Chapter Nineteen #2
“I’m sorry you had to do that. It got ugly pretty quickly. When it’s us versus them, I’ll always choose us.”
I realise he’s completely missed the mark. “No, I get it. They would have killed us without a second thought.” Yeah, I probably should feel more strongly about killing someone, but he wasn’t the first man I’ve seen die.
He looks confused. “So, what’s the problem? For someone who helped save all our asses out there, you’re looking pretty bummed out.”
I smirk at the suggestion, knowing I merely caused a distraction while they did all the dirty work.
“Nothing makes men more uncomfortable than a crying woman. It’s an easy move. But it’s men like that…” I roll my eyes. “They crawl under your skin and stay there, even when they’ve gone.” I still remember how Krick made me shiver, and those marauders brought it all back.
“I thought you’d turned on us for a second there,” Atlas says in his baritone voice, stepping beside Leon.
“As if I could do that to the good guys.”
They both laugh, and the flash of Atlas’s chuckle is enough to lift my spirits.
Zeke asks with a curious lift of his brow, “Between taking me down the other day, handling that knife, and seizing that gun… Are you combat trained?”
“She took you down?” Leon asks with a surprised tone.
“Yeah, man. By the river the other night,” he says with a smile. “She pulled my feet out from under me, and I landed flat on my back.”
Three curious pairs of eyes turn to me with questioning pouts.
Leon says, “Everlee Clade, you sly fox. Who are you?”
A week beneath the sun has triplicated the freckles across my cheeks, bringing a little colour to my face.
When I search for my old cuts and bruises in my reflection, they have faded visibly, but I remember them well.
I hold my breath as I tiptoe through the cabin while Leon and Atlas sprawl and snore on the couches.
Since our encounter with the marauders, they’ve been taking turns keeping watch through the night, while I wish I could be more helpful.
As my hiding period is coming to an end, I realise it’s not as painful as I thought it would be, but that’s thanks to the guys, who have been pretty chill about babysitting me.
They have been treating me like a friend, and it’s made the entire process easier for us, but their suspicions regarding my life have not faded with time.
There have been many attempts to find out why a girl from the Wilds was taught to fight and handle weapons, but I have given them no clues, which only seems to augment their curiosity further.
I pace around the cabin grounds, staying close, but I am grateful for even this little freedom.
What I initially perceived as silence when I first arrived here has now been amplified by an orchestra of commotion: the wind whistling through the trees, the birds singing in a light harmonic chorus, and the squirrels above barking and scraping.
The concept of time has abandoned me out here.
I no longer fear the approaching hour of the Unity Siren, and the idea of never again hearing that anthem of hate is freedom in itself.
I sweep down, plucking a fistful of white and purple wildflowers that pepper this grassy clearing—an area we’ve been spending a substantial amount of time in.
The guys have been testing me in combat, enjoying discovering my skills, but my time in the city has severely depleted my strength.
With someone to train against, the confidence I had lost has seeped back into my mind and body.
They are strengthening me. My muscles burn after high-interval training, but there is improvement, while I can only outdo Atlas and Leon on cardio endurance, and Zeke sprints with me on bleep tests.
While strolling through the clearing, I nuzzle Joey’s band against my lip, enjoying its smoothness.
My steps squelch on the dewy ground, but my ears catch a different sound.
I slow my movements as the rustle comes again, and turn, pointing my ear towards the noise, when there’s activity in my peripheral.
A figure sprints towards me from behind, and I brace myself with bent knees, staying strong in my stance.
His arm comes over my right shoulder, but my palms slap to his forearm, pulling it down as I bend low and allow his momentum to flip him over my body.
His back whacks against the soft ground, and he coughs before breaking into a laugh.
I grin, offering my hand to help him up. “Nice try, Zeke.”
He waves away my offer and pulls his knees up, rolling back like a coiled spring and releasing with a sweeping jump to his feet. He throws his arms in the air, clapping at his own trick.
“Impressive, huh? Are they still asleep?” he asks, dusting the mossy clumps from his jeans.
“Yeah. They were when I left. Shall I go wake them?”
“Yeah. I need Atlas to give me a hand with tuning the bikes up.” He slicks his hair back into position.
“Yeah. No problem. Can I watch?”
“You want to learn about bikes?” He grows excited as we head back to the cabin.
“Absolutely. Who knows? I might get a bike one day.”
He rubs his palms together. “Oh, man, that would be so cool! We can go—” He stops short, and his smile softens.
“Go where?” I ask, waiting for him to continue.
“Nah, it’s okay. I just remembered we’ve got to give you back at some point. That’s going to suck.”
The feeling is mutual, since I have grown weirdly comfortable with the trio in the short time I have known them.
My mind wanders as I approach the cabin door, while Zeke heads to the shed to pull the bikes out.
The door is ajar, and I startle still at the raised voices of Leon and Atlas sniping within.
I hang back, not wanting to intrude, but I can’t help but overhear as I stare into the spiralled woodgrain of the door.
Atlas says, “I’m not going to get into it, but you’re too close, man.”
“Look, I know what I’m doing,” Leon replies shortly. “We can’t all stay locked up like you.”
“This isn’t about me. You’re going to get your head messed up all over again.”
“This isn’t even the same situation!”
“This is exactly the same as Violet! Except this time, you’re here to save her.”
“Fuck you, throwing that shit in my face!” Leon says, his temper escalating.
I look around, wondering if I should shout Zeke over.
“Leon, no! You know what I mean.” Atlas sighs amidst the stomping. “Man! Don’t go!”
Leon paces towards the door, and I slink out of sight as the door swings open, slamming against the wall. He stomps towards the clearing, struggling to open the tobacco tin in his frustrated state.
For a moment, I’m unsure of where to go.
Atlas doesn’t need my help, and whatever’s happening with Leon sounds like I might be the cause.
I should probably stay out of the way with Zeke, but I look at Leon in the distance with slumped shoulders and a low-hanging head.
My keeper. He’s been so protective and patient with me.
As I draw near, his head flicks back, and I say, “Hey? … Leon, are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” he says with his face fixed forward, rapidly puffing on his cigarette while drumming his fingers by his side. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
“I heard you and Atlas yelling. I can’t stop being an issue if I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“You heard us?” he asks, glancing at me.
“Yeah. I didn’t mean to, and I don’t know what it was about, but I don’t want to get in the way.”
“You’re not in the way. It’s … a disagreement. That’s all.” He faces forward again.
I turn to leave, but something pulls me back. Already feeling awkward about being the subject of their fallout, I decide to go ahead with my question.
“Who’s Violet?”
He stops inhaling his cigarette, lowers it, and lets the smoke fall from his mouth.
“Violet? She was my little sister.” His sorrowful gaze is still.
“She was on her Independence Interval, working at a bar. Just … like you. She was so excited about it, but then … she met a guy … and fell in love. Just like you.” He tucks his hand in his pocket, puffing away.
“I went to visit her, and she told me all about him. I offered to help her get out. I should have brought her home that day. Anyway, she wouldn’t leave without him.
They both got caught trying to run away.
Rangers beat him to death in the street in front of her.
” His eyes shift as if losing focus, perhaps refocusing on a memory.
“When I got back to visit her, she was hooked on Kyte. Gaunt. Yellow. Vacant. She didn’t even look like my sister anymore.
She was giving up on living, and then she did… She gave up. I didn’t save her.”
His lashes shudder with his widened eyes, and he looks away.
A gulp travels down my throat, burning in my chest as I process his story.
Atlas was right. How tragic I believed my story to be.
Although separated, Joey and I—I assume—are still alive.
Yet Leon stands before me, and I know only a fraction of the guilt he bears.
I wrap my arms around him, planting my head into his smoky chest.
“I’m so sorry, Leon,” are the only words I can think of.
He wraps his arms around me and sniffles. “Thanks, kid.” He pulls away, rubbing under his eyes.
I point at the cigarette burning between his fingers. “You know, smoking really is bad for you. You’ve got to start looking after yourself, because I actually do worry about you. Truly.”
He squeezes a smile and drops the unfinished cigarette beneath his boot, twisting it into the mossy ground.
But something whips between the trees, catching my attention. I turn to see it bound into the clearing beside me and Leon. His tail is wagging—he’s pleased to see us. Boomer, the dog, has found us.
Shit.