by Jay, Jess
When they entered the store, Thea let out her breath and gave Jack a relieved but tense smile as she put her gun away. He didn’t smile back as he was focused on Jojo, trying to get her to calm down and release her death grip on his shirt. The girl shook her head into his chest, eyes clamped shut and body wet and shivering. She looked so small and fragile, reminding Thea of when she first met her.
“It’s all right,” she whispered as loud as she felt was safe, rubbing the child’s back to warm and comfort her. “It’s going to be okay. You did so well.”
Jojo stuttered in a breath and relaxed her grip on Jack but didn’t pull away. He sighed, finally allowing himself to release some tension from his body, and Thea felt his breath on her cheek. At that moment, she realized how close they were and, more importantly, that they were still holding hands. She blushed and let go, unable to meet his gaze or even stay in the same room. She looked for an escape, finding the door to the back and mumbling an excuse to leave.
The room was dark, but with her flashlight and some luck, she found a tattered blanket strewn across the floor. It was thick and might have been a rug at one point, but it would warm Jojo and prove Thea had a reason to leave. It would prove she wasn’t avoiding the way Jack made her feel, even though she was. She needed to keep her brain in order and not let teenage feelings distract her from the danger they were in.
As she flexed her fingers, she remembered how large and solid—and how cold—his hand had been. She wondered how much he could feel through the hardness of his skin and if holding her hand made him feel the way she felt.
Frustrated, she sighed at her inability to keep her thoughts in check and walked back to Jack and Jojo. Without looking at him, she wrapped the blanket around the girl, who shuddered, teeth chattering as she nestled into Jack. He shifted to hold her better, moving further into the store to get away from the rain. Thea didn’t follow, didn’t watch him walk away, focusing her attention out the windows instead.
The group of shriekers drifted, searching for their lost prey, rain glistening off their vines and confusing them with its symphony. For a moment she wondered if they should move to a different building or hide in the back room but dismissed both options. She didn’t like leaving their bikes and supplies to the whims of the weather and the creatures hunting them, but she liked not being able to see the shriekers even less. She needed to know the moment they moved on so she and Jack and Jojo could escape.
Wind sprayed her with droplets of rain, attempting to ruffle her hair and chilling her already damp skin. Behind her she heard Jack setting Jojo down in the corner farthest from the windows and hoped he wasn’t planning on joining her. His footsteps, muffled by the leaves and vines that carpeted the ground, told her she wasn’t that lucky, and she steeled herself for his presence.
Her armor disintegrated the moment he stopped next to her, running his hand through his hair, the action appealing in a way she didn’t fully understand. When his hand fell away, his hair was slicked back, and Thea’s eyes slid down to his jaw, stubbled above his stone-like skin. She bit her bottom lip and turned away, ignoring the fact her heart started beating faster.
“What now?” he asked, his voice a whisper.
She bristled, irritated at the question and the impatience she read into it.
“We wait.”
A pause telegraphed Jack’s displeasure. “How long?”
“Until the chances of us dying horribly go down.” She used all the self-control she possessed to keep her voice quiet.
Jack scoffed, and she rounded on him, surprising both of them as she released her quiet fury.
“Look, Jack, I know you have this ticking clock propelling you forward, but if we handle this badly, it will end badly. There are three of them, and that is more than I’ve ever dealt with at once. Going for our bikes when they’re still lurking in the area is suicide, and I don’t feel like dying.”
Jack looked away, sufficiently chastened, and Thea softened her voice, wanting to justify herself.
“I promised my aunt I would live. Jojo’s mom entrusted me with her care and I promised myself I’d protect her, so I’m going to. I know I can’t force you to do anything, but we can’t be reckless. I don’t want to watch another person I care about die.”
Jack’s eyes snapped to her and she tried to convince herself and her burning cheeks there was no reason to be embarrassed. It wasn’t as if she said she had feelings for him or anything. They traveled together for a week—of course she was going to care about him; they were partners and maybe even friends.
That didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t keep his gaze. He was too close and his hand was merely inches from hers. She remembered his fingers intertwined with hers and wondered what it would feel like if she had held his good hand, if she could feel his heat…
She turned and walked to the back wall of the store, unable to stand near him any longer, and sat down a few feet from Jojo. Jack didn’t follow, looking out the windows, seemingly deep in thought. Did he think she had a crush on him? Because she didn’t have a crush on him. He just made her heart beat faster and distracted her with how handsome he was and how his wet clothes stuck to him, showing his well-built body. She bit her thumb as she remembered his muscular arms around her, holding her close, keeping her calm, bringing her back to reality… Butterflies erupted in her stomach but that didn’t mean she had feelings for him.
He caught her staring and her eyes and hand fell to her lap. She was a mess, physically, mentally, and emotionally, none of which were helped when he came over and sat next to her. She pulled her knees to her chest and hugged them, as if doing so could protect her from how she felt.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. This is my fault.”
Thea shook her head. As much as she wanted to blame him, she couldn’t.
“No, I agreed to go. It was a bad call, but it was both our decision.”
He clenched his jaw, unable to accept her words or shift the blame from himself. Her heart contracted, wanting to comfort him. She placed her hand on his arm without thinking.
“Who knows what would have happened if we stayed in the shed. You were right. Waiting has just as many risks.”
Jack turned his head toward her but didn’t lift his eyes, looking down at her hand on his arm. She felt self-conscious but didn’t take her hand away, squeezing him, trying to convey her meaning. A lock of hair fell in front of his eyes and she had the urge to tuck it away but controlled herself. Instead she pulled a small jar of dried fruit from an easy to reach pocket on her pack, reluctantly breaking contact with his body to do so. It was for the best. Her own body was betraying her.
When Jojo refused to eat, pulling the blanket tighter around herself and laying on her side, Thea set the jar between Jack and herself. They ate in silence, monitoring the windows for any sign of the shriekers but more aware of each other. When they finished, they sat there, awkwardly silent, hands close as they rested on the floor between them. Thea wanted to move but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to move closer to his warmth or away to gain some control over her feelings.
As a way to distract herself, she took off her baseball cap and let her hair down, twisting it in her hands and wringing out the remaining water. It dripped through her fingers and onto her legs, but it didn’t matter: her clothes were already soaked, cold seeping through her body, jumpsuit sticking to her skin.
Jack watched as she ran her fingers through her thick hair, and she found that she didn’t mind. It embarrassed her and she felt self-conscious, but something about the look in his eyes exhilarated her, and for once she didn’t feel like he was sizing her up or having a good-natured laugh at her. When she looked at him, he snapped out of whatever thoughts he had been having and turned his head to avoid her stare.
He froze, eyes wide and body tense as he looked out the window. Thea followed his gaze. She knew what she would see but she didn’t want to se
e it.
A shrieker stood in silhouette against the overcast light of the day, motionless. Lightning flashed and for a moment Thea thought vines hung from its limbs like strings, but then they faded—a hallucination. Her heart thud in her chest, sirens blared in her ears. She clutched her head to stop the noise, but it was inside, bursting out from her. Someone held her, carried her, running. She could feel the heavy footfalls, hear them connect with the hard plastic floor. She looked over the woman’s shoulder into the darkness and opened her mouth to scream.
Arms wrapped around her, strong and masculine, pulling her into a tight embrace and holding her face to his chest to stop her scream, to stop the sirens. She clung to him, to the present, refusing to get lost and determined to stay with him, with them. She had to stay quiet. She had to be a good girl. She had to be brave.
Movement caught her eye and she adjusted her head to see the jar of strawberries, jostled when Jack grabbed her, tumbling away from them, the fruit churning inside. He was whispering something in her ear, something meant to calm her. She tried to hear his words, tried to order her brain, to sort her thoughts.
They needed to get away. They needed to hide. They needed to stop the jar.
The creature’s skull tilted to the side at an unnatural angle, attempting to hear them over the wind and rain.
The jar connected with its foot and it cried out.
The father and child shrieker responded, close by.
Jack swore, surging to his feet and dragging Thea with him before abandoning her for Jojo, grabbing the small girl into his arms. With his free hand he pulled out his gun and aimed at the shrieker rushing toward them, firing once. The shot landed right between its eyes with a precision that stunned Thea’s fractured brain into momentary lucidity—he had skill, and not the skill of someone who had a few backyard lessons with a family member.
He put the gun away and grabbed Thea’s hand before running into the back room, dragging her with him. She followed, attempting to shake off the memories lurking beneath the surface, threatening to engulf her. Sirens faded in and out. They ran into a dark hallway with flashing lights. Hard plastic corridors that had always been bright were dim and scary. Cold fell to her skin, and she looked up through the ceiling to the sky, dark with clouds and leaking rain.
She was outside in a narrow alley, unmoving. Jack had stopped, his hand warm in hers. She tightened her grip on him, using his presence to ward off her nightmares and memories. She didn’t want them, never wanted them, but they continued to seep into her reality, getting worse every time she had an attack. She could feel herself breaking, falling apart, but she had to keep it together or she would get all of them killed.
Over Jack’s shoulder she saw why he had stopped—the father shrieker and its child were standing at the end of the narrow alleyway, almost blending in with the vegetation thick in their path. Behind her she could feel the mother shrieker, waiting for them to move, knowing it would hear them when they did. The rain had eased, unable to mask their movements any longer.
But that didn’t matter—even if they could sneak away there was nowhere to go. Brick walls closed in on either side and there wasn’t enough room to get passed the shriekers blocking them without getting uncomfortably close.
This was her fault. Because she repressed her memories, they broke free at the worst time. Because she wasn’t stronger, because she couldn’t keep herself in check, because she couldn’t face her past…
She closed her eyes, trying to quell the storm inside her, trying to keep herself from giving away their position, but she could tell the shriekers were coming closer. They could hear her, moving cautiously so they didn’t scare her into flight.
She decided.
Opening her eyes, she pushed Jack to the side. He collided with the wall, protecting Jojo so she didn’t get hurt. For a second, he met her eyes, confused then alarmed.
She took in a ragged breath and shouted, “Hey, jerkfaces! If you want to eat something, eat this!”
It was lame, but it was all she could manage before she rushed past Jack and toward the father shrieker. As she dodged its massive hand, she ran as fast as her tired legs could take her. A trilogy of shrieks echoed after followed by their frantic pursuit.
Fear fueled her as she ran, fraying her intellect. The past filtered into the present, her memories drawing her into the darkest places of her mind. She could hear a woman breathing as she ran, could feel protective arms around her. She had to be quiet. She had to be good or it would hear them. The ground shook as the monstrosity surged down the hallway, its massive shadow filling her vision.
Consumed with terror, she fell, tripping over a step and landing with a thud. Mud and water dripped from her as she clambered to her feet, unsure of where she was or how far she had fled. The shriekers cried out, close behind, and she ducked into the building the step belonged to, hoping to cut through and lose them.
The other side of the store had collapsed, blocking the exit. Frantic, she scrambled into a closet, shutting the door behind her and stumbling into the opposite wall. Her hands clamped over her mouth, she slid down to the floor, curling into herself. She had to be quiet. She had to be brave.
A cry rang out from the father shrieker, low and powerful, meant to scare prey into moving, into slipping, but Thea wasn’t going to make that mistake. She was going to be a good girl.
To keep herself from whimpering, she clenched her teeth until they throbbed, struggling to keep her breathing even. She could see the shrieker in her mind, walking in front of the doorway, moving unnaturally as if it forgot how to seem human. It was going to find her, it was going to find her, it was going to find her…
Glass shattered a few stores down. The shriekers cried out in triumph, scrambling away from her and rushing toward the sound. She knew she needed to stand up, to get away, but she couldn’t force strength into her legs. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. It was too much. Everything was too much.
The door opened and Thea shrunk back as the creature lunged for her. She pushed and kicked, but it was strong—too strong—blocking her attacks and invading her space until its hands locked on either side of her face, forcing her to look at him. His dark eyes seared into her, his handsome face full of purpose, disheveled and wonderful.
“It’s okay,” Jack whispered, his voice solid, stable. “Focus on me. You’re okay. Breathe with me.” She did as she was told, matching his breaths, in and out. She found his rhythm and joined him, taking refuge. Deep beneath his calm she could feel his sense of urgency, but he stilled it for her. He took the time to bring her back.
When he felt he could trust her to maintain eye contact on her own, he brushed her hair from her face to see her better, his expression softening. Rain trickled down her cheek though there was no rain in the closet. He smiled faintly, relieved, rubbing his thumb across her cheek to wipe away the rain.
He had come for her. He had saved her. Warmth spread through her body and she lifted her hands to his, holding them as they rested on her cheeks.
“You good to go?” he asked, and she nodded.
Jojo peeked in the door, tired and small, watching as Jack helped Thea to her feet, as he held her steady until she got her balance.
Thea felt as if she had been shredded and put back together, the memory that had consumed her different from the memory of the woman—more intense.
She couldn’t dwell on it. The distraction would only last for so long.
With Jack’s help and steady presence, the two girls made it back to their bikes without further incident and they rode out of the town as fast as their legs could take them. It wasn’t until they were a mile away that Thea realized how close she had been to losing Jack and Jojo. The realization stabbed through her, leaving her with something new to be afraid of.
Chapter Eighteen
They left the rain and danger behind them and pushed forward. As the clouds cleared, the sun warmed the air, drying their hair and clothes. Thoughts of what happ
ened—of how she almost got Jack and Jojo killed—taunted Thea and she tried to push them away.
They got away. They had survived.
Jack had been smart, distracting the shriekers long enough to save her. If he hadn’t been there, she would have died. If she hadn’t been able to draw the shriekers away from Jack and Jojo, they would have all died. She wanted to pin some blame on Jack, on his wanting to leave the shed that morning, but she wouldn’t let herself. She agreed to leave, and because she wasn’t able to keep herself in check, she put them in more danger. She worried it would happen again.
Her memories were becoming more aggressive, pushing past her mental barriers and seeping into reality. For years they only broke free at night, filling her nightmares and retreating during the day. She knew she needed to confront them, to deal with whatever her past held, if she was going to keep it from putting them in danger.
That night, while they were safe in a mechanic’s garage and Jack and Jojo were asleep, she lay on her blanket and reached into the depths of her mind. Hands clutched and eyes clamped closed, she tried to see into her past, determined to face her problems and keep herself under control, determined to never put Jack and Jojo in danger again.
She ran into a mental wall, blocking her from the terror her memories held. Despite finally wanting to see the horror, some part of her didn’t want to remember, some part wanted to keep her from the truth.
That part was going to get them killed.
* * *
The next morning Thea woke up tired, no closer to a resolution than the night before. If she stayed with Jack and Jojo she would end up putting them in danger again, but she didn’t want to be alone with so much intensity it scared her.
She went through the motions, helping break camp, helping pack their things… She followed Jack and Jojo as they biked down the Highway, allowing them to lead the way. Jack noticed her mood and tried to talk with her, but it was difficult for him to carry a conversation by himself and eventually he stopped. She appreciated his effort, but she couldn’t escape the feeling she was being selfish by continuing to travel with them.