“I guess you really are Robin Hood, huh?” she said, still facing away from him.
He stopped and turned just enough so his ear was facing her to hear, but not enough to see her.
“What?” He heard a boot hit the floor, then another, followed by pants.
“I haven’t met many men, maybe not even any yet, who would’ve turned away. Especially now.”
He cleared his throat, and turned his face to fully look away again.
“Most of the ones I come across think it’s owed to them, to be able to look. To gape. To touch,” she let the last part hang there for a bit. “It’s good to know that it’s not all of them.”
He nodded his head to show he understood.
“Are you any good with that bow?” she asked pulling a shower curtain to the side.
“It’s not mine. I just found it out there this morning,” and he let his silence fill in the details for him.
“Well, it’s good to have. Quiet,” then he heard the water turn on.
“I’ve only shot one once before. At Summer Camp. I think I was twelve,” he offered.
“I guess you should shoot a bit more then,” and he heard the curtain close, muffling the water just slightly.
He took her cue and finished walking to the doorway hearing her mumble: “Goddamn! Hot water, too?” in disbelief. It made him smirk, and he stepped just outside of the locker room, sliding down the wall, taking a seat on the floor. Suddenly he was aware of how tired he was. His body and mind quickly caught up to what he had just been through and he held his hand up, watching it shake. He quickly gripped it into a fist and put it onto his lap, closing his eyes tight, trying not to see the talker’s face.
“Jack,” his eyes flicked open. “Were you sleeping?” asked Laila, hands balancing a stack of clothes, and a plastic bag with the school crest dangling from her finger.
He slowly stood back up leaving his backpack at his feet, “No.”
She looked at him thoughtfully, “Ok, you can go back up if you want.”
“No, it’s ok. Looks like you need a hand,” and he took the bag from off her finger, and the top half of the stack.
They both walked back into the locker room, the shower still going, a little bit of steam drifting out from underneath it. Laila placed the clothes on the bench and Jack followed suit. She then took the bag from him, and reached inside to pull out a little bottle of shampoo. Then one of shower gel.
“Hey Mac, this should help,” and she reached the two bottles into the opening between the curtain and the wall. Mac took them from her and scoffed. “And here,” she said reaching back into the bag pulling out a family sized bottle of conditioner. “This is Christina’s. I’ll bring it back up when you’re done,” and she handed that to her too through the plastic curtain.
She headed over to the sink area, and started taking a few more things from the bag. She placed a toothbrush, a little travel sized tube of toothpaste, a half empty bottle of runny lotion, and a cheap plastic comb onto the counter with the sinks. The mirrors had already started fogging up a bit. She headed to the pile Mac had left on the floor.
“I’ll just take your stuff to the wash, if that’s ok,” she said picking the dusty cargo pants up, and made a face at Jack when she felt the weight of them.
Suddenly the water turned off, the towel hanging over the top was snatched away, and the curtain was pulled aside. Mac emerged with a wet camouflage bandana still wrapped around her wrist that she had never taken off before the shower. Her towel was clumsily wrapped around herself, from using one arm. She looked at Laila who was still holding her pants.
“There’s a lot of stuff in there,” she said matter-of-factly, turning back into the stall, she bent down and started collecting things from the drain.
“I figured that out,” Laila said with a smile as she started to reach into some pockets.
First she pulled out a holster with a gun in it from the waist band. The waist band was held up with a piece of old fraying rope. Jack pointed to the knife already laying on the bench, so Laila put the gun down right next to it. Next came a Swiss army knife, a book of matches with three left inside, another collapsable knife, a small flash light that seemed to have run out of batteries, and the brown triangle piece of fabric she had used as a handkerchief to cover the lower half of her face when they had first met her. Jack and Laila looked at each other again, and raised their eyebrows.
Mac walked over to the small garbage under the counter and threw a handful of twigs and leaf pieces in that had come off her, too big to go down the drain. Then she made her way over to them, Jack turning away again. She held up the wash cloth which was now brown, and then handed Laila the large bottle of conditioner.
“Sorry,” she said, and Laila took it from her waving her hand to show it was no problem.
“Here,” Laila nodded her over to the end of the bench that had the fresh, folded clothes.
“Thanks,” Mac said as she started to slide a pair of underwear on under the towel with one hand.
Jack got up, trying to be casual, just wandering away slowly towards the door looking around. Laila watched Jack then looked over at Mac with a smile. She was pulling on a pair of slacks, a bit too big for her. Laila pulled the worn rope out from through the loops of the filthy cargo pants, and handed it to her. Mac managed to thread it through the new pants pretty quickly with one hand, but the knot she tried to tie it with wasn’t very tight. She didn’t seem to care. She then reached for the bra, hooking the back closed before she even put it on, then dropped the towel with her back turned to them. She slid the one strap up her bad arm, the middle over her head, then squirmed her good arm through the other loop, pulling it down over the front of her for a final adjustment.
Laila looked up at her when she turned around, “It seems you’ve done this before,” she said impressed.
Mac gave her a small, quick smile, and then basically did the same thing with the long sleeved brown shirt with a large crest of Benson Academy on the back, and a smaller one on the front. She finished with some socks, much more difficult to do with one hand, but she managed. She reached into one of her boots and pulled out a small ivory gun like something a lady would’ve had out of an old western movie. Then she slipped her feet into the beat up boots. She brought them up to rest on the bench helping her use both hands to tie them. Then she began meticulously taking her things off the bench and putting them back on her.
“Sorry about the clothes. We have plenty of stock from the school’s store, the rest we’ve found, or was left with us. We all have a few Benson Academy shirts,” Laila said jokingly.
“They’re clean, and cover me, so it’s not a problem,” Mac said as she tucked the Swiss Army knife in her front pocket and stood up, completing her restocking.
Jack turned back when he knew she was done dressing, and saw that the top part of her hair from root to chin was a honey blond color that was getting a bit lighter as it dried. From the chin down it was pitch black to the tips that fell to the center of her back. Now that her face was clean he also noticed her chapped, red cheeks, and slightly freckled nose. Laila grabbed her wet towel off the floor and wrapped the soiled wash cloth in it.
“I left some other stuff on the counter. Also from the school store,” she smiled.
Mac walked over to the counter in front of the foggy mirrors that had begun to drip condensation. She immediately grabbed the toothbrush and paste and got to work, wetting it in the sink. She began to brush while she walked around the room.
“When you’re done, we can get some lunch in the cafeteria,” Laila said.
Mac nodded her head, then returned to the sink to spit the foam out. She cupped her hand into the running water and sipped, rinsing her mouth.
“That feels good, doesn’t it?” Laila asked smiling as Mac starting putting her new toiletries back into the plastic bag. “A shower is definitely nice, but finally getting the chance to brush your teeth, that was amazing to me.”
Mac started unraveling a piece of string from around her wrist that had been bunched up next to the handkerchief she left tied around her wrist in the shower. She draped it around the back of her neck. With her good hand she wrapped it around her hair a few times. She pulled the low ponytail to the front of her, putting one end of the string in her mouth then used her right hand to tie it off.
“Here, I can wipe the mirror off if you want,” Laila said taking the mound of damp towels from her hands, but Mac had already started to walk to the door.
“No, I’m done. Food?”
“Ok,” Laila said with a weak smile. “Follow me.”
They started to cross the gym to the other side, where a set of double doors stood in the back corner by the steps. Jack noticed her jaw was clenched and every few steps she took had her fighting off a wince. He’d bruised one of his ribs before when he fell while rock climbing. It was excruciating. He couldn’t imagine what a few of them felt like, plus her shoulder. The impressive part was that if he hadn’t seen her injuries, he wouldn’t have even really noticed she was in pain. She even held her left arm in a way that kept the illusion. They pushed through the doors to reveal a make-shift cafeteria.
Though there was a large refrigerator, commercial range and oven, even what appeared to be a walk in freezer, the rest didn’t seem to fit as well. There were four wooden picnic tables in various colors, painted over in an attempt to keep the splinters at bay, set up two by two. The open kitchen set up was now used more like a buffet, a pitcher of water sat atop it next to a stack of thick, clear plastic cups, and at the end, a microwave was sitting a bit precariously. It’s cord pulled tight around the wall back into the cooking area. Not a damn part of it made much sense to Mac, but she just followed Laila to the counter.
“This was meant to be more like a storage and prep area for the school, but as we realized things wouldn’t be going back, it was easier to turn this into a space more for the adults to unwind. The kids pretty much eat up on the second floor. That’s where the cafeteria was originally. There’s a small kitchen, more like a house’s there, and it’s a bit-“ she looked up, “friendlier. For the kids. Stuff gets brought up now and then when they need it. Honestly, we use the microwaves the most down here. Which brings us to lunch.” She walked into the large cooking area and opened what turned out to be a dry storage closet as Mac stayed looking over the counter.
Laila pulled out a small, plastic covered bowl in blue and orange, and a large cylinder she recognized, “Microwaveable Mac and Cheese, or some plain oatmeal?”
Mac shook her head pleased and didn’t hesitate in answering, “Mac and Cheese.”
Laila smiled, and pulled the thin sheet of plastic half off the top. She headed over to the sink and filled the bowl with water up to the designated line. Then she opened the microwave door, set it in, and beeped in the allotted time making the machine start to whir.
“We have solar,” Laila mentioned as they waited for the seconds to count down. “Originally, they were only meant to run a few things off of it, more like a little bonus. But the regular electricity only lasted about three months after this began I’m told. That’s when Liam, the English guy from before,” she clarified with a slight smirk, “He started utilizing it more, and found a lot of extra panels that weren’t set up on the fourth floor. He’s our resident tech guy.”
“You have much need for tech here?” Mac asked curiously.
“No,” she answered flatly. “At least not like he was meant for.” The microwaved beeped its completion.
Laila opened the door to pull out the food, then reached into a drawer by the sink, yanking out a spoon from a tangled mass of silverware, and slid it over to her. She made her way back through the swinging door, and pointed Mac over to the closest table where Jack was already sitting. She walked around to the front of the counter now and poured three glasses of water. Laila carried them over with the skill of a waitress, and set them down.
“The school hadn’t even opened for their first year yet; there were still a few kinks. They were a couple days away front the first day of school and some kids were showing up to be dropped off, get their rooms ready, orientation, but the buildings network kept going down. So, Liam was working on that when it all happened, and the rest is history. We’re obviously not using the inter-office email or anything, but he comes in really handy with stuff like the solar panels, or fixing the kids gaming consoles.”
Jack let out a bit of a laugh while he downed his water, getting up to make himself something from the kitchen. Mac raised her eyebrows as she spooned in a mass of noodle tubes, then another, and in about three more, it was gone. Laila took it from her and walked back to the sink. She rinsed out the plastic container, then threw it into a crate that sat on the floor filled with other plastic things. Jack stood at the counter waiting on the microwave to signal his meal, and they ended up sitting down together.
“Liam is smart, though. He had never worked on anything like that before,” she said pointing to the ceiling, which Mac took as a motion to the roof of the building where the panels likely sat. “He read through some manuals and we actually have a lot of books here too that were helpful, and he figured it out.”
Mac nodded her head in understanding as she drained her glass of water. She then looked over to see Jack had a bowl of steaming oatmeal, and he was breaking up some of the dehydrated apple from the napkin he had before. She didn’t notice him take it from the car.
“Are you still hungry?” Laila asked kindly.
Jack didn’t look up as he dug a spoon into his mix, but slid his napkin to her, offering the few remaining apple rings, and a slice of bread. She hesitated, but Laila urged her on.
“We have so many dried apples,” she said exasperated. “I’m grateful for them, but they’ve kind of lost their appeal to us at this point.” She pulled herself up just enough to reach the cloth, and drag it right in front of Mac.
“Thanks,” she said, and started in on one.
“We have three trees on the other end of the property so we harvest them all late Summer and fall. Then we eat them fresh, bake them, can applesauce, dry them,” she sighed.
“Do you make vinegar from them?” Mac asked as she tore off a piece of bread with her teeth.
“Um, no, actually. We don’t,” Laila answered.
“It’s really easy,” Mac said stuffing the rest of the slice of bread into her mouth. “And it’s good for a lot of things.”
“Maybe you could show us sometime, or tell us how if you’re not going to be here when the apples come this season.”
“Ok,” she said as she started on her second ring of wrinkly apple.
A few more people walked into the room, none of which Mac had met yet. All of them slowed, or stopped in their tracks when they saw her. Jack looked up from his oatmeal, took a deep breath, looked at Laila, and went back to his food.
“This is Mac,” she said mainly looking at the large muscular man that had walked in first, who was now filling up a glass with water at the counter.
They each did a quick once over of Mac while she just kept at those apples. The three of them went to the table next to theirs, placed their packs on the top, and the woman in the group, all five foot two of her, walked over.
“I’m Cara, Mac,” she said with a nod, then proceeded into the kitchen area through the door.
The last member of the group sat down resting the elbows of his long, skinny arms on the table top, then put his head in his hands in a gesture of tiredness. The muscular man walked back and sat noisily at the table slamming a glass of water in front of the skinny guy, who slowly turned his head to it.
“Mac!” the muscular man said loudly like he was testing it out. “Doesn’t exactly fit you well, with a face like that,” he said, implying her attractiveness shamelessly, and giving her a big over done smile.
Cara made her way back over with a pile of dried apples and a slice of bread, and sat down next to the skinny guy.
�
�Well, if names were supposed to describe their owners, yours would be ‘asshole’, wouldn’t it?” she said putting a piece of bread in her mouth and raising her eyebrows at him.
The skinny guy laughed next to her.
“We do call him that most of the time, so he might be on to something,” Laila said looking him straight in the face. Jack chuckled a bit from his bowl of oatmeal.
“Bitch meeting this afternoon, huh?” he said trying to play it off, and looked at Mac again. “I’m Jose, but you can call me Joe,” he said cooly.
Mac wiped some crumbs off her hands, and turned to give him her attention. “Joe, huh? Asshole, definitely seems to fit you better,” and she turned right back to the remains of her food.
“Oh, ok. So I see the ladies got to you already then, or is it just that you’re into ladies?” he asked looking around like someone was going to pat him on the back for his joke.
The skinny guy raised his head up off the table, and grabbed his glass, raising it to Mac. “I’m Nate,” he took a sip. Mac looked over at him, and gave him a nod in return to his introduction.
“Private. We call him Private,” Joe threw in there, grinning at Nate.
“No, only you call him Private,” Cara said, side eying him.
“Well, he’s a Private,” he turned back to Mac who was still looking intently at the crumbs in front of her from her finished meal. “In the Army. They threw kids like that on the ground when this shit happened. No wonder it wasn’t stopped. Should’ve brought in my people,” he said cooly as he slowly slid off his jacket, conspicuously flexing his arm to bring her attention to a large tattoo of a Marine Bulldog. “See, we could’ve cleaned this up real quick. Oohrah!”
Evangeline, Alone. (Book 1): Evangeline, Alone Page 5