The Risen (Book 1): Dawning

by Marie F. Crow

  Like kids again, we run around beating out tempos on drums and playing childhood tunes from forced memories on the many instruments lying around. Horrible renditions of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat”, and “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” in various pitches fill the room. The only one among us with any real musical talent is Lawless and he is not among us.

  He leans against the wall with J.D., Simon, and Dolph as they watch us reliving our childhood memories. He still holds himself in his separation from us with an unspoken duty to J.D. Where as before, he would have been enjoying these moments with us, now he only watches with his blank face and cold demeanor.

  Chapel is the one that finds the old red acoustic guitar hidden behind the many stacked plastic chairs, but it is Aimes that smiles with the discovery. She smiles at me and I know where her logic is taking us. My stomach becomes a pit of dread that seems to be bottomless as I fall into it.

  “Hey Lawly, come see if it is in tune.” She calls across the room to him. Only his lips move in a short frown before he recollects his blank face.

  Lawless waits, still leaning against the wall, with all of us watching for his answer. Slowly he peels himself off the wall as if gravity holds him hostage. Each step is deliberate as he makes his way over, winding around the rows of chairs and stands between us. We make brief eye contact when he passes me, testing the water between us. He also knows where this path that Aimes has placed us on is heading. He is just as joy-filled with it as I am.

  Many nights the three of us have spent under the stars with Lawless strumming songs around warmth-giving fires. Some songs he and I would sing duets on, with our voices perfectly matched. Sometimes he would sing to us, his voice holding rich emotion with the words he sang. Occasionally, I would even be brave enough to sing a solo, earning a smile from him when our eyes would catch as he watched me. I know this is Aimes’ attempt to reunite our trio with our past memories. She also saw the pain in his eyes this morning with her words. This is her peace offering. Like a penny a child throws into a fountain, this is her hopeful wish.

  “It’s not too horrible.” Lawless is adjusting the many pegs as his fingers slide along the strings, making them sing. He strums several short tunes from those nights, letting Aimes and I know he understands what she is doing. He may be brave enough to send this private smoke signal to us but his eyes never leave the guitar while he is doing it.

  “What was that song you used to sing for us Hells? The one in that different language?” J.D. calls to us. He is not blind to the small healing we are tiptoeing.

  “Ave Maria.” Lawless answers for me. He takes some of the heat that was sent for me.

  “Right, “Ave Maria”. That’s one of your religious songs, right Chap?” J.D. is drawing all of his targets into one bucket. When he finds a barrel, I may start to panic.

  “Yeah.” Chapel gives him one solid word, understanding the game has started.

  “Well, what ya waiting on Law? Play for her so she can pray for all us sinners.” J.D. has put his game into play. If Lawless plays the song, he is siding with mine in our prayers for them. If he does not play, he may rejoin J.D.’s group of sinners. The word play is so simple that one not familiar with J.D. would miss the threat. We are very familiar with him, and we have missed nothing. Now we all wait for the next move to be made. A move no one can help Lawless make.

  Lawless stands still, pretending to be tuning the guitar in his hands as his mind races to pick a choice or find a way to appease us both. Rhett and Marxx are struggling to go blank with the realization of what line has been drawn. Each is rushing through their own ideas of how to help their friend with this new battle. Their conflict is plain upon their faces but again, it is Chapel who steps into the fire.

  “I know this one.” He offers, holding his hand out for Lawless to hand him the guitar. Chapel is providing him a way out. A chance for Lawless to let another man bear the burden of J.D.’s anger rather than take sides. The two men stare at each other for a moment before Lawless hands the instrument over. Disappointment covers Chapel’s face with the other man’s choice, and Lawless has a hard time meeting his eyes.

  “You ready?” Chapel asks me stepping around Lawless with a dismissal of him. Chapel places himself between J.D.’s gaze and myself, letting not only Lawless, but all of them know, that he is the one keeping me safe. I nod, hoping my voice holds as I stare at the back of the man in whose hands I used to place my heart waiting for the chords to play. The melody floats in the air with the beauty only a guitar can hold. The lyrics begin to pour forth from me with the same ease of memory as a sinner praying the Lord’s Prayer on Sunday and with the same amount of sincerity.

  CHAPTER 28

  Aimes and I follow Shelia around like lost children for the rest of the morning after the tour. She spends her mornings checking in on the many families that dwell inside this make-shift apartment building. It allows us the chance to meet many of the residents within these walls. Not only are we now living in a high school, but also it feels eerily familiar to high school with their politeness cloaking whispers when the doors close behind us.

  Even with all of the stares and whispering, which I blame on Aimes’ hair, it is nice to be with Shelia. It is easy to see how genuine she is with 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 to present to Simon. Their system is almost flawless as the ruling couple. She is their gentle Queen and he is their brave King, keeping their little kingdom safe from the monsters that lurk outside.

  Together, the three of us have spent a great deal of time bonding over the details of what could be our new life. Slowly, the shock factor of Aimes is reducing to short flushes of blushing and laughter for Shelia. She tells us about how most of these people are from the original group set up here at the school. A few, like us, are from fragments of other groups that they have come across as time has gone on. Together, they have all formed a new layer upon layer of a family.

  It is not necessarily an easy life, even by today’s standards. Gardens were planted and tended by different 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 more pride and care to keep it running smoothly. It also helps to keep everyone busy and not lamenting away the days in fear or panic. That I can definitely understand.

  She talks to us about the little girl we saw this morning. 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. Now in this new world, their differences became petty and their arguments irrelevant. 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 to review. Some of their concerns make Shelia a saint for even bothering to write them down with such grace, much less to actually present them as if they hold any real weight with their accomplishments.

  “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, so simple.

  “I don’t get it. Why will Ross know where to get stuff?” Aimes wears her doubt, putting 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 an
d 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. “Should Rhett be jealous?”

  Aimes and I both pause at the indication of her question. Hearing our steps no longer following her down the metal stairs, she also stops as we stare at her in our confusion.

  “I’m sorry. I just thought that you two were together, but this morning, you were in bed with Chapel. I know it’s none of my business. Really, forget I made the joke?” Her face shows her panic with the possibility of upsetting 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 that someone questions your sexual life style.

  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 it causes.

  “We have been together for so long, as friends, I guess the lines for us just blur. It is like a giant group of your older brothers best friends. You can flirt without harm. Everyone knows it is all in good fun.” I add trying to help her understand, to 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 is why Leslie was in that one’s bed this morning then.” She speaks more to herself than to us, voicing her thoughts on the matter.

  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 that neither of us is brave enough to ask her. We are well aware of what the answers can do to us.

  I can feel Aimes staring at me. She is searching for any words to reassure me that “that one” could not be Lawless. That he would never do something like that. Our past has proven otherwise in the years that we have been playing as a couple. We both know it, so we say nothing, but follow her down the stairs to finish the morning paperwork.

  “Totally in her face.” Aimes says to me, proving once again, we think so much alike as the doors shut, keeping the many doubts behind 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 undertones of her ivory skin. She is wearing what appears to be scrubs, in a soft teal color, further accenting her coloring perfectly. She is pretty in the well-manicured soccer mom style with a dash of fifties housewife for good measure. She greets us with a smile when she finally notices us in her domain. All that is missing is the freshly baked apple pie.

  Up until now, she has 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.” Her smile fills her face, lighting her eyes with the warmth of it.

  “Sorry,” Shelia blushes at the implications of the words, “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 to think our conversation on the stairs about boys is “girl time” to such an extent to cause this degree of blushing. Perhaps it is best we never mention what Aimes has stashed in her bag for her nightly recreation.

  “Well, we all need a little “girl time” here and there, don’t we?” Paula asks, smiling at Aimes and me. I smile back thinking how very disappointed she would be to discover the truth. Unless everyone in this place is such a saint and would agree. If so, my vote is to haul it out of here quickly before Aimes and I are stoned in the courtyard.

  “You two must be what has this place buzzing. Normally it’s pretty boring around here. The joys of everyone knowing everything about everyone I guess.” Paula smiles with a hint of mischief, like a gossiping housewife, still laying out the many plates and silverware.

  “As awe-inspiring as we are, I don’t think we can take all the credit. Majority, sure. I hear we are quite the naughty girls.” Aimes is letting our past conversation color this one, looking to Shelia with a shared smile.

  “I heard something along those lines.” Paula still wears that smile of a secret knowledge. I think “girl time” may have just gotten interesting.

  Before I can ask the reason behind her smile, a familiar whistle cuts through the air. It startles both Shelia and Paula, but Aimes and I just groan. We know that sound. It is our shock collar of a calling. We are being summoned. Paula gets to keep her secrets for a little longer.

  Aimes returns the whistle, as we are trained to do, with an impressive eye roll. Rhett’s tall frame enters through the doorway following the sound and he is missing his normal mischievous smile. That does not bode well for us. Wordlessly holding the door open with his body, he waits for us and like children being caught in the act of doing something wrong and we walk over to him to be told what our punishment will be.

  “J.D. wants everyone upstairs. We have been looking for you two for a good while now. Causing a bit of concern.” Rhett lowers his voice to tell us due to the two women in the room who are pretending to not listen. Paula is better at it, humming to herself with her chores. Shelia’s glances are giving her away as she pretends the paper in her hand is very interesting.

  “We weren’t aware we had a curfew.” Aimes does not hide her unhappiness with his words with her voice or her posture.

  “I know there has been a lot of crap back and forth, but it would be best to put on that pretty smile of yours when we go up there. It has not been a fun morning for any of us so far.” His voice is almost a growl with the emotion it carries. I shiver with it. I have forgotten what this man can become and I wonder what has happened while we were away. Who did Daddy punish now?

  “Chapel?” I ask, becoming aware he has been alone with their group all morning while we were able to escape.

  “What about him?” Rhett looks at me, answering my question with more than just his tone.

  Chapel has continued to stand his ground against J.D. and the rest of them. The only real question left is did he stand alone, or did one of them finally slip rank? Are the rest of them growing weary of these games as we are? Rhett’s tone tells me it may be so as everyone is slowly becoming a target for J.D. with his misplaced rage over the current situation. It does not send me into shivers of delight looking forward to whatever is waiting for us upstairs.

  Paula is right. What does a girl have to do to get some serious “girl time” around here?

  CHAPTER 29

  “I think we should stay.” Marxx is the first to speak after we have been told why we are all summoned to the room that is serving as the men’s apartment. J.D. feels he has humored us long enough with his conceding to our idea of coming here. Now he is ready to take his control back.

  Each man in the room stands a good distance apart. J.D. and Lawless are standing in the center of the room, across from Rhett and Marxx. Chapel is sitting to the side on one of the cots still unmade from the night before. The tension in the room can be felt from all angles with no one looking at another. I only have guesses as to what has happened within their happy little men’s club while we were away, and I am trying not to smile with the thoughts.

  “It is a nice set up. Just from a defen
sive state alone. There are no outside windows on the bottom floor for Risen to break into. There are only two doors from the bottom floor to enter. One has been welded shut. The other is into the courtyard, which is always being watched from the floor above. Other than that, we are surrounded by thick walls and many windows making it impossible for anything to go unnoticed.” Rhett offers solid reasons trying to point out why J.D. should agree with Marxx.

  “Simon already said our help would be welcomed on keeping it secure. We get to keep our weapons and not sit around all day taking orders from them.” Marxx knows our leader well and he is pushing the right buttons to get J.D. to join the conversation.

  J.D., who until now has been staring blindly at the floor, looks up at what was spoken. Rhett tries to hide his smile as Marxx’ words hit home.

  “I ain’t taking no orders from any Democrat and his sidekicks.” J.D. lets his tone express his thoughts more than the actual words.

  “Won’t have to. He said we could do our own thing as long as we agree to not stir up anything.” Hearing J.D.’s voice, Lawless finally speaks. I wonder if he will rollover next; maybe shake. Play dead would be just as amusing.

  Aimes and I stand silently watching them trying to talk J.D. into the shared opinion of the group. We are as close to the door as possible so we may leave as soon as we can. We know our thoughts have no real value here with this discussion. Nothing we say will hold any sway over the final judgment of what to do. J.D. did not want us here for that. He just wanted to prove to us and to them that we will still come when called. Maybe we should be the ones learning to shake. We seem to have rollover down well enough.

  “This what you really want?” J.D. asks the room. His tone is soft, almost cautious, as if he is afraid to hear our answer. The exposed weakness takes us all by surprise for a moment, pulling our attention to the man in the center of our storm.