Cities of Rust

by Ariel Bonin

  Lindsey stood before Isaac. She curled her fingers around the handle of his gun, securing the weight of it in her tight grasp. The cocky look on his face only intensified her anger. She yearned for vengeance.

  Pulling back the hammer, she knelt down and shoved the weapon into his mouth. With a glare, she squeezed the trigger, exploding a bullet through the back of his head.

  Lindsey righted herself and dropped the gun into the dirt with a muffled thump. In a single blink, she stood over the body of a small girl. With wispy blonde hair and large brown eyes, it only took Lindsey a moment to figure out who she was looking at.

  Herself.

  Tears lingered behind Lindsey's eyes, but they didn't come. She collapsed to her knees, resting a hand on the warm earth. To her surprise, she exhaled and a puff of breath appeared, which quickly vanished into thin air.

  Lindsey jerked into consciousness. It took her a moment to adjust to her surroundings. Moonlight filtered through the lacy curtains, faintly outlining shapes in their dark bedroom. Lindsey stared up at the white ceiling as she attempted to quell her shuddering breaths. Running a hand over her face, she swallowed hard and tried to ignore the alarming thoughts that were pounding in her head. She didn't want to think about what the dream meant. It was almost too obvious, but she didn't want to believe it.

  Was she getting cold?

  Rustling noises permeated the quiet room and Jacob released a small whine. Lindsey glanced at Andrew and his slow, even breaths told her that he was out. She lifted the covers and slipped on her pants and shirt. She tiptoed across the room, lifted Jacob from his basket, and, after wrapping the boy in a baby blanket, cradled him close.

  As not to disturb Andrew, Lindsey left the room and took Jacob downstairs. Charlie was on watch, so that meant the living room was clear. She sat down in the rocking chair by the fireplace, adjusted Jacob to lie across her arms, and started to rock.

  Immediately, she began reflecting on her dream, even though it was the last thing she wanted to think about. It reminded her of a study she'd heard of in college: if you told someone about a pink elephant, and then said that they couldn't think about that elephant for the next five minutes, it ended up being the only thing they could think about. As much as she tried to push the dream out of her mind, it only got worse.

  In an effort to distract herself, Lindsey stared down at the precious human in her arms. Jacob was still too young to have a permanent eye color, but it was obvious that they were turning blue. He looked up at Lindsey with those beautiful cobalt eyes, the constant rocking motion causing his lids to droop. Lindsey dropped a kiss on Jacob's forehead and paused to inhale his sweet baby scent.

  Since it was an unusually warm night, the nearby window was cracked. Low voices drifted through the opening, and Lindsey couldn't help but eavesdrop.

  "What do you think we'll find when we get there?" Nadie asked. Lindsey assumed she was referring to New Canaan.

  "It's hard to say." That was clearly Charlie. She'd always wondered how his voice could sound soft and rough at the same time. "If there's nothin', who says we can't stay anyway? As long as it's not a cult or another Factory, we'll make it work."

  "That's true." Nadie paused. "If it really is a safe zone, what's the first thing you're going to do?"

  Charlie snickered. "You mean like, I don't have to keep watch all night? Sleep."

  As Nadie laughed, he continued on.

  "You shoulda seen the shithole we were in last week—actually, nah, I'm glad you didn't. If we can avoid that set-up again, I'm good."

  There was an uncomfortable silence, but Lindsey knew the two were close enough to carry on with the current subject.

  "What really happened at The Factory?" Nadie asked.

  Lindsey held her breath as she waited for Charlie's response. He wasn't the type to gossip, but it was normal to divulge even the most private details to your best friend.

  "It don't matter now," he responded. "We got through it and we ain't goin' back."

  "Andrew seems okay," Nadie said, subtly prompting Charlie to elaborate on the new topic.

  "Yeah, I think we have Lindsey to thank for that."

  The young woman's ears perked up at the mention of her name.

  "Andrew needed someone like her," Nadie said. "There was only so much we could do for him."

  "So, what you're sayin' is that the guy just needed to get laid?"

  Lindsey heard a muted smack and assumed that Nadie had slapped his arm.

  "I'm sure it helped, though," Nadie said at last, and it was clear that she was smiling. Lindsey shut her eyes in silent embarrassment, but she, too, was holding back a smile. Charlie must have leaned closer to the woman, because she had to strain to hear his next statement.

  "I know it's more than that. A few hours ago I saw Kat puttin' the moves on our man. He shut her down, quick."

  Lindsey's face felt hot all of a sudden. While she was not particularly happy with Kat's behavior, she couldn't blame the woman—she was also quite partial to Andrew's masculine physique. It did bring her some comfort though to know that Andrew was faithful, even when tempted by a gorgeous woman like Kat.

  On the stairs, a creak grabbed her attention and she saw Andrew leaning against the railing, almost as if he'd known she was thinking about him. He was wearing his usual dark jeans and had left his plaid shirt open, revealing a sliver of his nicely-toned chest and abdomen.

  "Hey," he called softly, his voice heavy with sleep. "Everything all right?"

  Lindsey got to her feet, moving with extra care now that Jacob was asleep. "Yeah… We were both up. I didn't want to wake you."

  They met halfway up the staircase. Andrew stroked a hand over Jacob's fine hair. His hooded eyes gleamed in the darkness as he looked at his son, then Lindsey.

  "Come on, let's get you both back to bed," he sighed with a quirk of his lips.

  Chapter 32

  After breakfast, the guys resumed their inventory of supplies. Earlier in the morning, the group had decided on which vehicles to take—their black sedan, Charlie's pickup, and Nicholas’s Humvee. Charlie insisted on taking his motorcycle, and no one dared to say otherwise. Robert was disappointed to lose his Camaro, but Andrew reminded him that they were going to an island—the vehicles were needed for only so long.

  Nicholas and Tyler began with the fuel supply and tools. Robert and Zoey assessed their food situation. That left Andrew and Charlie with weapons and ammunition. The two men spread everything out on a cloth tarp in the yard. The stash they'd confiscated from The Factory was quite substantial: twelve handguns, six assault rifles, four hunting rifles, two shotguns, and well over one thousand rounds of ammunition. What was leftover from the school just about doubled those numbers.

  Andrew was checking the scope on one of the rifles when Charlie broke his concentration.

  "Saw you and Kat last night… Always knew you were a man of integrity," the rancher quipped with a smirk.

  Andrew's gaze snapped up. "You saw that?"

  It'd been an innocent exchange and he figured Lindsey for a rational woman, but still, he didn't want anyone to know it had happened.

  "Was gettin' ready for my shift and walked right in on it. Heard you tell her how it is… Good for you, man," Charlie said with admiration.

  Andrew closed the gap between them and said, "Not a word to Lindsey, okay? We're about to take the mother of all road trips—I'd prefer not to have any catfights."

  Charlie scoffed. "Mouth's shut. Besides, you think she's even like that?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "If you looked up the word 'sweet' in the dictionary, there'd be big ol' picture of Lindsey. I don't see her hidin' a pair of claws," he retorted, holding up a hand with bent fingers.

  Andrew shook his head on a laugh. He had to agree with Charlie on that one. With an arched brow, he changed the subject, refocusing all attention onto the other man.

  "So, you and Nadie?"

  Charlie loaded rounds into a handgun mag and
didn't look up from his task. "What of it?"

  Andrew shrugged. "I'm happy for you. You deserve it—both'a you."

  Charlie glanced at Andrew, his eyes narrowed from the midday sun. He was fighting some kind of internal battle. Andrew imagined he wasn't used to other people caring about him, outside of his own children.

  While a snarky comment was most likely imminent, Andrew was surprised when Charlie replied with a humble, "Thanks."

  _____

  Lindsey offered to take care of Jacob for the day when Ana and Caren were given the job of collecting water from the wells. Before lunch, the latter woman said she was feeling unusually tired and asked to switch with Lindsey. Noticing that Caren did look quite worn, Lindsey had no problem with it. She exited the farmhouse, grabbed two empty containers, and crossed the yard to meet Ana.

  On the other side of the lawn, which was now more like a field, she could see Andrew and Charlie. Each of them held a disassembled rifle and appeared to be cleaning the various pieces. Kat was on watch again and she passed by them with a friendly smile. The two men acknowledged her with a nod, but that was all. The simple act allowed Lindsey to exhale the tension she didn't realize she'd been holding in.

  She met Ana at the well and set down the clear plastic canisters.

  "Caren okay?" Ana asked with an expression of concern.

  Lindsey unscrewed a top from one of the cans and passed it to Ana. "She looked pretty beat. Jacob just went down for a nap, so I think she'll be able to get some rest."

  Ana began pumping water from the well and threw Lindsey a weary glance. "Want a turn?"

  She chuckled. "Sure."

  They swapped places, and, after less than a minute, Lindsey could already feel her arm burning from the exertion.

  "Are you still feeling uneasy about the trip?" Ana asked as she capped off a full container.

  Lindsey sighed. "How can I not? I hate to be a pessimist, but Samuel…he was just the tip of the iceberg. I believe there's more men like him out there—worse even." She leveled her gaze with Ana's. "You don't walk away from what we just experienced and say, 'That was the worst thing that could happen.' No, you say, 'If that could happen, what else is possible'?"

  The other woman nodded and remained quiet. At last, she said in a low voice, "I know what you had to do for him. From one woman to another, I can tell you that it does get worse—much, much worse." Ana's dark eyes were haunted, and Lindsey knew she was envisioning Marcus.

  "I'm sorry," Lindsey mumbled. For what he did to you and for bringing it up.

  Ana picked up the second container and her tone was significantly lighter when she said, "I'm sorry, too. There's always something that you could've done different. Just keep your guard up and don't repeat your mistakes—that's all you can do."

  Lindsey admired the resilient woman next to her. She felt compelled to end their conversation on a positive note.

  "On the bright side, there's strength in numbers and we've got that. If anyone tries to get away with something, we'll make sure they regret it."

  Ana agreed, but Lindsey repeated the last sentence in her head. She briefly considered her dream and felt a shiver run through her body. The sensation raised the tiny hairs on her arm, even though the sun was hot on her skin. Lindsey's gaze traveled to the dirt beneath her feet. She imagined the dead little girl—herself—lying on the warm ground, a pool of congealed blood and brains spreading from her tiny head.

  "Lindsey?" Ana prompted, startling her.

  She glanced up and saw that Andrew was standing next to them with an expectant look on his handsome face. Lindsey stared at him, then Ana, completely unaware of what he'd asked them. Ana scrutinized her with a frown, and answered Andrew since Lindsey seemed unable to.

  "Yes, we'd love some help getting these back to the truck."

  Ana lifted two full canisters and headed for the house. Andrew took a step toward Lindsey and touched her arm.

  "You okay?" he whispered, his blue eyes much more brilliant than usual.

  Lindsey forced a smile and picked up her containers of water as she said, "Yeah, never better."

  Andrew didn't move and gave her the same look that Ana had only a moment ago. She knew he could see right through her.

  "Come on, I thought you said you were going to help us," she quipped in an attempt to end the discussion right there.

  Andrew took the remaining canisters without a word, but kept his keen eyes on her the whole time. Lindsey didn't realize that, at this point in their relationship, he could almost always tell when she was lying to him.

  She wasn't okay.

  _____

  For their last evening at the ranch, Caren called everyone together for dinner. Much to their delight, Nadie had prepared a hearty soup and freshly-baked bread. When everyone took a seat at the table, the underlying tone was incredibly somber. Without delay, Caren got the group's attention from the head of the table.

  "I know we're leaving in the morning, but, tonight, we can't focus on the future. We need to enjoy right now, together." She raised her fancy water glass in a toast. "To the present. Other than each other, it's all we have."

  Andrew tapped his wine glass against Lindsey's and proceeded to wink at her over the rim as they both took a sip. She gave him a shy smile, her brown eyes twinkling in the candlelight. He was glad to see her in a lighter mood. Something had been bothering her for the past couple of days; she was acting distant and a tad withdrawn, but he currently saw no sign of that.

  Well over an hour later, everyone remained at the table, keeping the atmosphere as carefree as possible. Lindsey was on her third glass of wine, and Andrew found amusement in her loose demeanor.

  "If there was one superhero that you could survive with in the apocalypse," Zoey prompted, "who would you want it to be?"

  "You first," Lindsey said, swirling the dark liquid around in her glass.

  "Iron Man," Zoey answered with a grin. "His suit could get us out of anything!"

  Lindsey offered her an appreciative glance. "I wouldn't mind coming across him on a dusty back road. Though, I find the Punisher a little more to my liking."

  As Zoey gave her a nod of approval, Andrew pursed his lips and pinned her under his steely blue gaze.

  "Harley Quinn," he said, trying to get back at Lindsey for lusting after the fictional character.

  She was in the middle of taking a sip and held up one hand. "Nuh-uh. Harley isn't a superhero."

  "Neither is the Punisher," Andrew retorted, "but would we hold that against them?"

  Lindsey just smirked.

  Nadie walked into the room with a plate of cookies—stale Oreos, to be exact—and asked if anyone wanted tea or coffee. The normalcy of that moment didn't slip past Andrew. It was as if they were all gathered together for some special occasion, like Thanksgiving. He took a deep breath and observed the cheerful faces around the table. While Caren had told them not to think of what might happen after tonight, he had to wonder if they would all be sitting together like this in New Canaan.

  His gaze slid over to Lindsey and he caught her staring into her wine glass. With a faraway look in her eyes, she did not appear the least bit happy anymore. He watched her closely, and yet she still didn't raise her head. Instead, her frown deepened as she chewed on her bottom lip.

  Hating to watch Lindsey torture herself for another instant, Andrew laid a gentle hand on her knee, jolting her out her hypnotic state. She gave him a soft smile, but he could tell it was forced, similar to one she'd given him the other day at the well.

  Compassion dripped from his husky voice as he stroked her leg. "You ready to head up to bed?"

  Lindsey nodded, eluding his gaze. She set her glass on the table and accepted Andrew's hand when he offered it to her. They stood, and he squeezed Zoey's shoulder.

  "Don't stay up too late. We've got an early start tomorrow."

  When she agreed, Andrew regarded the lively group before him.

  "See you all in the morning!"

&
nbsp; He continued to hold Lindsey's hand as he led her upstairs. Once she crossed the threshold of their bedroom, he shut the door and looked over at her. She rummaged through her bag and produced the clothes she always wore to bed. Andrew used that time to check on Jacob and made sure he was still sound asleep in his basket.

  Lindsey turned her back to Andrew and stripped off her shirt. He remained on the other side of the room, tormenting himself with how to breach the sensitive subject. Her name hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he was hesitant to say anything at all—the last thing he wanted to do was upset her. He watched as she removed her bra, baring the smooth expanse of her toned back. Andrew yearned to reach out and touch her, to graze his lips over her soft skin. As she pulled on her tank top, he finally found the will to speak.

  "Lindsey?" he whispered.

  Her posture stiffened, but she didn't turn around. She began to take off her boots and pants, and merely asked, "What?"

  Andrew diverted his eyes to the floor; he needed to focus on what he was trying to say. When he heard the wisp of her shorts as they brushed against her legs, he figured it was probably safe to look. She continued to move about the room, and Andrew stepped in front of her.

  "Hey," he said, stopping Lindsey with a hand on her shoulder.

  "What?" she snapped, causing Jacob to stir in his basket.

  Andrew was taken aback by her unexpected attitude and his brows drew together. Lindsey closed her eyes on a sigh.

  "I'm sorry. It's just been a long day."

  It had been a long day, but that was a pretty normal occurrence—she'd never acted like this, though. Her sudden change in behavior was distressing to say the least. Tonight was his last opportunity to give her his undivided attention and provide the peace of mind she would need for this trip.

  _____

  Lindsey stared at Andrew miserably. She felt terrible for snapping at him. He'd been sweet the entire evening, and all she had been was self-absorbed. The dream from the other night still had a grip on her. It stirred up every troubling memory from the past two years, forcing her to remember them whenever she had a quiet moment to herself. She was almost thankful for this upcoming journey; she hoped it would act as a distraction from the thoughts swirling in her head.