Chapter 7 #2
“It’s a good natural painkiller,” Leo said with a shrug. “We work with what we can get, and it’s easy for Dom to grow it in his garden. Chew a few leaves when you need pain relief, but start slow. Too much at once will make you sick to your stomach.”
“Isn’t this just going to make me stoned?”
Leo chuckled. “Maybe a small high, but Dom tries to grow CBD-rich strains, which are low in THC. Or that’s what he tells me, anyway.”
“How would he know?” Asha asked, wondering if Leo would tell the truth.
Leo broke eye contact before saying, “He’s our amateur botanist, I suppose. Learned everything from his grandmother, who raised him.”
Asha wrinkled her nose. How had she not noticed it before?
No Wastelander knew a word like botanist. Leo spoke like an educated professional…
because he was one. He was a legitimate, went-to-medical-school doctor.
It explained all the tools he had, his store of advanced medicine, his obvious knowledgeability—everything.
She was sure of it, and there was only one way it was possible, given that he was far too young to have trained before the Fall.
“Or from the school he went to, in the compound you’re from?” Asha asked casually, sipping again from her mug.
Leo choked on his tea.
“Surprised it took you this long to get it,” Cade said conversationally, leaning against the doorframe. “I knew you were one of us from the second I saw you.”
Asha eyes darted over to him. He wasn’t in his uniform anymore, though he still wore all black, even when dressed casually in a t-shirt and long pants.
Without the bulk of the tactical outfit, she could more clearly see that he wasn’t just in good shape—he was absolutely shredded.
The sleeves of his t-shirt strained against his biceps, and he crossed his muscular forearms over a very well-developed chest, which she noted, she told herself, with nothing but irritation.
The April morning was probably too chilly for short sleeves, but if he noticed, he didn’t seem to care…
and she was glad, because it allowed her to admire his full sleeve of black tattoos on each arm.
A black snake was coiled all the way down his left arm, with intricate designs in between, and his right arm was covered in vines, with leaves stretching upward into his shirt.
In spite of everything, Asha found herself wondering where they ended, and what other tattoos he might have in hidden places.
Unlike Angel’s tattoos, which were crudely drawn, these were clearly done by a professional.
Cade strolled into the room like he owned it, and Asha had to admit that it was a little embarrassing that she hadn’t gotten it sooner, watching him.
His skin was perfectly smooth, free of scars or marks, and his light skin didn’t have any signs of a tan, even though he probably spent a lot of time outdoors.
He looked more youthful than any of the other men, even the ones who were clearly younger than him.
When they’d walked through that swampy bit of forest with the gnats, the other men had complained of being bitten, but the bugs hadn’t bothered Cade, Leo, or Dom.
Their physiques, though not impossible for regular men, were surely easier to achieve with the cocktail of vitamins, hormones, and whatever else they put into the compound implants to chemically enhance their people.
They had the same implant that she did, and it should’ve been obvious.
Shockingly, when you’re constantly scared that you’re about to die, survival is all you can think about, even when a perfect, unfairly beautiful man abruptly enters your life.
“That’s why you helped me,” Asha murmured in sudden understanding.
Cade nodded. “Wondered how a girl like you ended up in a place like that.”
He didn’t pose it as a question, but he clearly wanted an answer, because he paused briefly, watching her. But she wasn’t about to offer him anything when she didn’t know anything about his past either. When she stayed quiet, he cleared his throat.
“She cleared to go?” Cade asked, nodding at Leo.
“If she feels ready,” Leo replied, turning to Asha. “Do you need anything else?” When she shook her head, he gave instructions to keep her sprained wrist bandaged for the next week, and otherwise to rest as much as possible, to give her bruises and internal tears time to heal.
“Time to go home, then,” Cade said, and Asha’s heart sped up, pounding unpleasantly in her ears. Home. His, maybe. She didn’t think she’d ever consider this wretched place—where she’d been bled, and tortured, and raped—home. Home wasn’t the place that haunted you.
“I’d get my things, but I have none,” Asha deadpanned as she got up and walked toward Cade.
She was going for levity, but it just sounded hollow and pathetic. Fitting, since that was exactly how she felt.
Cade raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t comment as they left the infirmary. He led her through the hallways of the clubhouse, where the women were already bustling about, preparing breakfast for Angel’s inner circle. Asha was glad she didn’t have to join them.
“You don’t need things,” Cade said as they walked out into the sunshine. “Not now, I mean. We…we can get you things of your own, in time. But I have enough for both of us for now.”
She said nothing. What was she supposed to do?
Thank him? She couldn’t summon much gratitude at the moment—for him, or even for her own existence.
Dying at the compound with everything she knew suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad end.
At least she wouldn’t be living here, with these people who lived hand-to-mouth and thought nothing of slavery and torture.
“My place is near the back of the settlement,” Cade continued, sounding cagier than she’d ever heard him. He spoke carefully, as though weighing each word. “There’s a fenced-in backyard, and it’s pretty overgrown, so it’s more secluded than the other houses. There’s…privacy.”
Asha frowned, wondering why on Earth it mattered. Her dignity was in pieces already. She kept her face as hard as marble: cold and unbreakable, even as she was collapsing inside.
Cade swallowed hard at her expression, and he gave up any further attempts at conversation as they walked to his home.
After about twenty minutes, they reached the edge of the gated community, and one lone condominium at the end of what was once a cul-de-sac.
Ivy covered the worn brown brick, all but camouflaging the house in the greenery behind it.
If Asha hadn’t spotted the sun-bleached grey door, she might’ve missed it altogether.
The window frames were glassless and covered by thick, dark curtains.
The roof looked sunken with age, but surprisingly intact.
A brick chimney snaked up the side, leaning precariously.
The porch was tiny, its concrete cracked in half a dozen places…
but all things considered, Asha thought, it could’ve been much worse.
At least it was decent shelter from the elements.
Cade hopped up the steps to the door and held it open for her. It was heavy, solid wood, probably expensive in its day, and Asha took a small amount of comfort from the fact that it wouldn’t be easy to break down.
This is my life now, she thought bitterly. I think of all the ways someone can hurt me, so that when it happens, at least it’s less surprising.
The interior of the house was small and dark, with all the curtains drawn over the windows.
It was an open concept floor plan with the kitchen and living room as one space, and a well-worn door on the opposite wall that led to a small backyard.
A short hallway in the far corner led to what Asha assumed was a bedroom.
The discoloured kitchen cabinets and small island had no doors on them, and only held a couple of iron pots and wooden dishes.
The old appliances were scratched to hell and rusted—nothing more than giant bricks at this point.
There was an old metal table and a couple of metal chairs for a dining area.
In what was once the living room, there was a fire barrel with a metal grate laid over it to create a makeshift grill.
Otherwise, there were only a few small end tables, strewn with Cade’s various belongings: old maps, compasses, and a few books.
The rest of the space was bare and unfurnished, with no place to sit other than at the dining table.
The wood floor, which flowed throughout the house, was worn down to almost nothing.
It was one of the most depressing-looking dwellings Asha had ever visited. Dark, drafty, and utterly devoid of personality or homey touches. Her house back at the Cave was more lovingly decorated, and it had largely been a sterile, prefabbed box.
The best thing she could say about it was that it was cleaner than the clubhouse, at least. Granted, compared to the Cave, it was still a dirty hovel, but unlike the other living spaces Asha had seen in Angel’s Nest, it at least looked like it saw a broom every once in a while.
Cade must’ve read her expression, because he said, a little sheepishly, “I’m not usually home that much. When I am, I spend most of my time in the yard.”
“Why?” Asha couldn’t help asking.
“Training,” he replied. “There’s gym equipment out back. I work out in the morning, and then I usually do training drills with the guys in the afternoons. But that’s out on the field—we have a setup.”
Asha didn’t say anything. She felt strangely detached, as though she were watching her life instead of living it.
Reality felt distorted, like a bad dream that wouldn’t end even after she realized she was dreaming.
She couldn’t have known, those mornings when she delayed getting up for a job she didn’t enjoy, that she’d one day long to wake up in her bed at the Cave.
She’d even welcome seeing a classroom full of bored teenagers if it meant escaping this place.