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Broken World | Novel | Angus

Page 28

by Mary, Kate L.


  Angus snorted out an amused laugh. “Mutant?”

  “Yeah.” Naya glanced over her shoulder at him. “You know, like the X-men?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “How you know ’bout the X-men?”

  He’d forgotten all about the fictional mutants, and he couldn’t figure out how this girl, who’d never lived in a world with television, would know anything about them. Personally, he’d never been a fan. The idea of people with superpowers running around saving humanity had been laughable. He’d known enough people to realize that very few people would choose to use their power for good if given the opportunity. People were too opportunistic for that.

  “Comics.” Naya was still facing the fire when she shrugged, and she turned the spit one more time before getting to her feet and crossing her arms. “We had a bunch in our shelter, and I read them all. I always tried to imagine what I might be able to do if I had powers. You know? Like, could I have wiped out the zombies, so we didn’t have to live underground?”

  It was a nice thought, although Angus was pretty sure he was too human to be able to do anything like that. Yes, he could heal, but look how long it took him. Even if he dedicated his entire existence to killing these things, he’d only be able to take out one or two at a time, then he’d be down for days while he recovered. It was impossible. Then there was the fact that as far as he knew, he and Naya were the only people left in the world. What was he fighting to save other than the girl at his side, and what kind of life was she going to have? Growing up with an old man, no friends, no promise of anything better. It was ridiculous.

  “Well,” he said, hauling himself to his feet with great effort, “I ain’t a superhero, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  “You never know,” Naya said, and this time she smiled.

  Angus could only snort in response. “I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

  Naya went back to the rabbit while he headed to the bathroom.

  There was a little candle next to the sink, which he lit before shutting the door. It didn’t provide much light, but there was enough that he was able to see his reflection. The mirror was filmy and old, but he could still make out his messy gray hair and too long beard, as well as the bandage wrapped around his neck. It was clean, but stained with old blood, making him look almost grotesque. The cuts on his face didn’t help, because while they were mostly healed, they’d left raised scars he wasn’t sure would ever go away.

  Angus looked nothing like the man he’d been when his wife was still alive, and he found himself wondering if she’d even recognize him. If she walked into this house right now, would she know who he was? Would his brother or any of the friends he’d said goodbye to over the years know who he was? He doubted it.

  Naya had put a basin of water on the sink, and Angus used it to wash his face, wet his hair, and scrub his beard clean. Once that was done, he dug through the drawers until he found a pair of scissors, which he used to trim the unruly hair on his chin and cheeks. The quiet snip of the shears filled the room, and his gray whiskers fell, dropping into the sink and on the counter, and once again, his mind wandered to the past.

  Angus could remember sitting at the kitchen table inside their house in Senoia, his friends gathered around, chatting quietly as they drank their morning tea—a homemade ginger blend that had taken a lot of getting used to. Months had passed since they’d found any coffee in the highjacked shipments, but they hadn’t been certain what that meant. When Star was alive, he’d made sure to keep up with the production of essential items, but no one knew for sure what The Church was doing. It was possible they weren’t prioritizing things like coffee, or it might have had something to do with the creatures so many people were talking about—assuming the rumors were true.

  That morning Glitter had swept into the room, all smiles despite the early hour. Her once pink hair had long ago grown out and was now the same dirty blonde shade as Axl’s, and she’d had it pulled into a high ponytail that swished when she walked.

  She’d paused long enough to tickle Angus’s beard when she passed him. “Hey there, old man.”

  He’d put his cup down and pushed his chair out, turning to face his daughter.

  “Old man?” Angus had looked at his wife, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, and she’d smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling in an endearing way that had gone straight to his heart. “You hear what she just said to me?”

  Glitter giggled as she made her own cup of tea, stealing a glance at her father before turning her focus back to the mug. She stirred her spoon through the water while pouring in a generous helping of honey, the clinking of metal against ceramic filling the silence that had followed his statement. When she was content with the concoction she’d made, Glitter set the spoon down and turned to face the room, giving her father a satisfied smile.

  Angus was still shaking his head. “Old.” He let out a snort of disapproval.

  “She’s got a point.” Axl pursed his lips the way he did when he was thinking, the scar on his cheek puckering as his deep, gray eyes swept over his brother’s face. “Sixty. That’s gettin’ up there. Maybe it’s ’bout time we got you a cane? I saw you limpin’ the other day when it started raining.”

  He said it with such a straight face that for a moment Angus hadn’t been able to react.

  Then he’d snapped out of it and growled, “Fuck you.”

  Axl’s face had broken out in a smile.

  “Don’t listen to them.” Parv pushed herself off the counter and crossed the room so she was standing in front of him, then she’d run her fingers through his hair, her gaze focused on his. “I like the gray. It’s distinguished.”

  Angus’s hands moved to her hips almost of their own accord, pulling her closer. His gaze locked with hers, which was intent and so captivating that he—

  “Distinguished or decrepit?” Al cracked, a huge grin on his face. As usual.

  Angus tore his gaze from Parv so he could scowl the other man’s way. “I can still kick your ass.”

  “And probably pull a muscle in the process,” Al shot back.

  Angus was glaring at Al, who hadn’t seemed the least bit worried, when Parv grabbed his chin, forcing him to turn his head so he was looking her in the eye. “Ignore them. I know you’re not old. Believe me.”

  She winked, and like she’d waved a wand, his scowl turned into a grin.

  “Showed how young I am this mornin’, didn’t I?”

  Glitter groaned. “Gross!”

  Al made a gagging sound, sticking his finger in his mouth, but Parv had only laughed, and Angus hadn’t given two shits what anyone else was doing or saying because all he could think about was her. Five years they’d been together already. He couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe after all those miserable years in the CDC he wasn’t just a free man, but that he had a real life with a woman who was crazy about him. A woman he would have gladly died for.

  “Maybe you can show me again,” Parv said, shooting a smirk Al’s way, who’d responded by pantomiming throwing up in the sink. Then she’d taken Angus’s hand and pulled him to his feet. “Plus, I still have to give you your birthday present.”

  “That so?” Angus had been grinning like a kid on Christmas morning.

  “It is,” Parv had responded, pulling him toward the door.

  “Yuck!” Glitter called, throwing a towel their way just as they’d ducked out of the kitchen. “No one wants to know about that.”

  Angus had barely heard her.

  He’d felt like a teenager as he and Parv headed to their room, not like he was celebrating sixty years on this Earth. Not that he’d experienced anything like this even when he was a teenager. He’d never taken his time with anyone, just kissing and holding the other person instead of rushing to get to the main event. He’d always been single-minded in his sexual relationships, desperate to get their clothes off as fast as possible, and he’d never had a woman kiss him the way Parv did. Like she couldn’t get enough of him. An
gus James. He still had no idea how he’d gotten so lucky.

  They’d stopped outside their room for a few minutes and just kissed, and even when they finally made it inside, he’d taken his time. His lips on hers as he lifted her, the two of them falling to the bed in one another’s arms, never breaking the kiss. His hands had roamed her body over her clothes, savoring the feel of her curves even through the fabric. Every touch had been electric even while they were dressed, and once they were naked, it was even better. It had made his head spin, had made him feel like he was living a fantasy, and sometimes he was so terrified it would disappear that he could barely stand to let her go.

  That was how he’d felt that day as he’d pulled her against him, their lovemaking over but Angus feeling desperate to have her closer. He’d wrapped her in his arms, and she’d rested her head on his chest, a small smile on her face as she’d peered up at him through thick, dark lashes.

  “Happy birthday,” she’d whispered.

  He’d kissed the top of her head. “Don’t feel sixty.”

  “You don’t act it either.”

  Angus had chuckled. “Makin’ up for lost time, I guess.”

  “Probably,” she’d said, returning his smile.

  He’d kissed her again, this time on the forehead, and his gray whiskers brushed her nose. Parv scratched her face, then ran her hand down his cheek and over his beard, tickling his chin.

  “I don’t mind the beard, but it is getting a little long.”

  “You think I should trim it?” he’d asked, scratching at his own chin.

  “You do what you want.”

  “I wanna make you happy.”

  “You’ve already done that,” she’d replied then pressed her lips against his.

  The next morning, he’d been standing in front of the mirror, scissors in hand, trimming his beard when she’d walked into the bathroom behind him. Their eyes had met in the mirror, and she’d smiled but said nothing. She’d just stood there, watching as he worked, his gray whiskers falling into the sink, on the counter, and to the floor.

  When he was finished, she’d made him turn to face her, then she’d run her hand down the side of his face like she had the day before, her smile growing. “Now I can see you better.”

  “You coulda just told me you didn’t like it.”

  “I didn’t dislike it.” She’d traced her thumb across his bottom lip. “I just didn’t like that I couldn’t see you.”

  He copied her, running the back of his hand down her cheek to her lips, then tracing the bottom one the way she had with his.

  “Not sure I deserve you.”

  “You do,” she’d replied, her voice soft but firm.

  Angus had swallowed, emotion suddenly clogging his throat, then said, “Don’t know ’bout that, but I know I’m too selfish to let you go. I could give up a lot of things. Could even give up my own life again if I had to. Not you, though.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she’d told him, “because you’re stuck with me.”

  He’d smiled at that.

  Parv had lifted herself on her toes, planted a gentle kiss on his lips, then turned her attention to the sink.

  He’d followed her lead, helping sweep up the hairs, but he’d only been half focused on the act because he’d been too busy watching her in the mirror. Memorizing the lines by her eyes and at the corners of her mouth, and the way her lips curved. Then she’d looked up, and once again their eyes had met, and when she’d smiled, he’d felt like the air had been sucked from his lungs. Except, thanks to her nearness, he hadn’t needed it. He’d only needed her.

  Angus closed his eyes as the memory swept over him, pausing in the middle of trimming his beard, and when he opened them again, he saw her standing behind him. It was only for the briefest of moments and then she was gone, but it was sweet enough that he’d remember the feeling forever.

  “I love you, Parv,” he said to his reflection. “Always.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Once Angus had cleaned himself up and put on a fresh change of clothes, he returned to the living room. Naya’s back was to him when he stepped out, her focus on the cooking rabbit, and already the air was thick with the scent of roasting meat. He moved her way but paused as he passed the kitchen, for the first time noticing the random items scattered across the counters. Mushrooms, some wild onions, and a few other green plants he didn’t recognize. His gaze moved back to the girl, his lips puckered in thought. He’d traveled the country for years, had spent countless hours in the woods even before all this started, but wild plants were something he’d never dared touch. There had never been an opportunity for him to learn what was okay to eat and what would kill a person—or in his case, make him sick—and it never would have occurred to the old Angus to go to the library and study what wild plants were edible. Just the thought made him snort.

  Naya glanced over her shoulder at the sound. “You okay?”

  “Gettin’ there,” he said, dragging himself to the couch.

  He was clean but worn out from the effort it had taken. Despite that, he was feeling stronger by the minute. Two, maybe three days tops, and he’d be back to normal and they could move on. Not that he knew where they’d be moving on to, but at least they had the option.

  Angus paused when he reached the couch, studying his surroundings. The cabin was a good setup. Secluded and sturdy, it had a wood burning fireplace, and the surrounding forest was teeming with animals he could hunt. They could stay there, at least for a while, and probably be pretty safe. If nothing else, it would give them a chance to rest and recharge.

  His gaze moved to Naya, and he pressed his lips together. Talking the girl into it wouldn’t be easy. She was dead set on finding this mythical shelter her mother had convinced her existed.

  Shaking his head, he lowered himself to the couch, groaning when his tired body protested.

  Naya got to her feet, turning to face him. “I still can’t believe you’re alive. You should have seen the damage that thing did to your throat.”

  “Ain’t gonna lie,” he said, automatically reaching up to rub his neck, “Thought for a minute there it was gonna get the best of me.”

  She reached up to finger the locket, her mouth turning down in the corners like the memory upset her.

  Angus jerked his head toward the kitchen. “You got some wild plants?”

  “Yeah.” Naya released the necklace but once again didn’t tuck it away. She moved to the chair, taking a seat, her brown eyes on him the whole time. “The first day, after you killed the raccoon, I was too hurt to go far, so I made do with some pine and dandelion. Not the best, but it gave the broth some flavor.” She gave a small shrug. “This morning, though, my ankle was feeling a little better, so I went farther. I found mushrooms and some other plants we can eat, like katniss root.”

  “How’d you know how to do that?”

  “Mom.” Once again, the girl frowned, which was something she seemed to do a lot when she was thinking. “Except the katniss root. I learned that from reading The Hunger Games.”

  “Your momma was a smart woman.”

  “She was,” Naya replied, her voice sad, her expression pained.

  Angus waited to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything else, then asked, “How’s that ankle?”

  The girl lifted her leg, propping her muddy boot on the table in front of her and pulling her pant leg up. “Better. Less swollen. Overall, it ended up not being as bad as I thought.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’m thinkin’ I might be ready to leave in a couple days. Long as you’re doin’ all right.”

  Naya lifted her foot off the table and rotated it a few times as if testing her ankle, her expression determined and serious and thoughtful. Then she nodded once. “I think that will work.”

  “Good.”

  He wasn’t sure why, but something about the look on her face made him want to smile, but he held back, not wanting the girl to think he was laughing at her.

  Ca
reful not to put too much weight on her bad ankle, she stood and limped to the fire, and Angus watched as she turned the spit, her expression a mask of concentration.

  They’d only spoken about Naya’s mother a little, but the longer they were together, the more Angus came to respect the woman. She’d done her best to prepare her daughter for this world even though they’d had a shelter. Like the others in her group, most people would have thought it unnecessary. It was easy to take safety for granted, especially when you had a private underground bunker, but Naya’s mom had done right by her. As someone who’d never had a parent who actually gave a shit about him, Angus knew how lucky the girl was.

  When she’d adjusted the spit to her liking, Naya limped back to the chair she’d just vacated and sat.

  “Your momma would be real proud of you,” Angus said.

  “I hope so.” Naya’s brows furrowed in thought. “I miss her. Sometimes, it’s still hard to remember she’s gone. Was it like that for you? When the people you loved first died, I mean.”

  For a moment, Angus thought she’d been asking about his mom, and he found his thoughts drifting to the weeks following her death. Axl had moved in, and they’d settled into a routine, Angus working and his brother going to school. He’d always looked out for Axl, so it hadn’t been much of an adjustment for Angus, and had it not been for Lilly, things would have gone smoothly. Angus had hated his brother’s girlfriend, though. Hated that he was so fixated on her, hated how much time they spent together, hated that she was actively trying to take Axl away. College. She’d been as white trash as they were, but Lilly had worked hard and was determined to make something of herself, and she’d wanted to take Axl with her. Angus had put a stop to that, though.

  Looking back on it now, he wanted to smack himself for what he’d done.

  He remembered the night he first realized what Lilly’s plans were. Angus had gotten home from work exhausted and looking forward to lounging on the couch with a cold beer but had stepped into his trailer to find his brother’s girlfriend sprawled out across the sofa. Despite her long legs and toned stomach, which was peeking out from where her shirt had ridden up, Angus had gritted his teeth at the sight. Axl hadn’t been in the room, and when Angus slammed the door, Lilly tore her gaze from the television and focused on him. She’d looked at him exactly how he’d looked at her. Like he was an intruder, which had pissed him off even more because she was in his trailer lying on his couch and watching his TV.

 

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