Chapter 15
The night brought on a restless meditation.
Kate lay awake for hours, listening to the sound of Nick’s deep inhales and soft exhales, steeping herself in rage until she wore it like armor.
The sun had long set, and night blanketed the earth in a discrete, comforting veil. Finally, the time felt right.
Kate slid out of bed with small, balanced movements. Once her feet touched the ground, she approached Nick’s dresser and dipped her hands into his backpack. Her hand emerged holding Nick’s hunting knife, and she tiptoed out of the room.
The fort at night reminded her of a concert venue after a show.
The essence of energies and human occupation still lingered, phantom voices and interactions, and this made the brick and mortar spaces appear emptier.
The moon illuminated places that the emergency lighting did not, a mixture of yellow hues washing over the area.
Kate’s footsteps through the square echoed as though she were walking through a damp cave; her footfalls resounded and bounced off the nearby buildings. Internally, she reassured herself that her sounds were not as loud as they seemed.
When Kate arrived outside of Norman’s barracks, she paused. Her chest filled up with a deep breath, conjuring the confidence needed for her next move. Kate squeezed the hunting knife in her palm, committing herself to what was to come.
As Kate took a step forward and prepared to enter the building, a hand grabbed her shoulder.
She was spun around and pushed against the wall.
She raised the hunting knife and thrust it toward her attacker, but a powerful hand caught her wrist. The point of the blade rested against the man’s chest. Kate’s eyes shot up to see Nick staring down at her, bewildered.
“What the hell are you doing?” Nick questioned in a harsh whisper.
He eased his grip on Kate’s arm, and she lowered the knife.
Her mouth opened, ready to spin some tale that would explain why she was out here at night with a weapon.
Each idea she tried to formulate fell short of making sense. So, she closed her mouth.
“Kate, what are you doing?” Nick asked again. Still, she said nothing. “I see. We keep secrets from each other now.”
Kate’s gaze fell away. Nick gripped her chin and tilted it upward, his fingers pulsing with irritation. It was clear to him that there was a problem, and he had taken on the role of enduring Kate’s issues alongside her. Except she was pleading the fifth, refusing to let him in.
When Nick’s eyes met Kate’s, he was reminded of when they first met—when those devastating storms raged in her eyes, trying to find the balance between trust and survival. Nick sighed, relenting once more to this woman who had his heart in a chokehold.
“Fine. You don’t have to tell me shit. You want to hurt someone, threaten them, fucking kill them.
I don’t need to know. But you need a better plan.
What if they fight back and you get hurt?
What if they kill you? Or say you’re successful, but you get caught.
In the best-case scenario, these people lock you up.
Worst case, they just put a bullet in your head.
So, let’s go home and talk about what you want to do.
Let me help you. Hell, I’ll do it for you. ”
Rage built up in Kate’s chest, coursing through her body until it burned her throat.
“No,” Kate spat. “You are not going to take this from me.” Kate’s desperate words slipped between teeth clenched with hatred. Nick studied her face, assessed her fury, and his eyes grew wide.
“Is he from before? A friend of Connor’s?
” Nick asked, taking a step closer to Kate as though his proximity could procure answers.
Every muscle in Nick’s body was tense, tight with anger and urging him to action.
Kate blinked tears from her eyes and looked away.
Nick realized he was clutching her wrist so tightly that his knuckles ached.
He dropped her wrist and stepped backward, closing his eyes.
Nick blew out a breath, steadying himself. “Baby, why wouldn’t you tell me?”
Norman’s words replayed in Kate’s head, and a river of tears cut a path down her cheeks. “Because he’s going to say things about the past. Things he did to me. I don’t want those things in your head.”
“Kate.” Nick pulled her into his chest, holding on to her in a tight hug.
“I’m aware of your past. Not every detail, but I know what happened.
Everything I need to know about who you are as a person, I learned from being with you.
From running through the woods from the Infected, picking glass out of my skin, drinking and listening to metal, swimming in the harbor—those are the things that define who you are to me.
The things those men did, they don’t make up who you are. ”
The hand empty of weapons clutched Nick’s shirt as Kate sobbed into his chest. He kissed the top of her head and ran a hand down her back.
“We’ll come up with a way to deal with this—together,” Nick said. Kate nodded, and they walked hand in hand back to their barracks.