Within These Walls: Series Box Set

by Tracey Ward

  “Maybe they were in the Colony that fell.”

  He nods grimly. “Maybe. Right now you’re my only sure thing. I watched you fight when they tried to take you. Even when they had you and you knew it, you didn’t hesitate to put your knife in someone. So, please, tell me that girl is gonna be able to man up and handle this.”

  I glare at him, surprised to find myself breathing deeply. Evenly. Angrily.

  “Can you handle it?” he presses.

  “I can handle it,” I growl.

  He grins at my annoyance. “There it is, Kitten.”

  I make it through lunch because I have to. Vin doesn’t say anything to Breanne or Nats about my problem but he sits us at a table on the outskirts of the room nearest the door. We eat in silence and though it’s just bread, fruit and vegetables, it’s delicious.

  After lunch we get ‘The Grand Tour’ as Caroline laughingly calls it because she is just hilarious, and I find that the Colony is everything I dreamed it would be.

  Absolute. Pure. Torture.

  This building is huge and we don’t even see all of it. Apparently a lot of it is used for ‘storage’, though storage of what we aren’t told. We also aren’t invited to ever find out. Most of the interior is broken up into work rooms, though quite a bit of it is sectioned off as living space. There are bathrooms, though not all of them work so you have to be careful, the showers, a common area that looks like it used to be an exhibit with a large TV and some seating, the kitchens beside the cafeteria and a large open area that was probably once the main exhibit but is now filled with beds. An old green airplane hangs high above in the ceiling, something I imagine could easily snap and crash down on unsuspecting sleepers, but what do I know? There’s also a pink truck shaped like a foot. I don’t ask. In fact, I don’t ask anything. I don’t say anything at all because with each step I take through this building, I panic a little more. People are everywhere, talking so loudly, constantly walking by, brushing past me, touching me to say hello as Caroline introduces us. I’m sweating rivers under the thin material of my prison clothes.

  She shows us a large maintenance room where the electrical side of things is run and I finally get a reprieve from the crush of people. The generators are here, the solar batteries being charged by the panels on the roof and another set of batteries being charged by a small wind turbine set up outside in the yards. It all looks intricate and confusing to me but this is how they live. This is how they have hot running water, lights moderate heat and a functioning kitchen.

  Outside is the small agricultural area we saw before. I also notice that they’ve taken the time to bring in high fences that run the three water sides of the property. No waiting for summer and swimming for freedom. How did they know? It’s almost like they’re as accustomed to keeping people in as they are to keeping zombies out. There are gardens and a greenhouse out here to be tended with small fruits and a lot of vegetables. There are also sections designated for various crops and they have livestock to be looked after; cows to be milked, eggs to be gathered.

  Inside there are meals to be prepped, fruits and veggies to be canned and preserved, breads to be baked. The maintenance room needs bodies, the guards need people on rotation, there’s sewing to be done. And that’s all great. I’m actually in love with and on board for all of that. But what makes me want to scream in this woman’s fake Barbie face is that I don’t want to live here. I’m a butcher, not a baker or a candlestick maker, which, by the way, was on the tour as well. This entire community thing is not for me. I get it now, what Vin said about me earlier; I’m a wild thing. I belong in the wild, in the woods, in the streets. In danger.

  When they showed me the giant room full of beds, I almost vomited. I can’t take this. It’s too crowded, too closed in. It’s too clean. Don’t get me wrong, I like being clean. I loved that hot shower and I will happily drink their milk until I get sick and die, but my problem with a lot of this is that it’s like they’re playing at normal. They’re trying to pretend that they can hide behind these concrete walls and the world outside isn’t dead and rotting at their doorstep. Their backyard is flooded with sewage and their solution is to draw the blinds.

  People like me and Vin and Ryan, we live out there in the ugly and we look it in the eye every single day. We’re out there trying to reclaim what was lost while these people are hiding away, pulling us in and trying to make us part of the fantasy that all can be bright and beautiful again if we just close our eyes to everything that’s real.

  I can see it on Vin’s face too. As we walk through the tour Breanne gets happier by the second. I watch as he distances himself from her. She’s lost to this place and he knows it. And who knows? If I was doing what she was on the outside, then I might be quick to sign up too. I’m not judging her for wanting this. I’m not judging anyone who would. What I am judging is the way they go about it.

  “I want to watch this place burn,” I say to myself.

  Vin chuckles softly beside me. “You and me both, sister.”

  “Is this like what you guys have at The Hive? Is everyone sitting pretty these days but me?”

  “No, not even close.” He glances around the common room we’re standing in, his eyes landing on the 50in TV and brightly colored bean bag chairs. “This is almost grotesque.”

  “It’s messed up, right?” I ask, glad he sees it the way I do. “It feels obscene somehow.”

  “Kinda disrespectful.”

  “Exactly. They’re delusional.”

  “This one especially,” he mutters, gesturing to Caroline.

  As though feeling his eyes on her, she turns to face us.

  “Everything all right?” she asks sweetly, the hard set of her mouth not matching her tone.

  Vin grins at her. It’s the same one he gave me in the van; all sex and charm. “It’s amazing.”

  “We were just talking about how nice it is to be warm and dry,” I agree, smiling at her.

  “Wonderful.” She doesn’t believe a word of it. “Well, that’s the end of the tour. Let’s move on to dinner, shall we? It’ll be a great chance for you to meet new people.”

  We start to file out of the room, Breanne following the three pretties like a happy puppy, Nats following warily and Vin and I bringing up the rear.

  “’New people’?” I whisper to him. “They’re going to separate us again.”

  “You cold and wet a lot, Kitten?”

  I frown at him, startled by the question. “What are you talking about?”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I don’t know. Yeah. Everyone is.”

  “No,” he replies, his tone low. “Not everyone is. Nats isn’t. Breanne isn’t. I’m not.”

  “You’re in The Hive, that’s completely different. That’s practically a Colony.”

  He glares at me. “We’re not the Colonies.”

  “You know what I mean. The size of your gang compared to the others is huge. You don’t have to hide like a lot of us do. In fact, you pretty much advertise your location. We all know where you are but none of us are dumb enough to come at you. I can’t light fires half the time because someone is bound to see the smoke, and in case you haven’t noticed, this is the Pacific Northwest. It tends to rain a bit. So yeah, I’m cold and wet a lot.”

  He shakes his head, looking annoyed. “You should join The Hive. You’re a beautiful girl. You’re high currency.” He looks me up and down, taking in every curve of my body. “You’re a hundred dollar bill, Kitten. An item would have to be pretty rare for The Hive to be willing to burn a Benjamin like you.”

  I scowl at him. “Is that supposed to be flattering?”

  “It’s supposed to be honest. And it is. I’m not stroking your ego, I’m being real. You’d hardly have to work. You’d be a trophy piece more than anything else. You’d be warm and dry, better fed.”

  “Why is everyone trying to save me lately? Ryan, the Colonists, you. I can take care of myself just fine.”

  “Who’s R
yan?”

  “No one,” I grumble.

  Vin grins wickedly. He nudges my shoulder as we walk. “You got yourself a guy, Kitten?”

  “No.”

  He watches me and waits.

  “Maybe,” I admit grudgingly. “I don’t know. Kind of.”

  He shakes his head sadly. “Giving it away for free.”

  “You’re warped.”

  “Is he an independent too?”

  “No, he’s got a crew.”

  “And they don’t know about you, do they?”

  I shake my head fiercely.

  “What crew does he run with?”

  “I don’t actually know their name. I just know where they are.”

  “Really? Where are they?”

  I give him a long, blank stare. What am I? New? Ryan didn’t sell me out, I won’t sell him out. I owe him that much.

  Vin chuckles. I nearly stumble forward when he suddenly slings his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in close beside him.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs, giving me a squeeze.

  Chapter Twelve

  They keep us fat and happy for another two weeks. Every meal is delicious, hot and filling, every night is spent in a soft bed with a warm blanket, and we’re allowed a hot shower once per week. It is Heaven and it is Hell.

  I’m not doing well with all these people. I’m barely sleeping and Vin is sometimes all the company I can handle at meals. They tried to make it easier for me initially by putting me in outdoor jobs. First it was the greenhouse and the gardens where I learned to pull weeds and water plants. Not much is growing right now but they say we have to make sure we have seeds to plant for next year and prep the soil for the spring. There is still broccoli, kale and even a few hearty pumpkins that have outlasted the drop in temperature that are growing and need tending. Other than that, though, gardening is as boring as I’ve always imagined it. I ‘accidentally’ break two clay pots in the greenhouse and I’m promptly kicked out.

  Now I’m on guard duty which is a good change but a total joke. I’m tied to a guy named Phil up here on top of the wall of shipping containers with no weapon and no real purpose. We start walking back and forth, he and I starting at one end, another guy at another end. I can see three more people walking the chain link fences surrounding the rest of the property, dutifully keeping the Kraken out. I asked why we needed fences against the water. Phil’s response was priceless.

  “For safety.”

  They never acknowledge that we’re captives here. It’s always ‘Thank goodness we found you!’ and ‘You’ll get used to it. You’ve been away too long.” Away where? Out living my life on my own terms? They act like they’re CPS and we’re runaways or victims of Stockholm’s Syndrome. They will heal us! It’s unreal.

  “Joss, you’re looking the wrong way,” Phil barks.

  I look at him, confused. “How? I’m looking out there. I’m watching for… stuff.”

  “What stuff? What are you talking about?”

  “Well, I assume I’m not watching for Risen because,” I throw my arms wide across the city. This area is absolutely swarming with Risen. It’s far worse out here than it is in my part of town. Their moaning is a constant hum in my ears up here. “There they are, pretty much everywhere. And we’re not killing them, which is weird, but ok. So I’m watching for whatever else. Gangs, I guess?”

  Phil shakes his head, ignoring my sarcasm. “No, you’re watching the inner courtyard.”

  “Why? What’s the threat there?”

  “Look, the outside is fine. Just worry about what’s going on inside.”

  I stop following him. “You mean we’re not watching to keep anything out, we’re making sure everyone stays in?”

  “The people need to be kept safe.”

  “From what? The cows?”

  “Themselves,” he says firmly. “Now walk.”

  I follow him but I want to shove him off the structure. I daydream about it for the rest of my shift. Getting out of here was going to be tough but now that I’ve seen all of this, the Risen outside and the guards watching every corner, it feels impossible.

  “That’s why they showed it to you,” Vin tells me.

  We’re standing in the back of the common room after dinner with some of the people in our rotation. The Colony is divided into three groups who live on three different schedules. It ensures that someone is awake, on watch and working at all times. It’s like a 7-Eleven; it’s always open.

  “Well, it worked. I’m worried.”

  “Don’t be. I’m working on something.”

  “Oh yeah? What?”

  “That.”

  He nods in the direction of a group of women sitting on the floor across the room. They’re watching a movie playing on the television, some bubble gum 90s romance monstrosity that makes me ache for the brilliance that is John Hughes, and I can see Barbie sitting in the center of it. Breanne is with her looking every bit the team player. I’ve already counted her as one of them.

  “Breanne?” I ask incredulously. “What? Is she doing an inside job?”

  I can’t believe it could be true. Breanne is a sweet girl but she is simple. She would find the layers of an onion confusing.

  “No, I am. On her.” He points to my nemesis.

  “Barbie?”

  “Caroline.”

  “Whatever. How are you working an inside job on her?”

  He looks at me pointedly but doesn’t say a word. I stare back at him, not getting it, not until—

  “Oh, God, gross.”

  He grins. “There it is.”

  “But you hate her.”

  “Violently, yeah. Girl’s dead inside. But when a woman offers to get naked for you, you don’t pass that up. Not in this economy.”

  “I would think in your line of work that you’d be at the point where a naked woman is not that exciting.”

  He snorts. “If I ever get to that point, I better be dead.”

  “So are you just sleeping with her or are you getting something out of her?”

  “Oh, I get something out of her. Every time. I’m very thorough.”

  “Again, gross. Are you getting anything useful to the rest of us?”

  “Not yet, but give me time. Right now she’s slumming but once she starts falling in love with me she’ll start spilling her secrets. Pillow talk is very important.”

  “Once she’s in love with you? So this is a long con. The kind of plan that has no hope of getting off the ground before I’m old and gray like you.”

  “Ouch,” he chuckles. “Do you have so little faith in my charms?”

  I shrug, not looking at him. I have no doubt about his charms. In fact, if I was a ten years older…

  “Not your type, huh? Not like your boy Ryan?”

  “Don’t talk about him,” I say quietly.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t like to talk about him.”

  I don’t like to think about him. Not in here. My memories of whatever it was we had, whatever was starting between us, are starting to fade and distort. He’s on the outside living free and wild with the Lost Boys and the part of me that I imagined with him feels far and faint right now. As though it’s ceasing to exist. As though maybe it never did.

  “Will he look for you?” Vin asks softly, his usual careless bravado shelved for a brief moment.

  I shrug, watching the screen fixedly. There’s a guy talking to a girl on the busy streets of a large city. He reaches up to push a lock of her hair behind her ear. She beams up at him like an idiot. Like that small, simple gesture means the world to her.

  “I doubt it.”

  “If he went missing would you look for him?”

  Rain begins to fall. The guy pulls out an umbrella to cover her but she pushes it aside. They’re drenched in an instant, both of them a mess. They kiss.

  I feel the pang in my chest again.

  I nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I would.”

  ***

  Two nights la
ter I visit Nats at her newly assigned work station. She’s in the maintenance room, the place that impresses and intimidates me most. I think it’s because of the dull hum of electricity, something I’ve nearly forgotten about. That of all things feels the strangest to me. Functioning lights that go on and off with the flick of a switch. Power readily available at your fingertips whenever you need it. It was such a huge part of my life before the world ended, one I never actually thought about, and to have it back is almost unnerving. It’s like an old friend you thought was long dead is back and insisting they’re alive. I don’t trust it.

  Nats is thriving here in this room. She’s working with just one other person on her shift. When I sit down across from her at the table where she works, I think I hear him snoring. His head is on his folded arms resting on a desk. He didn’t move when I enter the room.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” I ask, perching in front of her.

  “Good,” she says distractedly, making notations on a chart and frowning.

  “Something wrong?”

  She purses her lips, then tosses the pen aside. “No, not really. I was just noticing how inefficiently they’re using the power here. If they’d divert it from some sections to others at regular intervals, moving with the shifts, it would make so much more sense. They need to create dead zones, yanking the power entirely from areas like the dorms. Someone is always sleeping, why do you need power flowing there? If you need light, use candles. And the useless bathrooms. You can’t flush the toilet but you can turn on the light. Why? It’s ridiculous.”

  I lean forward to look at the chart in front of her. It’s gibberish to me. Confusing, foreign language, Greek gibberish.

  “You got that from looking at this chart?”

  “Yeah, it’s all here, plain as day but none of them want to see it,” she grumbles.

  I shake my head. “Scary as the thought may be, I’m with them. You’re a genius, Nats, cause this all means nothing to me.”