Chapter 15 Holly
After wrangling the last of the Christmas committee volunteers into their assigned tasks—some more willingly than others—I finally had a moment to hunt down my growly purple co-hero. But Burr’k was nowhere to be found.
I checked all the usual places: the perimeter fence in case they set him on patrol duty, the mess hall in case he was hungry, even the downed mothership.
Technically, we humans called it the “mothership building” now, since it had become part of New Franklin’s infrastructure, but most of the Xarc’n warriors still called it the “downed mothership,” like it might lift off again someday, even though we’d removed every thruster.
That was where I bumped into Jask’l, the building’s overseer and unofficial keeper of all things mothership-related. He had his nose buried in one very Earth-style looking laptop when I accidentally poked my nose into his office in my search for Burr’k.
“Looking for someone?” he asked.
“Purple, tall, broody. Answers to Burr’k,” I said. “Grunts a lot.”
The friendly Xarc’n warrior chuckled. “He’s not here. I heard your foraging trip was most productive.”
I nodded. “We did great! And I couldn’t have done it without him. He took out a bunch of flyers too. It was so cool. And he’s a great pilot.”
“I’m glad to hear. I knew the trip would be good for him. And it proves he is ready for his new position.”
“New position?” My stomach sank.
“Yes, he just left with Zec’k.”
A loud clanging coming from down the hall cut him off.
“What now?” Jask’l rolled his eyes. There were more loud noises. “I need to go. Congratulations on a successful forage.” Then he was off to investigate the awful racket.
I couldn’t help the sense of disappointment as I left the mothership building and made my way through the covered walkways to the main survivor building.
I couldn’t believe he’d left without saying goodbye.
I wasn’t expecting some grand gesture, but a nod, a grunt, even a grumbled “Don’t get eaten” would’ve been something.
And to think I’d spent the entire time I was juggling glitter-covered volunteers mentally rehearsing how I’d ask him to join me for the evening meal.
Why the hell was I so upset anyway? He’d told me from the start that his stay was temporary, that he was waiting to be reassigned to another hunter’s group. That was exactly what happened.
“Holly!”
I turned at the sound of my name, already recognizing the voice before I saw her. Evie jogged up, cheeks flushed from the cold, her braid swinging behind her.
“My hunter’s out on patrol tonight,” she said, linking her arm through mine. “So, unless you’ve got a hot date with a food bar, you’re coming to dinner with—” She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You are a terrible liar.”
I sighed. I knew I couldn’t hide anything from her. “I’ll tell you over food.”
“Okay, we’ll take our food to go. And whatever is bothering you, we’ll drown it in gravy.”
***
Christmas Eve in New Franklin was a glittery, chaotic miracle. Somehow, everything came together.
The courtyard was set up like a Christmas market with stalls and booths, and the kids tore through them, laughing and playing.
The Christmas tree—a real pine tree we’d transplanted a few years ago in the courtyard—glowed with strings of salvaged lights and ornaments.
Someone had rigged up a speaker, so holiday music played in the background, tinny but cheerful.
It was loud, messy, and perfect. This was core memory material.
I wore my best cherry-red smile, even though inside I felt like a half-deflated balloon. I’d thrown myself into planning this celebration because staying busy was easier than thinking about the one person who wasn’t here.
Burr’k.
Everything reminded me of him.
I pasted on a smile as I sat by the hot cocoa booth in the courtyard next to the tree.
Next to me, the New Frankliners hung up their final ornaments, each person adding a final touch to the tree.
It was cold out, but I was bundled up nice and warm, and there was a fire nearby where people were roasting marshmallows.
I still couldn’t believe that just a few years ago, this wouldn’t have been possible at all. Not even in the winter at night. Any form of gathering or celebration had been like a dinner bell to the scourge. But here we were. It was proof that we were winning in this fight.
Despite that, my heart was distracted. And every time I scanned the crowd, hoping to see a familiar pair of golden eyes, I came up empty.
Merry freaking Christmas.
“Are you still manning the hot chocolate table?” Evie asked, peeling away from her hunter to join me.
My eyes lingered on her mate for a second, envious of what they had. Ugh! This was so pathetic. I was so pathetic.
I straightened my shoulders. Enough. I couldn’t let Burr’k ruin Christmas. I’d worked too hard for this. I was going to enjoy it, even if I had to fake it to make it.
As if on cue, Janice appeared holding a string of paper snowflakes and bundled in a scarf that looked like it had been knitted by a very enthusiastic toddler. She gave me a cheery wave and then proceeded to hang the paper garland over the front of the booth. Then she kicked me off my stool.
“I’ve got it from here,” she said. “Go enjoy yourself, Holly. You’ve earned it.”
The two exchanged a conspiratorial look, like they planned this all along.
“Come on,” Evie said, grabbing my elbows and steering me away from the cocoa table. “Let’s go inside and warm up. I’m freezing!”
We made our way to the main survivor building, where the indoor celebrations were in full swing.
The foyer glowed with strings of lights and garlands made of scavenged ribbon.
Paper snowflakes spun from the ceiling beams, and someone had built a faux fireplace out of crates and lanterns.
The scent of cinnamon and spice hung in the air.
Then we reached the stocking wall where dozens and dozens of mismatched socks and pouches were strung up with twine and ribbon. There was something sticking out of my stocking.
I frowned.
I’d helped fill all of these stockings with stocking stuffers earlier today. That hadn’t been there. Curious, I reached for the tiny scrap of red sticking out of the top and pulled. Out came the little stuffed mouse I’d regretfully left behind during the foraging run.
Burr’k was the only person who’d known about it. But how?
But that wasn’t it. I looked again and there was an… orange? That had to be Burr’k!
“Oh! That’s cute!” Evie said, her eyes on the mouse first, then the orange. “And an orange. You lucky girl!”
I held the gifts to my chest and turned around, almost expecting Burr’k to be there. But he wasn’t. Disappointed and a little confused, I put the mouse and orange back into the stocking.
Evie and I made our way into the cafeteria, which had been transformed into a cozy little wonderland. A smaller tree stood in the corner, decked out in tinsel and blinking lights, and several tables were piled high with food. There was enough hard apple cider to knock out a football team.
We were heading toward a group of carolers warming up near the fireplace when someone stepped into my path.
“Hey, Holly!” Ben said brightly.
Ben was barely out of his teens, new to New Franklin, and one of the more enthusiastic Christmas volunteers.
He’d been hovering around me in the week since I’d gotten back from my foraging trip, always eager to help.
I’d started to suspect he might have a bit of a crush.
Which was sweet, but I wasn’t interested.
I was also a little older than I looked, and he probably thought I was closer to his age than I was.
“Merry Christmas, ladies!” he said, flashing a grin.
“Merry Christmas!” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.
“This is the first Christmas I’ve had in an actual settlement, and everything turned out so perfect. And it’s all thanks to you, Holly.”
I waved off his words. “It’s thanks to everyone. The committee really pulled a Christmas miracle together.”
Then he pointed upward, and my stomach dropped.
Mistletoe.
Seriously?
I glanced up, then back at Ben, who was suddenly looking way too hopeful. I opened my mouth, trying to find a gentle way to let him down without crushing his holiday spirit.
But before I could say anything, there was a low growl, and a familiar shadow stepped between us.
Burr’k!
His golden eyes locked on Ben with a look that could curdle eggnog. The low voice was just as threatening. But it was the words that had me gasping.
“Holly is mine!”