Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness

by Robert L. Slater

“Lizzie. I’m an asshole.”

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  Zach was a wreck. A cross-ways rip across his brow had been sewn and taped. A bit of blood mixed with the yellow of iodine.

  “Shit, Zach, what the hell happened?” she asked, letting the door swing open more than she intended.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Are you crazy?” She held the door close to her body again, blocking any possibility of entry. “We’re not the three musketeers any more, not even the three stooges. There’s only one person you should be trying to talk to.”

  “I can’t talk to her.”

  “Well, then I guess you’re screwed.”

  “You’re my best friend, Lizzie.”

  Lizzie’s lips blew out something between spit and sarcastic laughter. “Was your best friend. When I was the only person you knew still alive. Nev should be your best friend.”

  “Well, she is. I mean, you’re right.” Zach paced back and forth. “She treats me better than I deserve. How am I supposed to tell her I’m sorry and convince her to take me back?”

  “Maybe start deserving the way she treats you,” Lizzie said. “How? I’ve got nothing there. Maybe talk to my dad.”

  “Mannie?” Zach’s brows furrowed. “But he left your mom when you were a kid.”

  “Yeah. Probably has thought for years about what he could have, would have, should have said.”

  Zach sighed. “I am sorry.”

  “Hell, Zach. I know that. She knows that. But like you tell me all the time. Stop doing things that mean you have to say you’re sorry. Jeez, man, did you jump off a cliff to make people feel sorry for you or something? I thought I was the only suicide-sympathy loser in our crew.”

  Zach ran his finger gently across the stitches. “Went boxing. It’s not at all funny, but you should see the other guy.”

  Lizzie searched his face for a hint of the humor and found none. “Yeah, I got beat up a little, too.”

  Surprise flashed across Zach’s face, “She hit you?”

  “No. And I didn’t stomp out on her to go get the shit beat out of me by someone else.” Lizzie‘s laugh came out manlier than she intended. “But you missed the part where she told me off for all of my past sins. Quite the show. I thought she was going to hit me.”

  “It’s my fault,” he growled.

  “Yeah,” she offered gently, “and?”

  Zach’s hands were fists. He was going to punch the wall. But instead he sank down and sat on the floor, groaning as he twisted his shoulders, hugging himself. “I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “Me neither. Maybe it can’t be fixed. You think I get women any better than you do? Try talking to my dad.”

  He shoved his legs against the floor and slid up the wall. “Thanks. I will.” He jogged down the carpeted hallway and barreled through the door at the end.

  Lizzie closed the door and pulled out her phone. She took a deep breath and called Nev. It rang until it went to voice mail. “Nev. It’s Lizzie. Duh. You know that. I’m sorry. Nothing happened yesterday. Shit. Something did happen, but nothing of me and Zach and a relationshit kind of thing. Yesterday for a minute at the fridge I had you back. Like the friend I love. I don’t know how to make it better with you. I’d like some time with you without Zach. Anyway. I’m gonna try to not be a selfish bitch. We’ve lost too much to lose each other. I miss you, sister, ex-lover, partner of the father of my baby and my friend. I love you, Nev. I’ll call again tomorrow.”

  Little feet on pattered on the carpet and Saj’s sunshine face, swept aside the cold sorrow of lost friendship. Mostly. “Hey, big boy. You want some breakfast?”

  “B’e’kfast,” he agreed, grasping her hand and pulling her toward him.

  As she poured him a bowl of cereal and milk her phone buzzed once. When she had him at the table eating she checked it. New text from Nev.

  Lizzie, I got your message, Nev.

  Lizzie didn’t know what the note meant, but Nev could have just ignored her voice-mail. Or she could have said, I never want to communicate with you ever again. At least it left the door open. Her phone rang. Duke. Did she want to talk to him? If he was going to go off on the Zach and Lizzie in the bathroom thing, all judging, she didn’t need it. Her fingers froze over the phone. But she might also be able to use him to forget about the relationshit. She loved her newest coined word. The phone stopped ringing. That answered that. She turned back to Saj. He had consumed all of the marshmallowy treats and most of the rest of the cereal.

  Zach sat on Mannie’s couch staring at his hands and waiting for answers. At least he hadn’t gone in for boxing without gloves. He would’ve really messed up that kid.

  Mannie sat quietly in his recliner, until Zach felt like getting up and running away.

  Finally, Mannie cleared his throat. “Not sure I can help. I don’t have any answers. Oh, I can see you screwed up. I’ve even been there, too. But getting out of it?” Mannie shook his head. “Say you’re sorry and hope she forgives you.”

  “I’ve tried. She won’t answer her phone or the door. What else?”

  “I’ve never figured out anything else.”

  Zach felt anger, confusion and desperation. He let his head fall into his hands.

  “The other thing to do,” Mannie continued, “is to give it time. Don’t push too hard.”

  Zach nodded. “I’m not very good at waiting.”

  “Who is?” Mannie laughed lightly. “But forgiveness takes time.”

  Zach stood up. “Thanks, Mannie.”

  “Anytime. I hope it helps.”

  Zach closed the door and started walking. His brain chased itself in circles, pausing only to chew on the bones of his past activities. The chill of the winter air left him puffing steam. Hunger pulled him back homeward, if Nev wouldn’t let him in he’d need to get food somewhere else. For the moment his hunger to see her overrode all other needs.

  As he came up the steps of the building, he saw the curtains move. He took a deep breath. Zach stopped outside their door. He knocked. No answer. He knocked again. He was pretty sure Nev was standing on the other side, possibly staring through the peephole.

  “Nev? Please, if you’re there, please, let me in.”

  “Give me one good reason.” Nev’s voice came from inside.

  Crap. Zach leaned up against the door and slid down.

  “I’m sorry. I’m cold. I’m hungry. I’m sorry.”

  Silence. And then her voice, quiet. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to open the door. Then tell me what I can do.”

  “What the hell happened?” There was a long pause. “You were so sweet. Until we got really serious. Sit down and get married serious. And you asked me. I said yes. And then you changed.”

  “You’re right. I did. I think I figured out part of why.”

  He heard movement behind the door and then her voice came from up above. “Why?”

  He quickly stood up, too. “I need your help.”

  “No shit, Sherlock. Tell me why?”

  Zach took a deep breath. Funny, not funny that Nev used the same words as Lizzie. “I don’t like asking for help. That’s part of the why. My father never asked my mother for help. My Gramps didn’t ask Gramma for help. Too much pride.”

  The deadbolt slid back. But the door didn’t open. The first step. He opened the door.

  Nev had backed up against the wall. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was wearing pajamas and a robe. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that showed her face. He could see she’d been crying for a long time.

  “I’m sorry, Nev.” He waited outside.

  She stared at him. Hurt and angry still. “Sorry isn’t enough?”

  “No.” Zach stepped inside and collapsed to his knees. “It’s not.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, sheltering his head under her arms.

  She loosened her arms and let them fall around his shoulders. “Stand up. I want to hold you.”


  He did. He cried, too. Which made her cry. He kissed her through the salty tears, repeating, “I’m sorry.”

  “Shut up,” Nev ordered, sniffing back her own tears. “Be sorry. But don’t tell me about it. Not for this. Tell me sorry for little things. Be sorry once. Tell me you’re sorry even if you don’t mean it. But for this…” She sucked in a ragged breath. “Tell me you still love me. Because if it’s Lizzie you love...”

  “It’s you. I love you.” He pulled her into his arms as she buried her face in his chest.

  They clung to each other until Nev shook. “I need to sit. Haven’t really eaten today.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Make me something.” She punched his arm.

  ”Anything.” He would go to Florida for gator meat if she asked.

  “I don’t know. Iron chef it with whatever we’ve got in the house. First job is to come up with an appetizer.” She sat on the couch.

  Zach knelt at her feet, taking her hand in his. “Will you still marry me?”

  “You’re pushing it.” Her face was stone.

  His anger rose. But he shoved it down as hard as he could.

  “How does that make you feel, Zach?”

  “You really want to know?”

  “If I didn’t, what would be the point?”

  “It makes me mad. I said I was sorry.” He slumped onto the floor at her feet. “I don’t know if I’m good enough for you.”

  “I don’t know either, Zach.”

  “I’ll go make some food,” he said.

  “If it makes any difference,” she called from the other room, “I don’t know if I’m good enough either.” Then she followed him into the kitchen. “I’ll set the table.”

  After dinner, she asked, “Why would we get married, even without all that happened last night? There’s too much going on. I may marry you. But not now. I know it doesn’t sound fair, but…”

  “Fair?” Zach kissed her hand. “You’ve been more than fair to me. I don’t know why we should get married, either. I want to be there for you. I want to give you everything you want. If marriage isn’t one of those things, I will be happy making dinner every night, until the day I die.”

  “We need to get out of here. Take one of those pre-honeymoon staycations up in Salt Lake.”

  Zach felt his face light up.

  Nev continued. “Don’t get too excited. I’m still not going to marry you. But getting away from everything here. Just you and I. Time to talk. We’ve got some stuff to talk over. Hard conversations. They don’t happen here. Maybe I can figure out where I, we, stand.”

  “I’ll get clearance tomorrow morning,” Zach said, pulling her into his arms. Things were going to be okay. Once they cleared the decks. And he had something else he needed to say. He stepped back so he could watch her face. “I don’t want to spend our time together talking about Lizzie, but—”

  “She called me. Left a voice-mail.”

  “Good. Last night… She didn’t do anything wrong. It was me… And I didn’t mean to.” His excuses just sounded lame. But he wanted Nev to know that it wasn’t Lizzie’s fault. “It was me.”

  Nev waited. “Anything else?”

  If I’m going to make it right, then yes. “I don’t think I should drink any more. Not sure how to do that. Maybe ask Mannie for help.”

  Nev’s face relaxed ever so slightly. She pulled herself back in close and tucked her head under his chin. He clung to her and the opportunity she’d given him.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  LIZZIE GLANCED AROUND FLUSTERED, TOSSING garbage into the bin, shoving clothes into the closet.

  Rachael had begged to take Saj as soon as she heard Duke was coming over. Can I keep him all night? Duke had left a voice-mail. Do you want to talk? Or do you want to not talk and have someone there to not talk to? Lizzie realized that after her unpleasant chat with Zach and her phone message to Nev that she really did want to be distracted. Needed to be distracted. She said yes and told him she didn’t want to talk about last night.

  Lizzie heard the knock, but before she could get there, Duke came in the doorway, breathing heavy.

  “Did you run all the way or are you just happy to see me?” She pushed him backwards against the wall.

  Lizzie felt her own breaths shorten as Duke’s face moved toward her. Her heart pounded. She hoped her breath didn’t stink. Or anything else for that matter. Was it yesterday she’d taken a shower? Yes, before the Breakfast Club Church had gone to hell.

  Duke pulled back right before their lips met. “Close your eyes.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You implied that you trusted me, but could not trust yourself.”

  “Yeah, but.”

  “Trust me. Please.”

  “Okay. Can I have a blindfold?”

  Duke laughed. “I thought it might come to this.” He whipped a blue bandanna out of his pocket. And spun it around itself.

  Lizzie pulled herself into him as he covered her eyes. Her heart beat faster. She felt his hot breath on her forehead as the bandanna tightened and his hands smoothed the hair underneath so it didn’t pull. Lips touched her hairline. The lips stayed there for a moment as his hands fell to her back. She couldn’t see except for a small glow of light at the edges of her blindfold. She was completely helpless in his arms. Heat raced from her core to the tips of her being. The heat in her groin made her want to touch herself.

  “Duke?”

  “Yes,” his voice floated over her head.

  “I trust you.”

  He released her and stepped back his hands coming down her arms to hold hers in his. “Come with me. We’re going somewhere special.”

  She felt him move to the side and release her hand.

  She closed her eyes, despite the bandanna.

  He led her outside. “Why the blindfold?”

  “If you don’t see where I take you, you can’t tell anyone where it is.”

  “Oooh. A secret place.”

  “My truck is around the corner. You sure you’re good with this?”

  “Pretty sure.”

  They drove in silence. Duke reached over regularly to hold her hand. He flipped through music, stopping on “We Gotta Get Out of This Place.” Finally, he said, “Provo is not home for you, is it? Even if your family is here.”

  “Yeah. But where else would we go? It’s pretty nasty out there.”

  “It’s nasty in here. Even worse for you.”

  “Thanks,” Lizzie said softly. “Really. I mean it. But for now… Shut up. Give me my surprise, let me live in today for a little bit.”

  “Sounds good. We’re almost there.”

  When the truck rolled to a stop, Lizzie sat still as his door slammed and she heard him run around to her side. The door opened.

  “Give me your hand.”

  “Can’t I take this off now?”

  “A bit of a step. Here.”

  His other arm guided her, slipping in around her waist and pulling her close to him as he helped her step down.

  “We’re going to walk forward and around back, then up some steps.”

  The heat she’d felt when he kissed her forehead rushed back. His arm was firm on her hip keeping her safe. For the moment she didn’t mind. She walked where she was guided. The ground underneath felt like gravel. Didn’t seem to have snow.

  “Steps. Four, three, two, one. Step forward a few feet and then to the right so I can open the door.”

  Lizzie did as he told. She heard a series of punches and then an electric lock releasing.

  Duke chuckled. “The code is 8675309. I thought you’d appreciate it. And it would be easy to remember.”

  “Yeah. I suck at remembering number unless I can sing them.” She heard the door open and music playing in the background. A Sarah McLachlan song, “Good Enough.”

  The door closed behind her and Lizzie heard the deadbolt flip into place. She let herself be lead forward. The floor under her feet changed from something hard l
ike tile to carpet. She breathed in deeply. Something smelled off, like death but it wasn’t strong. A slight scent of wood smoke tickled deep inside her nose.

  “Sorry for the smell. The former owner permanently occupies the foyer. Figured it would let people think the house hadn’t been explored.”

  “The next step’s a doozy, so I need to take your blindfold off.”

  “All right.” She wanted him to touch her again.

  He gently pulled her around to face him. She felt his hands on her shoulders undoing the knot at the back of her head. When the bandana fell she blinked, leaned forward and kissed him. The warmth of his lips on hers made her want to push him against the walls and rip his clothes off. Pregnancy hormones didn’t really make sense. Why should she want sex more when she couldn’t have any more kids than the one that was already inside her?

  She leaned in and pressed against him.

  “Wait. Do you like the house?”

  Lizzie glanced around. The hallway was lined with doors and ended in a bookshelf. “It’s a house.”

  Duke marched to the end of the hall and began moving books. Then he reached up and she heard a click. He pulled the bookcase toward himself. It was a door, now ajar. A light bulb on a string shown harshly on her newly reopened eyes. “It’s a secret passage? How’d you find it?”

  “It was open when I tagged the house.” His smiled shifted. “Hey, don’t you want to still jump my bones?”

  “Later. Come on.” She reached back and grasped Duke’s hand, pulling him forward. The music floating in the air around them switched to Sheryl Crow’s Aldous Huxley song. She stepped gingerly into the stairwell. The steps were steep and skinny—almost like a ladder. Lizzie gripped the arm rail for stability. As she descended, the single LED array bulb brightened. The walls were lined with shelves: books, food, emergency supplies.

  Duke pulled the bookcase closed until it clicked. “The guy who lived here was a prepper, but not the usual.”

  They were locked in; a moment of panic swept her. She stared at him as he stepped down onto the floor. He grinned at her, not a dangerous grin, but more a 12-year-old’s “can-I-show-you-my-awesome-fort” grin.

  “What do you mean, ‘not the usual’?”