Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
The Cabin
Leon is as exhausted as I am, and the tall guy is far too big to chase me, leaving only Blue Eyes to evade.
My weighted boots slam into the ground as I press away from the earth, projecting myself forward with the last of my energy, but my body doesn’t let me down.
My sprinting carries me away from the men, and I put distance between us before they realise I’m gone.
Their shouts echo as they scramble to take control.
My hands chop through the air as I dash towards an opening in the trees.
A road! I’ll be able to run much faster on an even surface.
I lean myself forward as I race towards it.
That’s when I hear him.
That pace is faster than mine. Those boots pound the ground, gaining on me, and I don’t dare look back with his steps so close.
“Hey!” he shouts. “Hold up!”
A groan escapes as my body begs me to stop, and the space between us closes with the same building tension of putting pressure on a bubble.
He’ll grab me any second; I cannot outrun him.
When his touch grazes my arm, I slam on my brakes, bracing for impact.
There’s a collision, but I hold my ground.
I reach down to see his foot behind mine, and cupping behind his ankle, I yank it up like a handbrake as I push my back against him.
His body connects to the ground with a confirmatory thump, coughing into a laugh, and I prepare to spin away with my wheezing breath, making for the road.
“Wait, Everlee! Not the road!”
The shout of my real name invites hesitation, and he scrambles to his feet, holding his palms up defensively. Now that I’ve stopped, I couldn’t run if I wanted to, while my panting refuses to slow, verging on a wheeze.
I hold up my hand, revealing the blade in my palm. “Don’t touch me!”
“I won’t. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you running into the road,” he says with concern.
He takes a step forward, and I raise the knife again.
“Whoa! Wait up! We got off to a bad start. My name’s Zeke.
” He lowers his hands. “You can keep the knife. You can even have my knife. I only want to keep you safe. Rangers come up and down this road, and then there are the marauders. Please, come with us. I promise you, we’re the good guys. ”
Good guys.
Those words resonate deep within me. They exist. I believe in them.
Maybe there is nothing to fear. And he’s right about the marauders; my boot knife won’t be enough to protect me out here.
With no food, no cover, and depleted energy levels, I’m forced to surrender.
A rush of tears forces me to turn away. I just want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Instead, I shake my head and slip my knife into my belt.
I defeatedly step towards him. “Sorry. It’s … been a tough day.”
Zeke relaxes, keeping a comfortable distance between us as I walk parallel to him. He points in the direction we need to head.
“Don’t worry about it. Looks like you’ve been having a tough time in general.” He points towards my face.
My hand moves to shield the bruising and cuts; I forgot that they publicly display my recent trauma. “Yeah. It’s been a tough few weeks, actually.”
His black denim jacket seems too big for him, but his white T-shirt, dusted with dirt, emphasises his slimmer frame.
He walks with a bounce in his step and a clean-shaven face, looking younger than Leon.
His disarming smile and bright eyes soften his sharp jawline and pinched nose while he speaks with a slight smile.
“You’re pretty fast. It took me longer than I would have liked to catch up with you.”
“I used to love running. That’s the first time I’ve been able to run in years,” I say, realising how freeing it was to have the space to sprint.
“Well, hopefully, where you’re going, you can run whenever you want.”
“Do you know where I’m going?”
He shrugs. “We only know the next checkpoint. We don’t know your final destination.”
We’re nearing where I left off. Leon is pacing between the trees, combing his fingers through his wet hair, cradling his head as we approach. “Are you okay?! What happened?”
A blush overcomes me. “Leon, I’m sorry… I panicked.”
“Are we okay now? Trust, right? Remember?”
I agree. I need to trust them. They’re hired to get me somewhere safe, and I need to respect the process.
With the motorbikes now propped up, the tall guy stands beside them, dwarfing Zeke, and as he glares, I’m unsure if it’s his resting face or if my little escape attempt pissed him off.
“Sorry,” I say, “I don’t know your name.”
“Atlas.” He grunts before swinging his leg over the bike and turning his back on me to pull on his helmet.
Okay, so I’ve pissed him off. Great start, Everlee.
Leon is packing wet clothes into the tan leather saddlebags when Zeke taps an open-faced helmet against my arm. I twist my damp hair onto the top of my head before pulling it on, then zip up the leather jacket, concealing any feminine giveaways.
Leon tilts his head back to let his hair fall from his face and lowers his cap backwards.
“So, we’ve got a few hours on the road before we get to our first checkpoint.
” He passes me a small ID card: no photo, only a name and other details.
“If we get stopped, you can’t be a woman.
So, you’ll be Tom Cole from Reno, Nevada.
” I nod. “Don’t worry, we rarely come across anyone on this stretch.
Let us do the talking, but this is in case they ask. ”
He jumps on one of the bikes and invites me to sit behind him.
The stripped-down steel frames expose their dark, oily mechanics.
Back on the farm, Kris and I used to play on his brother’s dirt bikes around the fields, although my fathers would have been furious if they had known.
I step on a foot peg to boost me over the seat, and the bike bounces beneath my weight as I awkwardly close the space between Leon and me.
It is uncomfortably intimate as his damp jacket sticks to my leather, and I lightly wrap my arms around his waist as he reaches for the handlebars.
“You might want to hold a little tighter,” he says, glancing back with a smirk while starting the engine.
With the first jerk of acceleration, our closeness is no longer an issue as my arms lock tight, and we travel for a good hour before I dare loosen my grasp.
The cool air makes the bones of my exposed hands ache, while my head rests against his back, shielding my face from the whipping wind.
The back of his jacket is discoloured with age, but there are patches that remain cleaner, as if he has peeled off some sort of large patch or badge.
If it weren’t for the cold, I could fall asleep, while my tired eyes stick to the stars, which multiply as the miles pass below.
The pre-dawn gloom fades with the rising sun, bleeding into the sky with a lilac hue and revealing green hills, which soon turn into rocky terrain.
We steer off the asphalt, travelling along earthen roads, turning the journey turbulent as we snake into a mountain range.
We slow, and Atlas veers from the road, leading us into the dense woodland, where compact trees open up to reveal a small log cabin nestled within a cove, rocky earth rising behind it.
A stone chimney reaches up the side, and plum-painted shutters mask the windows.
As the men cut the engines, my ears ring with the silence—the humless, rattleless, static silence.
This must be the checkpoint Zeke mentioned.
My heart quickens when I hop from the bike, stretching my tightened, tender spine while fixated on the door.
He might be here. Joey could be behind that door, waiting for me.
Leon steps towards it, and with the sounds of the lock unfastening, I hold my breath as the small oaken door opens, but breathe again when I see that the inside is dark and unoccupied.
Joey cannot be here, and I’m not sure why the weighted disappointment that follows is a surprise.
I had been teasing my broken heart with the possibility of him escaping to join me on the other side, trying to rationalise him somehow arranging all this.
Inside, the stagnant air lies dormant, and it must have remained abandoned for some time.
Leon wastes no time opening the windows, and the daylight illuminates the swirling clouds of dust rising and crashing like smoky waves.
The room is sparsely furnished with a couple of worn-out sofas and an armchair covered in a bright yellow crocheted throw, with a small kitchen also occupying the space.
The wooden cabinets, oak table, and benches add a touch of homeyness to the otherwise bare room.
I nose around to find a small, damp-ridden bathroom, and a second room with a collection of six beds, but it’s difficult to imagine six bodies in this tight space.
It’s small, but I’m guessing we will only stop over to rest before moving on.
“You must be pretty tired,” Leon says as he rummages through the kitchen cabinets, unearthing a metallic coffee pot, and his face lights up.
“Yeah. My body’s crying,” I say, rubbing my fingers into my seizing neck.
“I bet.” He looks at his watch. “It’s almost six. You can either grab a nap, or I can make you a mega coffee. Smell this!” He twists the lid from a metal tub and thrusts it beneath my nose. The aroma of coffee beans smashes my senses like a slap to the face.
“Wow! That’s strong… I don’t know. What’s the plan?” I ask while Zeke and Atlas chuck the saddlebags in through the front door.
Leon creases his brow. “The plan?”
“Yes, the plan with me? What’s the timeline? When are we setting off from here? Where are we, anyway? Where are we going?”
His fingers drum the coffee jar as a flash of fret fills his face. “Yeah… About that… We can’t reveal anything to you.”
“Why?!”
“It’s the way we operate.”
“Operate?! Leon, this is my life. I’m a person, not a mission. How about trust? I trust you, and what? You don’t trust me back?”
“No, it’s not that. I can tell you we have to stay here for two weeks, at least. But that’s all I can say.”
“Two weeks?!” I throw my hands up, laughing in despair.
He lifts his palms as he says, “Look, I know you’ve had a tough time, and—”
The voice that I return is not my own, as if a dormant demon has possessed me and sprung forth to speak.
“You know nothing! Nothing!” I point my finger at him with every seething syllable.
“It must be nice to be a man! You ever had your spirit broken, Leon?! Forced into submission by a power-mad lunatic? No reason! Just because he could! Had all your earnings stolen?! Had drugs forced upon you?! Been touched by a slimy creep?! Been molested?! Had your heart broken—” I stop as my throat catches, pressing my fingers into my temples.
I swallow down whatever that outburst was, my voice small as I say, “Don’t say it was just a ‘tough time,’ because those are not the words for it! ”
Zeke stands in shock by the front door, with Atlas towering behind.
I find myself drained as I once again end up in the hands of men.
Only when I stop do I see that Leon’s face has dropped.
He holds the coffee can loosely, and his eyes turn glassy, on the cusp of tears.
I turn to leave for the bedroom, blushing with the realisation that I lost it.
“Everlee?!” Leon shouts, but I continue to walk away. “You’re right!”
I halt in the doorway.
“Come sit down. Sit with us, and I’ll explain everything.”