The Seventh Hour

by Tracey Ward

  In fact, I think I feel worse for the girl. Mason may have gotten his heart broken, but she has to spend the rest of her life knowing she slept with Holster.

  Ian’s room is clear. Guy’s a neat freak. There’s not even a shoe out of place in the closet. His gun is impeccably clean in the case, smelling of fresh oil like he cleans it every day.

  As I’m snapping the case shut a thought suddenly occurs to me.

  Liv’s necklace. It’s in my gun case. A case Captain Fuller is probably opening right now.

  I bolt out of the room, running for me door. Fuller is inside. I can hear him rummaging through my room.

  “Sir!” I call from the door.

  “Did you find something, Grayson?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Keep looking!”

  “I need to tell you something. It’s about what you’re going to find in my room.”

  “You mean in your gun case?”

  I lick my lips nervously. “Yes, sir.”

  He appears in the living room, looking at me impatiently. “I think what I’m most concerned about is how you got it. Is the code on Crestin’s safe so easy to crack?”

  “No. I didn’t steal it from her office. That necklace is Liv’s. I’m keeping it safe for her. Crestin has her mom’s.”

  “You mean to tell me that both she and her mom were wearing necklaces that big at the same time?”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “What was the occasion?”

  “According to Liv, dinner.”

  His face registers open disgust. “Just one of those things is worth enough to run this entire town for a year, and they’re wearing them to dinner on a Tuesday.”

  “I know. I felt the same way when I realized.”

  He shakes his head, sick of the subject. “I left it in the case. I was going to talk to you about it later. I’ll check with Crestin to make sure she still has the other necklace. If she does we won’t talk about this again.”

  “I swear to you, she’ll have the other one. I didn’t steal it.”

  “I believe you, but I have to check. Just like I have to finish searching the rooms of all of my men, even though I know we won’t find anything.” He nods to the door, dismissing me. “Get back to it.”

  I sweep the rest of the rooms on this floor and by the time I meet up with Captain Fuller in front of Fren’s place I have hardly anything to show for my efforts.

  “I found needles and vials in Becket’s room, but he’s a diabetic. It’s all insulin,” I explain.

  Captain Fuller nods in agreement. “I found a cigarette in Krysan’s room. It could be a joint.”

  “Are you going to bust him for it?”

  “No. It’s not what we’re looking for.”

  “What exactly are we looking for?”

  The door at the end of the hall opens up. Fren and Krysan come toward us, their hands empty.

  “Did you find anything?” Captain Fuller asks sharply.

  Fren shakes his head. “Nothing. Everyone was clean.”

  “That’s what I thought.” He grabs his radio, tossing me his keyring. “Lock ‘em up. I have a call to make.”

  I get to work pulling doors shut as he disappears into the stairwell.

  “Did he tell you what he was looking for?” Krysan asks anxiously.

  “Pot. Joints,” I lie casually. “He’s on a rampage about it. People are getting fired tonight.”

  Krysan looks like he’s going to faint. His face drains of blood, his mouth falls open wide. His eyes go unfixed and glassy.

  I laugh, smacking his shoulder as I pass him to the next door. “Chill out, man. I’m messing with you.”

  “You—wait, what?” he stutters.

  “He found your joint. He doesn’t care about it. He said it’s not what we’re looking for.”

  “So what is?” Fren insists impatiently.

  “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. All he said was that we didn’t find it.”

  “Who is he calling?”

  “No clue. But from his reaction to finding the dorms clean I’m guessing someone accused us of something. Look, this is gonna take me a while. Why don’t you guys go down to dinner? I’ll meet you there.”

  Krysan grins eagerly. “Cool. I’m starving.”

  “I bet you are.”

  “You got the munchies, buddy?” Fren teases him.

  “Shut up!”

  “You better get rid of that joint.”

  “It’s not mine. I’m hiding it for a friend.”

  Fren laughs, pushing open the door. “They always are.”

  Captain Fuller appears in the doorway, his face set in stone. His eyes are hard on Fren and Krysan. They both quiet immediately, nodding to him without a word as they slip around him out onto the stairs.

  Captain Fuller lets the door bang shut behind them. “Where are they going?”

  “Dinner. I told them to head down.”

  He holds out his hand expectantly. “Go with them. Make sure they don’t mention this to anyone.”

  “People are going to notice their rooms were searched,” I remind him, handing over his keys.

  “And I’ll explain why.”

  “When?”

  “When I’m ready. Now go.”

  When I get there the dining hall is full. It should be only second shifters breaking bread – both Forces and medical – before first shift comes in for dinner. Not tonight. Tonight the room is bustling with the entire Forces crew, all of medical, and from the looks of the clothes I’m thinking the farm crew. At least some of them. We’ve all been pushed out of our homes and no one, not even me, really understands why.

  I grab a tray, fill my plate, and scan the room for a place to sit.

  I spot Liv right away.

  She’s sitting with a few nurses. They’re smiling and talking. She looks so natural, like she’s always been here. Like she belongs here.

  As if she can feel me watching her she lifts her head, then her hand. She smiles faintly as she waves to me, but she doesn’t motion me over and I don’t move to join her. I only nod, giving her a grin. Then I turn away to join a table full of Forces.

  I’ve made a point of not thinking about her all day. I didn’t want the distraction. I didn’t want to take the time to notice that I miss her, but she was right. I do. I got used to having her around and now she’s gone but not really. The change is abrupt and confusing. She’s right there across the room. I could look at her if I wanted to. I could hear her laugh if I listened hard enough. I could walk her home, sit on her couch. Fall asleep with her at my side, her small, cool body pulling the heat from mine.

  I could but I can’t. I want to but I won’t. I’m determined to get through the rest of the day without talking to her. She needs to establish herself here without me and I need to remember what it’s like to be alone. To be a guy without a girl watching his every move.

  And suddenly I know exactly what I’m doing with the rest of my night. What for months I’ve longed to do after work.

  I’m going to turn up my music and drink beer in my underwear.

  Chapter Thirty

  Liv

  Grayson stays late with the Forces crew. They’re laughing the loudest of anyone in the dining hall, all of them shouting and bantering. I even see Holster smiling, a genuine, joyful smile, and it’s amazing how much it transforms him. He’s a handsome guy when he’s not being creepy.

  I leave when the nurses do. I want to say goodnight to Grayson because it feels weird not to but his back is to me. I end up bussing my tray silently and slipping out the door without notice. All of the nurses live at the hospital so I walk home alone. I’ve never done that before. It’s exciting, if not a little sad.

  But not for one second am I afraid.

  When I get to my apartment, though, I’m mad. Violated.

  The place is a mess. My cupboards are open, their contents spilled out over the narrow counter. My couch cushions are at awkward angles. My b
lankets are tossed haphazardly over my bed. When I open my dresser drawers I find them in chaos, everything tossed to one side or the other. I knew it was going to happen, and yet the idea of someone in here where I sleep touching my underwear… it makes me sees stars I’m so angry.

  Across town the nursing staff is feeling the same thing. The farm crew too. Forces will feel it soon enough, just as soon as they’re done laughing it up over dinner. Will they be angry or are they used to this? Captain Fuller and Dr. Kanden talked about it like it was standard. Maybe this happens all the time. I sincerely hope not because if I have to clean up after a tornado every few months I’m going to get very cranky. Maybe that makes me a snob or Princess Posher, but I think it just makes me human.

  I hear the guys when they come back. They’re laughing at first, but once they open their doors they’re shouting. Cursing. Doors start banging. Angry outbursts erupt up and down the corridor.

  I stay in my room. I’m still cleaning up the mess that was made of my home. I don’t take the time to go out and listen to them complain about theirs. Anyway, I already know the answer to my questions. This isn’t normal and they are angry.

  It doesn’t take long to get my place back in order. It’s small. I don’t have a lot of stuff. By the time I’m done the hall has gone silent. Everyone got it out of their system and they’re fixing the problem instead of complaining about it. But I’m sure we’re all silently thinking the same thing; did they find what they were looking for?

  Knock, knock.

  I frown at my door. I can’t think of a single time since I’ve been here that someone has knocked on my door. Grayson pounds on the wall. That’s it. No one gently raps on my door like a civilized human being.

  I don’t like it. It’s off-putting.

  “Hello?”

  No reply.

  Knock… Knock.

  They knock more emphatically. Impatiently.

  This is it, I think sadly. Abby planted the drugs in my room. I’m getting locked up.

  I open the door slowly, honestly ready to find Captain Fuller there waiting with handcuffs and a scowl.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I find it’s only Grayson. “You scared me,” I chuckle.

  “How? Knocking?”

  “No, I thought you—it doesn’t matter. What’d you need?”

  “Can I come in? I have a present for you.”

  I open the door wider. He doesn’t hesitate to dart inside, taking the door from my hand to close it quickly behind him.

  “Are you worried people will see you come in here?” I ask, insulted.

  “Yeah,” he answers unapologetically. He faces me, opening his coat with a smile. It clinks happily, four brown bottles sagging the inner pockets. “I don’t want to get caught bringing you these. You’re underage.”

  “Is that beer?”

  “It’s not apple juice.” He pulls the bottles out of his pockets, parking them on the counter. One of them is already over half finished. The other three are unopened. “I might have started without you. I had to wait until people were back in their rooms to sneak over.”

  “I heard them in the hall. They sounded mad.”

  He snorts. “That’s an understatement. No one likes searches. Especially when they’ve got something to hide.”

  My eyes widen with realization. “The necklace,” I whisper.

  He nods. “Fuller found it.”

  “How have I not been hauled off to jail for stealing?”

  “How can you steal something that’s yours?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that since I got here,” I reply dryly.

  Grayson smiles faintly. “Me too. But don’t worry about it. It’s still in my gun case. I swore up and down to Fuller that it was yours, not your moms, and he said if that checked out with Treasurer Crestin then we were in the clear.”

  “And it did?”

  “Must have if we’re both standing here.”

  I slouch, relieved. “Did they find what they were really looking for?”

  “Not that I know of.” He narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. “Do you know what they were trying to find?”

  “Do you know who ‘they’ were?”

  “Why does it matter?”

  “I’d like to know who rifled through my bras, that’s why.”

  He grimaces, popping the top off a bottle. “Captain Fuller.”

  “No!”

  He holds out the bottle to me. “Here. You need it.”

  I take it from his hand hesitantly. It’s surprisingly cold. “What does it taste like?”

  “Poshers don’t drink beer?”

  “This one doesn’t.”

  “It tastes like beer. I can’t describe it any better than that. Kinda bitter. Sweet like honey. It’s good, trust me.” He lifts his own bottle, the almost empty one, and holds it out to me. “Cheers.”

  I clink mine against his before bringing it to my lips. I watch him take a swig first. He licks his lips theatrically when he’s done, making a satisfied smacking sound.

  I decide not to be a coward. I take a quick drink.

  I’m surprised by how smooth it is.

  “You like it, don’t you?” Grayson asks happily.

  I nod my head, taking another drink. “It’s good. Really good.”

  “Ah, so this Posher does drink beer. She just didn’t know it yet.”

  “I’m not a Posher.”

  “You finish that bottle and I’ll agree with that. You finish the second one and I’ll admit that you might be a Gaian.”

  I finish the first bottle before Grayson cracks his second. I’m almost done with the second before he’s halfway through his.

  “I met Mason today,” I tell him, curled up on the couch. He stands leaning against the kitchen counter, his hand in his pocket and his beer held loosely by the neck. “He was high on visher venom. He played with my hair for over five minutes. I don’t think he even knew he was doing it.”

  “Nice,” Grayson chuckles.

  “You’re turn.”

  “Let’s see. I worked with Easton. We repaired the damage to the doors. We had to bring in the welding crew. Krysan stood too close to them and a spark nearly caught his boot on fire.”

  “Classic,” I giggle.

  “How was life with Abby today?”

  “Oh, it’s not Abby anymore,” I tell him excitedly. “I changed her name.”

  He snorts. “How did you do that?”

  “She made me mad so I started calling her Gabby instead of Abby. She calls me out on it every time and I pretend I don’t know what she’s talking about. She hates it.”

  “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. I’m getting in on that.”

  “You should. It feels amazing.”

  Grayson takes another swig of his beer, his eyes on my hands. He’s thinking. Pausing. Three… Four.

  “I’m one of the guys who searched the apartments,” he admits seriously. “Don’t tell anyone. I don’t want them feeling like I stabbed them in the back. I had to pick a couple of other guys to do it too.”

  “Fren and Krysan?”

  “How did you know I picked them?”

  “Grayson, really. Who else would you pick?”

  He shakes his head in disbelief. “Anyway, we searched every apartment. We didn’t find anything. I don’t even know what we were looking for.”

  “Narthenol,” I tell him without hesitation. “And three syringes, but I think mostly the Narthenol.”

  “Narthenol? The sedative?”

  “Yes. I did inventory on the supply closet today. A bottle was missing. They think it was stolen sometime between the attack last night and this afternoon.”

  “Do they have any idea who took it?”

  “None. That’s why they organized a search of Forces, Medical, and Farming all at the same time. They wanted to surprise everyone.”

  “Good, that means you weren’t freaked when you got home and found your place trashed. I was worried about you
.”

  “No. I expected it. Kind of. I didn’t know they would tear my cupboards apart.”

  He opens his eyes mockingly wide. “Did they touch your cheddar snaps?”

  “You’re making fun of me, but I was so mad when I saw them tossed out on the counter!”

  “I’m sure they’re still edible,” he laughs. “At least to you and Easton. Not the rest of us. Never the rest of us.”

  “Don’t worry about it. They’re still good. I’m going to gorge myself on them in the morning.” I bring my beer to my lips, frowning. “I was still angry, though.”

  “I don’t blame you. Especially now that you know the Captain has touched your untouchables.”

  I throw a small pillow at him, catching him square in the chest.

  “Take it easy,” he laughs, tossing it back. “He searched my room too. And Fren’s. And Krysan’s. Even Holster’s.”

  “Ugh. That poor man.”

  “Don’t feel too sorry for him. He spent ten minutes with his hands in your—“

  “Stop right there or we aren’t friends anymore.”

  He grins, coming over to sit on the couch with me. “I told myself I wasn’t going to talk to you today.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?”

  “Because I really wanted to.”

  I shake my head, feeling myself falling. Slipping down into the mush that melts in my heart every time I’m near him. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I know.” He looks down at the bottle in his hands, dragging his fingers through the moisture building on the outside. “I thought it’d be smart. Help us get used to not talking every day. Not knowing everything the other person did.”

  “That does sound smart.”

  And sad.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “But then there was beer,” I sing softly.

  He smiles, looking up at me through his impossibly thick eyelashes, dark and severe. “Yeah. Then there was beer.”

  “And now you’re here.”

  “That rhymes,” he whispers, leaning infinitesimally toward me. “Are you writing a song?”

  “I think we both are.”