The Awakened (33 page)

The only light coming into the small kitchen was the dim glow of the moon. There was a switch to the overhead light, but I couldn’t bring myself to stand up to turn I ton. I drank my water slowly, ignoring the grumbling of my stomach as I waited. I stared at the tile on the floor, trying to make pictures out of the random gray swirls.

My mind drifted as I thought about Ash, and all the times that I had spent with him in the past nine months or so: dancing with him at the concert, ordering Chinese food in and watching Buffy, trekking through the woods, kissing him on my mother’s kitchen counter.

I jumped at the sudden sound of soft footsteps. I looked up just in time to see Bert enter the room. He flipped the switch, throwing the both of us into brightness. I flinched, lifting my hand to block the light. I stood up. “Is he okay? Is he…”

He sighed, crossing the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of water. “He’s going to be okay.”

I felt the surge of relief flow through me like an electrical current. I was paralyzed by it, unable to think of anything else. He was okay. Ash was okay. I needed to see him. I put one foot in front of the other, like learning to walk for the first time.

“He needs rest,” came Bert’s deep, resonating voice. I had never met anyone with a voice like that, so deep that it almost didn’t seem real. “Let him be.”

“I want to see him,” I said firmly, stopped in my tracks.

“He needs rest,” he repeated. “He’s asleep, and he needs to be alone. Give him that. Please, I ask only this of you.”

I turned around, away from the hallway, to face him. “I have no idea who are you or where you came from. You’re asking me only this, but why would I believe you? You just saved us, but why?”

He sighed again, sliding into a chair. He looked tired, worn out. The wrinkles that I had noticed earlier stood out even more, and he winced, stretching out his left leg gingerly. “Sit down.”

I wavered, and then sat down in the seat across from him. “So?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have an attitude?” he asked me. He spoke slowly, choosing every word with care.

“This wouldn’t be the first time,” I admitted. “But I’ve been yanked all around this country, told a million different things, shot a gun way more than I have ever wanted to, just escaped from a high security compound and watched the boy I love get shot in the ribs so yeah…a bit of attitude is kind of necessary at this point.”

Bert studied me for a moment, his eyes fixated on me. “I think that your friend…”

“Ash,” I interrupted.

“Ash, then,” he said, smoothly. “I think Ash would like to hear this too.”

I opened my mouth and then closed it. “You’re probably right about that. But I can’t just stay here, not knowing anything about you. I’m kind of rattled already.”

“I do not deny that,” he said. “It’s not often that someone tries to break out of Sekhmet. Most go willingly.”

“You know of Sekhmet. How is that possible?” I asked, my hands folded on the table in front of me.

“That is a story for later. What you need to know is this: I worked for a place, a safe house, for many years. Some people have heard it called Sanctuary. We have been aware of Sekhmet for years.” He paused and took a deep breath, looking a little overwhelmed by the words. “I’ve been going out on drives often, even since the Awakened struck and they released the bombs, looking for those are searching for Sanctuary. What I ran into today…I hadn’t expected. But I was prepared.”

Words failed me. It was the barest of explanations, but I knew that this was the most I was going to get out of him until Ash was well enough to hear the story as well. I was left with a thousand more questions than I’d had five minutes ago. My head was going to explode at any moment, and I felt a slight throb right above my right eye.

“It’s late. You need rest too.” He stood up, taking his glass and my glass and carrying them to the sink. He rinsed them, placing them in the drying rack and started heading down the hallway. I stood up, assuming that he wanted me to follow him and found myself in one of the small rooms. There was a twin bed and a chest of drawers. “There are clothes in the dresser that should be fairly close to your size.”

He stepped aside, letting me pass into the room. I slid a drawer open and found a few worn pairs of sweatpants. I lifted one and felt the soft fabric under my fingertips. I couldn’t wait to get out of this scratch khaki pants and this stupid tunic. “Thank you,” I said simply.

Bert nodded. “There is a bathroom down the hall, if you’d like to shower. And my room is just across from it. If you need anything…”

“I will come and find you. Got it.” I nodded. After the day I’d had, I was ready for a shower, to crawl into bed and just be alone with myself for a little bit. I waited for a few moments, as he hovered in the doorway and then made his exit. I sighed and braced myself against the dresser. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since I had left Sekhmet, left Liam behind, heard Tommy get shot and watched as Ash had bled all over me. I looked down and saw the blood all over my shirt and grimaced.

The bathroom was small but efficient. I turned the knob on the shower and was pleasantly surprised when the water was fairly warm. I stripped off the dirty clothes and shoved them into the tiny trashcan that was behind the toilet. I let the warm water run all over me, letting it wash away all the blood that had covered my body. I nearly cried when I spotted shampoo and body wash. There was even a razor sitting on the side of the tub. There was a soft layer of hair on my legs. I reached for the razor, ready to have some sort of semblance of normalcy back in my life.

I made my way back to the room, feeling refreshed and clean. I paused at the door to the room where Ash was. My hand reached for the doorknob, and it turned with ease under my palm.

“Not yet, Miss Zoey.”

I jumped, startled at the voice in the darkness of the hallway. “Jesus, Bert, creep much?”

“I know you want to see him,” he said, standing in the doorway of his room. “But not yet, I will let you know.”

I swallowed hard, nodding and turning away from the door. I flipped the light switch in my new room and crawled into bed, pulling the blanket up and over my head. I felt all that happened in the last few hours, and the tears came flowing down my cheeks and soaking the pillow beneath me. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore and fell into a restless sleep.

THREE DAYS PASSED BEFORE BERT
let me see Ash.

I spent those days in relative quiet. Bert was a man of very few words, and most attempts at real conversations ended up in silence. He sat on the couch often, reading books or solving a crossword puzzle.

I tried many times to sneak over to Ash’s room. He was in a room connected to the second bathroom, so there was literally no reason for him to come out. Bert went in, disappeared in there for hours. He went in with food and came out with empty trays. Every time I tried to sneak in, Bert appeared out of nowhere, reminding me that he wasn’t ready, that seeing me would overexcite him.

I spent most of my time outside. Bert informed me that we were in Colorado on the outskirts of Mesa Verde, and it was beautiful. There was forest everywhere. Everything was so green. Bert had said it was due to the recent rains that I had missed during my time underground. There were a few books in the house, and I lost myself in a beat up copy of
The Sound and the Fury,
sitting in the bed of Bert’s truck.

I kept thinking of everything that had happened since I had left New York. It felt like that life was a dream. I barely remembered wearing my St. Joseph’s uniform, or even my cheerleading uniform. My memories of planning school dances, going on walks with Bandit, eating hot dogs with my dad at baseball games and hanging out with Madison were all a blur. It felt like a lifetime ago, and I was afraid of losing them.

I missed them all. I missed them so much; it physically hurt. My dreams weren’t nightmares anymore, but they still left me sad and breathless. While I was busy worrying about Ash in the next room, I kept forgetting that there were people that weren’t here anymore. I kept thinking of all the people we had lost and how I had almost lost him too. I couldn’t take it anymore. I couldn’t take any more loss than I already had. I had lost my parents, my best friend, my dog. Everything and everyone I knew was gone. All that was left was Sekhmet and the Awakened.

The memory of Razi Cylon filled my every thought. She was gone, shot in the throat, left to die on the warm concrete of the Colorado highway. But every memory of that place was embedded in my mind, in my very soul. She had taken every bit of self-respect I’d had and thrown it away. I’d been poked and prodded and inspected like a sample under a microscope. I was watched constantly, and I often woke up breathless, afraid that she was still here, waiting for me.

Bert was quiet and patient. I would hear him walk by the door of my room during the night and pause by my door. I wasn’t sure what he was listening for, but it felt good to know that he was there and that I wasn’t alone.

On the third day at Bert’s house, I woke up later than normal, the sun streaming through the blinds and casting shadows over the bed. I yawned, and dragged myself out of bed, wondering if I could just stay in this house forever. In the shower, I spent way too much time washing my hair and making sure my legs were silky smooth again.

Bert was already sitting at the kitchen table with a jug of orange juice and a couple empty glasses. “Stove,” he said, as I came in. I rolled my eyes and walked over, pleased to see that there was a pan of eggs and another pan of potatoes sitting there. My stomach gurgled happily, and I piled some on a plate. I slid into a seat across from him and poured myself a glass. I had barely lifted my fork to my mouth when he spoke.

“He’s doing well. He’s weak, but he’s doing well. He’s very strong,” Bert said, not looking up from his book. “But you can see him.”

“What?” I said, disbelieving. “I can see him?” He nodded, and I started to stand up.

“After breakfast, Zoey,” he sighed, and I sat back down.

I scarfed down my breakfast, shoving the food in my mouth and practically choking on the orange juice as I gulped it down. I took my plate, fork and glass to the sink and rinsed them quickly before turning back to him. I smiled wide. “Can I see him now?”

“Yes. You can see him now.”

My smile grew wider, more genuine, and I practically sprinted down the hallway to his room. I paused right before the door. I took two deep breaths and reached for the doorknob.

I opened the door slowly, the doorknob squeaking as I turned it. I peeked around the door and found Ash sitting up in bed, a book in his lap. He was wearing a clean white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, his bare feet out in front of him. His hair was damp. I could see the bandage through his shirt, and I felt a wave of sorrow sweep through me. I backed up, going to close the door, when it screeched loudly. I winced at the sound.

Ash’s eyes lifted and met mine, and a wide smile spread across his face. It was so different though; there was shyness to it that hadn’t been there before. “Hey,” he said, softly, closing the book and putting it to the side.

“Hi,” I whispered back. “I just wanted to check to see if you were okay. I’ll let you rest.”

He shook his head. “No, come in, please. It’s only been Bert in here for days, and the guy isn’t much for company.”

I thought of the many silent hours spent in Bert’s company and laughed. I pushed the door the rest of the way open and closed it quietly behind me. I dragged the desk chair across the floor and sat in it, next to Ash. He looked mildly disappointed but kept his comments to himself.

“Are you okay?” I asked, reaching for him but then pulling my hand back. I folded my hands together and held them in my lap.

“I’m fine,” he assured me, “fit as a fiddle, whatever that means.”

“I’ve been…” I swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the sudden emotions that were flooding in. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

He reached for my hand and pulled it close to him, placing it on his chest. “Zoey Valentine, worrying about me? The world must be coming to an end.”

“Don’t joke,” I said, my voice dipping in a barely held back sob. “I thought you were going to die. You were shot, and there was so much blood, and I thought you were going to die.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, his voice gentle. His grip on my hand tightened, and I looked up into his pale blue eyes, full of something I was almost afraid to identify. “I’m okay. I’m going to be okay. Look at me, Z.”

I looked up at him, trying as hard as I could to control the tears that had been threatening to spill for days. My lip quivered as I attempted a smile.

“I was scared for
you,”
he said, slowly. “I promised your dad, and I promised your mom that I would protect you. When I was shot, the only thing running through my mind was that you would be alone and there would be no one left to protect you. I didn’t care about me.”

I ran the back of my hand across my eyes, taking my tears with me. “You shouldn’t…you should never think that way. You are important. You matter to me.”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, my hand rising against his chest. “Can you please come here? You’re so far away.”

The bed was fairly large, with enough room for the two of us to lie together, if we didn’t mind being close. I wanted to be close to him, to touch him and make sure that he was real. Not being able to see him the last few days was torture. I hesitated, and then climbed up into bed with him. The roughness of his jeans grazed my bare legs and I was grateful for my brief moment of vanity in the shower.

We stayed quiet for a moment, and I stared at the ceiling, ready to count the squares, if that’s what it came down to. There was a heat spreading through me, and we were still a few inches apart. Ash sighed and then,                 in one quick movement, pulled me toward him, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist.

I squeaked at the sudden closeness, my cheek pressed against his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re still healing.”

He chuckled a little, and the sound vibrated through his chest and my face. “You can’t hurt me. The only way you can hurt me is if you leave me alone with Bert again for three more days.”

I laughed. “Come on. Bert isn’t that bad.”

He squeezed his arms tighter around me, and I found myself wrapping an arm around his waist, ready for snuggling. “No, no, he’s not. He took us in. He saved your life.”

“And yours,” I pointed out, my fingertips pressed lightly to the bandage on his ribs.

He shrugged. “You were more important. And you saved my life. You saved me from Razi and her psycho doctor clones. You were fearless. You could’ve left without me, but you didn’t.”

“I wouldn’t ever leave you behind,” I said sharply. “Don’t even say that.”

He pulled back a little, his eyes finding mine. My eyes took in his gaze, hungrily. I would never get tired of looking at him. If it was he and I together, for the rest of our lives, against the world, I would be okay. I would be more than okay. “Well, we’re together, and that’s all that matters.”

I hesitated, wondering if it was the right moment to tell Ash about Sanctuary. I decided it could wait. He felt safe right now, and I didn’t want to ruin it for him, not yet. I didn’t want to tell him that we would have to make yet another journey. “Yeah, Ash, that’s all that matters.”

He raised a bandaged hand to my face, and lifted my chin so that our faces were even closer than before. “Are you okay, though, Z? I mean, sorry, Zoey.”

I felt a shock rip through me at his correction and a blush rushed through my face. “It’s okay, Ash. You can call me Z,” I said, softly, staring at a point above his head, afraid to look him in the eyes. “I kind of like it.”

His hand shot out, wrapping around the back of my neck and dragging me toward him. “I have a confession to make too.”

“Oh, yeah?” I squeaked, my gaze on his lips. I missed kissing him. Had it been that long since I kissed him? I wanted to kiss him again. “What’s that?”

He sighed, his eyes raised to the ceiling. He looked back down at me, a sheepish look on his face. “My real name is not Ash. My name is actually Ashley. My mom had a slight obsession with
Gone with the Wind
and named me after some buffoon named Ashley. I got teased a lot about it at my old school and begged her to let me shorten it to Ash when I moved to New York and started at St. Joseph’s.”

My lips twitched a bit as I took in this piece of information. Ash stared down at me expectantly, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I burst out laughing, giggles ripping through my body. I hadn’t laughed like this in ages, and I couldn’t stop. Tears had sprung in the corner of my eyes, and for the first time in so long, it wasn’t because I was sad.

“Oh, go on and make fun of me,” Ash said, his eyebrows narrowed at me. He had a grin on his face though, and I launched into another set of uncontrollable giggles.

“Sorry, Ashley,” I burst out. “I’ll try not to make fun of you.”

“Come here, you,” he said, launching himself at me. I squealed and pulled back, flopping backward on the bed. I moved to roll away, but he grabbed a hold of me, his large hands holding my arms down, his body half pressed against me.

The giggles faded from me as I stared up at him. My breath got caught somewhere in the back of my throat as a wave of desire swept through me, pinning me to the bed, underneath the heat of his body. He was studying my face, looking for permission, and I gave it with a small nod. His hand came up to cup my cheek, and he pressed his lips against mine.

I’d like to say that I was cool and calm and demure when he kissed me, but that was not the case. I clung at him, desperately. I had been so worried about him, and I poured all the love I had for him into the kiss. His tongue probed at my lips, and I opened myself up to him. I grabbed at him, pulling him closer to me, and I heard him gasp. I pulled myself away, my mouth a round O of surprise. “Ash, I’m sorry.”

He smiled but there was pain in it. “It’s okay. Just…be careful of my ribs.”

I nodded, one swift up and down movement. I pressed my palm against his chest, feeling his heart beat against the soft flesh of my hand. “I’m so sorry. I can be gentle with you.”

Ash bent lower over me, his hands lingering as he traced the curves of my body with his fingertips. “I don’t want you to be gentle with me,” he admitted, his voice low.

A shiver ran through me, and I arched my back, pressing myself closer to him, as I pulled him back to me for a kiss. He moaned, a deep sound in the back of his throat, as I bit the soft skin of his lower lip. My hands were tracing the fine contours of his chest and stomach and tugging at the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a moment, allowing me to lift his shirt over his head and toss it to the floor.