Summer called after her, but she knew she wouldn’t come back. She sat in silence for she didn’t know how long, not moving from her spot on the floor.
Tania was right. It wasn’t that she wanted to get away from her family, or the responsibility was too much. Rather, it was the pain of seeing the strong, resilient frame of her mother slowly weaken as her body was attacked with chemicals trying to kill the parts of her own body that were killing her.
Summer was revolted with the silent confession that it felt like a relief to think of leaving the confines of her house. It was the place where she couldn’t help but be consumed by the terrible possibility that she could lose her mom. Times like these were when families grew closer, and they had. Michael seemed to tease Tania less, and Tania even hugged Summer once after she had finished pulling weeds, which was strange considering her usual germaphobic avoidance of anyone who smelled of outside. This added to Summer’s guilt, knowing that there was still a part of her that wanted to return to school and forget that any of this was happening.
She looked around the room that she had grown up in and wanted to release the emotions inside of her. Yet, she couldn’t. It was as if her feelings were like the gobs of paint that her mom used to put on a paper plate for her to use when she fingerpainted as a kid. She had blues and yellows, reds and greens, yet in the end, she always smeared them together and ended up with some version of brown. That’s how she felt now with all the intensity of her different emotions merging together just to become the ugly shade of numbness. Eventually, she picked her jeans back up and finished packing the remainder of her clothes.
When she arrived back on campus, it seemed that something had been taken away from it. The buildings were all the same, and there was still that bustle in the hallways between classes, yet the luster that had so appealed to Summer when she had first arrived was gone. She struggled to pay attention in her classes, and her notes were sloppy. Jenson and Emily invited her to some back-to-school party the first weekend they were all back, but instead, Summer shut herself in her room and went to bed early.
Even the library seemed gloomier than before, but in a way that is precisely what Summer wanted. She began to take more shifts to fill her time, and even after her shift ended that next Monday, she found herself roaming among the rows of orderly books. She liked reading the different titles that were around her, but eventually she forgot to read them and instead let her hand drag along the shelves feeling the cool touch of the leather bindings.
She reached the end of an aisle and there stood a bust of Socrates. Summer stared at the sculpture of angular lines molded out of white stone and remembered the story of Socrates and the young student who desired to learn. If she remembered the story correctly, Socrates ended up almost drowning the boy to prove the point that the desire to learn should be as urgent as the boy’s desire was to breathe.
Summer’s comparative law Professor, Dr. Stephens, had pulled her aside yesterday afternoon and lectured her about her poor participation during the class. She told Summer that such behavior during the very first week of school was unacceptable and suggested that she find a different profession if she was struggling with finding interest in the material. Summer didn’t excuse herself, but assured Dr. Stephens that she would be better. She had fought down the urge to get angry as she left Dr. Stephens’ office, but the memory came back to her as she stared at the stern sculpture in front of her. Suddenly, it all started coming up like the heavy weight of water bursting from the limits of a broken dam.
Summer found herself doubled over with her hand over her mouth as the tears streamed, and she tried to hold in the sounds of her sobs. She gripped the second shelf and tried to stop the incredible flood of loneliness that was escaping through her tears, yet the attempt to suppress it only made her cry harder. Her body convulsed with her sobs, and it was hard to breathe between them. She fell onto her knees and stayed that way for what seemed like forever, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes. Finally, the convulsions lessened and she wiped her face with her sleeves.
She blinked in disbelief as she saw a figure in front of her, half hidden behind the end of the row. It was the last person she wanted to see right now.
“I’m so sorry.” Julian blurted out when their eyes met.
“How long have you been standing there?” Summer’s voice was shaky as much as she tried to make it sound even.
“Not long.” He jumped to answer. “I swear I wasn’t spying on you. I mean I knew you still worked here, and I’ve wanted to catch up for forever but...” His words had gotten faster as it seemed he was racing to stop saying what was coming out of his mouth, but now he held up a thick book with a faded maroon cover in nervous relief. “I needed a book.”
Summer stared at him with no energy left to give a reaction.
“Here, let me help you up.” Julian sprung into action and leaped towards her to lift her from her knees.
Summer responded even faster and pushed his hands away as she pulled herself up.
“I’m fine.” She told him, though the expression of concern on his face told her that he had seen the whole episode that caused her eyes to feel puffy and her cheeks to be flushed a violent red.
“Alright.” He said, retracting his offered assistance. However, he was still close to her, and after they looked at each other for a moment, he slowly raised his hand to brush away the hair that had fallen in front of her face. Summer was locked into place with both confusion and curiosity as he let his hand follow down the line of her arm to stroke it lightly. He took her hand and gently pulled her closer. She cautiously put her arms around him, and he did the same. They stood that way in stillness, feeling uncomfortably natural holding each other, until a short exhale escaped from Summer as her breathing was recovering even after her tears had stopped.
“Summer, I—” Julian began, keeping his voice low.
Summer pulled away from his hold.
“I need to go.” She pushed her way past him and quickly exited the library, leaving him standing there in stupefaction.
That event was impossible in Summer’s mind, yet she found herself playing it back over and over again in the following days and weeks, clinging to it as if it held some kind of strength for her. She waited for him to return to the library, but the next time he showed up he was with two other students, and he barely gave the front desk a second look. Summer tried to ignore his presence there, but eventually gave in and wrote seven numbers down on a sticky note. When he had parted with his friends and looked like he was about to head up the stairs, Summer called over to him from her spot behind the desk.
He acted surprised, but Summer nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and waited as he came over to her. Apprehensively, she slipped the piece of paper into his hand and gave him a half smile. He didn’t smile back, but looked intently at her face. His expression appeared to be a mix of astonishment and concern. This reaction was not what Summer was expecting, but she waited, since it felt like he had something he was going to say. He cleared his throat, but Summer’s co-worker appeared at the side of the desk, asking for a reference number. Summer hurried to busy her hands and look the number up for her in an effort to hide the restless energy that was there before the interruption. Julian waited, but the computer system was being difficult, and Summer had to call the technical support. He eventually mouthed something to her that she wasn’t able to read and then left with the note in his hand.
She waited for him to call, but another week passed, and she didn’t hear anything. She considered reaching out to him somehow, but something was strange about the way he had looked at her when she gave him her number. Summer decided she would wait until the weekend was over to see if he would call.
She remembered the shock she involuntarily flinched at when the next Monday she heard the news. Julian was engaged to the dean’s daughter. They had gone on a weekend getaway to Boston
where he had popped the question on her father’s sailboat. At least that’s what Emily told her. Summer sifted through the few pieces of information she had, to remember who Julian’s fiance was. She remembered a girl with light brown hair and tan skin who looked like she could have spent her days surfing if the immaculate perfection of her nails and makeup didn’t give her away. Her face was pretty, and Summer had heard that she had been granted a research grant for her studies at Berkeley, which surprised everyone considering her well established presence at parties on the weekends. She certainly sounded like Julian’s type.
Unexpectedly, Summer’s phone did finally ring that Wednesday, but after hearing the news, she avoided Julian like a disease. She tried keeping up on her classes, but was unable to delve into them like she used to be able to do in response to the other stresses in her life. Eventually, Summer decided to meet with her academic counselor and explained the situation back in Oregon. She withdrew from classes the second to last day before the deadline and flew back home the following Sunday, taking an approved leave of absence. It seemed devastating at the time, but Summer remembered now that she came back only two months before The Invasion began.
A blessing in disguise, she repeated to herself.
Chapter 11
A biting wind hit Summer’s back, and she refocused her mind back to the present situation. Without the heat of the fire, the freezing temperature of the night was painfully apparent, and Summer stoked the fire as much for herself as for the cooking jerky pieces. The fire had little life left, and Summer looked down to the other campsite. She could still hear Tania giggling and stood up to trudge over to where the game of hacky sack was being played.
“It’s time for bed.” Summer announced once she had approached Tania and Julian. Tania rolled her eyes and tossed the bag once more over to Julian. He caught it with his hand and tucked it into his coat pocket. Tania frowned.
“Your sister’s right. We can play tomorrow.” He reassured her.
“Alright.” Tania agreed and murmured goodnight to Mccarthy who was sitting at the fire dozing off. She started walking back to their campsite, and Summer turned to follow.
“Are you going to do anything with that deerskin?” Julian was looking at where the carcass had been hanging from the aspen.
Summer turned back but hesitated.
“I don’t really know how to do that.” She admitted. “We mostly are just focused on the meat.”
“Well, would it be alright if I used it? My dad was a hunter, and he taught me a couple of things.”
“Sure.” She said. They both paused, and Julian’s gaze shifted from the carcass to the campsite above him with the smaller tent near the fire.
“Bridger seems like a lovely person.” The sarcasm in his voice had an edge to it.
“He protects us.” Summer shrugged her shoulders.
“The Summer I knew didn’t appear to need protection, especially when it looks more like control.”
The shadows from the fire danced on their faces making it hard for Summer to look at him squarely.
“Bridger doesn’t control me.” She replied in agitation.
“It sure looks like he does.”
“He was there for me when I needed him.” Summer threw back. “You think that you can just suddenly show up out of nowhere, play a game with my sister, and you immediately know everything about us? Well, you don’t. A lot has changed since we last saw each other.”
“I can see that.” Julian’s voice had lowered.
The poor light prevented Summer from seeing much, but she could imagine the snarky look that she had been used to combatting when they had shared classes together.
She threw up her hands and trudged back up to her own campsite before he could say any more.
The next morning, Summer was up as soon as the brightness of the sun began to shine on the icy landscape of the sleepy mountain. She folded the jerky into their knapsack and sat down by the fire she had revived. The deer’s antlers were by her side, and she began cutting away with her carving knife. She spied Julian up at the place where the deer was. He had skinned the deer, and the coat was now stretched out over the branches of a tree. They both worked in silence as the sun slowly started to rise, spreading pink streaks across the sky.
Eventually, Julian finished and crunched his way in the snow over to Summer’s fire. He had taken off his shirt in a likely attempt to avoid the smell of the carcass sticking to him, but it only agitated Summer to believe that there actually was a legitimate reason for him to do that. She tried to avoid looking at him, yet couldn’t help but notice the broadness of his shoulders and the chiseled definition of his chest and abdomen. Additionally, she observed that his left hand was devoid of a wedding band, but she was in no mood to ask about the past prospective marriage. Luckily, he pulled his shirt back on once he got to the fire and added a nearby branch to the flame. Summer watched him without moving her head as her hands continued the downward motion of sharpening the antler with her knife. The tension in the air was as loud as the wood crackling with the flames.
“I’m sorry about last night.” His voice was hushed so as not to disturb the others who were still asleep. “I didn’t mean to make assumptions, and I hope there’s nothing wrong between us.”
“Nothing at all.” Summer’s sarcasm was quick. Julian looked at her, and she paused in her work before sighing.
“I know Bridger wasn’t very friendly to you. In all honesty, he didn’t want your group to come with us at all. He needs to feel in charge, and he doesn’t like that to be threatened. I couldn’t take care of my family by myself and having him with us has made survival possible. I don’t expect you to understand it, but it’s probably best if we keep our distance from each other. He’s easily jealous, and I think everything would go smoother if we just do what he wants.”
Julian raised his eyebrows but said nothing.
“I wanted you with us, though,” Summer added. “I think it’ll be better for everyone this way.”
They sat by the fire in silence for a while until Julian returned to his own campsite and started their fire. Tania was the first to wake, and after heading to the other campground, she returned with an armful of canned vegetables. Gradually, everyone else got up, and they cooked themselves breakfast from the vegetables and jerky. They were getting ready to leave when Summer called Tania over to her.
“I’ve got something for you.” She said, handing her two pieces of antler. She had sharpened one of the ends and had carved a semi-circle handle into the other. “You were right. It is time you learn how to hunt and defend yourself. These probably won’t be the best for long-distance, but you can at least practice throwing them to work on your aim. That’s what I did.” Summer patted her holster holding the axes that were on the ground next to her.
“And the hunt?” Tania inquired, looking at Michael as he was helping Meline take down their tent.
“Yes, you can come on the next hunt with us.” Summer conceded.
Tania almost acted that she didn’t care about this exchange, but Summer watched as she carefully put the two daggers into the pouch that she carried across her shoulders.
Once both parties had packed everything up, they started their trek with Bridger, Michael, and Julian hauling the sleds behind them.
South was the direction of hope, since that was where the border was and where they might find The Caravan. When Bridger had led them into the mountains at the beginning of all this, the intent was to simply get as far away from the concentration camp as possible. The fear of being followed led them deeper into the mountains until they realized how frigid the winters were up there, though the amount of animals to hunt there had sustained them. Yet, the woman who had talked with Summer so long ago had told her that the Caravan was attempting to cross the American-Mexican border with the idea of leaving the Invaders behind them in America.
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sp; Summer carried a compass she had found in the inside pocket of her coat and every couple of hours she checked it. The pointing needle reassured her that they hadn’t gotten turned around by the twisted trails that wound around the Rocky Mountains. She also found herself regularly checking up on the three quiet women who walked together in a cluster. Two Marys and a Stephanie she recalled. All three of them wore long dresses made out of some kind of cotton or wool that reminded her of the Amish people she used to see at the mall sometimes. Luckily, it appeared that someone had convinced them of the impracticality of their chosen garb since they also were wearing heavy snow pants underneath that looked like the same brand as Mccarthy and Julian’s coats.
As the day wore on, the peaks above them began to shine as if their icy heads were sweating from the afternoon sun. Bridger was setting the pace at a faster rate than usual, and by the time they stopped for lunch, Meline looked quite unwell.
“Are you alright, mom?” Michael handed her two pieces of bread from Mccarthy’s stash with jerky in between.
“I’m fine.” She assured, taking the sandwich. “I’m just having a little bit of a hard time breathing.” She said as if it was a small matter.
Michael looked at Summer, and the wheezing sounds that accompanied their mother’s sleep resounded in the front of her mind.
“We’ll go slower.” Summer said loudly, looking up at the rock where Bridger was having his meal. Their eyes met, and he nodded in confirmation before taking a large bite of jerky and bread.
The sun was getting lower in the sky, and the main objective of their progression was now to find a suitable place to set up camp. The terrain around them had a constant inclination, making the possibility of a flat piece of ground seem less than likely. The trees had grown thicker, and their movement got even slower as there was no clear path for them to use. Eventually, Bridger pointed to a flat area near a ledge that dropped off at least twenty feet.
Sin: A Survival Romance Fiction (Her Story Trilogy Book 1) Page 8