“Since when do you give a shit about plans, Barbie?” J.D. asks.
His voice holds the threat of anger if I answer wrong or at all. “Great, so we all agree? I’m just going to go again alone?” I ask
him, not smart enough to shut up.
J.D. stops so suddenly, Rhett and Lawless almost trip over him.
J.D. takes the steps between he and I two at a time and I know my face is showing my fear as he climbs towards me. Chapel pushes Aimes to one side and places himself directly in J.D.’s oncoming path. The two men stare at each other. Their eyes are exchanging words their mouths don’t and whatever J.D. sees in Chapel’s is enough to not push the matter in such a tight area.
“You best do your damn job this time,” J.D. threatens to the face of Chapel. “If she gets out, I’m taking it out on your ass.”
Marxx leans on the wall behind Aimes, and with his presence so close to her, it is enough to keep her mouth shut. Even with
J.D. so close, I still have to admit it’s a neat trick Marxx has learned. J.D. mistakenly takes my smile as a threat to him and before Chapel or I can react, he has a handful of my hair, pulling me close to his face.
“If I want you, no one can save you, Barbie,” he whispers into the thin space between he and I. “Not Chapel. Not Lawless. No one. You best remember that.”
He lets me go with the same force he had grabbed me with and it’s Marxx who catches me. J.D. narrows his eyes slightly when he sees who holds me. He hadn’t counted on Marxx. His name was not on the list. With the glare Marxx is sending him, maybe it should have been.
“Let’s get this over with,” J.D. says, turning his back to Marxx. “I feel the need to kill something.”
His threat hangs in the air, but it’s losing some of its heat for me with the two men standing so close beside me. Small blessing Aimes has chosen to stay silent. The looks she casts Lawless is sharper than anything her mouth may have formed. When the noise of Simon and Dolph entering the stairwell comes from above us, we are all moving again towards whatever had upset the woman.
Chapel turns to Aimes and I once our group reaches their motorcycles parked in the courtyard. “You’re not really going to stay inside, are you?” he whispers his questions as the rest of the men are exchanging ammo from their saddlebags to better suit the other’s gun.
“Not a chance,” Aimes answers for me.
Chapel stares at me. I can see his mind working on how to best handle me. My choices will not only land me on the short end of J.D., but also him. The wheels on the bus go round and round as I throw us under them.
“You sure about this?” Chapel asks me. He is giving me one last chance to save us both.
It’s Aimes who comes to our rescue.
“How do you guys plan to carry all that?” she asks the men who are stuffing their pockets like children trying to store candy.
The looks they exchange speak the fact they hadn’t really thought it out. They are just going on normal impulses.
“Give it here,” Aimes walks to the truck, pulling an empty spare duffel from inside the cabin. She walks to each of the men, holding the bag open as they deposit their spare rounds or clips. When she comes to J.D., they both stare at each other. He cups her chin with his spare hand while letting his many clips litter the ground around her with a smile.
“You’re gonna’ be screwed when you unload your first round,” she says to him and adding a smile, she goes in for the kill, “and from what your exes say, it won’t take you too long.”
Pulling the handles of the bag over her shoulder, she pivots, leaving J.D. to clean his mess himself. She holds the bag open for Chapel to store his before zipping the bag closed. She smiles to us as we listen to the chuckling J.D. picking up the mess he made.
You never know with him how he will take a slap to his face. Sometimes your nerve will amuse him. Other times he will make you pay in some twist of irony best suited to his amusement. Aimes was lucky this time or he is just more forgiving with her than he is with me.
“I guess you and I are on ammo duty?” I ask her when the men start walking through the courtyard doors.
“You get to go out and play. Chapel gets to keep his teeth. I get to not sit on the sidelines,” she says. “Seems all a win to me.”
“Depending on what is waiting for us, that is,” I reply as we leave the safety of the high school.
“Can’t be any worse than the cabin or the Welcome Center,” she offers.
“You know happens when you dare life, right?” “You do something stupid?”
“Asks the one who keeps picking fights with J.D.”
“I was wondering if you were going to bring that up.” She smirks at me.
We follow behind the men without a word the rest of the way. The men aren’t chatty either. Their eyes roam the space beyond the gate, looking for any sign as to what had the woman upset. It doesn’t take us long to find it.
A group of Risen has somehow found the metal links keeping them on the other side of the school. They had reset to either resting or thinking before we came upon them. Hearing us, their eyes slowly sway to our direction while their bodies hold still and frozen from their previous actions. I’ve seen it before. It still unnerves me to see how they can all move at once, focusing on us with their eyes locked on our every move.
They come alive. Their voices join in growls and almost screams from somewhere deep in their throats. They shake the fence with their hands as if they are the prisoners and not us who are locked on this side of the gate. The same hatred for us upon their face is mirrored on J.D.’s for them.
“You can drop the duffle, Blondie. We ain’t gonna be needing it,” J.D. says, flat and hollow.
This is not the fight he was itching for, but it is all there is. He’s going to make it personal.
J.D. reaches, not for the large hunting style of a knife he wears attached to his belt, but the small knife he keeps in his pocket. Rhett puts the action to logic and the tips of his lips curl into a smirk the Devil would envy.
All their guns are quickly tucked away in waistbands or bootstraps, being replaced by their small collection of handheld blades. Right on cue from J.D., they follow the man to the fence. The Risen grow excited thinking food is within their reach. The men grow excited thinking a release for their anger is within reach.
J.D. reaches the fence first, standing face-to-face with the creature standing across from him with nothing more than the thin metal fence between them. What is left of the woman is sneering, growling as she presses her face directly to the fence. As I watch their standoff, even with all J.D. has done, my stomach still lurch- es with the risk he is taking.
“You’re one ugly bitch,” J.D. says to her as if he is shocked to see it.
“Waiting for a prom date?” Rhett asks J.D., shoving the thin blade of his knife into the eye socket of the male across from him.
J.D. smiles at Rhett, and not to be outdone, he too shoves his knife through the woman’s waiting face. “You keeping count, Barbie?” he shouts to me as she falls.
“Of the stupid things you do? Check,” I reply.
I hear him chuckle as he forces his blade into another snarling face. The men follow suit, stabbing and violently turning the fight into a hand-to-hand brawl. Their anger takes over their common sense, encouraging them to reach through the thin links to grab fistfuls of hair to steady the heads of Risen before their blades slice and mutilate. The force of their fighting arches the rotting blood, splashing it high on their arms or covering their fists with it. The men are not just taking care of the threat. They are destroying it with savagery and male anger; something J.D. knows how to stroke within them.
Even our gentle Chapel is vicious with the ones he can reach. He is smashing his fist against their skulls, burying his knife as far as he can shove it. His eyes are as glazed as the Risen’s he is attacking. Whatever he is seeing, he is feeding his grief with the utter destruction of what is in front of him. Aimes and I cringe with
each sound the men are making until we have to turn away from the scene.
When the rattling of the fence stills, we look back to see them panting and covered in dark streaks of blood no longer holding any crimson to it. It’s black and it drips from their hands and arms like a river of oil. Lawless laughs first, letting the tension escape from him. Rhett catches next, joining the younger man’s release. Slowly they all start to laugh as they either pat one an- other or lean against the fence dripping the same river. I look to Aimes and she just rolls her eyes, shaking her head.
“You know,” J.D. says. between his ragged breathing, “if they had started to climb, we might have been in deep there.”
I look up to the barbed wire circling the top links and wonder, is that possible? If they can learn to open doors, what chance does a metal fence really have?
“Feel better?” Simon’s voice startles me, and I jump.
The man who must be Richard places his hands on my shoulders to settle my nerves. Rolling his thumbs over them, he whispers to me, “You’re pretty.”
I laugh, remembering the insult Rhett had handed Dolph.
Apparently, Richard has been informed of it as well.
Lawless and Rhett do not take well to my laughter. Lawless’ tightens his hands into fists, sending the river into unsteady drips from the action. Rhett’s eyes watch the man behind me as if some- one has taken his favorite toy away and he’s plotting how to take it back. Chapel shakes his head and I’m starting to feel sorry for the man.
“You boys come out to clean up the mess?” J.D. asks. “Told you we would have it taken care of for you. You didn’t have to rush out here.” J.D. is cleaning the dark matter from his blade on the leg of his jeans. “But since you are here, why don’t you remove your hands from my girl there before I let my boy remove them for you?”
J.D. doesn’t look up with half-masked demand. He acts like Richard is not enough trouble to fully give him any attention. Instead he focuses on making sure his pocketknife is free from gore before snapping it shut, but I catch the small glance he casts towards Rhett and Law. Aimes does as well.
“…but she is wearing my matching bra,” Richard says, and it is all Aimes and I can do to stop the rush of male bodies toward us.
Chapter 27
After Simon helped us separate the many bruised egos, Aimes and I followed Shelia around like lost children for the rest of
the afternoon. She has spent her time checking in on the many families that dwell inside this makeshift apartment building and we have the chance to meet many of the residents within these walls. We are learning that high school is high school. The games seem to have never ended with their politeness cloaking their whispers when they close the doors behind us.
Even with all of their stares and whispering, which I blame on Aimes’ hair, it is nice to be with Shelia. It’s easy to see how genuine she is as I watch her care for these people. She keeps track of every person’s needs as well as the supplies needed to take care of them. Everything from medicine to toys, she makes a tally of what to present to Simon. Their system is almost flawless as the ruling couple. She is their gentle Queen and he is their brave King. Together, they are keeping their little kingdom safe from the monsters that lurk outside.
The three of us have spent a great deal of time bonding over the details of what could be our new life and slowly the shock factor of Aimes’ wit is reducing to slight blushing and laughter for Shelia. She tells us about how most of these people are from the original group who set up here at the school. A few are from fragments of other groups who they have come across as time has gone by. Together, they have all formed this new little community. Even by today’s standards, it’s not an altogether easy life here.
Gardens are planted and tended by various people. Some are given the task to keep the school clean and secure. Others help with the running of the day-to-day needs. In essence, everyone has a job to do. She tells us that Simon believes this way everyone takes pride and care to keep it running smoothly. He wants to keep everyone busy and not lamenting away the days in fear or panic. That I can definitely understand.
When I ask about the little girl, I saw this morning, she tells me her name is Kira and the one Simon asked about yesterday when we first arrived. She is their three-year-old daughter. They were on the verge of divorce before everything changed. I guess who left the socks on the floor is no longer the button pusher it used to be. Hurrah for your neighbors going cannibal to save your marriage, I suppose. I am not sure Hallmark ever thought of that card.
“So, what’s next?” I ask her, after every converted apartment has been visited and the long list of their concerns have been written down to be passed to Simon for review. Some of their concerns make Shelia a saint for even bothering to write them down, much less to actually present them as if they hold any real meaning with everything else far more pressing going on.
“We check in with Paula and Ross downstairs. Paula will be able to tell me which of the medicines Simon needs to keep a watch for and Ross will know where to get them,” Shelia answers, with her normal warm smile. Once again, it’s all so simple.
“I don’t get it. Why will Ross know where to get stuff?” Aimes wears her doubt. It puts a frown on her face.
“He was a taxi driver. Taking people to different locations was his job. It allows for a lot of stored knowledge of the town,” Shelia responds, leading us down the stairway.
His smile makes more sense now.
“What was Dolph?” Aimes smirks at the woman with the purpose of her question.
“Dolph and Richard came from what was left of another group. I don’t know a lot about them. They don’t share much.” Shelia laughs at Aimes’ obvious question. She teasingly asks her, “Should Rhett be jealous?”
Aimes and I both pause with the indication of her question. Hearing our steps no longer following her down the metal stairs, she also stops as we stare at her with our confusion.
“I’m sorry. I just thought you two were together, but this morning you were in bed with Chapel. I know it’s none of my business. Forget I made the joke,” Shelia says, with her hands motioning her apology as her face shows the nervousness of possibly upset- ting us.
We can’t help it. Both of us begin laughing at the thought of us with either of the men she has listed. Everything is becoming crystal clear about her reaction this morning at our door. Sweet Shelia, with her one love Simon, thinks we are sluts. You know the world has gone to hell when you find it funny when someone questions your sexual lifestyle.
Shelia is lost in her confusion. She is not sure if she should join in with our laughter or run for reinforcements. “So, you are not with them?” She pauses, holding out the last word in a soft whisper afraid they might overhear our refusals of the facts.
“No, no, and ick, no!” Aimes is waving her arms to fend off the mental pictures the question is causing for her.
“We have been together for so long, as friends, I guess the lines blur for us. It’s like a giant group of your older brother’s best friends. You can flirt without harm. Everyone knows it’s all in good fun,” I add, trying to help her understand, to help her work through her panic. “No one is really with anyone.” Those words sting more than I want them to.
We watch the gears turn in her head as she tries to put the pieces together. “I guess that’s why Leslie was in that one’s bed this morning then,” she speaks more to herself than to us.
I feel the floor fall out from under me with her words still floating in the air with the echo of the hallway. She turns around, heading back downstairs unaware of the damage she has done. Aimes and I are lost in a world of questions neither of us are brave enough to ask her. We are well aware of what the answers could do to us.
I can feel Aimes staring at me. She is searching for what to say to convince me “that one” was not Lawless. She wants me to believe he would never do something like that. Our past has proven otherwise in the years we have been playing as a co
uple. We both know it, so we say nothing as we follow Shelia continues down the stairs to finish the morning paperwork.
“Totally going to shank that skank,” Aimes says to me, proving once again we think so much alike as the doors shut behind us, keeping the many doubts between us.
Paula is indeed found in the kitchen of the cafeteria. She is a larger woman with perfectly styled hair. Its short cut frames her plump face. The soft, blonde coloring highlights the pink under- tones of her ivory skin. She is wearing what appears to be scrubs in a soft teal color. They further accent her coloring perfectly. She is pretty in a well-manicured soccer mom kind of way with a dash of fifties housewife thrown in for good measure. She greets us with a smile when she finally notices us in her domain. All that is missing here is the freshly baked apple pie on a white painted windowsill.
Up until now, she had been cleaning the many cooking utensils from the morning meal and preparing for the next one. Many plates and their coordinating silverware lay in long rows, ready for their next use. Bulk boxes and bags are waiting on the counters in preparation for planning the rest of the meals for today. I am once again amazed at how easy it all looks. She is the Martha of the end of the world.
“I was wondering when you would find me,” Paula croons. Her smile fills her face. It lights her eyes with the warmth of it.
“Sorry,” Shelia blushes at the implications of the words saying, “I was a little distracted this morning. We had a little girl time.” She whispers the last part like a naughty secret.
I wonder what kind of saintly life this woman must have led before human flesh became a main menu staple to think our conversation on the stairs about boys is “girl time”. She is blushing a bright pink with her confession to Paula. Perhaps it’s best we never mention to her what Aimes has stashed in her bag for her nightly recreation.
Dawning (The Risen Series Book 1) Page 20