by Kip Nelson
“Not sure we get that luxury. Besides, you know Mack, he's probably doing it to distract himself from thinking about what's happened,” Luis said.
“Maybe.”
“So.”
“So.”
“Lily.”
“Lily.” Grace exhaled deeply and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I'm sorry for what happened.”
“Why are you sorry? It's not your fault,” Luis said.
“It is, in a way. I was the one who tried to help her, the one who trusted her. I should have been more careful, more suspicious.”
“It's dealt with. Are you okay?” he asked pointedly.
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“You killed her, Grace. That's going to take its toll.”
Grace stiffened and glanced away from Luis, looking out at the sea of wounded bodies around them. “A lot of killing was done last night. She wasn't the only one. It's just something I'm going to have to learn to live with. It’s something we're all going to have to live with. I've changed a lot from the girl I used to be, and mostly in a good way. I just have to remember who I am at the core. I didn't kill because I wanted to do it. I didn't enjoy it. If I can do anything to avoid it then I will, but if push comes to shove, if people threaten those I care about, then I will respond, and I won't apologize for it,” she said with a steely look in her eyes.
“Aww, you care about me!” Luis said, trying to lighten the mood. Grace playfully hit him on the arm, and he feigned being hurt.
They laughed together and Grace adjusted her position to sit beside him on the bed. She caressed his cheek and kissed him softly. As she pressed her body against his, he winced in pain, but when she checked he said that kissing her was worth the pain. As she gazed into his dark, hazel eyes she realized she had an anchor to the world, something she never had had before. Her life had been an isolated one. Emotional attachments had been an alien concept, something from which she had distanced herself, but now she realized how hollow and empty her life had been up until that moment, how much she had missed out on, all because she had been too afraid to dive into the fiery depths of emotion. And it was at that moment she realized she wanted Luis to know everything, to be naked and vulnerable in front of him in a way that she hadn't been with anyone else. She gulped and blew out her breath in a cool stream.
“There's something I need to tell you,” she said. Luis tilted his head and looked at her expectantly, waiting for what she was going to say.
“I don't want there to be any secrets between us, and I know that we've talked about it a little bit, but I want us to try to be together, properly. Maybe some people would be put off by how dangerous it is to fall for someone in this type of world, but I've fallen for you, hard, and I want to explore that, because it's not something I've had any experience with. So please be patient with me as well,” she said, chewing her bottom lip, “but the main thing I wanted to say is that, well, you've known me in this world but I had a life before that. I know we all did but there's something you should know about mine because it might change the way you feel about me now.
“I've told you that Mack and I were on the same plane together, but we actually met before the plane. He was my escort. I had been arrested from crimes against the government. I used to be a hacker and I was, well, I was an enemy of the state when the state existed. I was supposed to be locked up as soon as we landed but the EMP happened and everything changed, and luckily Mack was good enough to trust me. That's part of the reason why we're so close. I'm not ashamed of what I did...I'm not exactly proud of it either, but I did it, and I think it's important that you should know before we get any deeper into this.”
After she finished speaking she took a deep breath and looked exhausted, for revealing that truth had taken a great toll on her. It was difficult for her to relive her past in such a way but gradually she was beginning to get more comfortable with embracing her past self.
Luis looked at her lovingly. “I kinda thought there was something in your past that you were hiding, but I'm glad you told me, and no it doesn't change a thing. I've fallen for you hard as well. There's no-one I'd rather be in this apocalypse with-”
he was about to say something else but before he could finish speaking Grace was overwhelmed with affection and couldn't help but plant a firm, deep, passionate kiss on his lips. Their bodies were locked together when they were interrupted by Freddie, who coughed. The two youngsters pulled away, embarrassed, and Freddie had a look of wry amusement on his face.
“I hate to break up this lovely scene but my patients do need rest,” he said. Grace nodded and gave Luis a quick peck on the cheek.
Her spirits lifted, she walked around the rest of the infirmary to see if there was anything she could help with. She ended up chatting with Mindy for a little while, and the remarkable woman impressed Grace with her endless compassion. Although she had been up all night like everyone else, she still was walking with a smile on her face, saying it would do no good to be sad.
As Grace was about to leave, she noticed Hank was consoling a few people after one of the wounded men had not made it. Grace wandered over and listened to him talk of death, and how the soul passed into another plane, but that it was important we remember them because that's how they gained immortality. He spoke of people he had lost in his own life, and revealed how when he remembered them, it was always with a smile rather than sadness. He wanted to remember the joy they brought him, Hank said.
As she listened, Grace thought about her own parents. She never had known them, and never would know them, so all through childhood it was as though they were dead, and now there were no memories for her to cling to. She literally had no idea what they were like or how they met, or why they even gave her up. She wished she had memories of them like Hank did for his parents and friends. Having no memories like that made her feel as though her life had been a waste, and that it was a life lived without meaning. But now she had friends, she had a family, and although that brought a lot of pain with it, it also meant she felt as though she mattered. She thought of Luis, Mack, and the others, and how they had come to mean so much to her. She also looked around at all the people laying around her, and how they all were connected to each other in some way. She didn't want to hide away anymore, and didn't want to live in the shadows. She wanted to be a part of the world, for better or worse.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tristan was conflicted. As soon as he saw Sharon come up to him, his heart lurched, and he barely knew what to say. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and yet it seemed so dangerous to stare, almost like gazing directly at the sun. To him she was the most beautiful girl he ever could imagine having existed, a modern-day Helen of Troy or Cleopatra. She had golden hair that flowed like a cascading waterfall; a heart-shaped face with rounded, pouting lips; wide, sparkling blue eyes; a button nose; and a womanly figure that belied her age. With just one glance, just one tug at the corner of her lips, she could reduce him to a puddle of ooze, and he would have done anything she said.
The world had not dulled her beauty. If anything, it had magnified it, had given her a freedom she relished, and now, as she clung to him and he felt her trembling body, Tristan closed his eyes and tried to stem the rush of blood that flowed through his body. He never had been this close to anyone before, never had had a girlfriend, let alone a first kiss. There had been crushes, of course, but he never had known what to do about them, and all the girls he liked seemed to like somebody else. He never had spoken to his father about how to go about winning the affection of a girl, and he hated that for some people it seemed so easy when he was left in a mess of confusion, but that seemed to a be a distant problem when the world had fallen into disarray. Other things took priority then, such as staying alive, and then making it through life without his parents.
He remembered vividly the first time he ever had laid eyes on Sharon. He already had been part of the Lost Children, and at that time there were few in the group who were of a simila
r age. He knew Peter wanted to recruit older children to help keep the little ones in line and make the group more of a force. They had found Sharon cowering in a corner, looking like a runt, with dirt on her cheeks, nibbling on a morsel of moldy bread like a mouse. She was skinny and tired and, much like anyone else who had been stranded in the city, appeared days from death. But they had rescued her. He, Peter, and the others had helped her up and given her food and water and new clothes. She was always beautiful, even then. The first time Tristan laid eyes on her, he knew he was looking at someone special, but he never knew how to articulate his feelings, and he didn't expect she shared them.
Over their time with the Lost Children they had worked closely together, but their relationship never had been anything other than professional. She was a hardened warrior, one of Peter's most loyal ones, and was fierce in battle. Her soft features took on a sharper tone as she wielded her gun with precision. She took no prisoners and, in a lot of ways, reminded Tristan of his mother.
After they rescued her, Sharon seemed to cloak herself in an impenetrable armor. It was a look Tristan knew well. He had seen it in many other people since this whole thing began, and he now could see it in people throughout the settlement, too, especially here at the funeral. Most people were letting their emotions out, but some were staring numbly into the middle of the fire, transfixed, almost looking past it, through the veil of reality, into something deeper, until they were looking inside themselves. But rarely did Sharon let her emotions through, and Tristan always lamented this.
Whenever he met someone new, he tried imagining what they had been like before the world had changed. Some people, such as his mother, did not change that much. He imagined Sharon had changed a great deal. She rarely spoke about her past. When she did, she referred to it as though it had happened to someone else, but Tristan wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to be near her, and extract all those mysteries she never would tell another soul. He wanted her to look at him with trust and adoration, and let him share her burdens, but so far it was a love that was unrequited, and unspoken.
Nights had passed where he had torn himself up inside, trying to rip the feelings from his heart because there was no place for them in this new world. They had a mission. It was too dangerous. And it was something adults did. They were beyond adults. He should have been beyond his feelings, but he simply could not let them go. Whenever he closed his eyes she was there, whenever his heart beat it was for her, and whenever he began a new day he hoped she would be a part of it. Much of his self-torture at leaving the Lost Children was because he was leaving her behind, and he hated her to think of him as a traitor.
Yet, now she was standing with him, holding him tightly. Her tiny hands clutched at his jacket. Her head rested next to his heart. He had his arms around her shoulders and his chin rested against her head. He wanted to make sure he said the right thing, but he had no idea what to do, because he wasn't used to his dreams coming true. For the time being, he held her, and tried to be an adult about it, because there was no time to be a boy anymore. He had seen and done too many things to be considered anything but a man.
The two of them stayed on the outskirts of the crowd, watching the funeral from afar. Tristan barely concentrated on what Hank was saying as his mind was hazy with Sharon so close to him. Whenever she made a little adjustment; sniffing back her tears, running her hand over his arm, or shifting her weight from foot to foot, powerful tremors ran through his body. He noticed Mack glancing over at the two of them and felt self-conscious. His mother noticed, too. At some point soon, he would have to talk about his feelings for Sharon, and that was the last thing he wanted to do with his mother, but he was glad Sharon had shown up. He just was puzzled as to why, and how.
After the funeral had ended, Tristan took her back to his apartment, away from the crowd. He closed the door behind him and offered her a seat. The two of them hadn't spoken much. Tristan never really did know how to speak to Sharon because he always was afraid he would say the wrong thing, but now she was sitting there alone with him. They sat next to each other on the couch. Through the window, they could see everyone moving about busily, while in the background the fire burned so brightly they almost could feel its heat from inside.
“It's a nice place you have here,” she said in a soft voice, and for the first time he noticed how vulnerable she sounded.
“They're good people,” he replied. After a few moments of silence, he added, “You can stay here if you want. I'm sure they won't mind.”
Sharon sniffed and smiled. “I don't know, I bet you only got in because of your mom. Nepotism at its finest,” she joked.
“They just got attacked last night. There's another dangerous group out there. So many people died. I almost forgot what it was like, but seeing it now...it's not a game. Somewhere along the way I forgot that. Maybe I wanted to, maybe I wanted to pretend that we all were playing make-believe, but I watched people get shot. I heard them cry out for mercy, and the only thing I could do was hope that I made it through the night.”
“And you did.”
“I did.”
“It's never been a game, Tristan. Maybe for the younger kids, because they don't understand it properly, but for you and me...we've always known the real deal. We've done and seen too much to not know. This is just the way the world is now. It's never going to end.”
Tristan pondered her words. “I didn't expect to see you. How did you find me?”
“Is that the welcome a girl gets?” Sharon said, raising an eyebrow.
“I'm glad to see you, of course, more than you could know,” he said, then quickly added, “I'm just surprised, that's all. I didn't think I'd see anyone from the Lost Children again.”
“I guess it was either my expert tracking skills, or just dumb luck.”
“I guess...why did you leave? You seemed happy there.”
“So did you,” she shot back instantly. Tristan turned away from looking at her and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Peter was going to kill my mom. I couldn't sit by and let that happen.”
“You could have let her go and stayed with us.”
“And let Peter torture me until we hunted them down? No, I knew that once I made my choice I was going to have to go with them. Besides, she's my mom. Are you saying that if your parents had shown up you wouldn't have gone with them?” A flicker of sadness came across her face but it passed in an instant.
“I don't know. So, you weren't thinking of leaving before that?”
“Of course not! I was loyal, I believed in the cause, I liked being a part of it, but then he said he was going to execute my mom, and I just lost it. I couldn't stand by him anymore, not after he said that. It wasn't right. But what about you? Why are you here?”
“Things changed after you left,” she began in a solemn, haunted voice. “I mean, Peter was always a little bit on the edge, but when he discovered you were gone he flew into a rage and everyone was scared of him. We didn't know what he was going to do.”
“I'm sorry.”
“It's not your fault,” she said, placing a hand on his arm.
“He started ranting and raving against everyone, and I finally saw him for what he really is. I think even the younger kids could see it. He lost focus of the mission and he locked himself away for a few days. When he eventually did come out, the only thing he could say was ranting against you. Then he said nobody ever was going to be allowed to leave the territory again because he couldn't trust that we wouldn't do the same. I didn't see how, given that we needed to go out into the city to explore and find new sources of food and water. You know as well as I do that it's not going to last, but he lost sight of that. He wasn't the king I thought he was.”
Tristan chuckled a little.
“What's so funny?” she asked.
Tristan leaned back against the couch and looked directly at her. “I'd just always assumed he was the type of guy you would h
ave gone for.”
“Maybe...in the past. Truth is I didn't think I'd ever feel like that for someone again. This doesn't seem like the type of world where you should fall in love, but when I found out you had left I admired your bravery, and in the days that went by, I started really missing you. I realized I wanted to see you again, that there wasn't a place for me in the Lost Children anymore. So I decided to leave. It's funny, even when I was sneaking out, I didn't really think it was possible. Peter had made it sound so dangerous to leave, but you proved it was possible, and once the first person left, well, I doubt I'll be the last one to try escaping.”
“I remember that feeling. For a long time I was looking over my shoulder, expecting to see him there.”
“Now we can just look forward,” she said, and placed a hand on his. Tristan's breath caught in his throat as he felt her flesh upon his, and an electric thrill ran through his body.
“It made me see things more clearly, Tristan. I'm tired of feeling lost in this world. I'm tired of being alone,” and as those words left her lips she leaned forward and pressed her mouth against Tristan's.
At first the young man was taken aback and his head swam with chaos, but soon enough it was quelled, and he lost himself in the bliss. He closed his eyes and the world melted away, and in that moment, he was able to forget about the Lost Children, the funeral pyre, the misery and sadness. There was only pure, unadulterated joy within his heart, and he thought it could last forever.
Then there was a cough. Tristan had been so lost in the kiss that he hadn't heard his mother return, and his cheeks now flushed a dark crimson.
“I'm sorry for interrupting,” Maggie said, “but I wonder if I could have a word alone with my son for a moment?”
Tristan glowered, angry at having his perfect moment embarrassed by his mother, but he sensed from her tone that this wasn't a request he could refuse. They walked through to the bedroom. Maggie pushed the door closed and walked up close to Tristan, speaking in a low voice so that Sharon couldn't hear.