by W. A. R.
“Oh, honey…” Shelly began, her eyes beginning to water. She rushed over to Amber and hugged her. “What happened to you?” she asked, pulling back from her. Amber flushed and limped to the couch, her left leg tensing up.
“That bad, huh?” she asked, looking between Brian and Shelly. Miles carried the heavy bag to the other side of a recliner, settling it on the floor. Amber watched every move he made from the corner of her eye. Truth was, she couldn’t take her eyes from him, from the long strides that he made. “Long story. I feel like I’ve missed out on something here though.”
“Yeah, you look pretty rough. And we have a long night ahead of us. There is a lot to discuss.” Brian said softly, pouring a bit of water on a cloth and handing it to Amber, helping her wrap it securely around her elbow. He then began checking the bloodied hair on her head. She winced and he stepped back, looking at Shelly, then at Amber and Miles. Amber did the same, unintentionally proud of how well they were handling such a situation; but then again, they were a team, and always had been. “Let’s all have a seat and figure out what we can tonight, and tomorrow, well…we can figure out tomorrow, tomorrow.” Everyone nodded in agreement and Amber glanced yet again at Miles, who now sat in a chair across the room from her and caught his gaze. She felt heat crawl up her cheeks, and pain throbbed across her skull and she winced, breaking whatever connection there was. She sighed, opening her mouth to speak as the back bedroom door clicked shut. Amber immediately stood, looking from Shelly to Brian and finally to Miles, who was suddenly tense, watching a man come from the back room. She turned back to Brian curious and tired.
“How many people did you find in Takilma? Seriously?” Her thoughts were interrupted when the man appeared in the kitchen, buttoning up a long-sleeved shirt. He looked up and she caught the excitement and surprise in his green eyes.
“Amber?” George asked, pausing mid-step. Amber felt a myriad of emotions wash over her; everything ranging from guilt, confusion, anxiousness, surprise, and joy.
“George?” she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. Tears sprang to her eyes as he approached her, embracing her. “How did you…? I thought…” and she began crying. Uncontrollable sobs. George simply held her and let her cry, Brian rubbed the tears from his eyes, Shelly rubbing his back in comfort, and Miles…Miles turned away from it all, the emotions rolling through him weighing heavy on his heart.
Chapter Six
Miles woke the following morning, squinting as the sunlight filtered through the blinds and landed on his face. He had slept on a recliner, George on the second recliner, Shelly and Brian in the bed in the back, and Amber on the couch. Opening his eyes and stretching his tired limbs, he decided to get up and conduct a perimeter check. His thoughts were still muddled from the day before, and he had to get everything in check. He stood slowly, as not to make any sudden noises and wake anyone. Very carefully, he reached for his guns and knife from the coffee table and noticed that Amber was gone. He stood, positioning his guns in their appropriate holsters and gripping his knife, turned to glance at the front door. It was right beside his chair, and he wondered how he could have slept through her leaving. The thought bothered him immensely. Grabbing his jacket that rested on the back of his recliner and placing his hand on the door knob, he sighed, thinking of the night before.
They had all sat down and discussed everything that had happened with one another. He expected someone, anyone to ask about him; to expect some sort of answer. He would have given them an abridged version of the truth, at least; yet no one had. Brian had given him an appreciative look, but had never said anything about it. Miles had smiled back, understanding that when he had said previously about not caring about how he knew them, he had meant it. The only thing that had bothered him, however, was the angry intensity that Amber seemed to have towards him. Every time he had looked her way, she was shooting daggers at him. So, he had sat silent in her presence, not wanting to upset her anymore. He wasn’t sure what he had done, but he certainly didn’t want to repeat it. Her demeanor had changed, however, whenever Brian explained their part of the experience. She had listened intently, and had stolen one last look at him, and in it were a million questions that she simply wouldn’t ask.
He eased the door open, stepped outside, and closed it behind him. Walking down the steps and to the edge of the driveway, he began patrolling along the fence line that outlined the property, seeing a dead Biter here and there. He decided that someone had already beaten him up and out, conducting a perimeter check on their own. He rounded the corner of the house and saw Amber leaning over an old wood burning stove in an open shed. He smiled at the sight of her before he could stop himself, and then mentally kicked himself for it. What was he thinking? He should just leave before causing any more trouble. It was that moment that Zeus chased a squirrel up a tree before Miles caught his attention. The dog charged at Miles before coming to an abrupt halt about four feet away from him. He and Miles stared long and hard at one another before Miles slowly knelt down, reaching his hand out to him. Zeus leaned his snout forward, sniffing his hand, reluctantly nudging his hand with his head. “You’re a good dog, huh boy?” he asked him, and Zeus began wagging his tail, easing up to him and resting his head on Miles’s knee. Miles scratched behind his ear, smiling at the animal.
“Well, aren’t you two just adorable.” He heard Amber tease. She was close, about two feet away. He quickly stood and cleared his throat, looking at her. She offered him a smile and he returned it. She had such a kind, beautiful smile.
“Uh…thanks.” He shrugged, shifting his feet anxiously. She watched him in silence for a moment, as if studying him, before speaking.
“Care for some coffee?” she asked abruptly, turning to face the open shed. He saw her hair matted with dried blood in the back. It was a pretty significant amount, even though she had it pulled back into a ponytail. Her cheek was bruised, but she had cleaned most of the blood from her face. She was obviously hurt, so why was she up so early, and much less, attempting to make small talk with him? He shook his head, turning his attention back to their conversation.
“Coffee?” he asked, surprised. He shoved his hands into his pockets and fell into step beside her as they began walking towards the building. She laughed lightly at his disbelief, although her laughter seemed forced.
“It isn’t the best by any means, but it works.” She told him as she folded her arms across her chest. He looked down at her and felt himself grinning.
“I’ll take your word for it, but don’t you think the smoke will attract attention?” he asked her. She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. Way to go, he thought to himself, make her angrier with you.
“Not much. The smoke is white, see?” she said, pointing to the smoke filtering out of the stovepipe. “Besides, this area wasn’t densely populated by any means. If there were many around here, they would have come last night while you and Brian were at it like a bunch of animals.” She teased him once again. He studied her.
“You seem to be in better spirits this morning.” He observed, and he watched her sigh, lowering her gaze to the ground in front of them. He really hoped he hadn’t just stuck his foot in his mouth.
“Not really, but I’m making the best of it. I am going to see if I could persuade Brian into just taking the day here to gather everything, take somewhat of a bath, and wash the blood from our clothes.” She frowned up at him. “I have two kids, and I can’t let them see us this way.” He felt his heart weigh down heavily at the thought of his own son. He quickly shoved the thought into the darkest recess of his mind. He knew she had children; he had been there then as well, when she was at her loneliest. Yet, he couldn’t tell her that either. “But, I am not hurting nearly as bad as I was last night. All I need is some doctoring.” She then smiled and lightly touched the cut on his eyebrow. It lasted only a second, and it was just a simple action, but it was so intimate to him that he felt the blush creep up his neck. “Looks like you could use some too.” She
said softly as they reached the stove. He watched as she grabbed two old mugs and placed a filter with some stale coffee grounds in it over the top of the mug. She slowly, easily grabbed a pot of boiling water and poured it over the top of the grounds a little at a time. Miles watched the steamy brown liquid fill the mugs until she was done. Handing one to him, she grabbed the other and gingerly brought it to her lips. They each took a sip, Amber grimacing at the taste of it. “As I said, it’ll work.” She muttered before taking another sip.
He stared hard at her, deciding what to say. “So, you have kids?” he asked and she gave him a pointed look that sent shivers up his spine. Sitting down on a small cushioned chair that rested beside the stove, she motioned for him to sit on the chair beside her. He looked at him, then at her before moving to sit. He stared hard at the mug in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees.
“Yeah…two….”she replied, trailing off and staring into the distance. She looked that way for just a few minutes before turning back to him, clearing her throat and changing the subject. She seemed more or less happy, content. Her voice was soft and gentle as she spoke. “Listen, umm…I owe you an apology, Miles; for my behavior last night.” She told him softly, and he jerked his gaze to her. She smiled at him knowingly, her ice blue eyes holding him captive. His heart began pounding so hard against his ribs that it almost hurt.
“I…uh…well…it…excuse me?” he stuttered, his eyes never leaving hers. He felt his mouth go dry staring at her in surprise. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t tear himself away from her gaze. She leaned back against the chair in amusement and he felt the nervous flush creep up his neck again. He was a sane, level-headed man…how did she do these things to him?
“Did you really think that I wouldn’t know who you were?” she asked him, and he just swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. He had gotten used to not being noticed by her; had become comfortable with her ignorance. This...recognition…was sending his emotions on a horrible rollercoaster. Then again, he wondered just how much she actually did know about him and their shared history.
He cleared his throat and sighed in resignation. “You remember me.” He said softly as she took another sip of her stale coffee. She nodded and studied him, the smile fading from her face. He turned his gaze back to his mug that he kept spinning in his hands.
“You think it is a bad thing.” She stated, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and humility. She looked sad. He took a sip of his coffee, refusing to respond to the statement. He wanted to run as fast as he could away from there. She shook her head, turning her head slightly and staring off into the open pasture. He watched the wind blow stray strands of hair across her face, his gaze skimming the sensual curve of her neck as it reached her shoulder. She slowly turned back to her mug of coffee.
“I was horrible to you as a kid.” He snapped bitterly. She didn’t seem effected by his sudden animosity; instead a small smile turned up the corners of her lips. She seemed to have softened towards him, but then again that was who she was…always comforting those around her that needed it.
“You weren’t always.” She told him gently, her words a caress over his battered soul and he turned away from her gentle gaze. “As a matter of fact, later in life you were quite the opposite.” She said and he felt his blood pressure skyrocket. What had she meant by that, he wandered? “You were always very kind.” She said softly and he felt agitation beginning to grate on his nerves. He heard her move and the chair scoot closer to his side. Quickly he stood, unsure of if he could handle talking to her. He felt overwhelmed and unsure. She had always made him feel that way. He took a step towards the road and felt her hand grab his wrist, stopping him. Electricity zipped through him at the touch and he felt everything inside of him ignite. He turned to her as she stood from her chair, setting her coffee down. She looked up at him. “I am sorry. And whenever you are ready to listen to my apology, let me know.” She said softly. She then let him go, and he mentally kicked himself for acting so shrewdly. He groaned and began walking away from her presence, frustrated and contemplative.
She had been seven, and he eight. He first saw her on the shared playground for second and third graders. She was talking to a little brunette girl whenever someone ran by him and pushed him, causing his animal crackers to scatter across the dirt. Tears began to fill his eyes. They were the only animal crackers he had, and he had bought them himself that very morning. His parents couldn’t afford anything extra, even something as small as a box of animal crackers. They were never really there for him either, when he let himself think of it; he was always so alone, practically raising himself. So all week, he would search the playground, his yard, couch cushions, etc. for enough money to buy a box. A minute went by, and before he realized what was going on, the little blonde girl with her hair in a ponytail and a red bow on her head was holding out a box of animal crackers. She smiled warmly at him.
“I sawed what happened. You can have mine if you want. I seen you eat them every Tuesday on the playground.” She told him, and he just stared into her innocent blue eyes, confused and drawn to her.
“I can’t eat your crackers.” He told her and she only smiled bigger.
“They are yours. I getted them at the store jus for you, jus in case you didn’t have any one Tuesday.” She told him, and he grudgingly took them from her.
“Why?” he asked, glancing at the box of animal crackers, before turning back to her.
“Well,” she began thoughtfully, “cuz I want to be your friend.” She turned away from him, walking back to the brunette girl before turning her head back round to him. “By the way, I like your blue hat. It matches your shirt.”
That was all it took; she had him hooked. Of course, however, he couldn’t let anyone know he had a crush on a second grader. So, instead, he brutalized her. Every day was something new, whether it was knocking her lunch tray from her hands, tripping her in front of everyone, or calling her names like ‘loser’ or ‘geek’. He was her tormentor and he rode the fine line between loving it and hating it; it was the only way he could get close to her without everyone knowing how he felt. She always gave him tender looks, hurt and loss raged in her eyes every time he acted on his feelings. But she put up with it, never hollering at him or hurting him in any manner. This torment went on for years and in the fourth grade, when he was held back due to flagrant laziness and landed himself in her class, it only got worse. He just couldn’t control himself.
Fast forward to seventh grade biology, when they get paired up as lab partners to dissect a frog. He went by the nickname ‘Terrorizer’ for the demolition he caused on the football field, and didn’t bother her as he had when they were young children. Instead, they seemed to feign ignorance when they happened by one another. She hadn’t protested against being his lab partner, but instead seemed excited. As they put on their goggles and gloves, he stared hard at her, wondering why she was seemingly unperturbed. In fact she was humming to herself as she stuck pins into the frog.
“Hey loser, what is your deal?” he had asked her. After a moment of her humming, he realized that she had completely ignored him. This ran under his skin. After all of the hell he had caused her, she can just ignore him? He sure as hell couldn’t ignore her if he tried. He gripped her shoulder and turned her to face him, causing her to drop the pin she was holding. Big mistake, he realized as he jerked his hand from her arm, the feel of her still running wild through him.
“Are you ok?” she asked him, staring at the confused look on his face.
“I…I…” he stammered when they locked eyes. Suddenly he was lost in a sea of ice, and he felt everything inside of him warm at the connection. “I’m sorry.” He finished before reaching down to pick up the pin she had dropped. Straightening up, he handed her the pin back. She slowly took it from him, smiling warmly.
“Thank you Preston.” She said warmly, before turning back to the project at hand. He swallowed hard, his voice struggling to find the words. He was astounded
at her actions and sincerity.
“Why…” he looked around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Immediately, she stopped, turning to face him. The movement was so quick that he jumped back a little in surprise.
“Well,” she said, looking at the floor for a moment before raising her gaze to his. Curiosity was etched into her features. “Why wouldn’t I be? We’re friends, right?” she asked, and without waiting for an answer, she smiled once more and turned back to the frog. All he could do was stand there and watch her work, his mind in endless wonder of the young girl before him.
The rest of that year, he had watched her from afar, her effect on him never losing its amazement on his heart and mind. He constantly questioned things. How could she be so warm and inviting with him after everything he had done? Did she even know who he was? It didn’t seem so; yes, she glanced at him and smiled from time to time, but she did that with everyone. She was just an openly friendly person and he envied that about her. He bottled up every emotion he had towards her, and towards himself and his cowardice and regret. There were times he would gather the nerve to tell her hi, or ask how she was doing, but those moments were few and far between.
The last time he remembered seeing her as a kid, she had walked through the halls, talking to one of her many friends whenever some kid from a higher class walked by and swatted her ass. It was a playful gesture; the guy hadn’t meant it as inappropriately as it had happened, but as soon as Miles had seen the disgusted and uncomfortable look on her face, he forgot everything else. He launched at the kid, slinging him against the wall and pounding his face in blind fury. He had lost it, releasing everything he had bottled up against himself, everything he had kept hidden for her. He had almost killed the kid, not stopping until three other guys pulled him off of the guy’s unconscious body.