by E. R. Arroyo
“I think you should stop calling me that.”
He stares at me, stunned, his jaw slack. He clears his throat. “I asked you a question.”
“We’re trying to figure out if one of the colonies will take them in but I’m not sure if they will. Mercy won’t, I know that. Max is still trying to recruit volunteers and he’ll be sending them here. You might pass the word along to the lookouts. Hopefully we’ll be getting a lot of company.”
He crosses his arms, tapping his fingers on his biceps. “Suppose another spy comes along, they see all this commotion. What then?”
Eyes wide, I blow out a breath. He’s right. If Antius sees colony soldiers in The City they will know something is going on. “So we do our best to carry on like normal. Before we go, we take the women somewhere safe. Is there somewhere close but inconspicuous where we can send the soldiers?”
“Safe? Nowhere’s safe, d—” He bites his lip, then starts walking toward the river, pushing the cart. I get a few steps ahead of him so I can help guide the front end. It’s easier as a two-person job.
“You remember where you found me and Dylan? The place with all those houses?”
He nods.
“Could we move them to a place like that?”
“There’s a place not far away. We’d still need to leave them with security. Can’t leave them unprotected.”
“That’s fine, but we need all the men we can get. Maybe even some of the women if they can fight. We need numbers.”
One of the wheels dips into a pothole and the contents of the vat slosh against the cover. We catch it and get it back on level ground before Tyce responds. “The girls know how to protect themselves, ya know, but they’re not killers. They’re not like you. It’s why I was so smitten with you to begin with.”
“Because I’m a killer?”
He rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. You’re tough. Vicious when you gotta be.”
“Right,” I say, not sure what to make of that.
We don’t speak for a while. When we reach the barrier before the riverbank he grabs my elbow. “Do you want me to stop calling you doll because it makes you uncomfortable or because you enjoy it?”
My eyes are glued to his hand on my elbow as I steel myself, resolved to not show him any emotion that would continue to encourage him. I take a deep breath before I draw my gaze upward to meet his. “We should get back to the others. We can get the guests moved out of The City today. Maybe station somebody on the other side of the river to re-direct new soldiers as they arrive.”
“What proof is it that you’re waiting on? Is it a contest?” He lets go of my arm rather abruptly, then bends to lift the tub, waiting for me to grab the other side. We lift it and carry it over the barrier. Tyce removes the cover then we dump the contents into a large sewer hole sticking up from the dirt. It’s the safest way to dispose of the parts of the animals that we don’t eat, and it feeds the creatures that live below.
A circle of life, so to speak.
“It’s not a contest. There’s nothing to convince me of.”
“Keep telling yourself that, doll face.”
Exasperated, I start to wipe my face but stop myself when I realize my hands are covered in bloody muck. I make my way down the bank to wash my hands in the river. He joins me, acting cavalier as he splashes more water around his hands than actually on them. Such a brute about everything.
He looks up at the clouds then over into the distance where the day is a little darker. “Gonna rain soon. We need to empty the rain tubs before the storm comes.”
After I wash away the last traces of grime from my fingers, I wipe the excess moisture on my pant legs, then hike back up to the street. And I don’t stop until I’m back on Fifth and on my way upstairs to find Flex.
He wakes as soon as I walk in, having accidentally slammed the door behind me.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I’m going to move the soldiers we have outside of The City to avoid suspicion, just in case any more spies come through. Can you show us the way to the nearest place with safe housing?”
He sits up, cracks his neck. “Tyce could show ya.”
“Tyce is busy,” I say.
“Okay, sister, I’ll do it.” He yawns. “Today?”
“I think that’d be best.”
“Let me grab a bite, you get ‘em packed up, eh? Then we’ll go. Stop by the hold on Tenth to get water and food for them. It won’t last them long though.” He tugs a shirt on over his tattooed torso.
“Are you guys willing to use guns? If we have extra?”
“Not opposed, but all of us probably rather use blades.”
“Got it,” I say. “Max thought we should start working with your guys, train them for battle, since you have never—”
He laughs before I can finish my sentence. “We don’t need no trainin’. We were born fightin’.”
A prideful bunch they are, but I can’t argue with that.
By the time I get back to my apartment, four more soldiers have arrived. I tell them we’re moving, and they’re ready in minutes. Dylan, Wayne, and Amy will stay behind. Wayne to help Dylan with the bomb, Amy because I can’t rightly send her out with a bunch of men she doesn’t know. She’s charming and gorgeous with her long blonde hair and shining blue eyes. She doesn’t need the hassle. I’m sure these men are all great, but I’m sure she’d be more comfortable staying wherever her dad is.
When Flex shows up to get us, Tyce is with him.
Great, I think.
We’re all gathered in the street, sweaty from the sweltering heat of the day. With my backpack on my shoulder, I look up at Dylan. “Good luck,” I say, standing on my tiptoes for a kiss. I can practically feel Tyce’s eyes on the back of my head.
“You’re coming back with Flex, right?” Dylan asks.
“No, but I’ll see you soon enough.” I smile, trying to reassure him.
Dylan grabs my backpack strap. “Wait, you’re going to stay out there?”
“I think someone should.” I shrug like it’s no big deal. I didn’t think it would be.
He pulls me aside from the group, lowering his voice. “Not by yourself with all these men. It’s not a good idea, Cori.”
“You’re telling me no?” I demand, not liking the implication that his opinion somehow outranks my own.
He groans, tension mounting in his jaw causing the vein on his temple to bulge. “I’m just trying to look out for you,” he whispers.
I don’t care if he’s angry, or if he has the right intentions. I’m not staying here just because he said so.
Nervous energy ripples off my skin. I’m stunned that this is even an issue. “It’s temporary,” I say, rubbing my forehead. “When Max gets there, I’ll come back.”
Hands on his hips, Dylan’s face shifts as he struggles to make a decision. He lifts his hands at his sides, resigned. “I’ll come with you.” He shakes his head.
“What about the bomb?” I ask.
Dylan rakes both hands through his hair.
Tyce steps up. I hadn’t even realized he’d been close by. “I’ll look after her. Don’t worry.” He touches my shoulder and I swat his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” I tell him. He’s the last thing I need to deal with right now. Taking a step back from him, my foot catches on the curb and I fall backward. Tyce catches me by one arm and Dylan the other. And neither lets go right away, both glaring at each other, chests heaving. I’m a rag-doll in the mouths of two animals.
“I’ve got her,” Dylan growls.
“So do I.”
“Take your hands off her.” Dylan lets me go and takes a fistful of Tyce’s black sleeveless shirt.
Tyce lets go but puffs up his chest, not the least bit intimidated by Dylan’s size. “She likes my hands on her just fine, trust me.”
In the moment it takes Tyce to wink, Dylan’s fist connects with his eye. Tyce reels back only enough to get his bearings. He comes right for Dylan, tac
kling him low, bringing the both of them to the ground. Tyce climbs atop Dylan, punches him in the mouth. Twice. Before Dylan overpowers him and flips him onto his back.
“Stop it,” I shout, looking around at the bystanders doing nothing.
I move toward them to break them up when Flex grabs my arm. “Just let ‘em be, sis.”
They exchange punches and struggle for power over one another. They roll again, Tyce on top only for a moment, then he’s on his side with Dylan’s arm around his neck.
“Ain’t hurting nobody, just need to get it outta their system,” Flex says, crossing his arms like he’s seen this a million times before.
Tyce wiggles in Dylan’s grip, throwing elbows backward that land on Dylan’s ribcage.
This is ridiculous. I take a step forward ready to jump in the middle when Tyce’s fingers begin to inch toward his knife. Without thinking I launch myself at the two, throwing myself into the mix. I wrap both hands around Tyce’s wrist. Heart racing, I wrench the blade free and turn it around on him.
“Back up.” I shove Dylan, grabbing his shirt with my free hand. When he sees the knife and realizes what has happened, he pushes Tyce away. Hard.
Tyce sits halfway up, leaning back on his hands. He looks up at me through his lashes as I hold his own knife in his face. His chest heaves, his eyes locked on mine. His face is hard, vicious, but his eyes betray a hint of shame. Only for a second though, before they harden too. Blood drips from his nose as neither of us speaks. Both our bodies tremble with adrenaline and anger.
I don’t even know what to say to him. The fact that he would consider hurting Dylan so seriously infuriates me and scares me at the same time.
“Well, you’ve made us into savages after all, haven’t you, doll?” He wipes the blood off his top lip.
Before I figure out what to say, Dylan comes thundering back gripping Tyce by the throat and pressing him against the pavement. Tyce’s eyes stay locked on mine and he doesn’t even attempt to fight Dylan off.
“I’ve put up with plenty from you,” Dylan growls. “But if she tells you not to touch her, you keep your filthy hands off.”
Flex and two others drag Dylan away. Someone tells him to cool off, but I’m still staring at Tyce. Disbelieving. His eyes shift again, just enough pain in them for me to realize this isn’t about testosterone or stupid jokes. It’s not about antagonizing Dylan merely on the principle of not liking him. This is about Tyce being hurt that I don’t want to be with him. I don’t think he really believed it until this moment.
I turn the knife around, handing it back to him hilt first. It takes too long for him to grab it and when he does he starts to speak, but I turn my back on him and walk away.
Three men are still attempting to restrain Dylan. Looking down, he straightens his shirt. He lifts a hand toward Wayne, who looks ready to grab him again. “I’m fine,” Dylan says.
I take Dylan’s hand and drag him back inside my apartment. Inside the stairwell, despite being unbelievably angry, I throw my arms around him. I don’t know what Tyce would’ve done or if it would’ve been fatal, but it was too close a call to not serve as a reminder that we’re all putting ourselves in danger. And any breath we breathe could be our last. I always knew that was the case for me. Never really considered it could be for Dylan, too, even when he tried to say so about our upcoming attack.
His strong arms are tight around my waist while I grip his neck, the weight of everything catching up to me. “I’m sorry,” I say, feeling stupid for being the cause of such anger in the two men I care most about.
He pulls away finally and I wipe a spot of blood from Dylan’s lip.
“I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I promise you, Tyce isn’t something you have to worry about. I’m yours. We just need to get through this thing we’re doing. And then we’ll all go our separate ways. Right?”
He nods. Kisses me.
“If he touches you again, stab him.”
Chapter Fifteen
Havenwood Estates sits back a good ways off the road, untouched by the devastation closer to The City. An expanse of tall grass fills the space all the way around the property. The weathered exterior shows signs of gray cinderblocks beneath the yellow paint. This isn’t like the neighborhood I mentioned to Tyce—it is one long building, one story high. Huge, leafy trees tower over the buildings. No longer see-through, the windows are covered in twenty years-worth of dust, muck, and grime. No one’s been here in decades, that’s clear. It exudes loneliness and abandonment the instant we pull up.
Half of the complex has exterior doors, each with a small patio overrun with vines and weeds. The other half looks more like a hospital where the rooms are only accessed from the inside. We’ve chosen to occupy the latter so we’ll be closer together and perhaps less conspicuous, not that Antius would have any reason to look for us here.
In the center of the property there’s an overgrown courtyard with benches and metal handrails along what look like sidewalks underneath the brush. Over time, vines have crept all the way up the walls.
In the hallway’s galley, Dan has set up a lantern and the men have started preparing a meal that churns my stomach. They’re making some kind of stew, which seems like a waste to me. I’m used to the meat simply cooked without the frills.
I don’t know how long we’ll be here, but I would feel a lot better if there was somewhere close by to hunt and find water. We did bring a few rain catchers from The City, though. So if we do get a storm tonight, we should get a good amount of drinking water.
“Do you think more will come?” I hear one of the guys ask, William I think, while I stare absently into the courtyard.
“I heard Smyrna was bringing their entire force,” Phillip answers.
By the end of the day six more guys show up, and everyone starts choosing rooms to sleep in. It’s nice to have so many beds all in one place instead of us all having to sleep on the floor.
I step into the space that I’ve chosen, one relatively close to the entrance. There’s a bed, a chair, and a dresser stuffed into the space, as well as a small counter with a sink near the door. Atop the dresser there’s a black screen.
Carefully, I take the dusty old sheets off the bed and put them aside, then flip the mattress over. I set my bag on the chair as the rain Tyce predicted finally starts to tap on the windowsill, steadily growing in intensity.
“I’m across the hall if you need anything,” Tyce tells me from the doorway.
I don’t respond. But I do close the door.
“Wait… Can I talk to you for a second.”
I stand there for a minute, not moving. I sigh. Finally say, “Sure.”
“Are you going to open the door?”
“No.” I lean against the door, listening. For a minute, I think he’s walked away but there’s a light thump against the door then the sound of fabric sliding down.
When he speaks again, it sounds like he’s sitting on the floor. So I sit down too.
“What is it, Tyce?” I ask, my heart broken for the pain I’ve caused him. And the pain we’ve both caused Dylan.
“Cori…” His voice is soft, like he doesn’t want anyone to hear.
Feeling guilty for not hearing him out I reach for the doorknob, but he speaks before I turn it so I stop.
“I would never force myself on you or do anything to you I didn’t think you wanted.” He clears his throat, his voice thick. “I’ve been treating it like a contest and I won’t anymore… I’m sorry.”
I press my palm against the door.
How could he not think I wanted him to pursue me? I was wrapped around him, kissing him just a few days ago. “I’m sorry too.”
* * *
Men trickle in over the next few days. Our numbers are up to thirty and the men from Smyrna haven’t arrived yet. I don’t know how big their military is, but it probably still isn’t enough.
On the fourth day, I’m on the front lawn filling a jug with water from a rain catcher. I spla
sh a little on my face and the back of my neck to cool myself down from the humid summer heat.
Tyce has kept his distance since we talked briefly the other night. He checks on me sometimes, though he acts like he’s around for some other reason. I thought it would be awkward, but it’s not really. Probably would be if we were actually speaking to one another. I didn’t want it to be this way.
A deep rumble catches my attention. My eyes dart up to the road. A massive military vehicle moves toward us, kicking up dust.
Ten soldiers line up out front with rifles trained on the truck until it pulls up to the circular driveway and Karen steps out with her hands in the air.
“Easy boys,” she says, smiling gently.
I motion for the men to lower their weapons and make my way to Karen, beaming at the sight of her. She hugs me and I lean into it. For some reason, I’d felt like I might not see her again when I left Mercy last time.
“What are you doing out here?” I ask, taking a bag off her shoulder and carrying it for her.
“Heard you were here,” she says. “Thought we’d bring you some food and water.” The driver, a tower guard from Mercy named Boone, gets out and starts passing out the crates they brought for us.
“Are you staying?” I ask.
“No, not long, hun. I need to get back to Mercy. But Boone is staying. A few others are coming too.”
“I didn’t think anyone from Mercy would join us after the stunt I pulled.”
She smiles. “Henry’s pride will heal. As for everyone else, they all have their own opinions. They respected your father. And they are undyingly loyal to Max. He’s treated them well over the years. It’s good you have him.”
“We’d be lost without him,” I say. I notice the stacks of food the men are unloading. “Should we help them?”
Karen props her hand on her lower back stretching her spine. “I think they’ve got it handled. Let’s take a walk, you and I.”
So we do.
“How are you feeling?” she asks.
“I’m okay.” I kick a rock in our path as we walk the perimeter of the property. “If more men don’t show up, though, I’m not sure.”