The Risen (Book 1): Dawning

by Marie F. Crow

  My arms have been clinging to him, pulling him to me with a refusal for space between us. My hand caresses the back of him, trailing a path to his shoulders and to his neck, before repeating again. My other hand guides the back of his head along the path he is taking with his mouth, providing the clues to the spots of where I want to feel him the most. My voice is a soft combination of moaning and pleading with his hot, wet torture of me.

  I am lost in the heights of the sensations he is driving me to when I feel his voice against my neck. “No more running, Helena.” His hot breath whispers along my flesh. “You are either all in, or I am all out.”

  My heart races, not from his actions, but from his ultimatum. All this time I have blamed him for pulling away, but it was me who was pushing him away. I was so lost in my failures before, and now worse with their deaths still haunting me, that I have become disgusted with myself. I have encased myself in a prison of bitterness and it has turned my actions, and words, into acid pouring over him and those around me with my self-hatred.

  Now my Lawless, my Lighthouse, stands before me waiting for me one more time. He is offering me everything, his heart, his body, and his soul. All I have to do is accept him, completely, and I do. I take what is mine. I take it fully.

  CHAPTER 48

  “The tree is bare still.” Aimes is pouting, staring at the evergreen with its defiant height mocking the ceiling of the third floor. “It is all naked and depressing.”

  We are lounging in a common area of our making after dinner. Spare furniture from unused teacher’s lounges has been brought up to accommodate the many more people that now mingle with winter’s chill keeping everyone inside. Somehow, our little group remains aloof even as we interact with those around us. The leather vests, still a staple of their wardrobe, turned this corner into ours even with our absence. It has the same effect on those that live here now as it did for those that lived in our town then. If given the chance, I am sure J.D. would paint their grinning skull on the wall above us to finalize their space.

  The vest is not the only thing they have reclaimed from our past. The men have fallen back into their ranking system sitting around the table. J.D. sits at the head, silently watching our banter while the rest of them ascend down on either of his sides with their held position. Routines are slowly forming again with the drama simmering around us. If we loot a jukebox, we may just be at Grit again.

  “Sweetheart, nothing naked is depressing.” Rhett begins to tug on his shirt with a smile. “Here, let me show you.”

  “What is it with you and your hate for keeping your clothes on?” Aimes’ voice may hold disapproval, but her face does not.

  I can feel Lawless’ arms tighten around me unconsciously with his doubts still open to me after yesterday. I slide deeper into his embrace, trying to settle him. It is a little thing, but it is enough. My mind still revolts with my efforts to embrace him again. I find myself biting my tongue to keep my words at bay. Baby steps, such tiny, painful baby steps I am taking.

  “She is right. If we are going to do this, we need to finish it.” Chapel twirls his Cross ring with his nervousness. The many gems set around the double Cross’ framework catch the overhead lights and glow with the reflections. The center gem sparkles with many different shades as he twists it.

  “Seriously, how does this “we” shit keep coming up?” Rhett’s flirtatious nature melts to annoyance.

  “Getting weak in your old age, Rhett? You ready to retire that bike?” Lawless taunts him. His words hold mirth, but just like J.D., they also hold so much more. How much has our little Prince learned?

  “Anything you can do Brother….” Rhett lets it hang between them with his dangerous smile coloring the words.

  “That means you can take your shirt off too.” I relax in Lawless’ arms, bringing him back to me. He kisses the top of my head, but I can feel his tension still making his body ridged. He will not take his eyes off Rhett with the tension now between them from their hidden innuendos.

  Rhett breaks his stare first. He cuts his eyes sideways, inhaling his anger with the act. Lawless has won this round, and it shocks me that Rhett caves so easily. I look to J.D. with my questions on my face, but he only gives me those empty, cold eyes, warning me to stay silent. It is more than just Lawless that I have missed with my departure, it seems.

  “What does it mean to “retire your bike”?” Aimes apparently missed the whole stare-fest to be restirring the pot so nonchalantly.

  “When you can’t ride any longer.” J.D. is the one to answer her, refusing to let the stalemate start again.

  “What happens when you can’t ride any longer?” I am afraid the answer to my question may be exactly what I think it is.

  “You’re out.” J.D.’s voice holds his normal cord of finality. He is looking to the man across the table from him and fighting to stay disconnected.

  Marxx sits at the base of the table avoiding our stares. Paula has warned, with the extent of his injury, he may never fully regain the grip in his hand. The very thing could keep Marxx from ever riding again and regaining his place next to J.D. I wonder, with reality now looming before him, if he thinks it was still worth it.

  “If we are going to do it, then we should do it now. There seems to be more of them as of late than before. The darkness will help cover us.” Marxx ignores my stare, but I know he feels it.

  “It will help cover them as well.” I know that Siren’s voice. I pull from Lawless’ embrace, replacing my missing bricks with Leslie behind us. He tightens his arms around me, feeling me retreat from him. It does not comfort me, it feels like I am smothering. He lets me go, dropping his arms to his sides and it is my turn to avoid their stares.

  “…and?” Lawless asks her. His tone is dangerously flat with her.

  “And it is not safe.” She tells him, exasperated with his response.

  “Good thing no one invited you.” Lawless signals for me to move so he can stand. The rest of the men at the table stand with his head nod for them. Even J.D. obeys his silent command with a smirk of trouble on his lips.

  They file out of our area in a single-file line, still in the formation of rank, and silent with their solidarity. Their body language parts the space before them as they near the other residents. Men nod hellos as they pass, trying to gain their attention with the yearning for acceptance and acknowledgments. The club is back in its power, even in this small community, with the respect and fear they inspire.

  Aimes leans into Leslie, as she strolls past her to join our group, and whispers in a mock of a compassionate tone. “Sorry Skankerbell, you must be all out of whore dust.”

  I wonder how long I will continue to give this woman power over me with her past, and if I can become like her to give Lawless what he needs for his future. What happens if I can’t?

  “It is only a matter of time.” Leslie says to me, now that it is just she and I left, echoing my thoughts.

  “…until you catch on that you are not wanted anymore?” I ask her with a bittersweet smile. “But don’t worry, I’ll clap to keep you alive. After all, I do believe you are a skank.”

  I give her wide eyes of innocence before turning my back to her. Aimes and I clap, loudly, as we walk through the heavy doors as we shout together. “Clap! Clap if you believe. Clap!”

  The men are already preparing to head out into the bitter cold when we catch up to them. They are pulling on the many layers of winter barriers to help reduce the wind chill from the bikes. The sun has not yet fully set, giving the day some warmth, but when it does, the temperature will drop with it. The risk of this run is not just the Risen, but Mother Nature herself.

  I do not speak with Lawless as I help him slip into his gear. His eyes survey my face in our silence, waiting for me. He is afraid I will run again. I am afraid I will not.

  “Be careful.” I tell him when I finally find my voice. “You won’t have your zombie bait to find them for you this time.”

  “I plan on using C
hapel.” His lips curve with his joke and I wonder how much of a joke it is after our conversation. “I’m kidding. It is a simple in and out. There is one of those giant super stores back up the road a bit. I doubt the decorating items have been ransacked. Tinsel isn’t high on the survival guides.”

  “Nothing is ever simple.” I press my head to his chest before I zip the jacket. The small device makes our parting feel final once I pull it closed.

  “Hey,” he pulls my face to his so that I may not only see him, but also see his words, “I’ll be fine. We will be back before you even notice us gone. Don’t worry so much. Keep the bed warm for me?” He asks with teasing hopes, bending his body to look into my eyes.

  Pressing my body against his, I kiss his smirking lips, pulling him deeper into his passion. My tongue explores his mouth, savoring the taste of it, before I pull away. His face shows his amusement, and enjoyment, of my boldness. Let him hope.

  One last parting touch and he slips from me, leading them into the courtyard. He never looks back to say goodbye. I did not really expect him to. He has switched to a different man now from the one he just was. He is no longer my Lawless. He is theirs.

  Chapel pats my back as he walks past me. He is still sheltering me, lending me his strength as my heart races, watching them leave me behind with my many imaginary mental scenarios of the run. I feel Aimes’ hand in mine as the same fears root her to this spot beside me.

  The roar of their bikes fills the night with their departure. My warhorse, with Marxx behind her wheel, answers their battle cry with her heavy engine, leading them into their charge. I watch the four grinning skulls fade from my view, feeling my stomach drop when the courtyard gate swings shut behind them.

  Sometimes falling in love feels a lot like fear. The heart races with the thought of it. Hands shake with the worry from it. Sometimes, it is even just as life changing when it is upon you.

  “I’m going back up. You coming?” Her voice is timid and her eyes are still glued to the last spot they held for us.

  “In a minute.” I know that if we both go up together it will be our undoing. Separate, we can force our emotions down, not having to watch them on the face of the other.

  “Yeah. Okay.” She whispers, heading to the stairway. I watch her reflection glance back at the gate with every other step she is taking until she is behind her own closed door.

  “So just like that?” Dolph is leaning against the hall with his normal half turn. I meet his eyes in the thick glass mirroring us.

  “Just like what?” I watch him run through many emotions on his face as he carefully chooses his next words before looking back to me.

  “After all he has done. Just like that?” His southern drawl is tighter than normal. His body more twisted from me, keeping him only half invested in the conversation, but those eyes, his eyes watch me so deeply.

  “It isn’t that simple.” I tell his reflection, too scared to face him with his accusations of my weakness and Lawless’ actions.

  He nods, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. “Yeah.” He tells me. “I guess nothing ever is.”

  He returns to me the very words I had just told the man whose loyalty Dolph is questioning. We stare at one another’s reflection, with his words between us, before he pulls himself from the wall. I watch him walk away from me the way Aimes watched the gate. He glances back at me one final time before the heavy metal doors close behind him, leaving me alone with his words still echoing in my mind.

  I stand alone in the dark hallway, staring out the window at the one black motorcycle they have left behind. Its handlebars are turned, pointing the front of the bike severely, giving it an almost broken look as it stands alone in the courtyard where so many were once placed beside it. Its headlight is ominously watching me from its side of the glass, trying to whisper to me as snow begins to cover it with a soft white blanket. It slowly begins to fade, with its black frame obscured by the swirling snow, like an apparition dissolving from my view. For reasons unknown, it fills me with dread, sending cold shivers into my soul.

  “Please be careful.” I whisper to no one, and yet, to everyone at the same time. All I can do now is wait and pray. I can pray.

  CHAPTER 49

  Aimes and I sit in our corner waiting patiently for their return. By patiently, I mean feet tapping, window glancing, deep sighing, heart racing, and pausing with every sound we hear hoping it is them. Maybe we are not so patient after all.

  Silence hangs between us. My mouth is dry from my fears and anxiety. I doubt I could form any words right now, much less hold any meaningful conversation. Simon and Richard sit with us as we float in our river of worry. Its current is taking us faster and deeper into horrors that we have imagined awaiting them.

  “I’m sure they are fine.” Richard tells us. It is his voice, but it is Ross’ smile. Neither brings me any comfort, and looking to Aimes, she is not rejoicing either.

  “Knowing them, they have most likely found a deserted bar along the way and have stopped in to see what is left.” Richard continues with his oh so helpful parade.

  “Rhett is probably playing spin the bottle with the Risen.” Simon joins in Richard’s debate to try to lighten the mood.

  “When necrophilia goes both ways?” Aimes is slowly lured out of her silence by their discussion.

  “Does it really count as cold packing if they are still moving?” Simon shocks me with his knowledge of such topics.

  The shock brings laughter from Aimes and me. Simon, always appearing so squeaky clean, holds a hidden dark twist to him. Richard also chuckles with male embarrassment over enjoying the joke.

  “Dead is dead, right?” Aimes is still giggling with a naughty glee.

  Paula’s words slither into my mind, stealing the laughter from me. “They never really die.” She told us. “They never really die.”

  “Shhh,” Aimes stands hearing a sound I yet do not. “I think they are back.”

  The whole floor pauses in activity, as one by one they turn to face the courtyard below us. The roaring becomes louder, and smiles spread through out, as headlights gleam in the darkness. Conversations grow louder as a welcome home to our heroes. I watch as the courtyard gate swings open admitting their return, but something is wrong. Something is terribly wrong.

  Aimes and I run down the flights of stairs with our hearts pumping fear through our bodies with what we both saw from our window. The number was wrong. A single white headlight is missing. Someone did not return with the others. Someone was left behind.

  Of all the imagined horrors I have brought forth in my mind, none were as horrible as this. Truth is again daring me to come explore her devious depths. She wants me to come see whom she has stolen from me now. How much of my heart is she about to shred with her evilness? Truth so hates to be ignored, and we have done just that. Safe behind these thick walls, we have forgotten how dangerous she can be. So caught up in our pettiness, we lost sight of the real danger lurking all around us. Now she is here to remind us with the loss of the one that is not here to be with us.

  Aimes stops me, holding me to her, to keep me from going outside. My truck is blocking them, and I cannot see who is here or not here. Panic builds with my frustration of not knowing the answer. The world seems to have stopped as we wait for Truth to reveal herself to us, and then she does. I will never ignore her again.

  Their shapes form from the darkness that encloses the space before us. I recognize each one as they come into the hallway. The one that I do not recognize steals my breath and the strength of my body to support me.

  I fall wordlessly to the ground, dragging Aimes with me in my defeat. She wraps herself around me rocking us both, unable to yet breathe, my tears cascade freely from me. My lungs release their pressure from the shock and my first inhale drags a moan from me like a banshee on a high hill. I scream for him as they stand around me, their own grief tearing them apart with mine. My Lawless is gone. The one black bike that is missing, it is his.

>   “How?” Is all that I can form once my grief is spent. It is such a small fragile word that can only bring me more pain.

  My body is numb, and yet I still rock, fallen on the floor. My eyes see nothing. My hands feel nothing as they shake, sending their refusal to believe through my arms. My arms that will never hold him to me again.

  J.D. leans against the blackened window. He stares at the ceiling with sightless eyes remembering what has happened. “We were overrun.” He begins, and has to stop just as abruptly, with the grief that the memory brings. He breathes in shallow breaths and holds them, trying to get control of himself.

  “The damn things. They snuck up on us. They were waiting in the lot. Had the bikes all surrounded. No way to get past them. They watched us ride in on them so they just waited for us to have to ride out.”

  I know where my small fragile word is taking me, and yet I still have to hear it. I have to know. Truth so hates to be ignored.

  “He ran right out there. Never said a word. Just did it. He just ran right out.” J.D.’s voice breaks as he breaks. His body slides down the wall, unable to support the weight of his grief with what his mind is showing him, the death of the only man he thought of as a son.

  “You just left him?” Aimes asks in her grief. Her breathing is short and shallow, hyperventilating from her pain.

  She does not understand yet. She does not see what is on their faces. Their faces so wet with their grief. The shoulders that are silently shaking on the kneeling bodies all around us in the dark. I do. Truth so hates to be ignored.

  “There was nothing to leave. They left us nothing to leave.” J.D. shatters with his words.

  Truth is finally with us. Her gown is the color of the blackest of mourning. It is a shade so dark with evil that she glistens in it. She dances around us with her presence, spreading her pain like a haunting melody. This melody that she sings will scar us with its words forever.