by Sandra Bats
“Unfortunately, it’s not negotiable. Stumbling about those flu vaccines yesterday was almost a miracle. We can actually prevent an epidemic this winter. It’ll only work if we all get vaccinated though.” Jayden smiled encouragingly. “I figured you might not wanna go alone so I held off on my shot until you were awake.”
Oh, what a punch in the gut. I didn’t want to be the reason for an epidemic. That, too, felt scary. In a slow and strangely mechanical manner, I slid out of my chair, stood up and went straight to Jane’s. I forced myself to keep my breath steady but despite that, a few feet from her office my legs simply stopped working. For the life of me I couldn’t keep walking, instead I stood, head against the wall.
I closed my eyes and tried to tune out my surroundings. I was sure there must be a knot of people standing around me laughing. I inhaled deeply. I inhaled again. A third time.
Ok, I’m panicked. But I can do this. I’m in control of this, I thought. I slowly moved my head off the wall and looked around the hallway. Not a single soul had seen me. I stepped up my efforts and went directly to Jane’s office.
I knocked three times and waited for a response. Nothing. I waited for a minute before I gently pushed her door open. Jane was in the back and finished whatever she was doing before she acknowledged me. I took the time to sink into the plush couch by the wall, trying to make myself as small as possible. Jayden entered the room with his sleeves already rolled up. He sat next to me and comforted me — just as he did when I had nightmares. When Jane managed to pull herself away from her work, I understood she wasn’t being rude; just naturally engrossed in her studies. She asked whether Jayden or I would go first.
Eager to delay the horrible moment, I told Jayden to go first, wringing my hands and taking deep breaths.
The two of them interacted like family — polar opposites. Jane was always focused on something, being distant at times and almost cruel in her honesty, whereas Jayden was always multitasking and sunnily optimistic, yet they shared inside jokes and unspoken conversations.
Once finished, Jayden moved to my side, gently nudging me with his elbow to draw my attention to him and away from Jane who rolled up my right sleeve.
Jane didn’t usually explain exactly what she was doing. Instead, Jayden put his hand on my leg, just above my knee and kept me informed about the process — disinfecting my arm, preparing the syringe. His thumb brushed idle circles on the denim of my jeans. I glanced at his fingers, long enough to stretch almost halfway around my leg, squeezing reassuringly when Jane stuck the needle into my arm. I flinched.
“Almost done,” she announced and pressed a band-aid to my arm.
I remained on the couch until I knew my legs were steady enough to stand, but even then, I felt a little nauseous as Jayden and I went back to his office.
“You’re awfully pale. Sure you’re alright?” he asked, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. He seemed to do that every once in a while; reach out to touch me, and at times, like in that very moment, I found myself almost lean into the personal contact.
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m always pale,” I countered.
Jayden smiled meekly. “I meant more so than usual. I just … why are needles such an issue?”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest, sitting in the chair closest to the door. “Can’t you just leave it be?” Sometimes he could be extremely annoying. I hated how all my thoughts and feelings were so conflicting.
Jayden ran a hand through his hair and glanced at me while he leaned against his desk.
“I keep wondering and imagining what happened to you. What you went through to make you so damn terrified.” The way his voice sounded urging, torn as if it actually pained him, left me feeling raw. I stood and turned my back towards him. My words came out almost sounding like a sob.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Because you’re not giving me a chance to! I’m trying to help you, but there’s only so much I can do if you don’t tell me what happened to you.”
I spun around, offended by his words, my hands clenched tight.
“There is no point in telling you. You can’t fix me. And even if you knew you couldn’t. So please, just leave it alone and stop asking!”
I tried to keep the tremor from my voice and dropped my gaze to the floor. Had I looked at Jayden I was sure I would’ve found pity and I couldn’t deal with that. My past was a dark hole and it was best to keep the memories of it buried. If they made it to the surface they’d do too much damage.
“Elin.” His voice was soft and he seemed apologetic as he stepped forward, carefully placing his hands on my shoulders. “I didn’t want to make you angry. And I didn’t mean to imply that you needed fixing. I just want to help.”
His forehead had pruned up with wrinkles — a result of either pity or worry. His eyes met mine as if he were waiting for an explanation. I didn’t give him one. Even if I’d had the courage for it, I wouldn’t have had the words.
I pulled away, deliberately stepping back so far he had to drop his hands from my upper arms, because his touch was making it so difficult for me to steel my heart against the onslaught of emotions all this caused. I took a steadying breath and told him I needed some air. I knew he meant to be kind, but kindness sometimes broke you as easily as coldness.
“I just want you to know I’m here if you need anything. Anytime. I’m not the kind of person who gives up when things get tough. I won’t give up on you,” he said.
I responded with a weak smile, unable to meet his eyes. I wasn’t sure I could return his promise. That I wouldn’t run when things got tough.
◆◆◆
I spent the day avoiding Jayden. I looked around the atrium, trying to figure out what to do with it and spent the afternoon in the library reading up on the crops I could plant there. At night I ran into Jayden again. We were ready to head into town for trades. Maybe we’d even manage to get ahold of things for the atrium. Admittedly, people weren’t trading seedlings yet, but maybe we could find chickens and get a head start on breeding them.
Jayden carried a share of our med supplies on him as a sort of down payment; however, we’d likely need to return with a car of some sorts to pick up any larger purchases. The first thing on our agenda was food, and Jayden suggested that we look into obtaining grains — rice, corn or similar — to get us through the next few weeks. The chard and game from the woods had tended us for a while, but food was getting scarce once again.
Learning about trades mainly consisted of talking to the locals who roamed the busy streets and rushed from store to store, eager to stay out of the cold. Jayden was talking to one of the out-of-town millers, who delivered wheat to the bakeries, when our attention was abruptly drawn to turmoil down the street.
The noise drew many people in and we curiously walked in its direction. The massive crowd blocked the view from me. Jayden grabbed my hand, pushing towards the center of attention, and dragged me behind him.
A troop of military police had a child restrained, shouting at him and at the people trying to come to his aid. Tear tracks had left bright lines on his otherwise dirt-caked face. It looked as if the situation could tip any moment; tension was already running sky-high as the MPs hovered their hands over their guns — demonstrating their superiority.
“What happened?” Jayden asked another bystander.
“He stole bread. He was hungry,” the gray-haired guy responded, looking sympathetic but as helpless as anybody else.
A few people tried to bargain with the military for the child’s life, offering to pay for the bread while others stood by crying, already knowing it was in vain.
Homeless thieves were to be executed and made an example of so that no one else would even think of stealing. Soon the voices defending the boy — he couldn’t have been older than ten — would quiet down, their owners too afraid of their own punishment. After all, they had their own lives and children to care for. Overall, nobody disobeyed the mil
itary.
I glanced at Jayden and indicated that we had to do something. He scanned our surroundings and pulled me from the crowd towards an old residential building. With four stories, it was the highest one around. Jayden raced up the stairs, taking two at a time. We reached the top, where Jayden threw himself against the heavy steel door and pushed it open.
He moved over to the side of the rooftop where we had a clear view of the scene below. The boy was kicking and screaming as the military pushed him to his knees, execution style, a gun pressed to the back of his head. For such a small body, the boy put up quite the fight. I felt a scream rise in my throat.
Jayden had one knee pressed to the ground, and he slipped the rifle off his shoulder, steadying it against the narrow brick railing. He aimed at the scene. His plan had too many faults: it was dark, the sight was certainly not the best despite the street lights, and everybody was moving. Without looking up, Jayden raised his voice.
“After my shot, we will run. No discussion, no looking back!”
“They’re too far away. You could hit anybody!” I objected.
“I won’t. Trust me.” He took a deep breath, then let the air escape his lungs and he moved his finger on the trigger.
The crowd erupted in chaos when the cop who had held the gun to the boy’s head suddenly dropped to the ground and the other officer let go of the kid. Somebody from the group of bystanders picked the boy up, disappearing into the crowd with him. Jayden, already back on his feet, pulled me towards the stairs.
I stared at my feet, concentrated on sprinting down the metal stairs, focusing as hard as I could to not miss one. We hit the ground floor and exited through the door into the street. The military was already pushing through the crowds and one of them called out, pointing at us. As we sped up, bullets zipped past our heads, lodging into the wall as we turned the corner.
Jayden made a turn and fired a few shots at the MPs then he caught up to me, both of us ducking down another alley, running towards the city center.
My blood whooshed in my ears, and each step reverberated through my body as I pushed myself to run faster but I was out of breath, as was Jayden, one glance verifying we wouldn’t have a chance to outrun them, especially if they brought in more men.
Instead of running farther down the street, we ran into an old warehouse, held our breath to slide the heavy steel door closed behind us as quietly as possible.
I blinked to adjust to the darkness. Jayden was already looking around, motioning at me to be quiet as he pointed towards the back of the lofty area, where large shipping containers were located.
“Up there,” Jayden whispered, pointing to an open container stacked upon the one in front of us.
He stepped closer, interlocking his hands to give me a boost. With his help I managed to pull myself up. I turned around to see whether he needed help, but he’d already found a foothold on the door mechanism of the other container. As we sat inside, we caught our breath and, in a whisper, I asked what we’d do next.
“We wait. They’ll keep looking for a few hours. They don’t have enough resources to waste on scouring the streets, looking for us. As soon as enough time has passed, we won’t be of any interest to them. An example is only useful if the crime we’d be punished for is still fresh in people’s minds. We just sit it out and then sneak home.”
I leaned against the wall with a huff and shook my head at him. “That’s your great plan? Hide in an abandoned warehouse and hope they won’t find us?”
“We’ll be fine. Have a little trust. My luck hasn’t run out yet. I’m sure it won’t today. Neither of us got hit so we have time to wait around.” After a pause he added: “You didn’t get hit, did you?”
“No, I didn’t.” Annoyance colored my voice. “But I’m not keen on just waiting here like sitting ducks.”
“Oh, come on. Getting bored is the worst thing that’ll happen, so how about we talk about something?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I said.
“Nope, dead serious. They won’t dispatch additional troops just to look for someone who kept them from shooting a kid. I only hit the MP’s kneecap. It’ll be fine.” He got up and moved over to my side of the container, sat down next to me, pulling a flask out of his jacket. “Drink?”
My throat was dry from running and I greedily lifted his flask to my lips. Cool liquid hit my tongue and I swallowed a large gulp before I noticed the odd taste and the burning in my throat, immediately bending over and trying to muffle my cough against my jacket. Cussing under his breath Jayden took the flask from my hand and patted my back, waiting for me to catch my breath.
“Thought it was water?”
“Obviously! Why would you pass me … whatever that was, without a warning?”
“It’s whiskey. I confiscated it from Alex. I’m sorry.” He chuckled, taking a sip himself. “You should’ve seen your face!”
“I hate you,” I muttered, only for him to laugh quietly.
“Nah. I’m growing on you. Otherwise you wouldn’t have trusted to drink without asking what it was.”
“Yeah, great. See where it got me.”
“Next to me? There are worse places to be.”
I groaned quietly. “Oh come on, just shut up.”
We lapsed into silence and I stretched my legs in front of me, glancing around in the dim light. I could just barely make out the end of the container, empty except for us, and the outline of Jayden’s body next to me, long legs stretched out, crossed at the ankles where his pants were tucked into heavy boots. His head was tilted back against the wall and his relaxed posture at least assured me that he believed we were safe there, a notion that allowed me to pay a little less attention to outside noises.
I tilted my head back as well and closed my eyes for a moment. The weariness in my muscles and the yawn that fought its way past my lips reminded me that it was past midnight and that the adrenaline was wearing off.
“You could sleep if you want to. It might be a few hours,” Jayden uttered, pulling out his pocket watch and glancing down at it.
“I’m fine.”
He turned his head towards me and I could have sworn he was grinning, although it was much too dark for me to see anything. “If you say so.”
I decided I had to stay up just to prove him wrong. If I didn’t, he’d never let me hear the end of it. Grasping for some distraction, I asked about the shot he’d taken from the rooftop, the shot he shouldn’t have been able to take so placidly. He seemed bashful about it, reaching up to rub his neck before he responded.
“I just … I’ve always been good at that kind of stuff, I guess. Practiced quite a bit and made sure to get better. Nothing big. Surely not the most interesting thing about me.”
“It seems to me. That was an amazing shot!”
He chuckled awkwardly. “You’re making me all embarrassed. Ask me about something else. Anything else.”
I blew out a breath in contemplation. “How about … Uhm … Have you ever been in a situation like today before?”
He laughed, “More than I can count. Not all of them ended as well as this one, though. You know … I could imagine being off worse than sitting around with you.”
“I bet. Doesn’t mean sitting here with you is my favorite pastime,” I joked, causing him to mock gasp.
“You wound me. Getting shot’s really painful, I should know. Happened to me a couple times. Hanging with me, on the contrary, is a much better way to pass your time.”
A smart retort didn’t reach my mind. Instead, I was surprised at his past. “A couple times? You’ve been shot more than once?”
“Three times. Not including the graze Alex gave me.”
I turned towards him, trying to make out his face to discern if he was messing with me, but he seemed to be serious. “How are you still alive?” I asked, having to remind myself to keep my voice quiet.
He chuckled under his breath, his fingers fumbling with the closed flask. “Depends on who you ask.
Cam says, I got more luck than judgment. Jane’d tell you it’s all her doing and then she’d tell you about the time I fell off the roof and got impaled by a rusty steel bar.”
“Oh come on, now you’re just bragging. You didn’t really get impaled! That would be … ridiculous.”
“Might be ridiculous but it’s true. The roof had storm damage and Cam and I went up while it was raining to fix it. I slipped and fell onto a stack of scrap metal out back. Jane said I almost died that night. A steel bar went through my torso, almost scratched my kidney and punctured my diaphragm before it came out the other side. I have the scars to prove it.”
He moved closer to me and pulled up his shirt. Luckily, it was too dark to see much of anything. Thankfully, that also meant he couldn’t see how red my face must’ve been, judging by the heat. When I told him I was virtually blind, he snatched my hand and pressed it to his skin.
I gasped in shock, feeling the bumpy skin of a scar under my fingertips, my fingers apparently close to his sternum. If I’d thought my face was hot before, there surely was no comparing it to how it felt at that moment. I pulled my hand back as hard as I could, slipping it from Jayden’s grasp, awkwardly staring at him in the darkness. That little shit was actually sitting there, still watching me and shaking with quiet laughter. Seething, I reached out and shoved him, making him laugh even more with a suppressed chortle that escaped his throat.
“I bet your face is as red as your hair now,” he murmured.
“I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.”
Thirteen
Jayden
Elin ignored me for almost a half hour. Pretty sure she would’ve kept going if not for the scratching noise of the warehouse door sliding open. At once, Elin tensed next to me. Her head swiveled to stare at me in the dark.