Indivisible

by C. A. Rudolph

  She nodded, setting her rifle down followed by her pack, feeling the weight depart her shoulders. “A few minutes ago.”

  “How did you get here? Did you drive?” He sent glances along the road. “Or did someone drive you?”

  Lauren considered his question. “We drove most of the way…and got stuck, more or less. We had to hump it in after that.”

  “We?” John’s eyes found her.

  “A friend was with me, and we brought a couple in with us.”

  “A friend, huh?”

  “Yes, John. A friend.”

  “Something you’re not deprived of,” John remarked. “You and your friends didn’t have to walk far, did you?”

  “Actually, we did. Most of yesterday and all day today.”

  A brow raised, John beheld her with a disapproving stare. “Sorry to hear that, but you made it and that’s good…real good.” He paused, nearly sniggering. “New clothes, new gun…new friends. It’s a new Lauren.”

  She leaned on the gate. “No, not quite. New clothes, a couple new guns, an old friend…but same Lauren.”

  John nodded, seeming unconvinced. “Who finally decided to come home. Surprising, I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “John, it’s been an incredibly long trip. I just got here, I’m chilled to the bone, and my feet are killing me. I don’t want to argue.”

  “Oh, neither do I. Arguing is the last thing I want to do,” John said. “Truthfully, what I really want right now is to grab you, squeeze you, and never let you go…tell you how much I’ve missed you and kiss those warm lips of yours. I’ve been thinking about it for over a month now, how badly I’ve wanted to hold you and feel you do the same, like you used to, back before this new…persona of yours took over.”

  Lauren inched closer to him.

  “But I can’t go through with it,” John finished.

  “What? Why can’t you?”

  “Because I don’t know who you are. I did there for a while, but not anymore. I thought I knew everything there was to know about you. I let myself fall head over heels in love with you a long time ago. But you’ve changed, and now I just…” He trailed off. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  Lauren’s sore legs felt weak enough to buckle under her weight. “John, please…I’m begging you. Don’t do this right now, okay? Please? You don’t know what I’ve had to go through since I’ve been gone—”

  “Sure I do. Christian told me,” John cut in. “He told everybody everything. I’m sorry, I know it must’ve been tough.”

  “It was more than tough.”

  John nodded. “It hasn’t been much easier here.”

  “I know and I’ve heard. And I’m sorry, John.”

  “Me too.”

  The couple stared at one another for a long minute, neither saying a word.

  Lauren sniffled. “Dammit, John. What is this? Why are you so mad at me? God—all I’ve wanted for days was to be home, to spend time with you, and with Mom and Grace, and be back where I belong. We’ve loved each other since we were kids, and you’ve never once acted like this with me. What’s this about? Talk to me.”

  “It’s not an act.” John stared at the ground. “I know about Richie.”

  Lauren stammered. She looked mortified, her brows drawing in. “You know what about him? Who told you? Did he—”

  “It just matters that I know. It doesn’t matter who told me.”

  “Yes, it does. It does matter. Richie is a liar, John…you don’t know him. He aggrandizes everything.”

  “Did the two of you go on a date?”

  Lauren leaned away. She didn’t answer.

  “While we were together?”

  She again faltered her reply.

  John huffed. “Your lack of response says it all.” He slammed his palms on the gate. “Jesus—I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you. How could you do that to us? And to me? And with that guy, of all people?”

  “John, listen. Richie…he meant nothing to me. Nothing at all.”

  “That’s not what he said.”

  “And for the record, I don’t care what he said,” Lauren growled. “Richie only cares about one person—Richie. He lies and embellishes everything. He practically deifies himself.”

  “Did you sleep with him?”

  Lauren forced out a breath. “What?” She stood there in shock. “John, I—”

  “Did you?”

  Her lips pinched. “You’re not being fair.”

  John folded his arms and gazed at her mercilessly. He wasn’t about to back down.

  Lauren shifted her hips. “No,” she said, countering his gaze with an unblinking one of her own. “I would like to think you know me better than that. But the answer’s no. I didn’t.”

  John merely looked away as if Lauren’s reply was good for him, though not good enough.

  “John, I was sixteen, I’d just met him. You and I were arguing over something stupid. I don’t even remember what it was about, but it put me in a weird place. You kept saying all the wrong things to me, and he was saying all the right ones. He came to the house and picked me up, and we drove around for a couple of hours, and talked. I started feeling guilty and I told him to take me home, and he did. That was it. He never touched me the whole time.” She paused. “I didn’t want anything to do with him after, and he chased me like a lost puppy for weeks.”

  “He talked about you like you were some kind of conquest,” John said. “I mean, you, Lauren! My girl! You were his conquest! Hearing him say those things about you made me want to kill him.”

  “And now, so do I.” Lauren softened her stance. “I’ve never been anyone’s conquest, John, nor will I, ever. I’m sorry I upset you. I’m sorry I fucked up. Can you please just accept that? Accept my apology so we can go back to being who we were before I left?”

  “I accept your apology,” John said. “But I can’t forgive you right now. You’ve been gone all this time and I haven’t heard a single word from you, not one word. Grace said she talked to you on the radio just a few days ago, and no one even bothered to come get me. It’s like I’m the furthest thing from your mind.”

  “That’s not true. I’ve had a million things on my mind lately, but you’ve never once been the furthest thing from it.”

  “But I’ve never held the coveted number one spot, have I?”

  Lauren looked away, gritting her teeth. “You know the answer to that. Only one person has ever held that spot.”

  “It’s different for me though, always has been, because you’re all I’ve ever wanted.” John paused expansively. “I hated you being away for so long, but it’s been good for me, in a way. It gave me time to put things into perspective. For far too long I’ve been putting too much emphasis on you and us, and not nearly enough on myself.”

  “John, I didn’t intend to hurt anyone, explicitly you,” Lauren said. “Ever since this whole thing started, something inside me has taken control, and I’ve been beating my brains out trying to figure out what the hell it is. That’s why I didn’t come home…and you can be mad at me as long as you want about it, but I promise I’ll never leave again, John. I won’t—I won’t leave you again.” A pause. “Please don’t leave me.”

  “I hear you. I hear the words you’re saying, but I don’t feel anything. It’s like they don’t carry any weight.” John slipped off his glove and reached into his pocket, then held his hand aloft, uncurling his fingers. In his palm lay a petite sterling silver ring on which a trivial, marquise-cut diamond was mounted. “This belonged to my grandmother. I asked Dad if I could have it a few months back, and he gave it to me, no questions asked. Because he knew what I wanted to do with it.” A pause. “And now you probably do too, don’t you?”

  A chill crept up Lauren’s spine, causing her to shudder. She felt light-headed and weak in that instant, her knees nearly caving beneath her. “John…I don’t know what to say. I-I…never—”

  “Saw this coming?” he barged in. “Yeah, I figured
that much…but, neither did I, really. Not until you left. I was going to surprise you for Christmas, but lo and behold, you weren’t here.” John faked a chuckle. “I mean seriously, what the hell was I thinking? Asking you to marry me—of all people. And now, of all times.” He returned the ring to his pocket. “Anyway, whatever, not like it matters anymore. What’s done is done. Too little, too late.”

  Lauren tensed as she set her jaw in a straight line. This behavior was out of character for John, but he wasn’t being cold now, he was being cruel. “Why did you show me that?” she asked, her voice shaking as she spoke. “Because you wanted me to feel shittier than I already do over everything? Because if so…you win. You win, John. Congratulations!” She threw her arms to her sides at the point of boiling over. “You…fucking win! But…goddamn…what an asshole move on your part.” She was trembling now. “I get it. You had this whole thing planned out, and you hate me for not being here to fulfil your dream for you. And now you throw it right in my face like it’s nothing—like I’m nothing…like everything we ever had between us was nothing. To get me back…because fuck me and all my stupid bullshit.

  “Does making me feel like shit make you feel better? Are you satisfied? I almost died…I almost never made it home…and spent a day in hell. I watched a man take a bullet to his head, only to be caged up in some nightmare rathole by a gang of lunatics. I spent the darkest night of my life there, scared to death…helpless…clueless as to what some vile piece of shit had planned for me the next day. And you don’t know what it was like—you could never know what it was like. All I wanted in those moments was to be home…with my family, and with you.” Lauren took a few breaths, attempting to calm herself. “I get it, okay? I understand…you’re hurt. I know why you are and I get that you’re mad. You have every right to be. But damn you, you have no right to treat me this way.”

  John looked away again, appearing somewhat ashamed. He didn’t say anything for quite a while. “Maybe you’re right,” he whispered. “Then again, maybe this makes us even.” He then turned away from her and started off.

  “I can’t change the things I’ve done…I can’t help who I’ve become. I can’t go back.”

  “I know. Neither can I.”

  “And that’s it? Now we just walk away?”

  “I have to, Lauren.”

  Her arms fell limp. “Even if I ask you not to?”

  Her plea caused John to halt, but he failed to turn around. “I can’t. I-I’m sorry.”

  Lauren shivered and watched helplessly as he strode away from her, his figure growing smaller as the distance between them grew, the physical swelling to compete with the emotional. She started to whimper and sob at the sight of it, never having imagined he’d do such a thing. Other than her father, John had been the only solid surface upon which Lauren had erected her trust. Now his back was to her. And it killed her knowing she was at fault.

  Lauren sighed, removed her beanie and wiped her face with it, doing so without realizing a layer of freeze had diffused into the fabric, the frigid dampness mixing with her tears. She pushed the gate open as far as it would go over the snow, then tracked the driveway to the cabin.

  A gust of cold wind blew past, freezing Lauren’s tears to her cheeks, relieving her of the need to obscure them. She didn’t want her mom or Grace to ask if something was wrong right off the bat, though she knew there wasn’t any way to conceal her mood after this. For certain, it had been a trying set of days. She had been so eager to be home, had fought to get here on multiple levels, and now she was home, only to have her heart ripped to shreds upon arrival.

  Reaching for the cabin’s front door handle, Lauren took in a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. “Here goes.”

  Grace leapt from the couch at the sight of her sister entering. She screeched and ran to her. “Holy shitballs! I knew it was you! I knew you’d come home!” She wrapped her arms around Lauren, ignoring fully the frozen precipitation clinging to her sister’s outerwear. “Jesus Christ on a polar bear, you’re cold.”

  Lauren absorbed her sister’s squeezes. “Well, it’s moderately cold outside, Grace.”

  “Duh.” Grace looked her over. “You have icicles in your eyelashes. And your cheeks are frozen. Were you crying?”

  “No, it’s the cold. Makes my eyes water sometimes.” Lauren efforted a smile. “I missed you.”

  Grace tilted her head and put a hand over her heart. “And I missed you more.”

  Backing away, Lauren slid her fingers lightly across Grace’s stomach. “You’re starting to show already.”

  “Damn! You really need to warm those hands before doing that,” Grace said with a shiver. “Not bad for my first baby bump, huh? I’m in my twelfth week now. Little boo is about the size of a lime, but the brat feels more like a softball.”

  “It looks good on you,” Lauren said, beaming, her expression going slack. “How’ve you been feeling?”

  “Like soft-boiled crap. But Mrs. Dr. Vincent says being pregnant is the happiest reason to feel crappy.”

  “That’s no fun.”

  “And in all fairness, it hasn’t been, love. I have literally been throwing up everything. My second trimester starts a few days from now, and I’m told that bullshit should go away, but confidence is in short supply.”

  “It will, Grace. Have faith.” Michelle strolled in after hearing the commotion.

  “Easy for you to say,” Grace quipped.

  Michelle looked Lauren up and down with stern, distressed eyes. “Well, look who’s here. My daughter, the nomad, in the flesh.” She moved in, reached for her and pulled her close. “God—it is so good to see you, toots. I’m glad you’re home, but just so you know, you’re grounded. You exceeded your curfew by a month.”

  Lauren smiled execrably. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”

  “And I suppose I’ll try to forgive you, this time. Ugh, you look like you’ve been outside for days,” Michelle lamented. “Come over here and warm up.”

  Lauren strolled to the hearth with her mother, stripped off her jacket, and held her hands over the Timberline.

  Michelle caressed her daughter’s temples and cheeks and combed through the tousles of her hair with her fingers. “You look so different.”

  “I haven’t been gone that long, Mom.”

  “Maybe not, but it’s been long enough. And I hope you plan on telling us what you’ve been up to and what took you so long to come back.”

  “I’ll tell you everything…but not now. I don’t have the energy for it.”

  Michelle rubbed Lauren’s chin. “You do look like you could use a little rest.”

  “A little?” Grace said, plopping down on the couch. “From here it looks like she could sleep for a month.”

  “Thanks a lot, sister.”

  “What? Just shooting you straight, not saying you look bad, just tired.” Grace’s look turned…expectant. “Seen anyone since whatever boat you flew in on brought you ashore? Other than us, I mean?”

  Lauren spoke hesitantly. “No one worth mentioning…besides John.”

  Michelle pulled her lips together.

  “Oooh,” said Grace, her eyes widening. “Yeah, shit. I probably should’ve tried to warn you about that.”

  “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. Nothing I can do about it now.”

  Michelle rubbed Lauren’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go to your room and take a load off…get changed and cleaned up. Are you hungry? I can make you something.”

  “No, not really. Just tired. Very, very tired.”

  Michelle kissed her head. “Tired it is. I hereby order you to bed. We’ll talk more tomorrow. I missed you, toots. And I’m super glad you’re home.”

  “Me too,” Lauren said, though not exactly feeling it.

  Lauren went to her room and closed the door behind her, dropping her things to the floor. She walked to her window and took a seat on her bed, remembering in that moment how many times she had done that ver
y thing. She was home after longing for it for so long, but home had become a phantom of itself.

  Lauren stripped off the clothes she’d been wearing for days and got into the most comfortable sleepwear she could locate, happy to find that Michelle had kept up with her laundry in her absence. She pulled the covers from her bed, crawled in and nestled her head in her pillow.

  It felt good to be home, felt even better to be horizontal in her own bed for the first time in weeks. But the sensation of being here was far from what she’d been expecting. And now, all she wanted was to find a dark hole where no one could ever find her, crawl into it and disappear from sight.

  She fell asleep in minutes, too exhausted to hold open her eyelids.

  Chapter 23

  Woodstock, Virginia

  Thursday, January 6th. Present day

  Jade exited the Marauder armored personnel carrier approximately one hour before sunup. Doing her best not to disturb a snoozing Alan and Ken, she bundled up and set off to reconnoiter the neighboring area due south. Recalling what Valerie had told her not long after arriving at Camp Hill and following last evening’s close encounter, Jade had developed a hunch, and she needed to either substantiate it or disprove it before moving forward with the day’s plans.

  She knew that Alan’s primary concern, and perchance his only one, was his family’s welfare, leaving his own of little consequence to him. His desire to find his loved ones and see this through, now, was pulling on him harder than it ever had. Yesterday’s setbacks were certain to make it worse. Their next stop would lead them roughly fifteen miles west of Woodstock, a pastoral town to their immediate south. And it was those coordinates in specific that had Jade on alert.

  Stumbling upon unfriendly or hostile forces along the way had been expected and was in character with this voyage. Valerie had conveyed all the omens and then some, and Butch had followed her up by reinforcing them in his own offbeat way, while neglecting to illustrate anything candidly.

  What they had seen while travelling here, or rather, what they hadn’t seen, hadn’t merely caught Jade by surprise, it was inconceivable to her. No signs of life—not one—anywhere along the way had been detected. And something about that was odd, to the point of defying probability.