Chapter 3 #3
“It’s just a joke, Hartley. Don’t take it so hard.” That smirk only grows, and something I can only take as a warning slithers through my limbs.
“Is everything okay?” I hear my wife say, and I look over towards the door, watching her stand in the doorway with guarded posture.
Her shoulders are tense, and she’s looking between Satori and I like she’s afraid a fight will start at any moment.
The intense need to break a bone starts to dissipate, but I look back over at Satori one last time, taking that cocky grin to heart.
“Yes, my love,” I reply softly, keeping my eyes on Satori until I look back over to her, loosening the tension in my shoulders as I walk over to her.
“We were just talking.” I lean down and kiss her forehead, letting the touch linger for a moment too long.
“Let’s get you that food. You need to eat.
” I look back one last time at Satori and watch Alex and Carter get up and walk over to us.
They look at him cautiously as well, obviously sensing the hostility from him, too.
Kade looks like a kid caught in a fight between his two divorced parents, and he glances at Satori with a confused look.
I pull away, not wanting to deal with whatever marital feud they're about to have, and then my eyes catch Zeke.
He's staring at the table, like the grain of it secretly holds all of life’s answers.
I step away and up to him, gripping his shoulders in my hands.
“Come on, man. Let's get some food in you, yeah?”
He shakes his head, but it's more like a robotic movement. There's no emotion behind it, like he's only doing it because I demand an answer.
“I'm not hungry,” he whispers, still not taking his eyes off the table.
“Well, then how about you help us pass the food out? You said you wanted to keep busy,” I try to remind him, putting somewhat of a demand behind my words. He thinks about that for a moment before nodding and standing up, and I’m not sure I’ve felt more accomplished about anything else today.
We walk out of the conference room, noticing all of the people in the halls and rooms as we make our way to the kitchen area, when someone stops me—making me freeze.
“Hey, stranger.”
That familiar, haunting voice calls out from behind me, and I physically shiver. I haven’t spoken to her since Henry’s funeral, and something about hearing her now is both heart wrenching and soothing all at once.
Her voice didn’t always carry this weight.
I remember a time when it felt as comfortable as any of my cousins’ words, and now it’s like we don’t know each other at all.
I’ve been too weak to speak to her outside of messages, even though Ashia occasionally does.
It’s despicable, and there’s no real excuse for it.
I just can’t listen or see her without imagining Henry’s lifeless eyes—knowing what we lost.
I turn to face her, seeing the three faces I used to know so well, and my heart jumps out of my chest. Three-year-old Bella stands on the left, holding her mother’s hand in her tiny one, and looking like her mother’s twin.
Her mom stands tall, holding a now seven-month-old Jeremiah on her hip with a smile on her face, but there’s something just behind those orbs that still lays dying—an emptiness that will never heal, and one that I allowed to exist.
“Marissa…” I don’t take my eyes off her, even as Ashia walks up and gives her a hug.
They wrap their arms around each other like they’re old friends, and while the sight is something I would’ve begged for months ago, it feels tainted now, like no matter how many times I’ll see the scene before me, it’ll always feel like something is missing.
“I love the new place,” she says as she pulls away from my wife. “Henry would’ve loved it. I remember how you two used to geek out over the Basement, and that place was a dump.” She laughs softly, and Ashia just smiles and shakes her head playfully.
“Hey, I love the Basement,” Ashia innocently argues back, and they start conversing about the shop.
I want to chime in, pretend like we’re just as close as we were six months ago, but I’m not sure I can ever go back to that.
Bella is looking at me curiously, like she knows she should remember me, and the look on her face almost makes me nauseous.
Jeremiah almost looks like a completely different kid now, somehow growing more than just three months in that small time, and it makes me feel like even lesser of a man.
I’ve missed so much since Henry died, and while Ashia and I have texted to check on her, I haven’t been around like I should.
The thought of being around her, and being the reason her husband is dead, just makes me feel sick.
I don’t deserve her kindness, and I surely don’t deserve her friendship, but as sweet as she is, she’s giving it to me anyway.
It makes me hate myself all the more.
“I know you guys are probably running around like chickens with their heads cut off today, but is there somewhere in this massive place where I can get the kids a snack? Once we got the message notification to head here, I was afraid to grab anything from the house besides his baby food.” Marissa bounces Jeremiah on her hip, making him giggle.
“Yeah, we were just figuring that out,” Ashia says and grabs my hand.
“Why don’t you all follow the guys to the kitchen, and we’ll get you something?
” Marissa smiles at us and nods, then follows in behind everyone else.
I go to step in after them, but Ashia squeezes my hand, signaling for me to hang back, and I look down at her troubled eyes once again.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Damien? You’ve seemed out of it since we got here.
” There’s sincerity in her tone, and I can’t help but squeeze her hand again.
“It’s okay if you need a minute,” she whispers, making sure no one else can hear her.
“No. I’m fine, baby. Let’s get you taken care of.” I pull her along, yearning to put all of my focus on her needs before I fall into that dark place in my mind, because if I go there again, I’m not sure I can crawl back out.
The dining hall is now filled with our families, and even though I hate the circumstances, it’s nice to have everyone here.
My mom is standing next to my wife and Marla, chatting away like it’s any other day of the week as they put rice and vegetables on plates.
My father and Richard are still talking as they cook chicken and beef, seemingly having a friendly conversation.
Zeke is sitting with his parents, Marissa, and the kids, who are keeping him occupied by demanding his attention—especially Bella.
He looks like he could scream, but I think that’s just because he’s not used to kids. The same look always creeps on his face when he’s had to deal with my cousin’s kids, and now that the Attic is full of them? He might have a stroke, but at least he’s distracted.
Everyone now has safe food and water, and Carter is coming up with showering schedules as he eats beside Zeke.
We have a couple of full bathrooms here on the first floor, and then the shower rooms on the bottom with the training area, but we also need to make sure we’re not doing some violent shit down there when the kids need to bathe.
I knew we prepared for the apocalypse when we built this place, but I certainly never thought we’d have to utilize it.
“Here, baby.” Ashia hands me a plate and then grabs her own.
“Everyone else has food. It’s our turn.” She gently pushes me towards a table, and our parents follow behind.
As I sit, I pull her into my lap, not caring that our parents can see.
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her shake her head, but she doesn’t try to defy me.
“Oh, we have enough food for everyone for probably the next few days, but if the water is shut off in the city for more than five, we might need to get some food ordered,” she tells me just before she takes a bite of rice and chicken, and I nod to respond.
Thanks to a ‘tip’ from us into the PD hotline, they’ve already identified the poison used in the attack.
It’s exactly as we thought, and they’re currently working on treating the water.
It got pretty far into the system though, from what Tony told us, so the treatment could take several days, if not weeks.
Now that the city officials have coordinated with Disaster Relief through the government, they should expect to see deployment within the next twenty-four hours, but we’ll continue to handle drop-offs until then.
Dean, Adrien’s brother, was supposed to start with us this evening, but he’s been out on the streets all day—clocked in as an officer.
He keeps sending us updates, telling us how well we did, and that the people seem to be doing well with the supplies we gathered.
Shelters in the unaffected part of town have opened their doors as well, and it’s nice to see the community come together to get everyone through this time.
This could have gone a lot worse, and yes, a lot of people are dead, including Taylor…
but we’re helping a lot of people as well.
As I think of where the city was six years ago when I started this—hell, even last year—it’s good to see the people coming together despite their views and all of the violence.
“What do you think they’re talking about over there?” my dad asks me, pulling me from my thoughts. I glance over in Satori and Kade’s direction, noticing how they’re sitting alone and talking in hushed tones.
“No idea,” I reply before taking a bite of my own food. My father’s tense stare only sharpens as he looks back over to them, clearly assessing them before looking back to me.
“Do you trust them?”