by Alyssa Cole
“Have you told him that?” He could be pretty annoying, but I’d seen the care and concern in his eyes when it came to his family.
“No,” she said sullenly, retreating behind her thick fringe. “He thinks I’m just a kid and that he has to do everything for me, and set the right example and all that boring stuff. He won’t even trust me to do things like get firewood and make dinner. And he doesn’t tell me anything.”
“He’s a control freak, but he’s not as bad as all that,” I said, tugging at her hair. “Just like you’re not used to him, he’s not used to being around you. Maybe he thinks he’s supposed to do everything for you. And he might not tell you anything because he thinks he can keep you safe that way.”
“Maybe,” she said in a distinctly unconvinced tone. She pushed the hair out of her face though. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not annoying. Anyway, I was going to ask if you could listen to me practice a little. Before all this stuff happened, I was trying to learn a song for...someone special. For a guy.”
She looked at me expectantly. I’d spent so long trying to survive, and trying not to think about the outcome of this situation—whatever this was—that I hadn’t given much thought to the opposite sex, except for the fear of strange men that had lingered at the back of my mind the whole trek up here.
The little ones are always feisty. My assailant’s words resonated in my head. I shuddered, but then the memory of Gabriel’s cool fingertips and how they’d eased my pain just a little emerged, pushing the terrifying thoughts away. I guess it wasn’t entirely true that I hadn’t thought of guys lately.
I realized Maggie was looking at me expectantly. “Sure. Go ahead and play it.”
She started a clumsy chord progression that was hard for me to decipher at first, but then it clicked.
“One Direction?” I ventured.
“Yeah. Don’t tell me you hate them, too,” she cried out in dismay.
“Well, I wouldn’t use the word hate.” I’d first heard the boy band’s music during my weekly spin class. Their songs were kind of infectious, but I wasn’t going to admit that to anyone. My digital music files were inaccessible for the time being, so there was no physical evidence of my secret shame. “I know the song, but after this I’m teaching you some Velvet Underground.”
“What is Velvet Underground?” she asked.
I tried to hide my dismay and simply said, “In the land of 1D, Velvet Underground is king. Let’s work on this for now.”
“Okay.”
She ran through the song again, and I watched, adjusting her finger positioning and correcting her chords when necessary. I actually didn’t have to do too much; her clumsiness on the first go through had been nerves.
“That was pretty good. You lied when you said you couldn’t play.”
“Whatever,” she said, but her cheeks were rosy and a smile danced at the corners of her mouth. I was glad at least one of the new Seongs in my life seemed to like me. It was a nice change of pace.
“So who’s the dude you were learning this song for?” I asked. I wasn’t usually interested in teen intrigue, but Maggie had been stuck with Gabriel for days. She was probably starved for someone to talk girly stuff with and I wanted to indulge her, even if it wasn’t my forte. Maybe I was actually the one who was starved for company.
“A friend,” she said, her voice forlorn. She put down her guitar, carefully leaning it against the wall.
“This guy must be pretty special if you’re learning a song for him. Not that it’s any of my business.” I picked at a cuticle to show my disinterest. After I managed to detangle my hair, I’d definitely need to give my woebegone nails some love too. I wasn’t high-maintenance, but an apocalypse would wreak havoc on even the most minimalist of beauty routines.
Maggie pushed her long bangs out of her face and behind the shell of her ear, glancing around the room to make sure we were alone. “Don’t tell my brothers, but I have a boyfriend,” she said. Her eyes were wide with wonder, and there was a hint of pride in her tone.
“What’s his name?” I asked, matching my low tones to hers.
“Devon,” she sighed. “He lives in Florida.”
“How—”
She cut me off before I could finish. “I met him online, on a guitar forum. He helped me understand basic music stuff—count, the different kind of notes, how to read music—things like that. I asked if he could help me figure out how to play a song, and he wrote the tab out for me by hand and mailed it to me. Like, snail mail!”
She gave a goofy laugh of surprise as she described the letter, the most romantic thing that had ever happened in her young life. I had to agree that it was pretty sweet. I gave her a sage nod of approval, and she continued excitedly.
“We started to video chat every night. We would practice guitar and just talk about life and what we wanted to do after high school...but now I don’t even know if he’s okay. He could be dead. Everyone could be, except for a handful of us.” Maggie’s eyes still shone, but not with excitement anymore. Her mouth twisted in an unsuccessful attempt to hide how her bottom lip trembled. “The not knowing is, like...I don’t know. Like an annoying mosquito buzzing in my ear, driving me crazy, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
I knew exactly what she meant, though I didn’t feel like talking about it. Thoughts of my parents always hovered just on the edge of my consciousness, waiting for the smallest thing to remind me of them and prick my aching heart.
“What you’re describing is totally normal, but we just have to be happy for the little things and try to stay positive,” I said, hoping I sounded peppy and convincing, like the woman in the workout videos I’d watched on YouTube. “You have your brothers, you have food, you have warmth. Others were way less prepared for what happened. We can only hope that the people we care about are safe and that somehow they know we’re safe too.”
“You’re right,” she said. She twirled the ends of her long hair around her index finger. “I just miss him so much. It’s like there’s a constant pressure on my chest, and the more I think of how far away he is, the harder it pushes down on me. Have you ever felt that way?”
Another prick of the heart. I nodded.
“You know what? Let’s try something,” I said. “I saw this on one of those stupid daytime talk shows, and it’s probably total BS, but it can’t hurt to try. I want you to close your eyes and think ‘I’m okay, and you’re okay too.’ Visualize Devon and your parents while you repeat that, and imagine them doing something like what we’re doing now, or whatever would make them happy. Supposedly, if you put positive thoughts out into the universe, they can help shape the future. Or something. I don’t know, just close your eyes.”
“This is ridiculous, Arden,” she huffed. Then her lids fluttered shut and she asked softly, “Do you really believe it’ll work?”
“Let’s hope so,” I said and closed my eyes too. I imagined my parents sitting in their dining room at home, eating a salad fresh from the garden topped with my dad’s prize-winning rutabaga. There was a knock at the front door—their neighbor, Mr. Klein, popping in to see if they needed anything. Lots of people checked in on them, so they never wanted for anything. My dad would offer Mr. Klein some of the good aged rum, and my mom would gently chide them both and then remind Dad to pour her a taste too. “We’re doing fine. We just hope Arden is safe,” she would say to Mr. Klein in that strong, smoky voice of hers, how she sounded when she was healthy and rested.
I am okay, Mom. I’m okay, and you guys are too.
“You know, I actually feel a bit better now...Arden?”
I opened my eyes to find Maggie peering at me with wide eyes. I wiped away the hot tears that had spilled down my cheeks without my knowledge. “Sorry, I got a little too into that exercise.” I shrugged, trying to lighten the mood. “Awkwaaard.”
Maggie handed me a tissue and was kind enough to look away as I blew my nose. “I want things to go back to normal,” she said with a sigh.
>
“We’ll try to be as normal as we can, I guess.” Normal didn’t make the pain and fear for those you cared about go away. Normal didn’t take away your regrets. I’d spare her those harsh truths though; I suspected Maggie knew I was spouting nonsense, but a kid needed something to believe in. I did too.
She nodded, and then gave me a mischievous smile. “So is it ‘normal’ for a grown man and woman to fight like honey badgers but look at each other like they’re going to start sucking face any second?”
“Maggie!” I swatted at her.
“What?” she asked, throwing up an elbow in defense. “I’m just a girl trying to figure things out with the help of my elders. I don’t think trying to scratch each other’s eyes out is a healthy way of showing affection.”
“You have much to learn, kid,” I muttered.
John walked in then, settling on the sofa with a blanket and a battered copy of Watership Down. He lifted his head and flared his nostrils in an exaggerated sniff. “Why does it smell like Tiger Balm in here?” he asked.
I flushed immediately under his knowing gaze. “Gabriel thought it would help with my back.”
His eyes narrowed appraisingly, but he opened the book and flipped to the first page with feigned disinterest in what I’d said. Maggie practiced strumming chords. I could see a smirk on the section of face visible beneath her swinging bangs.
John licked his index finger and flipped a page before asking, “So, were you guys arguing over who rubbed down whom first?”
“No, it was...something else,” I said guiltily. I didn’t want to hide anything from them, especially from John. Getting in the middle of Seong family problems didn’t seem like a good idea. If Gabriel was dead set on going out searching, he could be the one to explain it to them.
“You guys have only talked to each other for, oh, I’d say an hour total, when you take things like passing out, bathing and daydreaming about our impending doom into consideration, but you’ve managed to argue for fifty-nine of those sixty minutes. Interesting, huh?”
“You forgot that they worked a massage in there, too,” Maggie said before striking a perfect power chord.
“It was a medical massage, performed by a licensed doctor,” I said. “Nice chord, by the way. That was really clean.”
“Nice attempt to change the subject. Not very clean, though,” John said, placing his book in his lap and leaning forward to squint at me. “Oh. Of course! I can’t believe I didn’t think of this! Gabriel is all controlling and anal and annoying. Of course he’d fall for an angry, independent, free-spirited woman like you.” He shook his head in disgust and picked up the book again. “You guys are so cliché.”
“No one is falling for anyone,” I said. “You guys are just going through reality TV withdrawal.” Despite my protestations, a little shiver of pleasure shook me as I remembered Gabriel’s strong hands and how expertly they’d discovered and eased the painful knots in my back. I wondered if he’d be as intuitive when it came to touching me in other places too.
“Mom would’ve seen it coming from a mile away,” Maggie said, quietly strumming a D minor chord. “She was always trying to play matchmaker.”
“Wasn’t she?” John chimed in from behind the pages of his book. “The first thing she said when I came out was ‘Oh, Mrs. Kim’s nephew is gay too! He’s a nice boy. I’ll call her and arrange a coffee date, Jang-Wan.’”
We all laughed. I looked at the picture above the mantle again, at the vibrancy and love in his parents’ eyes. Of course Gabriel wanted to go find them.
“My mom stopped setting me up after I told the pastor’s son I was into Satan worship and blood sacrifice,” I said.
Maggie snorted out a laugh, and John tilted his head in my direction, his bandage making him look like a deranged tennis player.
“So you really were always this charming,” he said.
“I came straight out of the womb kicking ass and taking names,” I said, throwing a few fake jabs toward Maggie.
“Gross,” she exclaimed as she jumped off the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna go practice in my room before you start talking about swinging the placenta around your head by the umbilical cord.”
“Get out,” John ordered. “Get out before Arden corrupts you any further.”
“A girl after my own heart,” I said after she left. “I really do like her. Kind of makes me wish I had some siblings.”
“You were more than enough for your parents to handle, I’m sure,” John said. His eyes trailed Maggie as she walked up the stairs. “And you’ve got me, so you don’t need any siblings. Besides, it would just mean more people for you to worry about now.”
I sighed and walked over to the bookcase to find something to read. Cormac McCarthy’s The Road caught my eye, but I remembered seeing the trailer for the movie adaptation and immediately vetoed it. Next to it was an old book with a peeling spine that seemed as if it might hold my attention. I grabbed it and settled back onto the sofa.
“God, Fiver!” John cried out a long while later. “Ugh, I always forget how emotional this book makes me. What’re you reading?”
I’d been so absorbed in my book that I hadn’t noticed the time fly by. Even though we were in a room with boarded-up windows, I could sense it was starting to get dark out. Perhaps my time spent outdoors had rebooted my circadian rhythm.
“Love in the Western World,” I answered. “It’s old, but pretty interesting stuff.”
“Fascinating choice,” he said, raising a brow at me. “That’s Gabriel’s book from college. Maybe you could ask him to share some insight about it with you?”
I threw John a look, but realized he hadn’t been teasing. I wondered where Gabriel had been for the past few hours. Would he have left without saying anything? Was he out there in the dark woods? “Valentine’s Day was last week, you know. I’m just trying to get into the holiday spirit.”
“Fuck, was it?” John asked. “Well, I guess the only thing different about this year is that I actually have a good excuse for not having a Valentine. ‘Oh, all the good men got Raptured away/abducted by aliens/are huddled in bunkers wondering whether the world is ending. You know how it is.’”
“Well, this book hasn’t been too uplifting. Basically, love is a myth and has been perverted by Western culture as a substitute for true self-awareness, which can only be reached in death.”
John splayed open his book and fanned himself with the pages. “Sounds like some sexy stuff, Arden,” he said. “Please stop, I don’t think my loins will be able to stand much more.”
I stood and stretched languorously before remembering that I should have been howling in pain from the motion. Gabriel really did have magic fingers. “Okay, I’ll spare you a case of burst loins,” I said, walking toward the door. “That would be an awkward medical problem, since your brother is the only doctor we have now.”
He rolled his eyes. “My loins will remain intact for the foreseeable future, I imagine,” he said, a frown marring his face. I wondered if his head was hurting him, or his heart. But then the moment passed and he was dry, witty John again. “You know, you should probably skip the love-and-death stuff when it comes to Gabe. Just stick to your tried-and-true method of beating men into submission.”
I frowned at him, but not because of his critique of my dating style. “I don’t think beating your brother into submission would be a good idea,” I said. I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not, but given my reaction to Gabriel, I didn’t find it humorous.
“Why not? I always said when the apocalypse came I’d want to be coming, too,” he said. He gave me an apologetic smirk for his bad joke before continuing. “I’m not saying you have to marry him, but if you have certain urges you shouldn’t deny them on my account. There really isn’t a better time to act on inappropriate sexual impulses, if you ask me.”
“Not that there are any impulses to act on,” I hedged, “but are you sure you wouldn’t mind?”
“I’m actually kind o
f jealous,” he admitted. “It would be nice to have someone to lean on right now.”
What did he mean? Was he feeling neglected? Had I let him down, after all he’d done for me by bringing me with him? “I’m here for you to lean on.”
“Let me rephrase that. It would be nice to have someone to have crazy, sweaty, end-of-days sex with right now,” he said, and then pretended to gag. “Ew, I can’t believe I’m talking about this in the context of my brother. Please go before you cause my psyche irreparable damage.”
I went up to the room I shared with John. As I lay in the single bed, I thought of what John had said about having someone to lean on.
That’s probably the reason I find Gabriel attractive. He’s the only available man around in a stressful situation, and I’m just trying to find some comfort. I’d be better off sticking with my hand.
I’d made it a rule never to be with a man because I needed him. I’d been raised to stand on my own two feet. I didn’t need a guy to take care of me, especially one who displayed such an obvious need to be in control all the time.
Still, as I drifted to sleep, I thought of how pleasant Gabriel had been when he’d examined me, and how he’d been playful and gentle while he’d massaged the balm into my weary body.
Maybe it wasn’t just desperation after all.
Chapter Seven
I woke with a start in the middle of the night. My heart thudded in my chest and my mouth was wide open, curved around the silent scream that had driven me from my nightmare.
In the dream, Blue Hat held me down like he had in real life, but this time blood and gore dripped from his wound, hot splashes on my face and in my mouth as I screamed and screamed. I lay paralyzed with fear immediately after I woke up and for a horrible, confusing moment I was positive he was in the room with me, that the safe haven of the cabin had been breached.