headlight. “I would recommend getting a lot more scouts and build somewhat of an army,” he states flatly.

  “We don’t have enough people to be an army,” I reply.

  “You have enough not to remember two of your people’s names.”

  “That was different,” I stut
ter. “I’m not very social.”

  He lets my excuse drop.

  “Doesn’t matter. You’ll need some kind of defense if the cult finds the prison. It’s too good of a resource to pass up,” he continues.

  I think of others I know who would never be able to hold their own in a fight.

  “There’s a fence,” I comment, grasping for anything positive.

  “Thank God. We are saved,” he mocks.

  Connor cuts his eyes to my face observing the dirty look I’m giving him. He smirks.

  “It’s a start but the cult will destroy anything and everyone for their cause. Usually, people like that don’t blink twice over a fence.” Connor’s last statement sends fear up my spine.

  “How can you go from trying to heal the infected to wanting to destroy them all in such a short time?” I ask.

  He remains quiet for a short while, navigating the terrain.

  “The sickness begins slow, giving you hope your love one can pull through. You establish this illusion they are getting better when really the sickness is eating their insides. You watch them turn,” he pauses, stopping on the narrow path. “I can understand how the experience can make you go a little crazy.”

  “Did you watch your mother turn?” I ask, coming to a halt beside him.

  “This isn’t about me,” he replies while shaking his head and pushing forward through tall weeds.

  “Yes, it is,” I say, gaining on him. “This is about you and me and everyone else left in this horrible world.” I grab his arm. “As much as I want to believe this cult is going to pass over us without noticing our small community, I can’t. We need you Connor. We need you to train everyone who is willing to learn.”

  I release my hold and continue ahead.

  “You know, when this cult first started, I thought it was a good thing. I thought someone was finally doing something about the sickness. Someone besides my mother was taking a stand and helping. It wasn’t until they came for her that I learned otherwise.”

  Connor matches his pace with mine- his presence intimidating yet comforting.

  “The more they take the more power they get, the more power they get, the more horrible things they can get away with doing.” Connor sneers the words. “God wouldn’t demand the death of innocent people, I don’t think God works like that,” he says, clenching his jaw.

  “I don’t think he does either,” I reply, quietly.

  “My mother was strong and independent. As much as she loved my father she didn’t rely on him to survive. She was kind, gentle and above all things, faithful.”

  “I’m sure she would be proud of you and how you’ve protected Clover,” I say.

  He doesn’t respond so I exhale loudly.

  “It’ll be nice to have a safe spot to sit and think about all of this,” I remark and rub my temples.

  “Just don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” He smirks again, attempting to break the seriousness of our conversation.

  “Watch it or I’ll hurt you,” I reply.

  He chuckles- the action brightening his beautiful face, the musical laughter bringing a reluctant smile to my mine.

  “Ha.Ha,” I sing- mock punching his shoulder.

  His smile warms as he looks at the place where I punched him and then back at me.

  “First ones free,” he teases.

  I laugh.

  As the time passes the heavy wooded areas give way to small homes. The abandoned houses rest close to the road, displaying their apocalyptic charm. Plywood covers the majority of their windows and each one is marked with a red slash of paint. I unsheathe my other weapon holding them both alert as we pass. Without being aware our group constricts closer together, moving as a unit on the crumbling asphalt road.

  “Lonnie, what’s the red paint for?” I ask. Jay answers instead.

  “About a month ago, we ran a short scouting mission. Tom, Lonnie and I marked all the houses we know are secured. That way it’s easier to notice if they have been tampered with.” He points out one of the homes. “You see, one red line means we’ve already scouted the whole building- two lines mean we’ve also secured it. So all the doors are locked from the inside.”

  I scowl.

  “You didn’t think it was important to tell me this information before we left the prison.”

  The twins glance at each other.

  “Sorry, we thought Tom told you?” Jay remarks.

  The knot returns to my stomach.

  “What about the plywood?” I ask. “Can’t we use that back at the prison?”

  Lonnie turns to me.

  “It’s on the to do list,” he says.

  His eyes skate over to Connor before turning back around.

  “Up ahead is the city square. I know of a place for us to spend the night. We should reach the prison in the morning before lunch time,” he says nonchalantly.

  Clover speaks for the first time in hours.

  “Isn’t it unsafe to stay near so many buildings? The infected could be anywhere- hiding? Trapped?”

  She turns to Connor with fear in her eyes. Before, Connor can say a word Lonnie speaks up.

  “I have a friend who stays in the Church at the square. We’ll be safe enough til we get home.” he replies confidently.

  “Why haven’t I heard about this friend?” I question as the knot tenses.

  My hands tighten on the handles of my weapons.

  “No one but Jay and I know. I came across him a few months ago.”

  My voice hardens. “What else aren’t you telling me?” Lonnie’s back stiffens. “Lonnie,” I say flatly.

  “Look, he didn’t want to go back to the prison so we set him up in an abandoned church outside the square. I sneak him a few things from home every once in awhile and he helps us out when he can,” Lonnie says.

  “Can we trust him?” I seethe.

  “Yeah, just as much as you can trust these other guys.”

  He doesn’t have to say Connor and Clover’s name to imply them. Thankfully, Connor remains silent, watching the houses as we pass.

  The cloudy sky hides the sun as we come into the city square. I halt at the site of the center courthouse. The building is the largest I’ve ever seen besides the prison. The brick is faded red with ivy running up the unkempt sides. The foliage creeps into shattered windows and reaches longingly toward the grand clock tower- the haunting clock forever displaying nine eleven with it’s heavy iron arms. A statue of a soldier stands with pride among the feral weeds. Trees surround the historical building like guards waiting for a command as their branches reach out, shading the beneath area.

  We cautiously enter into the streets littered with old cars. The ruins of attached stores line three sides of the court house. An old police station rest on one whole block by itself. Weeds break the narrow roads into small pieces making it difficult to walk through the city.

  “Am I the only one creeped out by this place?” Clover says aloud.

  “All the stores have been cleared. Don’t worry,” Jay replies, unable to reassure her.

  Clover steps closer to Connor. I don’t blame her. The uneasiness I feel with the lessening of daylight begins to weigh heavy on my chest.

  “Lonnie, how much further?” I ask, wanting to keep my nervous energy contained.

  “Don’t worry Millie, we’re almost there.” Lonnie lifts his finger pointing into the distance. “See the white church up ahead? That’s our destination for tonight.”

  He proceeds to crack the bones in his neck. I cringe at his familiar habit. Looking ahead of the abandoned shops of the square, I pinpoint a small white steeple peeking up above the roof lines. As we approach, I decipher signs of someone living inside. The church’s small yard is well maintained- the grass cut and weeds pulled from the flower beds. A clothes line runs from a low hanging tree branch to the railing that borders the church’s steps. Wet clothes hang crookedly over the small rope.

  “Bryan, you here?” Lonnie yells at the old woode
n door.

  His voice echoes causing my eyes to frantically search the area. Infected could be anywhere.

  “Hey you wanna yell a little louder. I don’t think the infected in town heard you?” Connor snaps.

  I quietly agree with him while sweeping once again over the buildings.

  “We haven’t seen an infected for hours.” Lonnie stares baffled at Connor. “I don’t think they’re in the area,” he states confidently.

  “Well, if not let’s draw them over here, why don’t we?”

  Connor’s mocking voice is quieted by the creaking of a door.

  “Lonnie?” I hear the questioning voice say before his face appears.

  From behind the worn door a middle age man steps out. He’s small in frame but tall- just over six feet. Stubble covers his face and neck with grey strands speckled throughout his hair. His face lightens when he spots Lonnie.

  “The prodigal son returns!” Bryan calls then notices the rest of our group standing before him. “Well now, Lonnie, you bring the whole town with you to see me?”

  He smiles as Lonnie steps toward him.

  “I thought you needed the company,” Lonnie replies.

  They both laugh as they shake hands.

  “It’s been awhile. I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”

  Bryan motions for us closer after Lonnie slips inside.

  “Come on in friends,” he says and opens the door wider for us to enter.

  Jay stops at the door gripping the man’s shoulder.

  “Good to find you alright,” Jays says. Bryan smiles.

  “It’s good to be alright,” he counters as Jay disappears.

  He turns back to us, watching our slow approach- Connor cautious as ever lags behind me.

  “You came just in time, there isn’t much daylight left,” Bryan says, acknowledging the fading light.

  When I reach the entry into the church, I pass by him slowly, taking note of his clean clothes and kind eyes. He emits a peaceful quality I’ve never found before in another person- an easiness I’m envy of.

  “Thank you for letting us come into your home,” I say, a little more at ease with his presence.