by Miriam Bell
“Behind you!” Connor yells, “Tiffany! Behind you!”
The young woman swirls to face the oncoming threat. We rush back to the closed gates, searching the surrounding wood line. No other figure materializes as the snow falls harder. Having warning, Tiffany marches toward the infected, Joseph by her side.
From this distance away, I can’t make out any details about the infected besides the staggering limp it processes. Connor and I stop abruptly at the fence. My fingers twist around the cold metal.
“She can handle one infected. She took out three in the redzone by herself,” he comments.
“Badass,” I suggest as I tilt my head to view the scene.
“You could say that,” he replies as Tiffany reaches the lone infected.
I hold my breath waiting for the final blow. My stomach clenches at the realization I’m no longer affected by the gore around me. I instead anticipate the strike with desire to witness the death of this once vibrate person. I remember the scream of the first infected I saw. How he seemed almost human since his decay was not as evident as the others who found me the next day. Would things have been different if I had not ran away?
In the middle of scolding myself for asking “what if” questions, the infected does something strange. Before Tiffany delivers a strike intended to cripple the infected for good, the creature drops to the ground, raising its hand in defense.
“What the hell?” The words slip from my mouth.
“Come on. Let’s open the gates,” Connor whispers.
“No,” I say and reach for his arm, halting him in his tracks. “Let’s see what happens, then we signal others.”
I struggle attempting to understand what is being said. Unfortunately, all I comprehend is the gesture of Joseph helping the infected to his feet. I gawk as Tyrus sounds the bell for the second time today.
People of the community burst out of the prison, all the while, the outer gates are being unlocked. Tyrus contains the severely beaten man within the secure space.
“No,” I murmur as recognition filters through my confusion.
I near the scouts and shift, catching the man’s gaze.
“No!” I spit. “Don’t let that man inside these fences.”
Connor holds my shaking body away from the flinching stranger, surprised by my outburst. That is until he registers the facial features behind the swollen and bruised skin.
“Bryan?” he blinks, releasing me to take a better look. “Bryan is that you?”
The treacherous man bows his head.
“Please,” he begs with a damaged voice. Connor bends to study his face.
“Don’t get too close,” I warn. Connor disregards my concern.
“If he tries anything, he knows you would kill him before he stands.” He reaches out a hand tilting his face toward his. He hisses. “Someone beat you pretty bad.”
“The- the cult’s soldiers,” Bryan replies with a painful wince.
“Seems to me you threw in with the wrong lot.” He releases his hold, drawing a grimace.
“Who is this guy?” Tiffany asks.
“Met him out in the red zone. Thought he was a friend until he betrayed us to the cult. Carter and Daniel died with help from him,” I grit out between my teeth.
“I didn’t kill your friends. I had no control of that,” Bryan cries.
“You were just the cult’s spy, telling them the routes we take, gathering information for them to use against us?” I sneer at his grave expression.
“Millie, I-”
“Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word you say.”
I pull Katlin’s knife one more time, stepping toward the man who was at least partially responsible for their deaths. Connor steps aside allowing me to pass.
“Stand down, Scout,” Mr. Jensen orders from behind me.
My back stiffens but I don’t dare disobey.
“Tiffany, Joseph, this man is now our prisoner. Make sure his wounds are treated,” he states with authority.
They nod, grabbing Bryan’s bloodied arms. He blanches the color of the new snow as they assist him in walking.
“Wait,” Connor remarks, stopping their progression with a single raised hand. He proceeds to pat down the loose and torn clothing, pulling out a single knife when Bryan exhales. “Okay. Now go.” Connor steps out of their path.
“He is a traitor,” I say, narrowing my eyes on his retreating figure.
“Haven’t you learn yet, Millie?” Mr. Jensen pauses and glances at Connor. “The red zone changes a person.” His eyes still on the blade in my tight grip, then he turns to leave. “Secure the gate and for heaven’s sake, rest. No one is attacking anyone in this weather.”
“He’s right. It could be snowing for hours,” Connor agees.
I look up into the grey hazed sky and observe multiple snowflakes as they land on my skin, hair and clothes.
“What would you do if you were the cult?” I ask.
“I would wait out the storm, gather resources, review my plans and keep my soldiers from getting frostbite.”
“And if you were crazy?” Connor remains quiet.
With a gentle touch he brushes delicate flakes from my hair and lashes. My heart leaps.
“Let’s get you warmed up,” he says softly. I give him a small smile filled with weariness and relief.
We secure the gate and leave Tyrus to watch the pile of infected burn to ash. Within the privacy of my quarters, I bathe in a tub Mr. Jensen had brought up. The hot water caresses my skin as I sink back within it’s soothing embrace. I stay submerged until the water cools and wrinkles the skin of my finger tips. My body is slow to fall asleep, the images of the death I’d seen still fresh but sleep does come followed by repeated nightmares. I’m sure to stay quiet, suffering in silence.
When the first hint of sunlight plays softly on my cell’s floor, I get dressed and wrap my faded blanket around my shoulders. The air is crisp outside, smelling fresh and clean. A heavy layer of snow blankets the prison yard. In the peaceful stillness I can almost imagine my life differently. Boring, perhaps, a life eluded from the horrible things laying in wait outside the prison. I would be in the library, reading the same books over and over again, begging for the scouts to retrieve new novels or textbooks from their missions. I would accept my mother’s disappearance taking comfort in the stories of faraway worlds and distant kingdoms. Tom, Carter and Daniel wouldn’t be lost but then I wouldn’t know Connor and Clover, or Bryan. I sneer at his name.
“You looked so peaceful standing there until you suddenly had the expression you could kill a man with one glance,” Connor comments, stepping up beside me.
“You picked that time to say hey,”I reply.
“I live dangerously,” he smirks.
“You have to nowadays,” I remark, receiving a frown from Connor. “Has Mr. Jensen called a scout meeting yet?”
“Not officially. He increased the number of scouts at the guard shack and has been rotating volunteers around the perimeter.”
“Why wasn’t I told?” I ask, annoyed. A flicker of concern passes across Connor’s features.
“Because you just went through hell, Millie.”
“I made it back alive,” I challenge.
He remains quiet for long moments, watching the breeze stir the snow covered branches of nearby trees.
“You did but everyone needs a break once in awhile.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. Even though I had rested, my body was still sore and my mind still not functioning a hundred percent after last night’s dreams.
“You should take Clover and Tessa and run,” I state matter of factly.
“No.”
The steel in his tone snaps my head toward his calm demeanor.
“You’ve lived here only a few months. Why die coming to our defense? I’m sure many places would be good enough for you to stay the winter and Mr. Jensen would let you take supplies with you for your service.”
I remain staring at his
unflinching countenance. He turns wrapping my blanket more tightly around my shoulders- a new certainty in his eyes.
“I took after my father on many things. One being that I’m stubborn.”
“Yes. You. Are,” I interrupt.
His eyes warm toward me, sending flutters of nerves down to the pit of my stomach.
“Let me finish,” he chastises. “When I decide to do something, I do it, no matter what and I’ve decided to protect your home. Not because I can’t survive outside these fences with Tessa and Clover, because I can. It’s because my first thoughts in the morning are of beautiful strands of red hair and how they feel against my fingertips.” He brushes a red curl away from my face and behind my ear. “At night the last thing I imagine are the clearest blue eyes glaring at me in defiance.” The gentle touch of his hand glides down to my cheek. “You don’t need to love me back for me to stay by your side.”
My breath hitches in my chest at Connor’s confession. His eyes blaze a liquid steel waiting for my response. I step into the warmth of his body, encircling his narrow hips with my nervous arms.
“If I tell you I don’t love you, will you leave this prison?” He stiffens.
“No.”
I close my eyes wishing I could save him from himself but I’m too selfish. I glide my nose lightly down the length of his neck, smelling the night sky.
“I love you Connor. I don’t want you to go.”
Connor draws in a breath, standing completely still. I lean away from him so I can distinguish his emotions. His eyes are wide as if unbelieving. I glance around searching for any threat I might have overlooked.
“Connor what is it? Do you see an infected?” I say and tense.
He stares down at me, lips parted.
“You love me?” he asks and I slump in relief.
“Damn it Connor. Don’t do that to me. I thought infected were inside the fence.”
“You didn’t answer me,” he replies.
I laugh at the concentration on his face.
“Yes. I love y-,” I reply but before I can finish, his lips slam into mine- firm yet gentle, moving in a rapid pace.
My body instantly responds to his hands gliding beneath my wrapped blanket as my lips match his urgency. I’m lost for a moment, all thoughts of past events blurred away. I savor the the touch and taste of him, never wanting this moment to end. If the horrible things I witnessed threatened to push me over into insanity, this- this strong and caring man that I crave so desperately could draw me back from the edge. I moan into his mouth and am rewarded with the sound of his lust filled groan.
“Get a room,” Jay’s unamused voice says. I startle, gripping Connor’s arm.
“Jeez Jay. Do you mind?” I reply breathing heavy.
“Hey I’m not the one making out in the open.”
“Watch it,” Connor warns.
Jay only laughs.
What is the bucket for?” I ask when I notice the plastic pail in his gloved hand.
“Just a little bit of revenge,” he replies.
I stand within Connor’s embrace as Jay hurriedly scoops up handfuls of snow, releasing them in the bucket.
“Y’all enjoy yourselves while you can,” Jay says after filling the bucket. He whistles a happy tune as he reaches the prison’s door.
“You don’t think-”
“No. He wouldn’t,” Connor replies sternly.
I stare at the closed exterior door in confusion before realizing.
“Yes. He would.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
Connor and I are met with smirks when we reach our cell block. A snowball races past my head nearly missing Connor as he ducks away.
“Jay! You jerk!” Clover’s high pitch voice echos off the concrete walls.
Our neighbors stir within their quarters.
“What’s going on?” I hear a lady ask.
A thunder of laughter roars from Clover and Tessa’s cell followed by a female howl of frustration. Jay sprints from the cell block, a wide smile on his face.
“Scouts meeting in an hour,” he hollers as he passes by me. I reach out stopping Connor from running after him.
“Let it be.” I grin. “I’m sure Clover got what she deserved.”
His eyes narrow on Jay’s retreating form as light giggles come from no other than Tessa as she watches Clover’s reaction from within their living quarters.
“What’s going on?” David, my neighbor, calls from within their doorway.
“Nothing. Everything is fine,” I say as Connor strides toward his cousins’ cell.
I receive an irritated glare for my answer and nothing more as David turns to rely my words to his wife.
“Someone is in a mood,” I murmur to myself.
When I walk into the open door way of Tessa and Clover’s living quarters, I’m rewarded with a snowball to the chest.
“Oops. My mistake.” Tessa smiles innocently.
I make a face and brush the remainder of snow from my wrapped blanket.
“Let’s hope history doesn’t repeat itself,” I remark, glancing around.
A laugh bubbles up from my chest.
White snow lays scattered upon Clover’s bed and floor while a bucket pitched sideways is blamed as the culprit’s accomplice.
“Looks like a snowman threw up in here,” I remark and choke back a burst of laughter.
“Not funny!” Clover heaves. “Jay dumped a whole bucket of snow on me while I slept. Not cool!”
I desperately attempt to hide my smile while Connor pushes the remainder of snow from the bed to the floor.
“Don’t you think he has the right for a little payback?” I ask as her face changes into a childish pout.
“She can dish it out but she can’t take it,” Tessa interjects from a top of her non-snow covered bed.
She giggles devilishly resulting in Clover bending down to gather a small amount of slush and hurling the coldness at her sister. Tessa laughs louder after avoiding the assault easily.
“He’s gonna pay and you will too if you keep this up,” Clover threatens.
“Alright. Alright,” Connor soothes. “You’re not hurt, except for your ego.” With the side of his heavy boot he slides the snow on the floor under Clover’s bed. “Let it melt and be careful not to slip on the water.”
“But Cuz, he attacked me in my own room,” she wines.
“So? You have been playing jokes on him for weeks now and as much as I hate to say this, you deserved snow to the face,” Connor admits.
Clover plops down on her bed with a small cry. She stands swiftly, swiping at a small section of snow still on the bed.
“Fine, but if he does it again, it's war.”
“Fair enough,” Connor replies, allowing a hint of a smile on his lips.
Unable to hold back any longer, I collapse inside my room with laughter.
“I can hear you, Millie!” Clover’s voice shouts across the cell block. I try to swallow back my amusement.
“Don’t worry about her. She’ll get over it,” Connor says as he enters my room. “I’m just happy to see you laugh.”
I watch as he circles my cell, picking up the top book of my stack still loaned out from the library.
“I really need to return those,” I remark half heartedly.
Connor chuckles.
“Right now, I don’t think anyone cares about these books.”
Quiet murmurs sound from a couple cells down. I listen to David complain about the noise to Megan. For a moment, I recall the noise they used to bother me with and blush.
“I would love to know what you’re thinking,” Connor comments as he sits beside me on my bed. He leans back calmly, relaxing against the wall.
“Getting comfortable?” I ask, as his eyes close.
“Why not? I got an hour,” he states.
“Nothing to do before the meeting?” I ask.
One of his eyes opens slightly.
“Not anything I would rather do than be
with you.”
My heartbeat races as I remain quiet. As close as we’ve grown the last few months, his presence still affects me. I swallow hard. How could I be what he needed me to be if I was damaged by all the events which have taken place.
“You told me before the cult started off with a few of your neighbors within your community.”
Both of Connor’s eyes open.
“I did,” he says carefully.
“Do you remember my aunt? Was she one of your neighbors?”
He shakes his head reaching out a hand to place on my shoulder.
“No. I would have remembered the color of her hair,” he says and gently slides his hand down my arm and back into his lap. Cautious. “I would have told you.”
I nod my head.
“It’s just, she wore the white mask, the leader’s mask but she also said the leader had liked her- he let her join.”
Connor stiffens.
“What are you thinking?”
I turn around to face him, bringing up my knee to rest beside his leg.
“Only that, there could be another army out there somewhere with the true leader of the cult.” His hand repositions itself on top of my bended knee. “I wonder if he would approve of what she is doing with his resources,” I pause in thought “or maybe she killed him.”
Connor shakes his head in disagreement.
“The cult is twisted, yes, but they still believe they kill in God’s name as a cleansing of the Earth and with a purpose. They wouldn’t allow one of their own, a leader, to be murdered and that person take over command.”
I shrug.
“Either way the original leader you spoke about wasn’t there and I have a hard time believing all those men would follow one woman.”
“I would follow you.” Connor replies. “Maybe, they’re all desperately in love with her.”
I smile shyly, focusing on his hand relaxing on my knee. His fingers dig into my jeans, tightening. My gaze meets with his heavy lidded eyes.
“What if I make a suggestion on how we spend the rest of our hour?” he soothes with a mischievous gleam. I laugh, nervously.
“What would you suggest?”
A roguish smile lights his face as he breaks away from the wall he was leaning against. Connor slopes forward, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck. I remain frozen in place like a deer aware of a nearby predator. The gentle caress of his lips send a shiver throughout my body, a reaction I’m unable to hide. Connor chuckles, a deep musical sound and I close my eyes. I don’t care only a thin piece of fabric conceals our privacy from others, that our sounds may be overheard. I want him. I want him more than I want the fear of the upcoming battle to vanish from our future. My stomach growls.