The woman scrunched up her face.
“Are you taking me to the principal’s office?” she asked sarcastically looking at Charlie.
Liam guffawed and was about to answer when Charlie firmly put his hand on his shoulder.
“Something like that,” Charlie answered smiling. Then he turned to Liam, “Thanks, you can go back to what you were doing now.”
“Oh, I wasn’t really doing anything. I was actually heading out to the court yard when I saw you guys coming to the front , so I-“ he saw Charlie’s stern look. “Oh, yup, got it. I think there was something I was supposed to be doing. Nice meeting you,” he finished to the woman, and then scampered off down the stairs again.
Charlie gave the door a quick knock and then opened it, walking right in, Laila behind him. The woman slowly followed, feeling that Jack was waiting for her to enter. As she walked in she saw it was quite naturally, the spitting image of what you’d expect a principal’s office at a private school to look like. Lots of stained wood, books, leather chairs, even a bathroom. Then she noticed a large room off of it that had a full sized bed and a large wardrobe against the wall. Her living quarters.
“Hello, Charles, what do you have for me today then?” came a warm voice from behind an ornate desk. Then the principal noticed the woman and rose to greet her. “Oh, hello. It’s so nice to have someone new with us,” and she too reached out her hand.
The woman let out a large breath, and reached her hand up again to finish the greeting. The principal was an older woman, probably close to seventy. She looked kind, but held herself tall and with strength; respectable. She saw her glance at the spot on her cheek Liam mention earlier, but didn’t say anything about it.
“Here please, take a seat if you’d like,” and she showcased the room with her hand. “Ok, Charles, so what’s going on?” she said heading back to sit behind her desk.
The woman noticed that Jack had taken a seat on the arm of a large couch right next to the door, Charlie stood next to the desk, and Laila sat down in a large armchair off to the side. She decided she’d keep standing a bit longer, and walked over to one of the book shelves to look at the books.
“We hit a bit of trouble, and she helped us out of it,” he said looking her straight in the eye stoically.
“I can see that,” she said waving a hand over the same spot on her that the woman had the smeared blood. She looked over to see her pull a title from the wall, then slide it back. “I’m sorry, I never got your name. I’m Magda Mallone. Please call me Magda, everyone does.”
The woman turned around, and knew everyone was waiting for her response. None of them had asked her name, or introduced themselves, but she knew all of their names already just from sitting quietly in the car, and listening.
She took a few steps closer to the desk, and stood where the light from the window warmed her face, “I’m Mac. That’s what you can call me, most people do.”
Magda looked at Charlie then back to her, “Well, ok then, Mac, nice to meet you, and thank you for helping my people here.”
“Mm-hm,” she answered as she stared off at a painting that was hanging on the wall. It was a large colorful flower garden with a woman in a long white dress and large brimmed hat sitting within it.
Magda and Charlie looked at each other again. “So Mac, how did you save my people?” and she put her hand up to quiet Charlie who was about to answer.
Mac turned to her then, walking slowly up to the desk. Jack fidgeted a little, not sure if he should stop her or not, but Laila coughed, signaling him to relax. When she got to the desk she slid half way onto it, one foot resting against it, the other dangling down, toe skimming the floor, and looked right at her answering directly.
“I didn’t let them get killed.”
“I figured,” Magda said with a slight smirk and a narrowing of her eyes. “What were they going to get killed by?”
Laila, looked down at the ground, the weight of what would’ve happened to them coming back to her. Charlie took a deep breath and looked out the window. Jack was staring at her intently, not realizing he was breathing fast. The fear he had felt, the dread, was coming back to his chest again.
“Killers,” she said matter of factly. “Do you mind?” she asked pointing to a jar that sat atop the desk with lollipops in it.
Magda shook her head and pushed the jar to her, where she pulled out an orange one, slowly unwrapped it, then shook her head in disbelief before she put it in her mouth.
“There’s a lot of the killing kind out there it seems,” Magda said solemnly.
Mac stuck the candy in her cheek, the stick bobbing up and down as she sucked, “Yes, there are. These were the breathing kind though. The kind that rape, torture, and ultimately murder you.”
“Ok,” she said looking at Charlie, “Those kind of killers.”
Mac got back up and headed back over to the bookshelf, sucking away at the lollipop. Magda looked at Charlie, and then nodded to him. He walked to the front of the desk and sat right on the edge.
“Mac, we’re really grateful for what you did back there. Truly, but I’d like to ask you some questions, so we can learn more about you,” he said every word very carefully, but that only seemed to bring more tension into the room. The fact that she just continued looking through the books without acknowledging him only intensified it more.
“So what did you do before-“ Magda stopped thoughtfully for a moment, “before all this started?”
Mac opened up a book and started flipping through it. “I was a nanny,” she said not looking up from the pages.
Laila looked over at Charlie, her brow a bit furrowed, and he continued, “I never knew nannies, well, had the kind of skill sets you do.”
She pushed the book back into its place and turned right at him. “You asked me a question and I answered it,” she stood staring at him expressionless.
“Alright, thank you,” Magda said trying to break the tension. She had no idea what Charlie was referring to yet so she just tried to continue, “Well, there’s a few children here if you are interested in staying for a while.”
“Are you giving me the option, or are you telling me in a nice way, that I am going to be staying here for a while?” she asked looking back and forth between her and Charlie.
“Ok, Mac, what were you doing there?” Charlie said ignoring her question, and moving on for more information.
“I was there to stop those men from doing what they do. Now Charlie, what were you doing there?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
Laila broke the silence, “We were stupid.” Charlie and Jack looked at her, “We were,” she said to them. “We saw a truck, their truck, and just went in to try and scavenge it. They found us. You know the rest.”
Mac gave a single nod to her, and strolled to the corner of the back wall, still looking through books. “I can tell you guys don’t get out much. It’s a lot different than it was, now, after the first winter,” she took down another book. “Not many people were able to make it through for many reasons. Now after the second, the ones who are left either have a place,” she waved a book around at the room, then put it back on the shelf. “Or have done things that needed to be done to survive.” She let that hang in the air for a while, then finished with, “Those things, of course, are different for everyone, but it usually doesn’t leave too many nice people wandering around.”
“Have you met a lot of those people?” Magda asked quietly.
“I make it a point to,” she answered.
“How many have you killed out there, Mac?” Charlie asked seriously.
“The dead or the breathing?” she asked.
“People, living people.”
She put another book back and turned to him answering immediately, “Eighty-six as of today, but I guess if you want to get technical, a little less since I sometimes let the non-breathing ones lend a hand.”
The four of them stared at her, not sure if she was serious, but when she conti
nued to stand there in silence, they stopped waiting for the punch line.
Magda leaned forward, resting her hands on her desk, “Were these all people like the ones we met today?”
“For the most part, yes.”
Magda sat back in her chair and spun it a bit so she could look out the window, and Mac went back to looking at books. She pulled one down, took a quick look, put it back, then did the same thing with another. All the while sucking on the lollipop. Magda stood up slowly, and started walking back around to the front of her desk.
“Again, thank you, Mac. I don’t know what we would’ve done if we lost these people,” she brought herself over to her. Mac put the last book away and turned to her. “I would like you to stay, at least spend the night. Have a couple meals, get washed up, I’m sure we have some fresh clothes for you if you’d like. And to answer your question,” she paused making sure she was looking her in the eye, “You can go anytime you want, but we would love to have you for as long as you’d like,” and she placed her hand on the back of her left shoulder giving it a squeeze in a gesture of solidarity, but Mac immediately went stiff and let out a small grunt she tried to cover with clearing her throat. Magda took her hand away slowly not sure what to make of it, but Laila filled in the blanks.
“You hurt your shoulder back there, with the truck, didn’t you?” she asked Mac.
“It’s nothing, just a deep bruise I’m sure.”
Seeing the look of concern on Laila’s face, Magda said, “We have a great nurse here, and I’d like you to go get checked out.” Mac began to protest, but Magda firmly cut her off, “I’m sure you’re fine, but it’d make me feel better to know that you weren’t going back out there hurt.”
Mac nodded an okay, and Charlie, Laila, and Jack stood up.
“Jack and Laila, would you take her to see Christina please, then take her to wash up and eat.”
“Sure,” Laila said, and she winked at Charlie knowing he was going to be there for a while. “Come on,” she said to Mac waving her towards the door.
Mac started following her out, stopped at the doorway, and turned back to Magda. “Thanks,” she said taking the lollipop out of her mouth and holding it up, then putting it back in again.
“The infirmary is just downstairs. Christina’s really great. Just let her do her job, and you’ll be out in no time,” Laila told her as the three of them descended the staircase.
The place was eerily quiet, and Mac wondered where everyone had gone. They made a turn towards the back of the stairs, and she saw a large courtyard right in the center of the building. There were a few raised garden beds, and a couple pieced together greenhouses, benches here and there. Then it was gone as they turned down a hallway that, at its end, had the side door that Harrison and Doug came in. They stopped in the middle at an open door and walked in. Sitting on a doctors stool was a pretty woman who looked to be about in her mid-thirties. She was scanning through a few shelves above her, and writing some things down on a legal pad when Laila got her attention.
“Hey Chris.”
“Hey, Laila! You guys are back. Any luck?” she asked absentmindedly as she finished jotting something down, then finally spun around to see Mac. “Well, hello,” she said intrigued.
“This is Mac. She helped us out today,” Laila said, and you can tell Christina understood what that meant.
“Well, ok. What can I do for you?”
“I just bruised my shoulder, it’s really nothing,” Mac answered as she took a look around the room.
“Magda, just wants you to give it a look then she can go have a wash and eat,” Laila threw in. “I’m actually going to go look for some clothes for you,” she said giving her a smile, then headed back out the door, slapping Jack on the back as she left.
“Alright Mac, let’s take a look,” she stood up and walked over to the back of the room where an exam table sat across from a few hospital type cots separated by curtains.
Mac walked over to it, and Christina give the table a little pat telling her to get on. Jack settled in on a chair by the door, placing his backpack at his feet, and leaned back, the bow digging into him. He didn’t feel like taking it off quite yet, and adding to the pile on the floor in front of him.
“Which shoulder is it?” she asked.
“My left,” Mac answered.
“Ok, I’m going to need you to get your shirt off so I can see.”
Mac raised her hand up, and slid the balaclava off her head first, exposing mud covered hair and a long braid that fell down to the middle of her back. She tugged at the sleeve of her good arm with her mouth and pulled, taking it out then over her head, sliding it gently off her left arm. She sat there in a sports bra, at least what was left of one. It was torn and now a grayish brown, a few rust colored stains covered it here and there. Old dried blood, but that’s not what caught Christina’s attention.
“Oh,” she said a bit at a loss, and Jack looked over to see.
Her back and arms were covered in varying stages of bruises. All types of scars scattered about the other parts of her exposed body. Some long Frankenstein like stitched lines, others less severe, and one that was a circle, most likely a bullet wound. Her left shoulder blade was already on its way towards purple, and an outline of the sideview mirror she slammed into had begun to show itself on her skin with a darker shade.
“Can you lift your arm for me?” Christina asked focusing on the new injury, not the old ones.
Mac lifted her hand until it was just over her head, and Jack saw something sticking out from the bottom of her bra along her ribs, but he couldn’t make it out. He didn’t want to keep staring, so he quickly looked away. Christina gently poked and prodded, moving her arm this way and that, occasionally asking if it hurt. When she was done, she walked in front of Mac.
“Well, you’re right, it is just a bruise, but it’s a pretty bad one. Plus, you have slight bruising of your ribs as well. I think you knew that too,” she paused to look her in the face, but Mac just looked back at her. “So, I assume you also know, there’s not much we can do for it. I would recommend you keep your arm in a sling to help keep your shoulder still, maybe ease a bit of pressure from your ribs too, but something tells me you probably won’t use it. So, what I am going to do,” and she turned back to one of the shelves in her cabinet and pulled down a plastic container, “is give you these.” It was extra strength Tylenol. “Take them when you need them,” she turned back to a small sink and filled a tiny plastic cup with water then handed it to her. “Like right now,” and she opened the bottle and poured two in to her hand. Then stood there until Mac took them.
Mac grabbed her shirt and balaclava, and held it in front of her, but didn’t even try to put it back on. Christina walked her back to Jack who’d gathered his pack and was standing at the door.
“Next stop, I believe, is the showers, Ms. Mac,” Christina said, walking out into the hall with them. “It was nice to meet you. If you need anything else, please come and see me,” she nodded at Jack and then headed back into the infirmary.
Jack stood beside her wondering if he should wait for Laila to come back with the clothes or just walk her down. After a good ten seconds of awkwardly standing there together he pushed off towards the staircase that led to the basement, and Mac followed. At the bottom was a wide open room with small windows at the top where they rose above ground level. It was very obvious it was supposed to be a sort of gymnasium, but only about half of it still maintained that illusion. One wall was made up like a rock climbing course up into the ceiling, from which a long knotted rope hung down from as well. Under both, mats were laid out to cushion any falls, a stack of extras piled to the side. A few different types of balls laid on it. The other half was empty save for a basketball net that hung, still looking brand new.
“Over here,” Jack said getting her attention.
He stood outside of a door with a stenciled sign: GIRLS, waiting for her to come over. Mac walked in and saw that for all intents and
purposes, it was a little locker room. A line of half lockers ran parallel with a long bench. There was a bathroom area to one side with mirrors and sinks, a few shower stalls on the other side with a tall closet by the door way. Jack walked over to it and pulled out a towel and a wash cloth, both a pristine white, and handed it to her. He proceeded to head back out the door to wait for her, but Mac called out before he made his exit.
“Hey, Robin Hood,” and he turned back to see her lay her dirty things on the bench, then pull a large knife from her pants and he froze. “I’m going to need you to help me out here,” and she turned her back to him, holding the knife handle over her shoulder for him to grab.
He didn’t know what to make of it, and cautiously took a few steps back towards her and the showers.
She finally turned around and looked at him.
“I wasn’t hiding it, you guys never patted me down or asked,” she held it out to him again, and he took it. “You should probably do that if you keep letting people in like this,” she turned her back to him again. “I just need you to cut the shoulder strap and the back strap on this side so I can get it off.” She turned to him again, “Unless you want to help me pull it over my head,” she said in jest.
Jack gulped then went behind her, gently pulling the elastic strap away from her bruised shoulder, sliding the blade underneath it. He pulled it up, expecting to have to saw it a bit, but the blade was so sharp, it sliced right through like it was nothing. He then moved down to the lower strap that wrapped around her body. It was tight and he was going to have to get his hand underneath it, but was trying to find a spot that would be appropriate to touch.
“Alright, Robin Hood, here is fine,” and she wrapped her right arm around the front of herself, sliding a finger underneath the band as the place to go from.
He cleared his throat, and slid two fingers into the spot next to hers. He pulled it out enough so he could carefully slide the knife in, and cut the fabric away. As it fell to the side, he caught a full glimpse of what he noticed in the infirmary: a tattoo. He looked up at her, and she was looking right at him, her eyes an aqua blue. She knew he saw it. She knew he was going to see it, too. Then she faced forward again and slid the rest of the bra off her right shoulder. He quickly turned away, walking back to the door uncomfortably.
Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone Page 4