Wildfire (Book 1): Leap of Faith

by Bailey, Emily

  The snapper at the window was making a racket dragging its face across the window. The glass was screeching, which is fair, I would be too. The noise ended abruptly as it moved away from the window and off the porch.

  ‘How long do they take to move on, generally’ the other one enquired.

  I sighed ‘it could be hours, it depends, sometimes you get lucky and they’ll head to another noise nearby’.

  I looked over at the two suits, they did not look like they had lived here for long. They were lacking the worn in look, tanned but not that tanned. They looked relatively well rested and their suits looked brand new compared to my worn in clothes.

  I stared at Deveraux, he’s the chattier one of the two, time for answers.

  ‘No offence guys, but who the fuck are you?’ I said with raised eyebrows and an inquisitive stare.

  Deveraux answered simply, ‘we are here for you’.

  What?

  ‘So, Ben just went out and brought two special agents through a parallel universe to take me where? Whatever it is that you want I’m not doing it’, there’s no way that they are here just to help Ben, they want something from me. Unlucky for them, I’m fresh out of fucks today.

  I stood up taller and prepared myself for a fight. They could try to forcibly take me with them and I was not about to let that happen. Deveraux saw my change in stance and took a step back, he wasn’t doing it out of fear.

  ‘Whatever happened to start this will happen in our universe. We won’t be able to find out what exactly caused it. We don’t know if it was sabotage, an accident or a virus mutated. What we do know is that this world failed to prevent it or stop it spreading. We need to know how the armies of the living failed in stopping the end the world. We need your help; you have valuable information. Something that money can’t buy.’ He cocked his head to the side and wore a questioning look ‘or have you just been hiding the entire time and letting others sort out your problems’ he was goading me alright; he dangled the line to see if I would bite. I wouldn’t just fucking bite I would rip his arm off.

  They want my help, mine! My feelings toward the authorities had hit rock bottom some time ago. With or without help I couldn’t see how they would succeed. I saw the army attack a building filled with living people with gunfire. They had a breakout on the upper floors and to contain it, they locked the doors instead of evacuating the healthy and shot at the whole building. There were people screaming at the doors, begging for someone to open them, then behind that you could hear the snarling of the snappers. The screams went from desperate to agonising pain. I watched hiding from behind a car and then got out of there as fast as I could.

  These are the people that I would have to explain how to change. I shouldn’t have to tell people not to shoot at innocent people.

  ’Me? You want me? I’m sure that you could find some far more qualified people for the job, I recommend a team of psychologists to help you weed out the psychopaths from the good. The team really let you down here’.

  Once again, my go to emotion of the last few weeks was brimming to the surface. Anger.

  The other one piped up this time ‘Peyton, that may be so. But none of them have experience of exactly the same event. Your knowledge could help us prevent it or at the very least control it. This world would change people and for the most part not in any good way. It isn’t normal to become accustomed to seeing the dead roam the streets.’ He pointed over to Ben ‘but your friend here has put himself on the line and guaranteed that you will come through for him and for us’.

  Well that did it, with as much venom in a whisper as I could muster ‘I’m going to tackle your points individually. One, I have experience? I never applied for a job with you, my experiences are something that happened to me not a fucking degree. Two, you think that I am not fucked up enough that I could help you. Don’t fucking believe that! Three, Ben could not have any idea who I am anymore or what I am capable of. Ben guaranteed that he would never abandon me in another world. Yet here we fucking are! His guarantees mean nothing! Also, who said I have enough fucks left to help you out! I had a plan today and you three have fucked it all up!’. My heart was beating out of my chest with rage. Also, I think that I am genuinely mourning the loss of my bullet.

  Ben stepped in front of me ‘Peyton, I’m so sorry, so so sorry. I don’t know how to show you just how sorry I am that you were left behind. It’s killing me to see that look in your eyes, but I’m here and I’m not leaving without you. So, if you want to stay here, then that’s fine. I’ll send back Deveraux and Daniels and I’ll stay’.

  That floored me, Ben looked like he meant it. I could feel my rage dissipating somewhat. As angry as I am that I was left here, I felt a pang of sympathy for Ben, he probably thought that he had sentenced me to death. As much as I want to whole heartedly blame him for leaving me, my mind keeps rolling back to the device malfunctioning and sending him back. If the shoe was on the other foot, I would be beside myself.

  As immature and cavalier he can be, he is not heartless and uncaring. I really want to keep hold of my anger, but it is slipping away, for now at least. That scares me, what emotion will replace it? My plan can wait for now, I don’t have the bullet anymore anyway. Sadness was creeping in, in the wake of the anger. I sucked in my stubbornness and threw my arms around Ben. He hugged me back with intensity. I felt good, it felt good to forgive. Anger is not an emotion that I used to be comfortable with. It was okay when I was on my own, if anything it kept me motivated to keep moving and not just give up. This morning when I ran out of steam, I was left with an overwhelming urge to use my last bullet. Bens arrival came at the right time.

  The hug went on for some time and when we pulled away, I felt like I had a friend again. It was a good feeling. Ben looked at me with kindness and gratefulness for being forgiven so easily. Living in such close quarters with my family has taught me to forgive quickly, otherwise it resulted in some quite serious fights. I can’t hold on to my resentment for long, well not for this anyway. There is a process of forgiveness and punishment. Time for part two. I gave Ben a genuine smile and then pulled my arm back and punched him square in the jaw. He went straight down. It hurt him. Good. He was writhing on the floor clutching his jaw and making all the right ‘argh’ sounds. His look of confusion and hurt evaporated the last strings of anger towards him.

  ‘I forgive you. Now. Although bear in mind Ben, that if you fuck me over again, I’ll do a lot more than punch you in the face. Got it? I said in a sing song voice.

  ‘Yeah, err yes Peyton’ he ground out.

  ‘Good boy’ I chirped and patted him on the head.

  ‘Ben you left me here for three years’ I put my hand up to stop him interrupting ‘I don’t want to hit you anymore, I thought that I would get that out of the way early. But I will torture you a little bit. It would be rude not to’ I said with an evil smile.

  For the first time in weeks I felt good, I had settled a years old problem with my oldest friend. A weight had been lifted off my shoulder, my family was right, forgiveness is a gift for all involved.

  ‘That doesn’t mean that I will come with you or help you’

  I scanned the room; I don’t think that they expected that.

  ‘If you came two years ago it would have been a rescue, but now? This is my home. I don’t think I can go back to my old life, I’m a different person now. I hate people with a passion and the idea of going back to a world with filled with them fills me with dread.’ I said with a level of politeness that I wouldn’t have expected from myself.

  I made eye contact with Deveraux who was smiling at me, it wasn’t a sweet smile or an evil smile. It had a smugness to it… looks like I’m punching two people today. Anger levels rising.

  He replied ‘I have spent the last month searching for you in this barren dead world, I’m happy with who I found and I want you to come back with me. Sorry, let me re-phrase, you are coming back with me. You don’t have to see many people until you’re r
eady and arrangements can be made for you to start anew. But like it or not you’re coming back with me’ he commanded.

  I funneled all my anger into an intense stare; which the bastard met with a smile. Well, I didn’t need any more invitation than that. I went for the jaw. He blocked my jab and grabbed my arm pulling me forward. I used my forward momentum and shoved my knee up into his abdomen at the last second. That elicited a swear and an ‘oomph’, now to finish him off with an elbow to the face. He recovered quickly and blocked the elbow, slid his leg under mine and using his weight pushed us to the ground.

  ‘You fucking asshole!’ I glared at him.

  A glance to the side and I saw the other one say something to Ben and they left the room.

  He had me pinned on the floor underneath him and was trying to get hold of my hands to stop hitting him. I got a few decent hits to his side, which elicited more swearing. Unfortunately, I then made an error and he had both my hands pinned above my head in seconds. I was fully stretched out underneath him and for a moment I felt incredibly vulnerable. I was pissed at myself, I had neglected my drills and I made a sloppy mistake, I’m better than that.

  Deveraux must have seen the panic behind my eyes as his grip loosened and he whispered ‘calm down Peyton’. The smugness was gone and replaced with a hint of guilt ‘please calm down, I apologize for how I spoke’ he was looking into my eyes and I could see the sincerity.

  ‘I’m used to getting my own way and I don’t react well to being refused. A lot is riding on this and the pressure is intense, I will endeavor to control myself, with you’, he was so close his breath was washing over my skin.

  He meant it.

  ‘I’m sorry for trying to punch you in the face and for succeeding at kneeing you in the side, mostly’ I smirked. ‘But please let me go’ I pleaded.

  My fears were being contained for now, but I was slowly losing my grip on them. I was terrified of looking weak in front of another. Weakness will get you killed in this world. Deveraux let go straightaway and climbed off me, he held out a hand to help me up.

  ‘You can fight’ if I wasn’t mistaken, I would say he sounded proud, ‘it is very rare that someone is able to land a hit on me’, I think that I even heard a trace of awe.

  My ego was officially stroked, ‘there was someone in our family, err group, who was SWAT trained. He regularly put me through my paces and was never delicate about it’

  I pointed to the scar on my hairline and smiled.

  He gasped at that and looked more shocked than amused, bordering on angry.

  ‘It’s okay’ I cajoled, ‘I gave as good as I got’, I smiled but he still didn’t look appeased.

  I felt exhausted, it has been a long rollercoaster of emotions and my head is starting to pound. The rum probably isn’t helping. ‘I’m going to bed; I’ll see you in the morning’ I turned towards the stairs.

  ‘Think about it overnight, then come with me, us, tomorrow’ he said quietly. I nodded and turned back towards the stairs.

  Chapter Three

  As usual I slept badly. My dreams are just movie repeats of the bad bits of my snapper land experience. I awakened panting and trembling. Last nights screening was of the death of my longest snapper land friend. We were climbing up a fire escape and I was up ahead, she was behind. I turned when I heard her scream, she had lost her grip on the metal ladder and had fallen into the reach of the snappers. She looked up at me with her eyes desperately wide in fear, she was scrambling to climb back up. A snapper sunk its teeth into her leg before she was able to get out of reach an before I could climb back down to her. She screamed in pain and then fell back into the crowd of the dead. They tore her apart while I watched from above. My arms and legs were weak with shock and I was terrified of falling and joining her. Part of me wanted to. I couldn’t bear that I was alive and she wasn’t, we were on the same goddamn ladder!

  In my dream I couldn’t force my arms or legs to move and it was agony holding myself to the ladder. Eventually the pain became too much and I fell. That is where I woke up. For a moment I was confused of my surroundings. Sleeping in a different house each night has its drawbacks. Then the events of yesterday came flooding back and one question was at the forefront of my mind, do I go or not? Well, not entirely accurate. Another question was creeping just ahead, does this house have any food? I left the not so relaxing sanctuary of the small bedroom and as quietly as I could I crept downstairs. I don’t think a snapper would hear a stair creak from outside, but it seems so much louder in a quiet house that it just leads to anxiety. I don’t need any more of that, so I step quietly.

  I found the rum on the kitchen counter yesterday and in my state of mind I didn’t give one thought to food. The contents of the kitchen cabinets were a mystery. With only moonlight available to light the room I did my best to conduct as thorough search as I could. It didn’t take long, it was empty. Not even a can of beans was left. Sighing in disappointment I headed back upstairs, taking care not to creak any boards. My eyes were focused on the floor of the landing, so it came as a bit of a surprise when I was grabbed by the throat and pushed up against the wall. Something sharp was held against my throat, hard enough to draw blood and I was looking into the dark eyes of Deveraux.

  After a split second his eyes widened, his knife wielding hand dropped and the other went into his hair.

  ‘Shit, Peyton, I didn’t realise that it was you. I thought someone had broken in’ he looked mortified.

  ‘Did I hurt you?’, his hair holding hand moved to my throat, inspecting the cut.

  Light brushes checked the damage, far lighter than I could have expected from the muscle machine that was Deveraux.

  ‘I’m fine’ I started to breathe again.

  ‘I mean you scared the shit out of me, but I’m okay. Promise’ to prove my point I gave him a double thumbs up.

  No smile, not even a twitch from him. He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room next door to mine. I would like to say that I wasn’t nervous about being alone in a room with a man that I barely know, I have my ‘could deal with anything in snapper land pride’. But inside my heart was thumping wildly.

  Deveraux was searching through his bag, making too much noise for my liking. I suppose I have gotten too used to being alone, I never go above my pre-agreed noise levels. He pulled out a bandage and a bottle of something.

  ‘It’s fine, honestly. You don’t have to do…’ I was interrupted by Deveraux holding my chin while he gently dabbed at the cut.

  My hands moved to his arms and at least I felt that I had a slither of control.

  It stung, quite a bit. He had definitely put something on that bandage. Ever strong and ever stubborn I refused to show pain. In snapper land you never show weakness.

  He wore a look of concern and guilt, ‘I’m sorry Peyton’.

  ‘Its’ been a day of apologies hasn’t it? Deveraux it’s okay, I mean it. If it had been a raging asshole with an axe, then you wouldn’t be feeling bad right now. You didn’t knife me, so forgiven. Okay?’.

  I’m not sure that I like that my mood seems to be affected by others. Living on your own is simpler. Less happy, but simpler.

  ‘Deveraux is far too impersonal, call me Rafe’.

  Oh my, he has a name.

  ‘Ah, so it’s a reward? You didn’t threaten Ben with a knife, so he doesn’t know your name?’ I teased.

  It worked I got a smile this time.

  ‘No, Ben doesn’t know my name because I don’t like him’.

  ‘But you like me?’

  ‘Yes’.

  Such a simple statement, but it stopped my breathing. Just for a second. As Rafe had his fingers on my throat at the time, I’m pretty sure that he noticed. I believe I just given away a weakness of mine. His hand is still on my chin, but I can feel his thumb move ever so slightly in a caress. His fingers on my throat are doing the same.

  My whole body is waking up and I can feel each movement no matter how small. We are stood so close
and I can feel his breath brush against my cheek. I want to kiss him, but equally I’m terrified. I’m focusing all my energy into breathing that I have no space left to think about it. Then Rafe did something that I didn’t expect, he kissed me on my forehead and then wrapped his arms around me into a tight embrace. At first, I was tense, but slowly I relaxed into it. My arms came up and wrapped around his waist. With his head resting on mine he slowly swayed.

  Without my prior knowledge or consent, my eyes filled with tears. Desperately I tried to keep them at bay, I don’t know Rafe well enough to trust him to a crying hug.

  ‘It’s okay Peyton, I’ve got you’ he whispered in my ear.

  Well that did it. Much to my horror the tears fell and they were followed by many more. My nose was completely blocked, no air in or out of that thing. Rafe swayed us the whole time, he didn’t let go. I cried for the life I lost, the family I lost… twice. I cried for all the times I was abducted by truly horrific people and I cried for the times that it ended badly. When the tears finally stopped, I realized that I had never mourned my losses, or dealt with the situations that I have been in.

  Every time I would get up and dust myself off, use anger if required and stay strong. I realized that all the tears I just spilt were all the tears that I successfully held at bay. There was no time to mourn in snapper land, there was always a life-threatening situation to deal with, debilitating thirst or starving hunger.

  ‘I err, I didn’t mean to do that’ I mumbled into his shirt.

  ‘I know’ he chuckled sadly. ‘I can see sadness in people Peyton and I saw it in you’.

  Not knowing how to respond I settled with nodding. So far Rafe has passed the trust test, so well in fact that I’m not ready to move away. He carried on swaying and I hugged my arms tighter around him. It has been a while since I have enjoyed the comfort of another human being. Alcohol has been my only friend of late.

  Eventually I tore myself out of his arms and for a moment I felt the loss of my anchor.