Thirteen
Rubin
Ilistened to Simone behind me, but didn’t bother to look at her.
I knew what I’d see, embarrassment, a touch of anger, but ultimately acceptance.
Couldn’t bear it because it was all a lie. This had been a transaction like any other before it. It had been a long time. She was available. The agreement had been made.
It didn’t matter that she’d been telling the truth.
Just like it didn’t matter that knowing no one else had had her unleashed a possessiveness that was terrifying. Just like the regret that this hadn’t happened in a California King bed with thousand-dollar sheets and the world not falling apart didn’t matter.
Taking her that way gave me distance, and I needed it. Because through all the hatred, I still wanted her, could remember the feel of her skin against my palms, the sweet little sounds she’d made, remembered how being that close to her almost made me forget what she was, what she’d done.
And that was more dangerous than any zombie.
But my mind kept straying back to those moments. The shocked pleasure at uncovering that she hadn’t been lying. How she’d come on my cock without warning or prompting, without me even trying. How even now, when the power was finally, completely in my hands, she managed to surprise me.
How much I fucking hated that.
“What time is it?” I asked when she came out of the bathroom. My watch was in my cell, but I’d seen Simone’s, the same drug store digital watch she’d worn since I’d known her. I’d found out she’d bought ten at a going out of business sale.
“Almost seven,” she said.
I went over to the window, which was high and overlooked the parking lot and highway that the jail had been built next to. I’d always hated this building, even before I’d known what it was.
Nine drab gray concrete squares stacked one on top of the other to create a foreboding fortress that marred the skyline.
Once they’d filled the tower to capacity, the city had put what it called bungalows on the grounds.
They were really just prefabricated barracks that came off the back of trucks and were slapped up wherever the pieces were dropped.
The warden had graciously offered me and my men our own barracks.
I’d turned him down. He wanted me separated and neutralized and had actually believed what he called privileges would be enough to control me. He hadn’t thought that for long. Within a month, I had key members of the administrative staff and COs on my payroll, and the warden was mine within six.
I idly wondered if he and his asinine family had gotten eaten.
The sun was fading fast, but it still cast the stark-white roofs of the bungalows in a bright rainbow. Unlike most nights, the lights of the city hadn’t started to take over. No lines of red and white brake lights as far as the eye could see. The streets, so vibrant just hours ago, were dead.
“Close the other shades,” I said as I pulled the tangled cord and the blinds clanged to the windowsill.
“Yeah, guess we don’t want to let light in, though I suppose there’s no way anyone could miss this place.”
She sounded totally normal, and I told myself that was a good thing. She stifled a yawn. “We should take turns sleeping. Three hours on, three hours off, which should allow us to complete the sleep cycle,” she said.
“No.”
She furrowed her brow. “I’m not going to try to kill you, Rubin.”
“I know. Can’t sleep.”
She yawned again. “I can barely keep my eyes open. I know it’s just the adrenaline, but—”
“Then sleep.” My voice was flat, and I stared at the hole in the door where the glass had been before the warden’s assistant broke it out with his face.
“Good night, Mr. Marku,” she whispered.
She settled on the couch and then she went quiet, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my conviction that I would not fall for her act again.
Not again. I took the corner opposite the couch where Simone had stretched out.
It gave a full view of the office, the bathroom, and most importantly, the front door.
I hated being caged like this. Had spent months railing against it but knew that I had no other alternative.
It was this or being out there in the dark.
So I sat, the knife in my hand, thankful that my father had taught the necessity of letting go of regret.
It served no purpose, so I wouldn’t allow myself to mourn the fallen world.
Because it had fallen. I had no doubt about that. But I couldn’t change that. All there was to do was go forward.
The night dragged on, the darkness in the prison heavy.
The silence even heavier, except when it was interrupted by screams. To her credit, Simone didn’t stir, not once.
I wondered why. The women I’d thought I knew would have been on edge, unable to relax, or even worse, clinging to me or someone else for protection.
That Simone could sleep now, and do it well, told me all that she must have gone through.
There was a time when I would have saved her from a second’s suffering, but she’d tossed that away. Now, her suffering was not my concern. Good thing because it was only going to get worse for all of us.
She was up with the sun. There was no transition from sleep to wakefulness. One moment she was asleep, curled on the couch looking uncomfortable, and the next she was fully alert.
“I assume nothing happened while I was asleep?” she said.
“I wouldn’t know. I was here.”
“You didn’t rest at all.” She had the nerve to look concerned, setting off a shock of annoyance in my chest. I swallowed it down, reminding myself that getting caught up in reacting to Simone was dangerous for my health.
I pushed out of the chair I had been sitting in and went to the bathroom. When I came back, Simone had laid out honey buns and two bottles of water. I ate one, the overly sweet dough in my mouth nearly stale and somewhat nauseating. But it was better than nothing.
“I need to find Damian. So I think—”
My words were cut off by a bang, and instantly I grabbed the knife. Simone grabbed hers, too, but she still looked like she was going to jump out of her skin.
“Krye?”
At the use of my title, I cautiously walked toward the door. “Who is this?” I asked in Albanian.
The response came in the same language. It was Besnik. I cautiously pulled open the door. He walked in and spared one glance at Simone before he pulled me into a hug. He stepped back and smacked me on the chest.
“I told you I would find you. Were you worried I was dead or something?” I asked.
“You? Of course not,” Besnik said, smiling. “But we must go.”
Simone had already started to gather the items we had collected.
“Is she coming, too?” Besnik asked. He looked sheepish when he glanced at Simone, but then quickly refocused on me.
I bit back the annoyance. “She’s useful. Let’s go,” I said.
Besnik nodded and we walked, Besnik in front, Simone after him, and me behind.
It was the same path as yesterday, but it felt good to have Besnik at my side.
It was also much less eventful. And we made the walk in less than five minutes, ending up at the same door that had been impassable yesterday.
“You got in,” I said.
“Arben, he overrode the wiring so we have access to these three wings. He and Lorik are doing a search as we speak,” Besnik said.
I walked through the door after Simone and Besnik, ignoring the carnage. We made it to the common room in the back. Damian was there, while other men lay spread in various spots. I went to greet my brother, but stopped when I heard Simone.
“Aaron!” Simone said, her voice bright.
I watched as she broke away from Besnik and ran over to another man. She smiled at him, a real smile, one I had never seen directed at anyone else, and then pulled him in for a hug.
“Baby girl,” he said, his voice soft with tenderness.
It was Aaron who had introduced us. As they hugged, I could see the clear affection between them. He looked at her like a proud father over a pair of reading glasses mended at one hinge with tape, and she smiled up at him with pure adoration.
I cataloged the smile like I did everything else, recognized that it was genuine, pure. A smile she’d never given me. One I decided then I didn’t want.
She stepped back.
“You doing all right? You’re looking a little thin.”
“I told you I was never gonna eat bologna again.”
“Oh gosh, Aaron. So you’ve been eating honey buns and potato chips?” she said.
He smiled sheepishly, and the platinum chain around his neck caught the light.
Two things hung off it: a woman’s wedding band—his mother’s—and a small, dinged-up medal.
Simone’s first place medal for seventh-grade math bee.
I knew that because I knew everything about Simone, down to the things she’d never said out loud.
Aaron hadn’t said them either, but he wore his pride for her around his neck every day.
“Don’t tell Mama,” he said, and she chuckled. Then she pulled him in for a hug.
“I’m so glad to see you. I was so worried.” She squeezed his hands.
“You think some zombies are gonna take me down, baby girl?”
She laughed and continued to hold his hand as they went over to a bench in the back of the area.
“Come here, Simone,” I said.
The room had been abuzz with activity but went quiet at my words. Simone looked at me, then looked back at Aaron.
“Now,” I said, my voice quiet.
Aaron looked down at her and then glanced at me. “Go ahead, baby girl. We’ll catch up later.”
She nodded, then walked over to me. “Yes, Rubin?” she asked.
I ignored her and turned to Damian. “You were going to break me out, huh?” I said.
He nodded decisively. “But the fucking world had to end before I could do it.”
“Yes. I guess it’s unfortunate that the end of the world cut into your grand plan,” I said. “So, what’s going on?”
He nodded and then pulled me over to a corner.
“Stay right there, Simone,” I said, still not looking at her.
Damian laughed. “I guess not all is lost,” he said, staring at her.
I shifted so that I was standing in front of him. “What does that mean?”
“She’s here. That means finally she’ll get what she deserves.” He shrugged like it was nothing.
And it was.
Simone’s betrayal was a capital offense, and had she been anyone else, she would have been dead a year and a half ago.
She wasn’t anyone else though, and I still hadn’t figured out how to handle that, but it was for me to handle.
I looked at Damian. My brother was much more intelligent than he liked to admit, but his games had never worked on me.
“Who is krye, Damian?”
“You are.”
“Whose word is law?”
“Yours.”
“Then hear me when I say this and know that it’s law. I’ll deal with Simone in the way I see fit, in the time I see fit. It’s not up for discussion.”
He nodded. “Yes, krye,” he said in Albanian.
I held his gaze for a moment longer, pretending like I didn’t know how quiet the room had gone, like I wasn’t sure how this display was playing out. And after a moment, Damian reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“So, what’s happening? We lost two trying to get to this place.”
“What was standing in the way?” I asked.
“Lots of those dead things. COs tried to take us out too.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Looks like they all got together with all their stupid riot gear and toys and took the two other wings. They were headed this way, but we pushed them back. The other inmates spread out. I think they all figured out that trying to settle their petty grievances right now wasn’t the plan.
Those who managed to survive the night are looking for someone to tell them what to do.
So what’s the plan, Rubin?” Damian asked.
I squeezed my brother’s shoulder. “The same as it’s always been. Survive.”