by J. Thorn
He left me speechless- completely without the ability to speak. Vaughan was not Hendrix. He did not attack my emotions the same way Hendrix did- like a full on offensive assault. Vaughan was laid-back and non-invasive. He was slow and steady and made me fall into him because I got caught up in his sturdy current- not because he demanded I face my feelings and come to terms with them.
Eventually he apologized, “I know it’s a lot to ask you. And I honestly hate myself for putting you in this position, but you are rare. And not just because you happen to be the only girl available in years. But because you are this incredible person and I’m drawn to you. And if this was a different world or life, I would fight for you; I would go up against Hendrix and let the best man win.” He paused thoughtfully and let all those thoughts and confessions settle in the air between us. Then he said, “I have to do what’s best for my family. I will always do what’s best for my family.”
After several more minutes of stomping through the muddy forest, I finally let out a breath of air. My chest felt constricted with too much emotion and oxygen and my stomach curdled with nerves. In the most honest part of my soul I knew I was not in a scenario where a love-triangle could be allowed to fester. It wasn’t right for either boy and it sucked for me. I had come to care for them both.
And so I was honest, “I don’t want to have to make a decision after only knowing you guys for a short time.”
I sounded petulant and angry, but I couldn’t help it. The worst part was, none of this attitude was directed at the Parker brothers. It was the Feeders who had ruined my love life- or at least changed it into something I wasn’t ready for.
“I’m sorry, Reagan,” Vaughan said sincerely.
“I like you Vaughan,” I whispered. “And I like your brother. But I don’t like either of you enough to decide who I want to be with for the rest of my life. And honestly I don’t know if I really want either of you at all.”
He laughed, surprised at my honesty.
“But it’s true,” I insisted. “How am I supposed to know who I’m compatible with? Or who pisses me off more?” I did crack a tiny smile for him after that one. “I can’t tell you that you don’t have a chance with me because I don’t know either of you enough for me to really have any idea. But I do care about you both. And I would never want to come between you and your brother. Never, ever. Sure, I like you both, but I also respect you both. And I think better of all three of us than that we could let something like this ruin our relationship.”
He didn’t say anything after that, just walked for a little while in silence. He was lost in his thoughts and I was tangled and tripped up by my own, so neither of us was making very good company. The silent tracking of Nelson and Hendrix’s footprints was the only thing that occupied us outwardly.
“They made these on purpose,” Vaughan finally admitted. “They gave us a trail to follow.”
“Like Hansel and Gretel?” I smirked.
“Exactly,” he chuckled. “But seriously, Reagan, if you’re ever separated from us- know that we will always leave behind clues to find us.”
“That is very good to know,” I replied sincerely. It didn’t surprise me though, to know that any of the Parker brothers could choose whether to leave a trail or blend in completely. They were like super-human GI Joes. At the end of this whole Apocalypse thing, I was petitioning to have action figures made of them.
A few more minutes in silence and Vaughan said, “It’s Hendrix.”
Quietly and with my heart in my throat I confessed, “For now it is Hendrix.”
“I’m Ok with that,” he shrugged. “I just wanted to know early, you know? I didn’t want this to get worse than it already was.”
“You’re not heartbroken are you?” I shoved him gently in the bicep.
He laughed some more, “Not this time. But you are a catch, Reagan. He’s a lucky guy.”
“He’s not anything yet,” I argued. “We are not together in any way. It’s not like I’m choosing him over you, it’s just like I’m not not picking him.”
After a minute of digesting that, Vaughan laughed and said, “He’s a little intense, right?”
I bounced up and down and agreed enthusiastically, “Right! What is with that?”
“He’s always been like that,” he explained casually. “Always. Even when we were younger he just took things more seriously. He doesn’t really second guess himself either, he just makes a decision and then stands by it no matter what.”
“It’s unnerving,” I groaned.
“Yeah, I could sense that.” We walked for a few minutes in silence and then Vaughan admitted, “You’re the first girl he’s ever turned his tractor beam of determination on though. It’s kind of interesting to watch.”
“So I’m like a sideshow?”
“More like reality TV.”
I punched him in the arm.
“Hey! It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
“No wonder you conceded.” I tried to joke about it, but he winced instead of laughed and I realized it was probably a little bit too soon to turn my sarcasm on his semi-unrequited feelings. Oops.
“You are understanding what I’m saying though, right?” When I shook my head he explained, “You’re the first girl he’s ever been into. Ever, Reagan. Not just post-Zombies. He has never been all that into a girl before.”
“Oh!”
“Oh, what? You get it?”
“Oh, I get that he’s a virgin. That makes a little more sense.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Vaughan put his hands up like he was offended by my conclusion. “I said you’re the first girl he’s ever been into. Not the first girl he’s ever noticed. Come on; spare my brother some of his pride.”
“You know what?” I asked sarcastically, after deciding very much that I hated all boys and if I had my choice right now between making out with an arrogant, womanizing, weird Parker brother or a Zombie, I was so going with the Zombie. “Boys are such pigs.”
“Because he’s not saving himself for his soul mate?”
“Because it should be important!” I was hot- blazing with anger. “It’s not something you just throw at the first person that drops their pants in front of you! It’s this thing…. This thing that you’re supposed to give to someone, not lose by accident and indifference!”
“You’re mad because he’s not a virgin? Because I’m going to be honest with you, unless you’re interested in Harrison or King you’re not going to find-“
“Vaughan!” I exclaimed- as in the definition of exclaimed. I cried out both suddenly and vehemently and I was both surprised and outraged. “I’m not expecting you to be virgins! I’m just saying, Hendrix has never even felt close to something like love or affection for a girl, yet that didn’t stop him from giving away this huge part of himself. My point was that it doesn’t have to be like that- I mean, you should wait until it’s special.”
“Even in the Zombie Apocalypse?”
“Even in the Zombie Apocalypse,” I nodded with feeling.
“You’re a strange, surprisingly sentimental girl, Reagan. I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“Then don’t,” I quickly ordered him. “It’s weird talking about my virginity with you, even if it’s in the context of saving your immortal soul.”
Vaughan’s head dropped, chin to chest and I couldn’t tell if he was irritated with me, or laughing at me. “It’s weird talking about my brother’s sex life too. Probably that breaks some kind of man code.”
“Probably” I giggled.
“Stop moving!” A deep but young masculine voice shouted from a to-be-determined location. “Drop your weapons and put your hands in the air!”
“Shit,” Vaughan cursed under his breath, but immediately complied. His two handguns hit the forest floor with a dull thud.
This surprised me some- but only because I expected him to pull out an oozie from somewhere hidden in his cargo pants and engage first. Obviously that was not
possible and the few guns a piece with limited ammo was not going to cut it when we couldn’t even see the body attached to the voice.
Vaughan lifted his hands above his head and shot me a look that demanded I do the same. I shook my head.
“No way,” I bit out.
“Reagan,” he growled in a warning voice.
“Drop your weapons!” A second voice shouted, angry and demanding.
“That sounds like a terrible idea,” I taunted. “Why don’t you come get them?”
Silence.
From them. Not from Vaughan.
“Reagan, do you trust me?” he whispered. His eyes were pleading with me to do just that, but my stubborn pride was getting in the way. I wanted to feel fear and anxiety over yet another new threat, but the irritation that we had somehow managed to get caught- again- was pumping through my blood louder and fiercer than the appropriate terror I should be experiencing.
“Vaughan, your brothers,” I whispered.
A haunted look of panic crossed his expression but his jaw clenched with frustration. “Trust me.” It was a silent plea and I was almost ready to submit.
A snapping branch to our left had us both swirling around when a strong arm clasped around my waist from behind and the cold metal of a large barreled gun pressed against my temple. We were completely distracted and they had managed to trap us. This was so not how I imagined our gallant rescue going.
In a smug and somewhat arrogant voice I declared to Vaughan, “I told you the woods were a terrible idea!”
Chapter Two
“Son of a bitch,” I hissed, loathing the feel of captivity and helplessness.
“Instead of talking about my mother,” a growly voice I’d never heard before warned in a slow southern drawl. His voice rumbled against my head, rolled down my neck and skittered across my spine. I hated him instantly- whoever he was. But even my hatred could not outweigh the suffocating feeling of foreboding that carried in the air as he spoke. “Why don’t you obey the command?”
The muscled arm tightened around my waist and my breathing picked up with the pulsing fear I finally felt. Vaughan spun around and took a lunging step forward. He plucked his remaining gun from the back of his pants and had it cocked and aimed at the stranger pressing his chest into my body in half a second.
The other two voices appeared then, both behind Vaughan, and as if out of thin air. Their guns were aimed at his head in another breath and their threat and intent clear. Their arms were straight and steady, their bodies wound for the attack.
I shook my head and pressed my lips together. With a steadying breath, I clicked the safety on the handgun I was holding with my right hand and then dropped it to the ground. I reached into my waistband and pulled out my second weapon, dropping it at my feet as well. Both of my hands felt empty and useless. My entire spirit deflated with defeat and frustrated tears pricked at the corner of my eyes- but I would in no way give into them.
The rest of my guns were pressed against my back in my canvas backpack as my captor leaned into my body and held me close to him. Fractures of anxiety sparked and crackled all over my skin. I did not like this guy touching me.
Not at all.
Vaughan’s arms and hands were steady while he did not remove his threat, even after I lost my weapons- or at least some of them. I looked at him, begging him to lose his final gun. I was stubborn before, but the tables were turned. I wouldn’t lose him. I wouldn’t be responsible for something happening to him.
“I trust you,” I promised in a low, vulnerable voice. My stomach churned with anxiety and my breathing was quick and panicked.
Vaughan’s dark blue eyes fell to mine and flashed with pain. He seemed to make the decision now as if it physically hurt him. Relaxing his shoulders he clicked on the safety and then released the gun so it slid around his finger and hung limply upside down. He stepped back into a more submissive stance and kept his eyes trained on me.
The guys behind Vaughan- both no older than eighteen or nineteen- took a step forward and detained him. One retrieved his gun and the other handcuffed his hands behind his back. A feeling like ice cold water doused my insides, coating my blood and drowning my lungs.
Real f-ing handcuffs. Not rope. Not plastic ties. Handcuffs.
Damn it.
“There’s a good girl,” the asshole behind me murmured close to my ear. His gun fell from my temple and after a few more agonizing moments he took a step back and released me. On his way, his obnoxiously deft, fast fingers nabbed my thin backpack straps and pulled them easily from my body. His rough fingers brushed against my lower back in an all too familiar gesture and I stifled a shudder of revulsion.
“Touch me again and I will murder you,” I warned in my most threatening growl.
This incited a low chuckle from him and my heart started hammering in my chest for an entirely different reason now. Fear was replaced with white, blinding anger; panic was replaced by clear purpose and compliance was easily substituted by a stubborn rebellion that raced and sprinted through my veins.
The bastard didn’t listen.
He grasped my hands that hung tight and fisted at my sides and with shocking gentleness pulled them behind my back. I felt the biting cold of the metal as he snapped the cuffs into place. My shoulders and biceps were already pulling against the restraints and I knew I needed to relax, or my arms would be completely useless by the time I could have access to them again.
“Walk,” the guy behind me ordered.
Vaughan didn’t move. And neither did I.
The guy behind me put his two hands on my shoulders, their size and strength completely eclipsing my seemingly petite frame by comparison. He gave me a mild push forward and warned, “Walk or I’ll carry you.”
And I was walking.
Vaughan was next to me in an instant. His shoulder brushed and bumped against mine as he made an effort to walk as close to me as he could while our arms were awkwardly tied behind our backs.
My attention fell to the forest floor. My body was now off balance and it took my full concentration to navigate the uneven terrain. And it was for this reason alone I saw one of the young gunmen stick out their foot and trip Vaughan.
He fell immediately forward and without the brace of hands to catch him, went down heavily. I stopped and gasped in outrage. He somehow managed to keep his head and face away from the ground, but his body bowed in the mud and I could physically feel his seething anger.
I paused to wait for him, to help share in his frustration and powerlessness, but the guy behind me urged me forward with another hand on the center of my back. “Keep moving,” he demanded.
I had no choice- at least in this moment- but to obey. But I did so slowly, very, very slowly. After I listened intently for Vaughan to struggle to his feet and when I was satisfied they were close behind us I turned my attention back to the path I was walking and the captor now at my side.
“That was on purpose,” I observed. “To separate us.”
“To separate you,” he confirmed.
I glanced over at him and took him in for the first time. He was as tall as any of the Parker brothers but more thickly built. Where Hendrix and Vaughan were lean, sculpted muscle, this guy was thick, bulking power. He shoulders were insanely wide and his biceps and forearms seemed to bulge with unquestionable strength. He was obviously well fed- not that he was fat, he was the opposite of that, but only a steady supply of nutrition and protein could accomplish a physical form like that in today’s day and age. He had a dark, thick mop of wavy hair that was kept shortly cut and styled.
His face was cleanly shaven and showed off a strong jaw, angled cheek bones and thick, black lashes. His nose was the only imperfect feature on his face, crooked and with a notch at the top that signaled he had broken it at least once. He was gorgeous.
And that surprised me.
But in the kind of way that made me sick to my stomach and want to vomit. Cold, distant, serial-killer kind of beautiful. It was
hard to reconcile. His looks were just obviously perfect, but he had this effect…. like he was going to murder your puppies or cut out your heart and eat it.
“Where are you taking us?” I asked in a level voice. For some reason knowing he was beautiful made me relax some. It shouldn’t have, especially since nothing outside of his physical features was reassuring, but I calmed a little anyway.
“To town,” he answered easily.
I took another steadying breath. This had to be the same town that Hendrix and Nelson were “visiting.” So whether they’d been captured like us, or were still working out a way to find medicine for Page, we would mostly likely run into them.
“You look…. well fed,” I commented dryly. I didn’t understand my need to talk to him, but it seemed to unrattle my nerves; by starting conversation and forcing him to answer I felt like I had some control of this situation.
“I am.” Another answer. He wasn’t very secretive.
For some reason I imagined cold killers to be secretive. He was throwing me.
Although he wasn’t very forthcoming either.
“How?” I asked incredulously. “How are you well fed?”
We had come to the edge of the forest. A high school spread out before us- football field and track with metal bleachers on both sides. Beyond that a soccer field and baseball diamond. And then the school itself- completely brick, with no visible windows on this side of the building.
The sun was finally a presence in the sky and early morning light spilled across the school property bringing the empty silence that surrounded us into sharp display. Two years ago this was probably brand new, or relatively new. The bleachers were still shiny, the buildings still intact and the grass almost green.
My stoic captor shot me a grave look and admitted, “We eat our prisoners.”
I had no idea if he was serious or joking. It seemed odd that he would joke with me, but then it seemed worse that he could be serious. I stared at him, deep into his gray eyes and looked for truth. There was nothing but a challenge meeting me and it unnerved me worse than his gun to my head.