Authors: Rebecca Ethington
I wanted to rejoice, to cry, to run and defeat the monsters so that no one had to die in vain. But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t trust her or anyone. If the writing on the wall as well as the experience with Sarah had taught me anything, it was that the world had changed.
“Stay in the light,” I repeated to myself, my voice deep and grumbly.
“You know the charter, I knew you weren’t completely hot.”
She smiled again, the same angry ice sliding through my insides.
“It’s a good thing, too, I would hate to have to kill you.”
Her eyes had changed, dark and cold. Not like those of the Ulama, like those of a human; a human who had seen too much and killed too many. I am sure I had the same look in my eyes now. My arm slowly dropped at the realization, the rail hitting the linoleum floor with a deep clang.
“I’m Bridget,” she said simply, the cold ice behind her eyes evaporating as quickly as it had come.
“Lex.”
I couldn’t take my eyes away from the girl who sat across the fire from me. She wasn’t looking at me anymore and the crazed darkness had gone from her eyes some time ago, but still, merely being close to her made me uncomfortable or excited. I wasn’t sure which.
Right now, the desire to run was too strong for me to know for sure. I wanted to grab the burning stick right in front of me and take off into the darkness of the grocery store, but I knew I wouldn’t get very far. My head still spun and ached and I was sure she had my lighter. I needed the lighter if I wanted to survive.
Even if I didn’t, I couldn’t pull myself away. The girl was human, un-cut. She was safe, even with all the danger and uncertainty that surrounded her; she wasn’t going to erupt into a monster at any moment. That fact gave me the biggest reason to stay. She was what I was searching for.
“Azul wasn’t expecting anyone, as I said,” Bridget began, her mind preoccupied on the cans in her hands, “but we are still glad to have you. We are going to need all the fire power we can get if we don’t want to go hot.”
I stared at her as she held the tin cans to her ears, shaking and tapping them.
“Everyone else should be coming in the next four weeks, twenty from VanTassel, fourteen from Sawyer and probably around ten from Quimby.”
I perked up at her words, recognizing family names from literary characters automatically, the familiar names ringing true, but not understanding what they meant. I could tell they were code for something, although exactly what was lost to me.
“Azul wants to clear out the main compound in about a month, so the more stable people we have the better. If we have too many hot ones they will turn on us before we get in half way and then we will all be dead.” She looked up at me and smiled before turning back to her cans.
I stared at her, trying to figure out what to say, but not even knowing where to begin. I wasn’t even clear about what she was talking about in the first place. I wanted to know what she was doing, where she had come from, what ‘hot’ and Azul meant. I felt each question on the tip of my tongue, yet they didn’t tumble out. They stayed there while I stared at her, heavy and uncomfortable as they floated around in my mouth like rotten food. Try as I might, nothing came. I could still see the darkness in her eyes and the untrusting part of myself had won out, leaving a scowl to take over my features.
Scowl at her over ask questions, it seemed more fitting considering our situation.
Of course, she didn’t seem as uncomfortable as I did. She was loose and joyful. Minus that brief moment from before when she almost seemed normal amongst the black that surrounded us. It made me wonder what I was missing.
“Sounds like green beans and corned beef hash. Wanna half it?” She held the cans up to me like I should understand the question, but I didn’t, so I only nodded and watched as she pulled a can opener out of another one of the large pockets on her cargo pants and began to dissect the cans.
“So, where are you traveling from?” she asked as she handed me the can of green beans and a fork. “Must be far; you seem pretty effected. I haven’t seen anyone as dark as you since the Tar cleaned out the capital.”
She looked up as she placed a fork full of Corned Beef Hash in her mouth, her jaw working to chew the food as she waited for an answer. I just stared at her, trying to make sense of the question in the first place.
“Silent type, huh? It must be far, you look a little haggard.” She chuckled through the food. “Blood Rose, right? Bloodens always look like hell. Of course it’s probably because they are so offset, that’s what you get for setting up an outpost on the edge by the first burn. Of course, you guys still have fresh fish so I can’t really fault you for that. I’d probably live next to the burn if I could get fish every once in a while. I bet the Grouper tastes just as good as I remember them, right?”
She looked at me in expectation, her face eager for an answer I had no idea how to give. Was she asking for a name of a city, a person? Was there an actual blood covered rose somewhere that I was unfamiliar with? I doubted it.
Blood Rose was the name of nothing familiar to me and it didn’t match the literary family names from before, making the whole thing more curious. I clenched my jaw at her as I stared into her, hoping to be able to discern some form of an answer from her, but nothing came. I nodded my head at her once, hoping it would do it and thankfully, she seemed pacified.
I was beginning to wonder how long I could keep this up or even why I cared so much to keep everything a secret. I didn’t trust her, but I could just tell her a few things. She seemed trusting, however I couldn’t ignore the silent alarm that was going off inside of me in warning.
“Makes sense,” she continued as if I had spoken, as if I cared about anything she said. “That’s like a four week trip on foot. And with no food or steady light, the buggers are already getting to you.”
She looked at me in expectation again. I wished she wouldn’t, I wished she would just accept me as being the quiet type and let us move beyond it. She obviously seemed content to hold up the conversation on her own anyway. If I didn’t need to talk, then I wasn’t going to do it.
“If you don’t eat that, the darkness is only going to get worse.
Don’t eat the food
, remember.” She pointed her fork at the can in my hands before returning to her own food, the grind of her fork against the tin loud in my ears.
“I sure hope you aren’t this much of a pleasure to be around all the time. I don’t need a hotter to mess up my day… I’ll kill you before that happens.” She laughed again, but the sound was becoming strained. Almost like I was scaring her. I wanted to say that was a good thing, but I could see the darkness seep back into her eyes. She wasn’t kidding, as much as she would like to put it on. She would kill me. And with my injury I would have no other choice than to let her.
I dipped the fork in the can quickly and speared four beans before plopping them into my mouth.
“That’s better,” she said, her voice calming. She was obviously still content to keep the conversation going on her own. “So tell me, Lex, how is Blood Rose? We didn’t expect anyone from your sector to join in the next burn. You guys sometimes don’t get our messages straight after the Tar severed the line four years ago. We weren’t even sure you got it…”
I didn’t hear anything else she said. I could see her mouth moving, her eyes shine in the firelight, but two words had stopped me dead. My hands tensed around the can I held, my fingers hard against the grooved tin.
“Four years?” The words were out before I had a chance to stop them, my voice high and panicked. That couldn’t be right, could it?
Bridget’s fork dropped back to the can, her jaw moving slowly as she chewed, her eyes digging into me. That same feeling of warning came over me, Bridget’s eyes spelling fear and hatred in one glace. The firelight froze against my skin as my confusion mixed with my fear, begging me to run. I ignored it, pleading with myself that she was safe, that she was human. Her eyes narrowed for just a moment before she swallowed and that same bright smile lit everything up.
“Did I say years?” She laughed, her voice tight. “I really meant months.”
She smiled again, but even I could see the lie, the flash of danger and expectation that had covered her face for that brief moment of time; the knowledge only strengthening my distrust and fear.
“That makes more sense,” my own lie was out before I could stop it. My words tip-toeing around something I couldn’t quite explain.
It was a game of cat and mouse, although I wasn’t quite sure what role either of us played. Bridget clearly feared me in one way or another. In that one flash of her eyes I had seen her plan my death. Me? I felt the same about her, although I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t trust her and while two years ago that wouldn’t have been enough to justify someone’s death, now it seemed more than enough. It scared me that the thought had come so readily, but just like everything else, it was becoming expected and as I sat there, I found myself planning a way to defeat her, even with my sore body.
I smiled at her and shoved a full fork of green beans in my mouth, hoping the show of faith would be enough to pacify her.
She smiled back, her lips a pencil thin line as she devoured more of her own food. I looked at her for a minute before returning to my own, the calculating silence between us unnerving.
It stretched as we ate and I was more than content to eat as slow as I could. The end of the meal creeping up like the end of my life.
A shallow buzzing filled the silence and Bridget jumped, her hand flying to her pocket and pulling out what was unmistakably a cell phone. I stared at it, my mouth falling open like a moron when she pushed a button and pressed it to her ear. The screen lit up against her skin.
“Bee,” she said, the soft sounds of a voice filtering through the air afterwards.
My eyes widened as I watched her, the small working box pressed against her ear. She had a cell phone, a working cell phone. A phone with electricity and light and connection to more people that were alive. I stared at her with my mouth gaping as she talked, my mind slowly working around what I was witnessing.
She was part of a bigger group, she had said that, but my untrusting nature hadn’t let that sink in. There were more, probably lots more. Somewhere with light and safety. I felt my heart jump at the thought before the look on Bridget’s face wiped the eager excitement from me.
“Were we expecting anyone from the beach?” she asked, her eyes lifting to mine for a moment before she smiled at me. I closed my mouth quickly, sure I hadn’t moved it in time.
“Yeah, I’ve got a hot one.” Her tone had changed, her eyes flitting away from me.
Hot. She had used that word before, the tone degrading like she was talking about rats. This time, though, I knew exactly what she was talking about. Me, and judging by what she had said earlier, she had every intention of killing me.
“Nah, it’s not bad. I’ll be home before the days out.”
I slowly reached away as she spoke, careful to keep my movements slow so as not to attract any information.
So much for assuming she was safe. I wrapped my fingers around my rail, keeping my hand low so as not to insight a fight that I was still holding out hope would not happen.
“Love you, too, Tee.” The light on the screen extinguished the moment she was done talking. Her hand moving to put the phone back in one of her massive pockets.
I watched every movement, not willing to take my eyes off her. She didn’t look at me, she just replaced the phone and brought her hands back to her lap, both thankfully empty. I didn’t take my hand off the rail, I would attack her unarmed if I had to. I would definitely need the upper hand against her, I already knew that for sure.
“So tell me, Lex, how long have you been roaming?” She didn’t even look at me as she spoke, her eyes still focused on the fire in front of us.
I didn’t say anything. I glared into her as I pumped my hand into a fist around the bar, letting my fear and tension release itself in the subtle movements of my hand. I could feel the tension grow in my jaw, the subtle fear growing into something bigger.