The Blood Will Dry

by Mary, Kate L.

  “Which way?” I yelled over the downpour.

  Bryan nodded to the left, in the opposite direction we’d come from. “Maybe if we stay close to the wall we’ll get a little cover from overhangs like the one we were under before.”

  “Maybe,” I replied, but with the way the wind was blowing, I had serious doubts about that.

  I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what was about to come. It didn’t help. I stepped out and the rain pelted me in the face, and I ended up inhaling about a cup of water. Maybe more.

  Bryan held my hand as we moved down the sidewalk, sloshing through water that was now up past my ankles. I felt like it was coming at me from all sides, splashing up from the puddles as we hurried down the street and coming down on my head in sheets while getting blown at my sides by the wind. It was like swimming more than running, but we eventually made it to the end of the street where Bryan stopped. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but he must have seen something that looked promising, because he let go of my hand for a few seconds.

  When he did, a wave of panic swept over me that was even more powerful than the wind. With the water coming at me from all sides and visibility so low, I suddenly felt totally alone. Like I was on a ship that had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, leaving me to tread water while waves that towered over me slammed down on my head in a desperate attempt to push me to the bottom with the boat. It was the most terrifying feeling I’d ever experienced, and in that moment I could only think two things. One, I was glad Bryan was with me, and two, I hoped to God that Daisy was okay.

  Bryan was back in seconds, and he grabbed my hand and pulled me forward. I couldn’t see much of anything, but I could tell that wherever he was going it was a tight squeeze. He was through in seconds though, and then it was my turn. I followed, squeezing through an opening that was barely big enough for me to fit through.

  Once I’d passed that obstacle I followed Bryan through an open and waiting doorway. The rain came inside with us, pounding into the backs of my legs until we’d made it deeper into the building. It was dark, darker than the outside had been, and it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust enough to make out some of my surroundings. When they did I found that we were in a narrow hall with a staircase in front of us that seemed to stretch up into even more blackness.

  Pulling me with him, Bryan started climbing the stairs. They creaked under our weight as if protesting being used after all these years, but they didn’t feel the least bit unsafe. They were solid under my feet, as if they were the only things holding the building up, but I still hugged the wall. Mainly because I needed to feel it beside me to stay grounded.

  We reached the top of the stairs and Bryan paused. The only sound was the rain beating against the outside of the building and the thump of my heart pounding in my eardrums.

  “Where are we?” I whispered, afraid to make too much noise in the quiet of an unknown building. It was too dark, too silent, and too many things had gone wrong over the last couple weeks. I didn’t like the uncertainty that my life had suddenly been thrown into.

  “Apartments.”

  Bryan moved forward slowly, holding my hand. Through the shadowy darkness I could make out his profile and the outline of the gun in his hand. The gun in my own hand was trembling so much that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to shoot anything, even at close range, but I refused to put it away.

  We stopped next to a door and Bryan kicked it with the toe of his boot. I held my breath, straining my ears to hear over the sound of the rain. There was nothing to indicate that anyone was inside, though.

  “I think we’re good.”

  He dropped my hand and tried the knob. When it didn’t turn he tucked his gun into its holster and took a step back. Then he ran forward, slamming his shoulder into the door. It burst open in a torrent of splintered wood and he stumbled inside. I followed, grinning despite the tense situation and my shivering body.

  “I’ve actually never seen anyone do that who wasn’t in a movie.”

  Bryan rubbed his shoulder and through the darkness I saw his white teeth flash my way. “Did you find it sexy?”

  “I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life.” My voice shook enough to give away the fact that I was laughing even though I knew he couldn’t see it.

  He chuckled as he moved deeper into the black apartment. “I can’t believe this place is still locked up after five years.”

  “I thought we’d raided every single building in the city.” Even in the minimal light, I could tell this one had somehow gotten missed. “How did we not find this place?”

  “The doorway was wedged between a couple businesses and covered by something, I couldn’t tell what it was in the rain. Maybe it just didn’t look like much to anyone passing by.”

  “Maybe.”

  The sound of drawers opening cut through the darkness and I followed it, finding Bryan in what appeared to be the kitchen.

  “See if you can find any candles or lighters, or even a flashlight,” he said, pulling another drawer open.

  “Good idea,” I said, setting the Kevlar vest on the counter so I could free up my hands.

  It had been years since we’d had the luxury of real candles and flashlights—we usually made do with oils and fat from animals these days—but in an apartment that hadn’t yet been raided, it was entirely possible that we’d find some.

  I pulled open a drawer at what seemed like the end of the counter. It was where I’d once had my own junk drawer, back in the tiny apartment Michael and I had shared, so I figured it was worth a shot. I doubted very much that Bryan’s family knew what a junk drawer was. They weren’t the type of people who had junk, and stuff like this had probably been left up to the help to organize.

  I ran my fingers over the contents of the now open drawer, and just like I’d thought found myself touching pens and pencils and a pad of sticky notes. Behind those I found an assortment of screwdrivers, but that was it. No matches or flashlights.

  I shut that drawer and opened the one beneath it, and this time I was rewarded when my fingers closed over a box of matches. I pulled one out and struck it against the side. The spark broke through the darkness, but the flame didn’t catch. Hopefully, this new, humid atmosphere hadn’t ruined the matches. I struck it a second time and a flame burst through the black room. It was small, but after the darkness it seemed bright. Of course, I knew it wouldn’t last long.

  “Quick,” I said as I scanned the counters. “Look for a candle.”

  Bryan and I searched the room as the flame moved down the match, getting closer and closer to burning the tips of my fingers, but the counters were empty of candles. I wracked my brain, trying to remember where I had kept candles in my own apartment as heat licked at my fingers. It had been so long ago that it took a moment to conjure up the memory.

  The bedroom. I remembered going to the Dollar Tree and buying a dozen candles the morning of Michael’s birthday, then spreading them out all over our secondhand bedroom furniture. That night when he’d come home from class, exhausted and ready for bed, they’d been lit. The soft glow of the candlelight had seemed romantic and intimate at the time, although now it just seemed like a luxury.

  The flame touched the tip of my finger and I hissed in pain as I shook it out. I pulled another match from the box and moved away from the kitchen, still thinking of where people left candles. Dining room tables and fireplace mantles, neither of which this tiny apartment was likely to have. Bathrooms had been another popular place, and it seemed even more likely than the bedroom.

  I had the second match lit before I’d made it halfway through the living room. The flame illuminated the corners, giving me a chance to see the place. It was small but tidy, except for the thick layer of dust that had long ago settled over everything. There were pictures on the walls of a smiling couple, their faces pressed together in one image, them standing side by side in front of a snowy mountain in another. I headed down the hall, trying not to think about the people who
had lived here or where they might be now.

  The match had nearly reached the end of the line by the time I made it down the hall, so I pulled a new one out and touched the tip to the flame. When it flared through the darkness I shook the old one out. I could smell the stench from the bathroom from here. Old sewage that had collected in toilets that no longer worked. It was worse than a port-o-potty, more foul than a bathroom at a campground or park. But it was also par for the course these days.

  I held my breath as I pushed the door open. The flame danced across the small room, and right away I spotted what I’d been looking for. Sitting on a shelf behind the toilet was a Glade candle in a tiny glass jar. I scooped it up and held the match to the wick. It caught, and within seconds the artificial scent of apple cinnamon was just detectable over the stink of sewage.

  I carried the candle back out into the other room, the flame creating a soft ball of light around me. Bryan looked up from his place in the kitchen and smiled, and my breath caught in my throat. In this light he looked even more beautiful than he had back in the settlement. The way the shadows played across his face made him look masculine and strong, and it had nothing—well, almost nothing—to do with his broad shoulders or muscled forearms.

  “You found one.”

  I nodded as I set the glass jar on the small bar separating the kitchen from the living room. “Just one.”

  We stared at each other in silence for a moment before a wave of shivers shook my body. I wrapped my arms around my chest and hugged myself, but I knew it wouldn’t work. I was soaked and freezing.

  But we were in an apartment where there was a bed that would be warm despite the dust, and a dresser and closet full of clothes. It was almost more than we could ask for these days, and I was grateful not just for the comfort of this space, but for the opportunity to have more time with Bryan.

  “Want to find something dry to wear?” I asked him.

  His smile grew wider. “Absolutely.”

  At least twenty-four hours had gone by since the rain started. It hadn’t stopped, but at least it had let up enough that we were able to see out the window in the living room. It was the only one that wasn’t obstructed by vines and, lucky for us, just happened to overlook the street. So far, things had been quiet.

  “How long before you want to try and get back?” I asked Bryan as we stood side by side at the window.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  He was dressed in a pair of red and black flannel pajama pants and a black t-shirt that fit snug against his body. It was too small, but I wasn’t complaining. Especially not with the lights flickering throughout the room, highlighting the way his muscles flexed with each move. We’d managed to scrounge up a couple more candles, and on top of that I’d fashioned a homemade one out of Crisco and a strip of cotton ripped off a white t-shirt. Over the last five years I’d become an expert at what would and wouldn’t burn and how long I could count on it.

  I tugged at my own ill-fitting clothes. The woman who’d lived here had been a hell of a lot smaller than me and everything she’d owned was a petite, meaning all the pants were too short and too tight. My current attire consisted of a pair of yoga pants that I preferred to think of as capris, not floods, and a t-shirt that was pulled tight across my chest and barely covered my mid-drift. I was more than ready to get back into my own clothes, but the moisture in the air hadn’t allowed them to dry quite yet.

  “I need to find Daisy,” I said, pulling at the hem of my shirt again. It was useless. It didn’t cover my stomach no matter how hard I pulled. I should have put on one of the men’s shirts instead of this thing.

  Bryan turned and his gaze swept over me, and I instantly changed my mind.

  I’d struggled to lose my baby weight after Cassidy was born, but five years of living on rations and working hard had slimmed me down and firmed everything until I barely recognized my body when I looked at myself naked. Bryan’s gaze was appreciative as he took me in, hugging the curve of my waist and moving down over my flat stomach and firm thighs. He reached out and grabbed me, pulling me close, and I stared up into his eyes as his gaze searched mine. We’d only had sex the one time, but since then it felt like we hadn’t been able to get enough of one another. It seemed like he was constantly touching me, letting his fingers graze my back as we talked, kissing the side of my head when he walked by, putting his hand on my knee when we sat side by side. It hadn’t seemed like a good idea to roll around naked in bed earlier, despite the improvement in our location, but now I found that I couldn’t stop thinking about a repeat performance. Couldn’t stop imagining him laying me out on the bed and kissing every inch of my body.

  “It’s been quiet,” I whispered.

  Bryan nodded as his fingers flexed on my hips. “We should get some rest.”

  Neither one of us was thinking about sleep, but I nodded anyway and allowed him to lead me down the hall. I swept a candle up as we went by, leaving the others burning even though I knew it was both dangerous and a waste. I couldn’t be bothered with stopping now, and neither could he it seemed. He barely took his eyes off me as we walked, didn’t look away when we finally reached the room and I set the candle down. I pulled the comforter off the bed and tossed it aside, knowing that it would be covered in dust and not wanting to ruin this moment. Bryan already had the hem of my shirt and was pulling it up before I’d even turned back. He yanked it over my head and tossed it aside, and the second my breasts were free his hands were on them while his mouth moved over mine.

  That very first kiss told me that this time around he wanted to take it slow. Not that I was complaining. He kissed me as his hands cupped my breasts, his fingers moving over my nipples until they hardened and a throb started between my thighs. I grabbed the waistband of his pants and moved backwards, pulling him with me without breaking away from the kiss. My fingers dipped past the elastic and I felt his body quiver under my touch. His tongue parted my lips. My hand slid lower. His own hands moved down my sides to my ass. My fingers wrapped around him.

  He groaned against my lips and kissed me harder as I stroked him. We were still standing, but I felt like I couldn’t be bothered to move at the moment. Instead I concentrated on him, on drawing more groans from him, on touching him in all the right places. My hand had a mind of its own, moving faster and then slowing down when the tempo of his breathing changed. I wanted to drive him wild, but I also wanted this moment to last.

  When he wrapped his hand around my wrist I stopped. His lips moved over my neck to my chest while his hands gripped my pants and pulled them down. His mouth followed, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of me. When he pushed me gently I dropped to the bed on my back and he yanked my pants off the rest of the way and tossed them aside. Then he was kissing his way up my thigh, moving my leg to the side so I was open to him. My body throbbed with desire that only grew more intense the higher he got. He ran his tongue along the inside of my thigh, so close that I could feel his hot breath on me. I whimpered and reached for him, my hands gripping the back of his head as I tried to pull him closer. He resisted though, smiling up at me as he continued to kiss and tease, coming close to the mark but not quite getting there. My body throbbed and I squirmed. The anticipation was so extreme that when his tongue finally reached the target, my entire body jerked.

  He dove in, kissing and caressing every inch of me as my body once again climbed that mountain. My back arched off the bed and I brought my hips up to meet his mouth. The sounds coming out of me were more animal than human, but I couldn’t care, not when I had almost reached that peak, not when everything he did felt so damn good that I wanted to scream.

  And then I did and my body convulsed as tremors squeezed my insides and pleasure shot through me. My fingers threaded through Bryan’s hair and I found myself pulling him closer, wanting more, needing more.

  I was still trying to catch my breath when he pulled away and began kissing a trail up my body. He pushed his own pants down as he
went, and when they had pooled around his ankles he kicked them aside. He closed his lips over my nipple and drew it into his mouth, and another mini tremor shook my body. My back arched, a gasp broke out of me. I pulled him closer, further up the bed until his mouth was on mine. His body, hard and firm and hot, settled between my legs, and then he was sliding into me. Slow and steady, his lips dancing across mine as he did. Unlike yesterday, he drew out his strokes, teasing me with every inch in the process. The rhythm he found was torturously slow, and no matter what I did I couldn’t get him to move faster. I moved my hips up to meet his, wrapped my legs around his waist, dug my nails into his back, and begged, but he refused to be rushed, refused to do anything but tease me until I drew closer and closer to another mind-blowing orgasm.

  I cried out when it hit and Bryan finally picked up the pace, but it only served to make the earthquake moving through me grow in intensity. Faster and faster he moved as the world spun around me, the sensations a mixture of pleasure and longing and fulfillment, of feeling whole and new and something close to happiness for the first time in years. My hands gripped his back as I tried to pull him closer, deeper into me. I didn’t want this feeling to end, didn’t want him to disappear the way Michael had. Didn’t want to once again feel the raw loneliness that the real world had to offer.

  He grunted his own release and then stilled on top of me. His skin was slick with sweat against mine, and his heart thumped out a beat that seemed to vibrate through me. Even more, it seemed to call out and tell me that he was as happy to be here in my arms as I was to be in his.

  He rolled off me and settled onto his back at my side, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. His chest rose and fell with each breath, and I watched it happen, pretending that I could see his heart thumping as well. When his breathing had eased, he reached for me, pulling me over until my head was resting against his damp chest. The sprinkling of blond hair tickled my face, and I found myself smiling as I realized that he was the first man I’d ever been with. Michael and I had been young, still just kids, and we’d still been discovering ourselves when we got together. The sex had been good, but still awkward at times, which was only to be expected from two people who had little knowledge of what they truly wanted from each other.