by Miriam Bell
His smile fades as a serious gleam replaces it. I mentally kick myself for not having the sense to just enjoy his good mood. A long moment passes as his arm still around my waist draws me nearer. His grip burns me like a hot flame as sensation moves down to my hip.
“Don’t leave me behind again,” he says so close his breath tickles my cheek.
The hand on my hip tightens, causing my lungs to falter, before finally letting go. Without meeting my eyes he steps away from me, putting a good deal of distance between us. I instantly long to go to him and pull him against me- to let my desire seep out and into his more experienced body.
“I think we will save that conversation too. Now, walk to me so I can make sure your not going to bust your ass,” he states.
I snap out of my stupor and I do as he asked, taking my last three steps without any problem.
“Congratulations! You passed, time to go,” he says turning and adjusting his weapons.
I follow behind him out of the barn wishing I could explain my unbearable attraction to him. It feels strange hiking through the woods without a supply bag or beret to cover my hair. The only thing I carry are my aunt’s blade, Tom’s pocket knife and the water container my dad left on the barn’s musty carpet. I miss the heaviness of my crimson axe and hammer but there will be other weapons to grow fond of and other opportunities to use them. We hurry our pace glancing at our surroundings as we go.
When I exited the barn, Lonnie was perched, alert, against a nearby wooden post. Along with many minor cuts and a painful black eye, he had sustained a large gash along his arm. His sleeve had been torn away exposing an ill-conceived set of stitches weaving through the damaged skin. When I tried to offer my assistance in bandaging the wound, he shook his head and turned away- an expression of regret and sorrow clouding his face.
A coldness sweeps over my weariness as I continue to walk. What happened to Lonnie while we were separated? The idea of him leaving us to the same fate as Carter and Daniel crosses my mind repeatedly only to be ignored due to the fact that I won’t accept Lonnie leaving behind his brother. They share a strong bond, always have. I decide to believe instead that Lonnie was on a mission to find help from the other members of the scouts. It would have taken him time, especially injured but time was something we were not guaranteed.
After a few hours of traveling, we pass through the front gate of the prison. The sound of the bell signaling our arrival gives me the strength to continue up the pathway to the faces peering down in concern. At this point my whole body aches and the first thing I would love to do is bury myself into my bed but as the crowd shifts, Mrs. Emerson appears.
“Follow me,” she says as her eyes widen at the dry blood still caking Jay’s clothes and skin.
She turns walking through the people of our community. As a group, we pass through stunned faces and mumbles of “welcome back.” Chevy walks beside me, tail wagging, giving licks to my fingers. I’m regretful when we make him stay outside as we follow Mrs. Emerson into the gymnasium.
“I don’t like this,” my dad says in a low mumble.
“It’s protocol Dad, don’t worry,” I reply.
“Lonnie!” A voice shouts as we close the door to the entrance behind us.
I step aside when Evie barrels toward us. Her long brown hair is loose and wild, giving the impression she hasn’t been too concerned about her lunchroom duties recently. She slams into Lonnie, forgetting that her affections are supposed to be secret. His arms encircle her bringing her closer to smell the perfume of her hair.
“Max mentioned he saw y’all coming into the fences,” she says drawing away, “What happened to your face? Your arm?” Her brows furrow with concern. “Lonnie?”
“It’s okay Evie,” he replies with moisture in his eyes.
“Where’s Carter and Daniel?”she asks. He remains quiet, pulling her once again into his arms.
I’m feeling a little uncomfortable standing there observing the tenderness between the couple. My father coughs as Evie’s eyes find mine.
“Um,” she stuttered, realizing her mistake. She backs away from Lonnie but it’s too late, their secret relationship is no longer secret.
“I believe the cat’s out of the bag,” Connor comments smoothly. “No reason to act awkward and shy now.”
Evie’s cheeks redden at his remarks as Connor reaches for my hand. I let him entwine our fingers without a word. Mrs. Emerson waits impatiently at the doorway of the conference room.
“Quickly,” she urges.
When we enter, only Mr. Jensen is present.
“Evie, why don’t you go to Max and help prepare some food for our scouts and Micah. They need to regain some strength and rest.”
She nods, casting Lonnie one more longing glance. I drop my supply bag to the floor.
“At least this time I didn’t forget to turn it in.” I say.
After the door closes behind Evie, we all recount the horrible details of our mission to Mr. Jensen. My dad quickens his pace the more we share our experiences.
“They let us make it home safely,” I say, watching my father’s steps falter. “Why would a crazy cult do that? They knew we were coming here. Why not lay in wait?”
“The cult doesn’t think the prison can stand with or without a warning?” Connor suggest. My dad makes a snide sound.
“Katlin would want everyone in the prison to know who is attacking them. It’ll make the fight that much more fun for her,” Dad replies.
“Things have changed since the last time she was here. Now every member of this community has had some sort of training. We won’t be pushovers.” Jensen states confidently.
“If Katlin commands as many soldiers as you say….” Dad’s voice trails off.
“We need to prepare,” Jensen says, standing. “We’ll set up a watch and rotate shifts.”
From far away, the sounds of the guard shack bell rings.
Chapter Twenty-eight
My legs scream in burning pain as I run through the halls and out the door of the prison. Cold air assaults my skin reminding me of how much I long for the lumpy mattress in my quarters.
“Is the only bell at the guard shack?” Connor asks, running alongside of me.
“Yes,” I rasp.
The weariness of my body giving way, fortify with adrenaline as I spot a considerable crowd staring at the fences.
“There!”
I point in the direction of the people but Connor has already seen them, speeding up so he can reach the danger first.
“Wait!” I call, pushing my legs to strike the ground, harder, faster. The distance between us lengthens and I curse at his ability to exceed my limitations. Before he reaches the crowd, I shout a warning, “Move out of the way!”
A few of the ones in the back turn wide eyed to see Connor rushing toward them. He vanishes among them easily as I near.
“Get out of the way!” I exclaim loudly. They part for me with shock expressions on their faces. The sound of baffled murmurs fill the winter air. “Move!” I yell as I freed myself from the crowd.
What lays before me is a sight I’m not prepared to witness. Fear scurries along my side settling in a familiar weight against my chest. A horde of fifty infected scatter beyond our borders- a portion of them beginning to push against the steel metal fence surrounding our home. I turn and address the scared people behind me.
“Listen to me!” I shout, attempting to gain their notice but their faces still focus on the infected attempting to breach our defenses.
I put my fingers to my mouth and let out an ear piercing whistle. Lonnie and Jay burst through the crowd followed by my father, Jensen and Emerson.
“Everyone, spread out among the fence, ten feet apart. Do not engage with the infected. We only need you to gain their attention so they do not gather in one area and damage the fence,” I say instructing the crowd which continues to grow more frightened.
Lonnie and Jay run past me, knifes in hand.
“Y
ou heard what she said,” Mr. Jensen’s deep voice growls, “Move!”
The crowd disperses, their eyes terrified but they hurry to positions around the fence’s border. My father follows, directing them on where to stand.
“Scouts!” Jensen bellows, “Strike the eyes first then we’ll move beyond the fence and behead them!”
I pull out my aunt’s weapon, tucked inside my pant’s leg, as I run to join the fight. The clang of the metal sounds as infected throw themselves against our only barrier. I take up point beside Tryus to guard him from being grabbed by infected beyond the fence.
“Don’t let them bite you. I’m not certain but it could turn you into one of them,” I say and stab my knife into the eye of a reaching man.
“What are these things?” he replies, blinding a nearby woman whose skin sags from her bones.
“Infected and the only way to kill them is to take their heads.”
We fight beside one another, moving down the fence as to spread out their attacks. Chevy runs along beside us, snapping at tiny arms that reach for our clothing. When I bump into Connor, he steadies me.
“Time to go,” he says touching the length of my jaw and chin with his fingers.
We gather before the inner gate of our defenses. As I wait for Mr. Jensen to give an order I scan the line of people along the perimeter. They call out, clap their hands, whistle, anything to keep the attention of the blinded infected. So far the plan has worked. The massive horde spreads the length of the fence, reaching hungrily toward the noisy prey- balancing their weight so the fence doesn’t collapse.
“This is what our drills are for,” Jensen starts.
I search the faces of the many scouts I’d trained with. After not knowing the names of the two who had fallen outside of Tom’s house, I’d took the time to get to know them, to become friends with them. Now, if any of them die, I will feel their loss even more. From beside Connor, Chevy growls at the infected.
“We’re moving in groups of six. Three attack, three guard. Millie, Lonnie, and Jay,” he pauses accessing our heavy breathing, “y’all will protect the center of the two gates and control whether or not, they open.” We nod knowing not to protest during an actual fight.
“Move as silently as possible,” he finishes and points to the group leaders. Connor pulls aside the group of five he is responsible for. I recognize Joseph, Tiffany, Cam and Justin as the group he had been on mission with in the red zone. The fifth member, Lola, Cam’s younger sister joins them.
“You got this?” Jay asks.
I study the dry blood on his clothes and skin still lacking the well deserved bath he needs.
“Do you?”
He glances down and smirks.
As the scouts form three circle formations of six, my heart beats with uncontrolled anger. I want to help. I want to fight. Jensen observes the scouts and their opponents, studying their movements and weighing the odds.
“We’ll ready. Everyone to the gates,” he calls.
We all fit tight together on the strip of land between the inner and outer gates. I secure the fastener on the inner gate as Lonnie unlocks the outer.
Before the first group of six is released beyond the fence, Mr. Jensen states, “First group out, once clear we allow the second to exit.”
Jay gives the signal for the people along the perimeter to renew their efforts. Their voices raise louder, drawing the infected away from our unlatching of the outer gate. The first group exits without gaining the attention of nearby infected. They move together in one unit, backs inward, forming a tight circle. Once cleared of the gate’s opening, the second group exits, then the third. They move throughout the horde. First the lead person sneaks behind one of the badly decayed infected, taking a knife, he efficiently slices the head off. When the noise catches the attention of a nearby infected, the person to the right of the lead scout attacks that advancing infected and so on, until all the infected of that area have been dispersed.
I regard Connor as he moves with a deadly grace among the unsuspecting horde, Joseph protecting his back with his own. The bodies drop one by one as the blinded foe are uncertain as to where to attack. The infected who are not as decayed as the others put up more of a fight but eventually they are overcomed by the practiced skills of our scouts. I am suddenly grateful of all the hard work Mrs. Emerson required of the scouts. Many of the community didn’t think the daily training was necessary. Who was beyond the fences anyway? No one had came to our prison for decades seeking sanctuary from a dying world.
I turn to consider the large number of dead infected on the ground when a startled scream sounds through the air. Justin, having slipped to the ground, left Lola’s back unguarded. His delay in warning was long enough for the last remaining infected to latch onto her shoulder. I stare unable to act as the infected deepens his bite. She screams again, releasing the infected she had her blade to- her cut not fully removing the head. It’s mouth snaps toward her as she kicks savagely at its injured leg. The infected falls, twisting its body toward her as the other reels for another bite.
In a strike too fast to follow, Connor hacks at the still standing infected. The infected man stumbles but rights himself in order to turn on Connor. Lola’s blood shines, smeared across his remaining skin.
“Joseph finish off the other infected!” Connor shouts but Joseph is already in motion.
He tightens his grip on the handle of his long knife and slices through the brittle bones and muscle of the fallen infected. The scene is over in a matter of moments- Justin crawling to Lola’s collapsed body.
“I’m sorry Lo. I slipped. The blood. I’m so sorry.” His cry is laced in agony and regret.
Connor gathers her in his arms as if she weighs less than a bird.
“These things happen Justin. This wasn’t your fault,” Connor says, racing toward the prison.
I hurry to open the outer gate for everyone to withdraw back into safety.
“How bad is it?” I ask when he lays her down in front of Mr. Jensen.
“I’m not sure,” he replies, turning her on her side and ripping larger the hole in her shirt.
The skin is angry and torn, blood flowing in a steady pace from the wound. The sight is followed by gasps from all those around her.
“She has lost a lot of blood,” Connor says, leaning away from the injured scout, “if the rumors are true, she will turn.” He sighs heavily before standing.
“What are you doing?” Justin crys, rushing to crumple by her side. He tears at his shirt, applying the sweaty fabric to the open lacerations.
“Have you seen someone turn after being bitten?” Mr. Jensen questions Connor.
“No, only heard others speak about it when I was still in Americus. I never chanced learning the truth while in the red zone.”
“Then we’ll treat her and keep her alive the best we can,” Mr. Jensen replies.
Connor glances to Justin’s shaking hands applying pressure to the bite.
“And if she turns?” I ask, horrified of bringing the disease inside our home.
“We will post a guard. If she becomes one of the infected than we kill it.” Mr. Jensen says sternly before opening the inner gate.
Two of the women who had distracted the infected at the fence rush to Lola’s side. They examine her body before Cam heaves her into his arms- Justin not having the mindset to handle the situation. I watch as they hurry to the infirmary with four scouts on their trail.
“I don’t like this,” I offer aloud.
“I don’t either,” both Jay and Connor respond. Mr. Jensen turns toward us.
“You don’t have to,” he remarks and crosses his arms in the cold breeze. “Go clean yourselves up and rest. You’ll gonna need it.” With a curt nod, he barts. “Joseph, Tiffany, John, Peter and Jim, pile the remains and burn them before the snow starts.”
I raise my head to the gray sky. In all the events, I didn’t pay attention to the clouds. Suddenly, I’m cold as the adrenaline seeps out
of my weary muscles. Dad puts his arm around my shoulders.
“Come. Why don’t we head to your quarters?” he suggests.
I nod my head, faintly aware of Connor and Chevy following close behind me. Clover and Tessa run to greet us when we reach the main building.
“They wouldn’t let us out to help,” Clover complains as she gives Connor a tight embrace.
“Good,” he remarks, rustling Tessa’s hair. They both smile brightly.
“Welcome back,” Clover says hugging me with a gentle grasp. Tessa slips her hand within mine and squeezes.
“What no welcome back for me?” Jay remarks, striding with a purpose to meet us.
“Not looking like that,” she teases and backs away. Jay frowns at his crusted clothes and stalks past.
“Jay?” Clover calls in confusion.
“That blood isn’t from those infected,” I comment in a low remorseful voice.
Comprehension flickers over her face.
“I’ll meet up with you later,” Clover says and turns to follow after Jay’s retreating form.
“Come on Millie. Let’s go.” Dad takes my arm lightly to lead me inside.
My grip tightens on Tessa’s hand still laced with my fingers.
“Alright,” I reply.
As my foot steps inside the dim entry into the prison’s cinder block hall, Chevy growls. I spin along with Connor to discover the young dog poised with his hackles raised. My eyes follow the clever animal’s sight to the woodline.
Snow begins to trickle down from the sky as I breath in the disease smell of rot burning. Past the growing pile of infected being reduced to ashes, a shadow emerges. Connor’s hand drifts to his weapon without an ounce of mindful effort. The action is second nature to him as it is to me, I realize when I perceive the gleam of the blade I’d pulled from my side.
“Go inside,” I demand at my father and Tessa. He stiffens, ready to refuse.
“Please Dad,” I pled.
“We’ll be in the library,” he remarks, reaching for Tessa’s abandoned hand.
A figure stumbles slightly as it trudges toward the prison.