Ha, maybe Mr. Baseball Cap was right. Maybe there isn't such thing as "good guys" anymore. What if there really never was such a thing, it was always a fallacy. It’s just people, some trying, some not, and some doing better than others.
Now, though, my heart wants to be the change as much as the memory of my mother that haunts me. This is out of control and I cannot and will not sit idly by any longer.
I love Jake. I love Jamie and Kye. But they are not the only ones left. They can't be. People are suffering and dying because of a corrupt government who are trying to trick us into believing they will help us.
It's not right!
I won't stand for it anymore. I can do this. I know it. I feel it in my bones. No more talk. No more planning. It’s time for action.
I rise to my feet, feeling as if an electrical charge is coursing through every inch of my body. It pushes me forward, leading meto the stairs where Jake is sitting at the top ledge as he listens to the sounds from outside.
I’m on top of him before I can stop myself. Honestly, I don’t want to stop. I wrap myself in his lap and pull his face to mine. He’s wrapping me into his arms, and I want to take in every inch of him that I can. From his thick blond brows to his steel eyes, his square jaw line and light stubble of his chin. I trace around his face, while his beautiful eyes do the same to mine.
I wrap my hand into his hair, pulling his face to mine and feeling his full lips in mine. Hunger rips through my body as we fold into each other as tightly as possible. He tips my head backwards, kissing my neck and sending quivers up my spine and a quiet moan into my throat.
He must sense it as much as I do. Our dwindling time together. The urgency in our touch is wild and unyielding. Our thirst for one another is only stopped when we hear a loud snore coming from the closed curtains some twenty feet away.
Jake groans on my chest and I giggle into his neck as we remember that we are not alone. We unwillingly detangle ourselves from each other, so we aren’t tempted. Instead, I lay between his legs with my back against his chest and his head leaning on top of mine.
When the storm subsides, I’ll be gone. A huge part of me is afraid I’ll never see Jake again. In this moment, my heart wants to be selfish. He’s the one thing I want the most. More than getting on base. More than finding Dad and Lauren. More than getting the cure.
It’s greedy really.
But I will not be selfish.
Chapter 35
The hurricane moved past us over night after dumping ginormous amounts of precipitation on us. We’re lucky to not have been flooded out down here. Still, we wanted to wait a few days more, to give the rain as much time to dry up as possible before going to check the damage outside.
Today is day number six.
It’s time. My head had been racing all night long, struggling to work through every detail of my plan. I don't even remember falling asleep. I must have, though, at least for a little while. When I wake again, the generator hums above my head and the clock on the wall reads six AM.
Jake and I slept on the couch together while Jamie and Kye slept behind the curtains on the spring coiled old mattress. He sleeps soundly beside me. I watch his chest rise and lower in slow deep movements. The muscles of his pecks rise and contract with each inhalation. He doesn't move as I rise out of bed, letting the cream-colored sheet fall to my empty spot. The cool autumn air prickles at the hairs on my legs, shifting from the abrupt temperature drop outside of bed.
I slip my familiar blue jeans on over my legs, holding onto the back of the couch to keep steady. My slow movements keep me quiet as not to wake anyone.
Jeans? Check; Shirt? Check; Shoes and socks? Check; Jacket, gun, knife? Check, check, and check.
It is almost as if my whole life has been leading up to this point. The pressure is nauseating and empowering all at once. I give the bunker one final sweep to see if there's anything else I need.
HIM. My pulse quickens, angrily, not wanting to leave him yet. My heart aches in it's at war with itself. One side knows that I have to leave. I have to get to Lauren and Dad. I have to do everything I can to help them, to help everyone. The other half of me yearns to be near him. I wish I could build a fortress around Jake, Jamie, Kye and I so that no one can get to us.
A small bout of sadness creeps into my reserve, threatening to overtake me with emotions. I lower myself over Jake, delicate and smooth, kissing his cheek. I fight back against the tears that try to spill down my cheeks as I turn my back to him.
The keys to Jamie's hatchback are hanging next to the jeep keys. I rub my fingers across the cut-out surface of cool metal still fighting with myself every step of the way.
Quit wasting time. I heave, scooping it off of the wooden hook. Leaving the bunker is surreal and strange. It is almost like I'm never going to see them again. Maybe I won't, the cynic in my head mutters.
When I reach the car planted in the bush wreckage, I clear the rotted limbs off of the black hatchback's hood. The limb breaks as I move it to the ground, leaving tiny crumbles on the hood and between my fingers. Shaking them off on my jeans, I climb into the car’s black leather inside, remembering the first time I got in it.
I remember Anna's hard face, burning with annoyance in her chocolate brown eyes. Even if I was some nobody that she'd never met before, she still, however begrudgingly, gave her life for mine. She risked herself the moment she got out of the car. Really, the moment she opened the door. She was good. Even underneath her sarcastic attitude, she was a hero.
If I can have an ounce of the same kind of courage Anna did, I think I'll be okay. The road curves and moves with the woods, leading me back to South River. The sun begins to rise, pushing the heavy fog out of the way with its long, stretching rays. It lifts itself above the horizon, bringing light to the dark crevices of the trees.
The car carves into the edges of the sharp turning freeway only a few minutes from the first exit into downtown. The seatbelt grows tighter on my chest, unsure of what to expect. The best I can hope for is a chance to e-mail Dad a final time. Maybe I'll have a chance to walk around and enjoy home one final time.
Exiting the interstate, the large bridge and fence reflects brightly in the sun. My heart flutters as I lighten my grip on the steering wheel. My home is beckoning me. Calling me back to a long-ago comfort.
I roll down my window as I slow down, allowing the wind to sweep across my face, the familiar scent of the muddy riverbank crosses with the nearby sea breeze. It lulls me into a false sense of security. It reminds me so much of before, of when none of this mattered. When I was young and carefree. When I loved nothing more than spending a lazy day on the river with Will, or on the beach with Lauren.
I stop the car at the edge of the gate, nudging it as close as I possibly can between the cement wall and another car.
Now that I'm here, a new fire stokes inside of me. It burns strong and bright, yet controlled. It fills me with growing strength. More determination with every assured step I take. Every stride leads me one step closer to Dad. One step closer to Lauren – and one step closer to being back with my new family; back in Jake's arms.
Reaching Dad and Mom's lab, the gentle hum of the generators ring into my ears once more. I climb the stairs two at a time to Dad's floor, swinging the badge out of my tight back pocket to scan it at the door. Every move feels like an acceleration, leaping in bounds just as my heart does.
Dad's computer comes to life, turning the fan inside with a clicking and a whirling sound.
His background image is of him and Mom at the beach during our last photo session. The smile that they share, the love. It strikes me in a peculiar way that I'll never be able to see her smile again. But Dad, I'll see his again. Soon.
My heart plummets momentarily as I pull up his e-mail. The draft label that once had several of our correspondence in it is now desolate of all but one. It must have been his own doing. The one that is left in drafts is addressed only to me.
Emma,
&
nbsp; I'm so sorry Mom is gone. I wish she wasn’t. I wish I would have been there to protect you both. I wish I would have realized what was going on sooner and gotten out.
I'll do whatever I can to help you and give you the information you need. If you can stay near the computer. I'm not sure how much longer the generators will last, regardless of the fact that they auto shut off at night.
Lauren is here. They brought her in a few months ago. If I see her, I'll tell her that you are okay.
Please be safe.
Love, Dad
I think that might be the longest email he's sent. He's right, though. Even with this tank being built to keep the building running for a long time, it’s bound to run empty at some point.
Lauren. She's there. She's alive. My heart rejoices at this thought, allowing me to breathe in a deep sigh of relief. I've got to get to her and show her there's hope. I have to show her that we can beat this; beat them.
I place my hand on the old worn keyboard, feeling the brittle rub of the faded letters on my fingertips. What should I write? What would be appropriate to send to the man who has now lost his son and his wife while working for the corrupt people who caused all of this... It's not his fault. He didn't mean for this to happen.
Dad,
I'm sorry that you've had to lose just as much as I have. We can change things though. We can fix it.
I'm coming. See you soon.
Love, Emma
I close out of the program and shut the computer back down. Elation swells in my chest as I think about being back with them soon.
The dreary white walls of the room hold me prisoner, my feet unwilling to leave yet. Instead, with a plan of their own, they lead me around the fluorescent lit room, stopping in front of family photos and collections of books. Taking every inch in.
My dad's interests varied widely, as evidenced by his furnishings. He may have prized his game-winning baseball, but he also found interest in psychology. He has one book in particular, placed in the center of all his microbiology books, but this one is faced out, allowing the cover to catch the eye of anyone who looks in its direction.
The clicking noise of the big double doors in the hall snaps me back into the moment. My heart seems to amplify in my chest, throwing its loud "tub-lubs" across the room. The sound seeps underneath the thick door, through the black door frame at the bottom.
I steady myself, wrapping my body inward to hold it all in. Not a sound, I think. Don't let them hear a single sound. With small, light steps, I walk to the sturdy grey office door. My hand reaches instinctively for my knife while my other hand presses against the hard door, expecting to feel what is on the other side.
I peep up on my tip toes, wobbling in my attempt to balance and look out the window at the same time. While the long ceiling lights emit a cream-colored glow down the hall, its blank walls and tightly closed office doors reveal nothing in which could have made that noise.
Then a shadow creeps up the wall to my right. The contrast eats into the white wall, hovering close to the ground and shuffling in and out of view. An arm flutters briefly into view. Its thin and youthful skin is a dark caramel color. Like lightning, the familiar arm flies back into the shadowed hall.
My feet groan from my effort to stay up. Slipping out of my center of gravity, I fall into the door with a low thud.
Crap! Well now I have to go out.
Something was so familiar about that arm. I wrench the door open, making it slam into the inside wall. Before I'm halfway into the hall, I see her small frame disappear through the double doors.
"Camryn? Hey, Camryn, wait! It's me, Emma." I punch through the doors, taking two steps at a time in order to catch up with her. If Camryn's here, Shae can't be far behind. My mind tugs at me, trying to tell me something, I don't yet realize.
With my mind elsewhere, my feet drop too far on one of these steps. The ground slips out from underneath my feet. Gravity loops its arms around my chest, forcing me backwards while my feet fly out in front of me.
My behind collides with the hard floor at the base of the stairs. My back arches into a curve, slamming into the corners of two different stairs. Searing pain cracks over my spine and my sides.
A groan of pain escapes my lips, unable to work past it. I feel as if I've ruptured my kidney and had the air sucked out of my hollow lungs all at once. The unyielding soreness etches into my brain, outlining everything in a terrible aching, sharpness. It blacks out my vision, filling it with nothing more than a million little pin pricks of light.
"Are you okay?" a little voice pokes through my blindness. Her voice is innocent and sweet with an air of caution in her question. I can tell she's not standing near me. The blindness recedes slowly, clearing a little more with each scrunch of the forehead I make with my hand as it rubs gingerly above my eyebrows.
With restoring vision, I can see Camryn's small head poking through one of the doors. Her long, naturally curly brown hair hangs over her shoulder.
Words don't quite seem able to escape my lips at the moment so instead I grimace, locking my hand into a thumbs up.
"I'm sorry," she says, stepping fully into the room. She looks almost identical to the last time I ran into her. Still, she is distinctly different at the same time.
Her bookbag still hangs on her shoulders and her purple sneakers still cover her feet, but I can tell she's grown. Her childlike face is slightly older, slightly wiser, and slightly thinner in her frame than it was before. Perhaps she has learned the hard way that naivety can be deadly.
"It's not your fault," I say, trying to extract myself from the ground. "I thought I saw you and I just wanted to be sure. How are you? Where's Shae?"
"She's gone." Camryn's tone catches me off guard, taking me away from my own pain and tossing me, headfirst, into hers. Her eyes shimmer, brightening the edges of her brown irises. The shimmer only deepens as a glaze crosses over them. The glaze breaks fast into tears, spilling over her reddened rims.
"No."
Camryn's tears turn into a thick down flow. She runs to me, slamming into my chest and wrapping her short arms around my waist.
"I'm so sorry, Camryn." The pain that I feel as she squeezes me has nothing on what she must be feeling. So young, so pure. To lose her sister and only source of protection in this world.
Her body is thin and extra frail in my arms. The only thing I want to do is feed her. I didn't notice exactly how small she had gotten until she threw herself into my arms.
"Shh, shh..." I lean down, whispering into her ear. I pat her tightly curled hair. "Camryn listen to me. I want you to stay with me. Do you think you would like that? I'm not going to force you, of course, but I'd really like you to."
Her head nods in my stomach, signaling her agreement.
"But listen," I say, lifting her chin to look at me. "I'm going somewhere that's different than out here. It's scary, but in a different way. I'll protect you there too. Do you still want to stay with me?"
She nods again as I pull her to the stairs, grabbing some crackers out of my pocket and handing them to her. Her eyes grow wide with surprise and the corners of her mouth curl into an excited smile. Her stomach rumbles as she tears the package’s ends, hungry with anticipation. I watch her place the cracker to her mouth, gleefully savoring that first bit. It warms me to see her so content and happy. Satisfied. She needs my protection. I'll do what I can to provide that for her.
I won't let her down. I can't. I'm going to keep pushing onward to protect people like her. Those who are lost and alone, who need help. We're going to bring back a world that she can grow up in; strong, healthy, and happy.
Camryn's knees twist into mine, holding out the crackers to offer the final two over to me. I shake my head no, laughing lightheartedly as she takes a giant bite into them. When she's finished, she wipes her hands across her blue Bermuda shorts, dusting the crumbs to the ground.
"You ready?" I ask. My body shakes as I rise too swift from the stairs. The tender places on
my back sting instantly like fire, letting me know they will most definitely turn into huge bruises by tomorrow.
"Are you?" she asks in return. She's perceptive, always has been. She reads the pain etched across my face, reminding me that I'll need to do a better job of hiding my expressions. Not only to keep her from being worried, either. I can't let people read me like a book anymore. It's dangerous. It'll get me killed.
"I'm okay. Come on, let's go."
We walk together out to the front door of the lobby. Is it selfish for me to feel a small amount of relief knowing that I'm not going to be doing this alone anymore?
Yes. But it would also be selfish to leave Camryn behind and on her own. She's barely nine-years-old. With no family to look after her, she'd starve. I can't do it. If she had said no to coming, then okay. But like this, no.
The sun is fully out at this time of day, throwing its bright light clear across the lobby. The light brings a breath of new life with it, helping to make the lobby look almost as pristine as it did in its operating days.
We step outside the building into the bright, hazy sun. The wind cuts through the warmth, whispering to me that fall is coming quick, and she is not one to be missed.
"Hold it!" A loud booming voice calls out before I see where it is coming from. Every inch of me freezes momentarily. My heart pauses, my blood stops rushing to my brain, my feet catch on the road.
Feet stomp into the road, their boots thundering against the black asphalt. In front of me, ten Army soldiers form a semi-circle, each one holding their guns out, ready to shoot.
Camryn yanks at my arm, tightening her grip and pulling her little body into me. I spin us around to see what options we have, but ten more soldiers stand behind us – trapping us in their circle.
"It's okay, Cam," I whisper to her as she whimpers beside me. Her body quivers as the men close in on us. "Remember what I said. Scary, but different. I'll protect you."
A Whisper in the Flame (The Ragers Series Book 1) Page 25
