Chapter 28
Reunions never went quite the way you predicted , Asha thought, as she watched the back of her once-best friend’s head.
It was the middle of the night, and the woods were pitch black, but the moon was full, lending a silvery glow to the brush.
Claire walked ahead of her, her vibrant red hair flowing down her back, and glanced back at Asha every so often, as though she couldn’t believe she was real.
Asha couldn’t believe it, either. When she’d reached that little bunker under the school in the Cave, it had been untouched, as she expected.
Shelves and shelves of long-life food and survival supplies meant that she could stay for weeks, if not months.
She’d had no real plans beyond catching her breath and deciding her next move.
She certainly hadn’t expected, on the third day of her stay, for her dead best friend to burst through the door of the bunker with a strange Wastelander in tow.
Her boyfriend, she said. They were there to find a shot of Regenerex for a friend who’d been injured on their travels up north, towards a farm that the Wastelander claimed had electricity and water—a promise that was surely far too good to be true.
Since when do you consider Wastelanders fuckable, Claire? Asha wondered as she watched her friend carefully step over an errant tree root. And since when are you so damn gullible?
Claire had always been terrified of them, probably because she’d been required to teach the Cave’s propaganda about outsiders.
Asha had never believed the more outlandish claims—that Wastelanders were more animal than human, or that they all exclusively ate human flesh—because she’d gathered from her government-employed parents that they were exaggerated.
Her parents rarely spoke of Wastelanders at all, contrary to the fearmongering that was encouraged in the public at large.
But Claire’s own father had lost his life to Wastelanders. To see her hanging on the arm of a man who totally looked the part of a dangerous outsider was terribly strange.
Despite her misgivings, Asha left the Cave with them, sneaking out a breach in the wall that Claire had found. After all, she had nowhere to go now, and no one else to look after. They offered the most viable escape route.
“If you give us away or do something stupid, I’ll kill you,” the Wastelander said, pinning Asha with a hard look. “Understood?”
Asha spared a glance at Claire, who didn’t even look sympathetic, before glowering at him. He didn’t flinch, and grudgingly, she replied, “Understood.”
From the moment Asha had set eyes on Claire’s new boyfriend, she hadn’t trusted him.
He was white, tall and lean, with light brown eyes and dark brown hair that was shaved on the sides in an undercut, with the rest falling to his shoulders.
He wore hiking boots, practical long pants, and a leather hunting jacket.
A hunting rifle was strapped to his back, and he held a pistol in his hand.
His physique was clearly fit and muscular, but it was the kind of body that came from hard labour rather than the gym.
John Madigan, he’d introduced himself as, when they’d gotten clear of the compound.
As if this fucker has a last name, Asha snarked. No Wastelander she’d ever met had one; it was one of those things that died with civilization. He looks like he walked right out of a cyberpunk comic, and he has the mouth of a sailor. No fucking way he has anything as civilized as that.
She resolved to refer to him only as Madigan, if only to amuse herself with his lies.
She believed none of what he said. After all, she’d met plenty of men like him, who gave women protection in exchange for their bodies.
She mentally prepared herself to shoot him when he inevitably turned on Claire and her.
As soon as they’d left the compound, Madigan gave orders—not just to Claire, but to Asha, too. She clenched her jaw, irritated.
“We need to make good time,” he said, his voice edged with impatience. “Kimmy’s counting on us.”
That was how they’d ended up hightailing it through the woods, away from the roads where bandits were most likely to roam. Asha knew the nearby highway was frequented by the Skulls, though she didn’t share that with her companions.
When they stopped for a break, Madigan went to sleep at Claire’s urging, and finally, Asha spoke to her alone. She hoped to speak some sense to her friend.
“Didn’t think I’d ever see you with a Wastelander, much less be smitten with one,” Asha said, trying for a laugh. “You really think that’s a good idea out here?”
Claire looked confused. “What do you mean?”
Asha pinched the bridge of her nose. “The Wasteland’s a ruthless place,” she said frankly. “Every bit the hellhole we were told about. Didn’t appreciate the warm bed and full belly I always had at the Cave, all because they matched me with someone I didn’t want.”
Asha shook her head. “Spent so much of my time whining about how tough we had it under tyranny, yet not a day’s gone by that I don’t wish I’d wake up in my bed back home. I’d marry that poor bastard a million times over again if I could just have that.”
She hadn’t put it in so many words to herself, but as the words escaped, Asha realized they were true.
If she could erase Cade—even if it meant forgetting the best moments of her life—she would.
Even thinking his name was searingly painful, like wilfully putting her hand on a hot stove.
His betrayal left oozing blisters on her thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” Claire said softly. “I don’t know what must’ve happened to you to make you feel that way…but I’m sure it can’t have been easy.”
“You’re saying that you don’t agree,” Asha replied, unable to hold back an ironic laugh. Seriously, this guy must be good if he got to her like this. “Come on, is Wild Man’s dick that good?”
Claire frowned, and Asha briefly wondered if she’d offended her delicate sensibilities. Asha certainly couldn’t imagine Claire making the sort of straightforward blowjobs-for-protection deal that she’d made with Cade. She’d undoubtedly clutch her pearls at the idea.
Asha had always been the more pragmatic one.
“John saved me, that day at the factory. From the cannibals. After you left me.”
Asha’s mouth opened in outrage, but her once-buried shame bubbled up to the surface. You’re a horrible person, it whispered to her. Worthless. Unlovable. Unworthy of—
“I didn’t leave you,” she shot back at Claire. “We got split up, and by the time I got back to where I last saw you, you were gone.”
Liar, her shame whispered again. You could have fought. You could have saved her from him.
Claire sighed wearily. “It doesn’t matter. Fact is, he saved my life, and I’ve been with him since.”
Of course she had been. What man in this brutal world wouldn’t take advantage of an obviously desperate woman in need of assistance? Asha’s anger got the better of her, and she couldn’t help snapping, “How noble of him, to rescue a helpless woman to rape,”
Predictably, Claire looked even more offended. “That’s not what happened.”
Asha took a deep breath to collect herself.
She had to be patient if she wanted to get through to her friend.
Claire wouldn’t see the truth right away; that was the nature of the kind of relationship she’d found herself in.
Perhaps, though, she could chip away at it enough that Claire would eventually see the truth for herself.
“If he had, he’d be no different to any of the other Wastelander men I’ve met,” Asha said, and she was pleased that she sounded much calmer. “Kinder, in fact, if he’d had the manners to ask first. They usually just take what they want—whatever they want.”
Claire’s expression shifted to something like horror. “Is that what happened to you, Asha?”
With a sigh, Asha began to tell her story, and wove a tale that was part-real, part-fiction.
She told Claire that she’d been found by Angel and had made a deal with him for protection.
She described the way the unattached women had been treated in her time with the Guardians as if it were her own experience, where they gave their labour and their bodies, and in return, they were fed and housed and protected from the worst of the Wasteland.
She didn’t like doing that, but it was the only way to entirely omit Cade from the story.
She had no desire to tell Claire, or anyone else, about him, or her time with the Blackguard. It was easier to pretend Cade hadn’t existed than to admit she’d fallen in love with a man like him, that she’d been so easily duped by how good he’d been to her. Speaking of him would be too much to bear.
“I’m sorry for what you’ve been through, Asha,” Claire said at the conclusion of her story, and her earnest eyes almost made Asha regret lying to her. “But I’m glad you got away, and that you’re here now. I’ve missed you.”
Asha doubted that was true, and when she finally rolled over to nap before they had to leave again, there was a leaden weight in her stomach.
After all that time, to find Claire alive should’ve felt like a miracle, a blessing.
But all things felt dulled to Asha’s senses now, as though she’d died and her body just kept walking, oblivious.
Perhaps if Claire had been as she remembered, it would’ve reawakened her, but this Claire had little in common with the friend she’d known.
She decided to follow them north to the farm Claire had mentioned. If it existed, which Asha doubted, she’d have a new place to live out whatever remained of her miserable life. If it didn’t, well, at least it’d be satisfying to kill Madigan when his lies were found out.
Perhaps it should’ve disturbed her that the idea of slaughtering shitty, abusive men was one of the only happy thoughts she had these days. Then again, happiness was in such short supply these days that she’d take whatever she could get.
Madigan wasn’t happy about Asha accompanying them to the family farm Claire had mentioned, called Summerhurst. It was located in a farming community in the far north they called the Valley, over a thousand kilometres on foot, and the journey—especially with winter looming—would be arduous.
Asha figured it couldn’t be any worse than whatever wandering she’d do on her own, however.
Hardship wouldn’t exactly be a shock for her.
The surprise instead came in the form of a short, dark-haired woman who Madigan claimed was his sister, though they looked nothing alike.
She was clearly of East Asian descent, with pretty brown eyes and a smattering of freckles.
She’d been deathly ill when they returned to the dilapidated cottage they’d been staying in, suffering from a horrific wound that’d gotten infected.
She recovered quickly after the shot of Regenerex, the same miracle drug that Asha had once seen in Leo’s medical kit.
Despite the wall of ice she’d built around herself, Asha had to admit to herself that Madigan’s sister was cute—the sort of girl she might’ve been attracted to, at a different time.
“What’s your name?” Asha asked her.
“Kimmy,” she replied with a small, warm smile. “I know that you’re Asha. Claire told me about you. I’m glad to see you’re alive and well.”
“Well might be stretching it,” Asha replied with a snort. “Even alive might be.”
To her surprise, Kimmy giggled. Her laugh was tinkly and sweet, exactly as she looked.
“It might be a stretch for me, too, after all this,” Kimmy said amiably. “But maybe we can help each other.”
Asha fixed Kimmy with a searching look, and to her surprise, Kimmy flushed a little in response and looked away.
She likes me, Asha thought, perplexed. She’s attracted to me.
She had no idea what to do with that information. The sounds of a terse argument between Claire and Madigan carried into the cottage from outside. Asha’s heart sped up in response. If they didn’t let her come along, where would she go?
And at that moment, in her ear, a familiar voice whispered, The only way to survive the darkness is to become its mistress, darling.
Well, he may not want her along, Asha reflected, but maybe he wasn’t the only one who could make that decision. Maybe there was another person—someone far less bossy and domineering and obnoxious—who could.
So, Asha gave Kimmy her most dazzling smile. “Yeah, maybe we can.”