by Liahona West
“Traitor.”
“Here,” Bannack handed Eloise the wrapped package before he scooped Bali up and began whispering to her. The scene was comical. A huge, six-foot-two man flirting with a bald cat. He looked up at Eloise through his eyelashes, smiled, and said, “Happy twenty-first.”
Eloise had to remember to shut her mouth. She stared at the present, suddenly unable to open it, and blinked.
How did he remember?
“Why?” She asked.
“Why not?”
“Well, because…” She looked at Bannack, her mind still fumbling over itself trying to understand. To have someone she hadn’t seen for a decade remember her birthday made her heart flutter.
Eloise opened the gift to reveal a beautifully carved statuette, a little bigger than her hand, of Ada as a child holding kitten Bali in her arms. Eloise’s eyes misted. She had no pictures of Ada, no journal entries, nothing to fuel her mental memory of her sister, and Bannack had captured her essence perfectly. Mischievous eyes stared at Eloise, her signature half grin, bone straight hair, and turned in toes completing the look.
“Oh my God…” A mixture of emotions stung her nose. Love for Ada, gratitude for the precious gift, sadness she could never touch her sister again. Eloise sank into her chair, sniffling and rubbing the tears from her eyes. “Thank you. It’s so special. You made this?”
Bannack nodded. “I do a lot of carving. Keeps me sane.”
“Well, I love it.”
“You’re welcome.”
She looked at Bannack, aware of a growing warmth in her body, and she cleared her throat. “Do you want a tour of the Compound? I’m not sure how long you plan on visiting, but since you’re here…”
He smiled, a small one, but it still made her heart skip.
What is it with that smile of his?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bannack
Eloise and Bannack walked past schoolrooms converted into living quarters years ago, unlit torches secured to the walls, and several areas with farming tools. He moved for a group of people to pass, all carrying wicker baskets stocked with various produce and items.
“What are they doing?” He jogged forward. For someone so small, she sure had a brisk walking speed. If he didn’t pay attention, she probably would leave him stranded.
“They’re carrying wheat kernels to be ground up to make bread and other things. We keep the grain stored in barrels in the kitchens when the wheat can’t be harvested. It sucks having to knead for hours, but we all pitch in somehow.”
“No wonder your arms are so buff.”
Eloise stared sideways at him and her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Remind me to challenge you to an arm-wrestling contest later.”
The unmistakable scent of fresh bread wafted from a large common room area with many people gathered around pots of pounding tools. Others pushed rhythmically into containers, their hands covered in sticky, brown dough. They laughed and conversed with one another, pausing to take water from people walking through the crowd. Bannack took a long drink from the boy who offered him some.
He took a moment to glance around the hallway. Remnants of the old high school were apparent in the bathroom sign still on the wall, a peeling pop art mural of a woman crying, and a hallway with many classrooms. In all of his travels, he had never been in a place that felt so comfortable. Everyone worked together like machinery, laughing, talking, and living life in sync. He heard children laugh far away somewhere and it warmed his heart.
Damn. It’s gonna be hard to leave.
But he had to. He didn’t belong anywhere.
“I’ve never been so hungry for bread in my entire life,” Bannack said and inhaled deeply, his nose filling with the robust scent. It reminded him of home.
Eloise laughed. “Come on. I want to introduce you to Soora. She should be this way.”
They continued down the hallway. On one side, the wall fell away to reveal a floor to ceiling window. Green wheat filled a large part of the courtyard and many people, young and old, worked in the stalks, bending over, cutting, binding, and stacking the tares. Other areas teemed with vegetables he hadn’t seen since Before. Beets, spinach, carrots, brussels sprouts, and various fruit trees made the entire scene look like something out of a fairy tale. They were farmers and their way of living modest, but to Bannack they lived like kings.
Dumfounded, he turned to Eloise. “Where did you find the seeds?”
“The clans,” she said as she smiled. “There are five of them and every few months, their scouts return with tons of stuff from places as far south as California. They bring not only seeds and medicines, but weapons and livestock too. Sibyl takes a group of ten people with her when the scouts return to trade what we’ve grown for more supplies we may need. It’s how I got my knives, too.”
She surprised him more and more.
She lives in paradise. Second, she owns knives? How many knives? Does she mean food prep knives or actual kill-you-swiftly knives?
“Does everyone know how to fight here?”
They stood in the center of a sunbeam coming through a tall window. Behind Eloise waited a series of broad stairs, in two groups of three, leading down to a platform with doors on both sides, one leading outside and the other into another room. A man carrying a crate of chicks over his shoulder passed by Eloise and Bannack. The birds peeped nervously.
“Goodness, no,” she chuckled. “It’s me and about a hundred other people called Sentinels, split into different groups. Someone has to protect this place. We don’t need much more because not many people visit looking for trouble. Either that or,” a roguish grin spread across Eloise’s face, “they’re terrified of us.”
Eloise bounced down the steps and through a set of open doors. Bannack followed. The room inside was dim, lit by torches and lanterns on tables. To call it a room was an understatement. It was a theater, Bannack realized as his eyes adjusted, with two sections of seats and a large aisle between them. The stage at the front was painted black and the heavy, frayed, velvet curtains were pulled back. The entire place must have been magnificent when in use.
Eloise embraced a woman with a shaved head and sunflower tattoo on her scalp who had been speaking with someone, perhaps an assistant by the looks of the bandages they carried in their arms. The woman smiled and whispered something, concern furrowing her eyebrows. After Eloise responded, the woman nodded, then hugged her again.
“Bannack,” Eloise said as she gestured for Bannack to approach. “This is Soora. She’s the head doctor and my adoptive mom.” Eloise gestured to Bannack. “This is Bannack Owusu. He’s staying for a visit.”
With Eloise’s arm around her waist, Soora extended her hand toward Bannack. “Welcome to the Compound,” she said. “I hope you find our community welcoming.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I do. It is quite impressive.”
Soora smiled. “I appreciate that. We’ve worked tirelessly these seven years to build a sustainable, safe place for all. How long will you be staying?”
He looked at Eloise then back to Soora, temptation pulling at him. “Not long.”
“Well, stay as long as you need. It’s good to meet you, Bannack Owusu.”
Soora turned and exited the stage, two people trailing her.
“Come on. We need to find Mason.”
So many people. He wasn’t used to meeting the amount of people Eloise was introducing him to. He felt a bit like a trick pony being carted around to show off and it made him shiver.
“Hey, Eloise?” Bannack asked as she held the door open for him. “Is this going to take long? I have to get back.”
“Not long.”
Their walk brought them clear across the campus to what Bannack recognized as a football field settled inside a track. The rusted home team bleachers remained intact as people clustered together, sifting through shallow woven baskets, organizing produce, and tossing unwanted plant byproducts. Many other people p
icked through tall vegetable plants, piling bunches of produce into shallow baskets.
“This is incredible,” Bannack said as he took in the well-organized operation.
Smiling, Eloise nudged Bannack’s ribs. “Mason’s doing. He’s turned this whole place into a bit of a farm. Look.”
Bannack followed where Eloise pointed and saw a small pasture on the second half of the football field where four horses grazed amidst a flock of chickens. A red necked rooster with long green tail feathers strutted about his ladies, clucking proudly. Three cages on stilts sat against the right side of the pasture and housed rabbits. A little boy in a plaid red jacket held the top of one cage open, feeding vegetable scraps to a grey bunny that looked almost as heavy as him.
“This is incredible.”
“You said that already.”
Bannack chuckled. “It deserves being repeated.”
Tucked away near the forest line close to the horses, was a small group of people lined up. Eloise jogged toward them and Bannack followed, a stocky man with his hands clasped behind his back coming into view.
The stocky man turned at Eloise’s call, then smiled.
“Bannack Owusu,” Eloise said as Bannack joined them. “Bannack, this is Mason. Head of the Compound.”
“Sir.” Bannack shook Mason’s hand then gave a short nod.
“So, you’re the one who helped Eloise.” Mason watched Bannack. “Thank you.”
Trying to figure out if Mason was suspicious of him or just a gruff man-made Bannack’s head ache. His chest had been growing heavier ever since meeting Soora. Now it was turning a bit painful.
“You’re welcome, sir.”
Without another word, Mason turned back to his class, and Bannack looked at Eloise. He asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
She chuckled. “No. Mason’s shy around new people. He’ll warm up to you.”
“Now,” Mason’s voice rose above the chatter of the group he was teaching, “who can tell me the quickest way to dispatch or subdue an attacker?”
Intrigued, Bannack watched the group fumble through wrong answers. Some mentioned going for the knees, others the eyes, but Mason shook his head.
“These are super green trainees,” Eloise explained. “They’re a month into their training and will be added to our Sentinel roster in a couple years. Especially now since Joy’s become a problem.”
His attention adjusted completely on her. “What is going on?”
Eloise relayed Joy’s visit and the details about Mason and Joy’s agreement. “We’re doing our best to watch her facility and any activity, and nothing’s happening yet, but once Seth gets closer to dying, I think we’re going to have a big problem.”
“I ask again,” Mason’s voice boomed into the air, “what is the quickest way to dispatch an attacker?”
“Go for the jaw,” one trainee called out.
“Okay. And how do you get close enough?”
The trainee grew quiet, thinking. “My dad just goes for it.”
Bannack looked at the kid. He stood with his legs shoulder width apart and his chin tilted. Mason stood in front of him, an eyebrow raised.
“You are aware,” Mason said, “‘just going for it’ isn’t an appropriate response.”
“It’s worked pretty well for him, so why not?”
Mason scoffed. “Your dad is a mixed-martial arts master who I’ve personally fought. I can assure you, he doesn’t ‘just go for it,’ Emille.”
The kid, Emille, blinked at Mason, which made Bannack smile. His interest piqued with the turnout of their conversation, and judging by Mason’s reactions and body language, Emille was about to be proven wrong on many accounts.
“Sir, with all due respect,” Emille walked to the front of the class, “I can go for the jaw or the knees with no problem.”
“Really?” Bannack spoke up and everyone looked at him. He closed his mouth, unsure of the attention on him but continued talking despite his concern. “You speak with the confidence of someone highly trained. Are you sure you can subdue an assailant by focusing on the jaw only?”
“I know I can. My dad taught me everything I know.” Emille crossed his arms.
“Which is why you are here. In a fighting class.” Bannack raised his eyebrow and for the first time, he saw Emille falter in his assurance. He smiled. A flurry of excitement went through his torso. He looked at Mason. “May I?” And Mason nodded. Bannack turned to Emille. “One way to stop an attacker is to use your shoulder and hips to pin them. Attacking without strategy is for amateurs.”
Emille blustered at the word ‘amateur,’ exactly as he expected, then stomped toward Bannack, hands out.
Bannack slapped Emille’s wrists out of the way. The boy used his head. Bannack jerked his elbow into Emille’s face, grabbed his shoulder, and lifted his arm. Three punches to his ribcage. Emille’s grunts fueled a fire Bannack didn’t want lit, so he shifted his hips, tripped the kid, and pinned his arm. Bannack held Emille down.
He whispered. “Listen, you don’t want to get into close range if you cannot end the fight. I could have easily decorated your face. You did not even touch me while I put you on the ground. Mason is your teacher. Heed his words.”
Emille, eyes wide and body frozen, nodded.
“Impressive,” Mason said when Bannack joined him and Eloise.
“I’m so glad that wasn’t me.” Eloise chuckled and eyed Emille as he nursed his ego. “I would’ve landed at least a few hits on you.”
Bannack chuckled. “Sure.”
She smiled sideways at him.
“Ever consider joining the Sentinels?” Mason asked Bannack.
Bannack took a half-step back. “Oh…uh…I am not sure if I would fit well.”
He didn’t even know if he could handle being a Sentinel. If the fight with Emille moments ago made him struggle with going too far, he worried if he’d be able to resist when in a real-life situation.
“I watched you take down Emille in seconds,” Mason said. “We could use more people with your skill set.”
“I mean no offense, sir, but you know nothing of me or my background.”
“That’s a valid point,” Eloise chimed in.
Mason gave her a sideways stare. “You’re correct. I know nothing of you. However, our Compound is open to all and although we’ve had issues in the past, I am willing to trust you until you prove me wrong.”
What is going on with people this week? First Tamra and now Mason. I don’t understand this kindness.
“Thank you, sir.”
I almost didn’t come here at all.
He so desperately wanted to belong. It drove him mad.
“I could stay for a little while. Do you have room?”
Mason’s smile widened. “We do. Follow me.”
Eloise ran to catch up. “Does this mean you’re staying?”
“Most likely.”
“I thought you wanted to travel. Do the lone wolf thing.”
“I did but since the plan to wipe my memories did not work, I need a backup.” Although this was the reason he gave Eloise—and he hoped it was enough for her to stop questioning him further—it wasn’t the whole truth. Honestly, being alone had taken its toll. He was lonely, and he hoped—wished beyond belief— that being in the Compound would ease his misery.
Eloise crossed her arms. “Are you going to keep rubbing that in?”
Leaning closer, Bannack forced his face to be neutral and shrugged. “Only until you apologize.”
“Excuse me! It wasn’t my choice for you to hel—” Her face scrunched up. “Oh. You’re kidding. Jerk.”
Bannack chuckled and held the door open for Eloise. “Still just as dense as when we were kids, I see.”
“You know what. You can take your pie hole and shut it.”
Bannack’s laugh echoed through the hallway.
“Here we are.” Mason gestured to a room on the first floor.
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Bannack walked in. A row of tall windows, one boarded up, sat on the far end of the room. To his right was a pile as high as the ceiling of old, rusted desks with attached chairs, and through them he could see the white of the board. A teacher had once written on it. The only furniture in the room was a loud, creaky bed frame with a mattress, and Bannack sat on it, scanning the side of the room with the door. Graffiti was on the wall and he smiled at the mural of a person in a gas mask.
“We can add more furniture if you’d like,” Mason said. “And I’ll have someone come in to remove the desks.”
“No. I can do that.” Bannack rubbed his hand on the mattress. “It’s been years since I’ve had one of these.”
“What?” Eloise asked and chuckled. “A room?”
“No,” Bannack looked at her. “A bed.”
CHAPTER NINE
Joy
Salt spray from the ocean hung in the air as Joy pushed Seth’s powerchair along the boardwalk. He could maneuver around on his own, even though it was a struggle some days, but on their daily walks, he liked to lounge back with the sun on his body while his mom showed him around. She tried to enjoy it, the sound of the waves, and the seagulls crying above. It didn’t work. It hadn’t in a while.
A ping of anger pricked at her eyes. She was angry Seth had asked her to leave Eloise alone, angry her only child was slowly being ripped away from her, and angry she could stop it but that he didn’t want her to.
I wish you could understand.
But she pushed herself to enjoy time spent with Seth, even if she had to fake it. She could cry later.
“Mama? Can you bring me…one of those?”
They had stopped at the end of the dock, the waves licking the edge, and she looked down at the rocky beach. On top of the small section of sand was a white sand dollar. She removed her shoes and stepped down. The sand scratched the bottom of her feet as she navigated across the rocks to the treasure. She picked it up. Half fell off into the water.
“It’s broken.”
