by M. J. Haag
“We found a stash of holiday candy when we were out there,” I said. “We left it in the supply shed for someone else to fight over and opted for more practical items.”
“That’s smart. But sometimes cake is necessary.”
I couldn’t have agreed more.
She joined me at the kitchen island and slid a bowl of beef stew my way. I recognized it from the box that Tor had brought over.
“It’s not exactly breakfast food, but food is food, right?” she said, noting my hesitation.
“I’m grateful Tor thought to bring it,” I said. “It was really sweet for both of you to think of us.”
“You seem surprisingly comfortable around Tor and the other fey. They terrified me the first time I saw them. While that wore off quickly, I was still pretty wary for the first few weeks.”
“They’re a lot nicer than the people here. Do you know you were the first one to welcome us? Matt showed us around, but there was no welcoming vibe. To be fair, Adam had to be carried here because of his concussion.” I sighed deeply and played with the stew. “I guess there wasn’t much of an opening for friendly introductions.”
“Don’t think you need to excuse them for my benefit. I had to live with these people on two occasions, and neither was pleasant.”
“Fear and desperation are a toxic combination. Adam and I learned that early on from the people over the radio. They felt like family. People to talk to when we were otherwise cut-off from the world. Then they started going quiet, one by one. We learned that there were people using that feeling of community to learn the locations of those of us hidden away. They were killing our radio friends for supplies.”
“And then you came here. Your supplies were taken. And Adam was beaten.” She reached out and covered my hand with hers. “It shouldn’t have happened that way. It should have been your choice to share what you had. It should have been your choice which community to live in.”
“Why didn’t we have those choices?” I wasn’t angry with her but trying to learn the rules like Adam said.
“Because the humans here fling their hate at the fey while expecting them to risk everything to keep them safe. I know the fey look like they’re big and strong and indestructible, and in a lot of ways they are. But, they also have a fatal weakness that the people here used relentlessly. The fey just want to belong. They want families of their own, but they’re all men. They lived without sunlight for thousands of years. When they first came above ground, it hurt to go out during the day. It still does, but they ignore it. Do you know why? They’re desperate to do more than exist. They want to be a part of something bigger. Our world, as crappy as it is, is better than what they had. Endless darkness and countless deaths and rebirths. Can you imagine? Dying again and again and coming back with all those memories. All they’ve known is pain.”
Emily released my hand and shook herself.
“Sorry. I’ve made it my personal mission to find ways to integrate them into our lives. As you can tell, I’m passionate about it. They do so much for us and ask for so little in return. Anyway, my point was that we don’t allow people to choose where they want to live because most will take advantage of the fey.”
I glanced at the stairs, thinking of Tor and Brog, the fey who’d stayed with me before Tor.
“I don’t want to take advantage of their generosity.”
“Oh, you’re not. Trust me. Tor told me all about the friendship Adam extended within minutes of meeting him. It made his day. The other fey in your group, too. Like I said, most of us have a freak out period.”
“Adam and I saw the fey come into the barn before the infected attacked. There were two of them. One lifted a cow like it was no big deal. The other took a barn cat. They were scary-different, but the animals were fine with them.
“When they came back and cleared out the barn, protecting Ryan and following his lead, I figured they couldn’t be the killers Adam and I heard about. I understand that they were, but they aren’t anymore. Matt explained why the fey had that reputation. Fear is a powerful thing. I wonder what the fey’s welcome would have been like if that first shot hadn’t been fired.”
“I’d like to think it would have been better; but in reality, someone always fires the first shot. We are a people who shun uniqueness and seem to crave conflict on any level, even to the point that we argue about conflict itself. I understand why. We’re driven to stand up for our beliefs, whatever they may be.”
What she was saying resonated deeply with me. Adam’s beating had been retaliation for the trap, which had been due to the initial robbery.
“You look too young to have a degree in psychology.”
Emily grinned.
“I pay attention to people. Most everyone is too busy focusing on their own lives and their own beliefs to put them aside long enough to look around and see things objectively. Losing my sister kind of slapped me out of my own headspace, I think. I started questioning things. A lot of whys, you know?”
“Yeah. I do know.”
A knock on the door interrupted our conversation. The redhead and the scowling fey from last night, Kerr, were on the step when I answered.
“I came by to check on the patient,” she said. “May we come in?”
“Of course.”
She said hello to Emily and asked about someone named Hannah while I took her jacket from her and hung it in the entry. The way they spoke to each other showed not only a level of familiarity but caring. Adam and I had absolutely been stuck on the wrong team.
Emily stayed in the kitchen, and the pair followed me upstairs to the bedroom.
“Hello, Cassie,” Tor said, standing.
“Hi, Tor. Has he woken up yet?” she asked both of us.
“Once overnight,” I answered, “and once while Tor was watching him this morning. Both times, he was thirsty. We gave him ice chips.”
“Good,” she said.
She moved closer to Adam and checked where we had the latest round of snow bags.
“Have you been keeping them on all night?” she asked.
“Yeah. Changing spots so nothing gets too cold. The washcloth I’ve kept on his eye more often, trying to get that swelling down.”
“I’d say it’s working,” she said, lifting it. “The lid looks much better.”
I wasn’t seeing what she was. It still looked too puffy to open.
“Adam,” she called. “It’s Cassie. I’m here to look over your injuries. If anything hurts, I need you to tell me, okay?”
He didn’t respond, but that didn’t stop her from pulling back the covers to his hips and gently feeling along his ribs and abdomen. When she touched his left side, he groaned.
“Adam,” she repeated, “my name is Cassie. Can you tell me where you hurt?”
“Everywhere,” he rasped.
“Focus on your abdomen. Does anything hurt inside?”
“Ribs,” he breathed. This time, he tried to open his eyes.
Cassie leaned over so she would look right into them.
“Hi, Adam. How’s the vision?”
“Shitty.”
She chuckled. “I bet. It looks like you took a few hits to the face. The swelling is already going down.”
“June?” he said, turning his head.
“June’s right here,” Cassie said. “She’s fine. I’d like to stay focused on you. How does your neck feel? Did anything hurt when you moved it?”
“No.”
“That’s very good,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I know everything is sore, but I’d like to look at your back. Do you think you can sit up with some help?” She motioned to Kerr, who immediately stepped forward.
Chewing my bottom lip, I watched the pair work with Adam. Cassie repeated several times that Adam needed to listen to the pain. That if anything hurt, he needed to stop. She managed to check over his back and wedged more pillows behind him.
“It’s good to change positions. The elevation will help with the facia
l swelling. Keep going with the snow bags. Hopefully, it won’t all melt in the next few days.”
Adam, who’d been leaning back after all the movement, opened his eyes again. His gaze swung around the room and landed on me.
“Babe. Thank God they didn’t hurt you, too.”
I went to his side, trying not to tear up, and gently kissed his cheek.
“They didn’t. I’m fine. You’ll be fine, too.”
“How long was I out?” His eyes started to close, and I could see his determination to keep them open when they rolled a little before widening.
“Twelve hours maybe? I’m not sure what time they came.”
“We can’t stay here.”
I gently took his hand, trying to soothe the notes of fear and worry I heard in his words. I knew Adam well enough to understand those emotions weren’t for himself but for me.
“We’re fine, Adam. I promise. Tor is staying with us.”
I glanced back at Tor and waved him forward.
“Adam, I brought the flame chips for you,” Tor said, leaning over my shoulder. “But Cassie says you have to eat the oatmeal first. I’m sorry.”
The complete gravity of his words had Adam laughing and groaning.
“Thanks for having my back, Tor. Keep June safe for me, until I can do it myself, okay?”
“I will.”
Adam’s eyes rolled again. This time, they closed and didn’t reopen.
“It looks like it’s time for more rest,” Cassie said. “Listen to your body, Adam. That’s the best advice I can give you right now.”
She looked at me. “Now that he’s propped up, try to get him to drink something next time he’s alert. There are no IVs for us to use if he gets dehydrated.”
I nodded, not letting go of Adam’s hand.
Everyone left the room, and the house quieted. I continued to stroke his skin, my touch light. This wasn’t the first injury I’d helped him through, but it was by far the most serious. There’d been twisted ankles and pulled muscles and strained ligaments, all of which had required rest and eventually physical therapy. Adam would know what he had to do once he was more himself. Until then, I needed to focus on what I could do to make him more comfortable. I moved his snow bags, changed out his washcloth for a colder one, and waited.
Eventually, I remembered Emily and got up to check on her. The cake was on the stovetop, cooling, with the canister of frosting beside it. Tor was sitting on the couch, watching a movie at a low volume.
“Did Emily leave?” I asked.
“Yes. She said she will come back tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I set my hand on the cake, which was still far too warm, and looked around the room.
“It’s weird not having anything to do,” I said. “At the farm, there were chores. The cattle to feed. Equipment to check. Monitors to watch. What does everyone do here to stay busy?”
“Here?”
I nodded.
“Most do nothing.”
“That’s probably part of the problem,” I said.
He grunted, and I moved to join him on the couch.
“Do you want me to watch Adam?” he asked.
I gave him a small smile for that thoughtful offer.
“I think we wore him out with all the talking and moving. He’ll probably be out for a while longer. What are we watching?” I gestured at the TV.
“I don’t know.” He handed me the movie case, and I grinned.
“I wouldn’t have pictured you as a mermaid fan, but I approve.”
For the next hour, the classic film entertained us. It’d been years since I’d last watched it and could say I still loved it just as much.
“Did you eat any of the stew that Emily made?” I asked.
“No.”
“Okay. I’ll peek in on Adam then see if I can make us something for lunch.”
Adam was the same as when I’d left him, but the snow bags had melted to warm water. I changed them out and checked his eyes. As soon as I lifted the cloth, he tiredly looked at me.
“I have to pee.”
“Okay. Let me get Tor to help you.”
His eyes shifted from me to the bathroom door.
“I could get a bottle or something if you’re not up for it.”
“Have Tor bring a bottle.”
I nodded and crashed into Tor outside the bedroom. Thankfully, he caught me to prevent me from bouncing my face off his abs.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, stepping back. “He has to go to the bathroom but hurts too much to get up. I’ll find him something to pee in. He doesn’t want me to help though. Would you mind?”
“I’ll help.”
I hurried to the kitchen and found two large, reusable water bottles in the cupboard. One I kept empty, the other I filled. When I handed the empty one over to Tor, I also asked him to watch for blood in the urine.
“It can happen with hard hits to the kidneys.”
He grunted, promised to make sure Adam drank, and went upstairs.
Distracting myself, I went to the TV and dug through the supplies Adam had hidden in the cabinet. By the time Tor returned, I had beans soaking for tomorrow and spaghetti boiling on the stove.
“His urine did not smell like blood.” He announced before giving me a troubled look. “He did not like me smelling it.”
I laughed. A real one because I could imagine Adam’s face.
“I imagine not. It was for his own good, though. Is your sense of smell that enhanced? Could you have actually smelled blood?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impressive.” I drained the noodles and poured the tomato sauce over them before excusing myself to check on Adam.
His eyes opened when he heard me entering the room.
“I heard you laugh,” he said, a slight tip to the corner of his puffy lip.
“Bet you wish it would have been me pouring out your pee,” I said, coming closer to fuss over his washcloth. Adam caught my hand and held it in his own. I didn’t miss the wince in his expression.
“Are you doing things you shouldn’t be doing?” I asked.
“Probably. I just needed to touch you. I’m sorry, June. Those men coming in here…that’s on me.”
“No. It’s on them. But they’re not our problem anymore. Once you’re better, we’re going to Tolerance.”
“The fey place?”
“Yep.”
I could tell by the way he slightly shifted under the covers that he was testing to see how much he hurt.
“You’re not better yet. So don’t even try to tell me you are. Brog, one of the fey, stayed with me last night, and I think Tor’s going to stay until someone else comes to give him a break. There’s no rush. We’re safe.”
Adam sighed heavily.
“I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you, June.”
“I’m alive because of you, Adam. Countless times over. Please stop being so hard on yourself.”
“That would be like me asking you not to worry about me right now.” His grin turned into a wince.
“Are you hungry?” I asked instead of acknowledging he was right.
“A little. My jaw’s sore.”
“Oatmeal, coming right up.”
Downstairs, I plated up our spaghetti and ate with Tor, giving Adam’s oatmeal plenty of time to soften. When it was ready, I handed it to Tor.
“He won’t want me to see how much eating that hurts him. Try to get him to eat it all.”
“I will.”
Chapter Six
The bed moved. I lifted my head to look at Adam. He was still propped up, but based on the expression he wore, the pain relievers had worn off.
Beyond him, Tor slept in the chair. The way his chin rested on his chest was going to give him a neck ache. I smiled slightly to myself. Both of them needed a little fussing, and I imagined they’d react about the same to it.
Although I tried to ease from the bed without making a sound, Tor immediately lifted his head and lo
oked at me.
“He needs another pain reliever. I’ll be right back.”
He grunted and focused on Adam.
Downstairs, Brog watched a movie, a cartoon, with no volume. I’d tried telling Tor he could go home to rest when Brog had shown up, but he asked to stay. After Emily’s comment about his excitement over Adam’s friendship, I’d agreed—on the condition he at least sleep while Brog watched over us all.
“Hey, Brog,” I said softly. “Are you hungry? Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine, June. Do you need help?”
“No. Just getting more medicine for Adam.”
He watched me fill a cold glass of water from the tap and shake out a pill that Cassie had left for us.
“Thank you for staying,” I said before heading back upstairs.
Tor stood near one of the windows, peeking around the curtain when I entered. He immediately moved away from the window and focused on what I was doing.
“Adam, I think you need another pain reliever,” I said, touching his shoulder.
“Yeah,” he rasped, working to open his eyes. They opened a bit wider than they had for lunch.
“Bathroom too,” he added.
“Bottle?” I handed him the glass and the pill and watched him take it.
“No. I want to try to move around. Would you mind going downstairs for a bit?”
“Nope. Not this time. I’m going to fluff your pillows and straighten the bed while you’re gone. Plus, I plan to stare at your ass.”
He made a sound that started out a snort and ended with a grunt.
“Careful. You’re starting to sound like Tor.”
Tor flashed his teeth at me, and I returned his smile this time.
“Would you like me to carry you, Adam? You can stand in the bathroom with the door closed.”
“And deprive June of her peep-show? I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“He’s just saying that because he’d feel weird if you carried him while he’s naked,” I said with a smirk.
“More pillow fluffing and less talking,” Adam said before easing himself forward.
I watched his face closely. He noticed.
