by Isla Jones
At the thought of it, a twist of nausea struck through me. I don’t know why.
“Sorry,” I whispered. I tucked the gun into my holster before I rubbed my hands over my face. “I—” My hands dropped to my sides. “Vicki and I, we heard noises. And you were taking a long time. We thought that maybe…” I licked my chapped lips and stared up at his cold eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
“So you shot a rat,” he said, slowly, “to protect me?”
I knew Castle. I knew him well enough to recognise a poor joke when I heard one.
Relief washed over me and I sank back against the wall. My lips curved into a crooked grin and I nodded. “I guess so,” I said. “Though, I’m not really sure I shot it. More like shot at it.”
“Aiming isn’t your strong suit,” he said. There was no judgement in his voice. “We’ll work on that.”
“You gonna teach me?” I asked with a smirk. There was always some truth to jokes, Summer had told me. In this instance, she would’ve been right.
“Yes.” He tucked his own gun away and regarded me. “We can start tomorrow.”
My brows shot up to my hairline. “Tomorrow?”
“You have other plans?” I saw the twitch of his lips, the rare fleeting ghost of a smile.
I scoffed. “Yeah, I have brunch with the girls.”
“You should cancel. Gun practice is more important than poached eggs and avocado.”
My smile faded, and I looked around the shop. “Where were you? When I came in here, it was empty—and I checked every room on the way.”
“I’ll show you,” he said.
Castle led the way up the corridor. The dull gleam of light shone ahead; the back door. Fleetingly, I thought of the light at the end of the tunnel. Is this what it would be like if I died? A grey, lifeless light at the end of dark, grimy passageway—and when I reached the light, I’d be stepping out into a desolate world of horrors?
Hell was brought to us, Leo had told me. We’re living in it.
Castle hauled me from my thoughts. He’d stopped at the door to the lounge room and reached for hand. I met him halfway and touched my fingers to his. Once he’d gripped on, he pulled me through the lounge to the fireplace—the fireplace that was coated in a thick layer of dust and … didn’t have a back.
I crouched down after Castle and peered into the fireplace. Just behind the tray where the wood was meant to be stacked was an open passageway. Whatever panel had been there before was gone now. I wondered if the deltas had found it like this or they’d discovered that there was a secret door there themselves.
“What’s down there?” I said.
“A cellar,” he replied. “A few cases of liquor, some car parts, and a room.”
“A room? What room? What’s in it?”
Castle shrugged, seeming unimpressed. “A pool table, poker set, ping-pong.”
“Ew,” I said, scrunching up my nose. “It’s a man cave.”
Castle almost grinned—my eyes caught the twitch again.
“Let me guess,” I sighed. “Mac and Adam are down there, and they’re never leaving.”
“You’re half-right. Mac and I went back outside for you and Vicki—” His eyes suddenly turned disapproving as he looked at me. “—She said you’d come inside already, and before I could go after you, you were shooting rats.”
“One rat. And I shot in its general direction.”
Castle turned his eyes on the fireplace. “This is a good place to stay,” he said. “The others will come here, it’s clear of infectees, and if another group manages to get inside, we can move through here.” He gestured his head to the passageway. “There’s an exit,” he added. “It opens in the shed—we’ll park the vehicles in there for a quick escape if things go bad.”
It almost sounded as though he was consulting with me, or at least trying to convince me.
Castle slid his gaze back to mine, and there was a patient question in the hues of his eyes.
I just shrugged. “Whatever.”
Castle made a noise. I don’t know whether it was a sigh or a humph.
“We should do something about the light,” I said. “It’s as dark as a coffin in here.” I waved my hand in front of my crinkled face. “It’s kind of stuffy, too.”
“Adam, you’re on the front—you can take a mattress,” said Castle.
Adam didn’t seem to mind Castle assigning him to the shop-front. The deltas had decided to split up their sleeping areas in the building. That way, they had a better chance of hearing intruders or rotters around the perimeter at night.
Adam stretched his arms above his head. “Anything is better than being crammed in a truck with those two love-birds for a week.”
Vicki and Mac—who were holding hands by the fireplace—took a step away from each other. I smiled at Vicki’s ashamed expression. There was nothing, I thought, for her to be embarrassed about. Everyone knew that they were in love. There was no point trying to hide it.
“Mac,” said Castle. “You and Vicki can take the rear of the building—I believe there was a bedroom close to the back entrance.”
Mac inclined his head. “The master room,” he said. “One door down from the entrance.”
Castle glanced at me. Our eyes touched for a fleeting second, but I suspected that the shadows in his eyes were doubts—he wasn’t sure if I would camp with him now that others were around.
“I’ll take the lounge room,” said Castle, his eyes lingering on mine again before averting to Adam. “Which is the third and final entrance to the area—via the passageway.”
“What about Winter?” said Vicki.
My eyes widened and swerved to her. Before I took in her small smile and soft eyes, I’d mistaken her intentions to be cruel—to be something Rose would’ve said.
“Well, where will Winter sleep?” pressed Vicki.
My cheeks were aflame. I cleared my throat and looked down at Cleo in my arms. “With her,” I said. “Where else?”
No one spoke. It was uncomfortable.
I shifted on the spot—by the shed roller door—and turned my gaze on the Jeep parked inside. The others had driven a pick-up truck to the meet-up point; the same chipped blue pick-up truck I’d driven to the medical clinic in with Leo; the same one I’d driven back to the camp with Castle in the back. The one that was there for the day everything changed, and I hadn’t known it.
“Ok,” said Mac. He clapped his hands together. “Let’s get sorted, then. I’d rather eat before the sun goes down.”
Castle didn’t take his eyes off of me. I refused to meet his gaze, knowing I would burn a brighter red than ever before. And, I didn’t know what to say to him.
Adam checked his watch. “We have four hours before sundown.” He looked at the Jeep, running his gaze over the boxes tied on top of it. “Please tell me that you’ve got food.”
Castle inclined his head, though his gaze still pierced through my temple. “Plenty,” he said. “Enough to last all five of us for another fortnight if we ration.”
Adam lolled back his head and laughed.
“The quicker we set up the base,” said Castle, “the quicker we eat.”
At Castle’s implied orders, everyone set to work—Vicki and Mac went straight to the vehicles to take the priority supplies inside (food, ammo, weapons, medical kits). Adam marched to the front of the shop to tidy up and set up a sleeping area.
And Castle—he waited for me to grab my bag from the Jeep before leading the way inside. He walked a few paces in front of me, and he said nothing, but the silence said it all.
I just didn’t have an answer for him.
Adam did great work of cleaning the kitchen.
As much I loathe to give him a compliment, it was earned. The counters were free of dirt and grime, and the floors had been swept clean of dust. The square dining table was pushed against the wall, and in the middle of the kitchen floor was a fire-pit.
Adam had surprised me. He’d
done well.
The thought of eating in the kitchen didn’t disgust me as much as it had done at first.
It was still day outside—barely—but the colder season ate away at the hours of light. Already, it had darkened in and outside. I’d lit candles around the kitchen—enough for each of us to take one—and combined with the fire, the kitchen had become my favourite room in the otherwise dark, dank building.
Vicki told of how she and Mac found Adam on the way to the meet-up point. They’d been pushed off the main road by a nest and had been forced down into small towns.
I tuned in and out of the story, switching between feeding Cleo pieces of my dinner—tinned macaroni and cheese—and glancing at the lovebirds. They were snuggled up on the couch taken from the lounge, and had a woollen blanket draped over them; Adam lazed on the armchair from the master bedroom, gorging himself on his second tin of custard; Castle and I sat at the two-person table against the wall, Cleo on the table-top, and Castle’s eyes on me. Whenever he thought I wasn’t paying attention, he looked at me. I suspected he wasn’t aware that I could feel the cool-touch of his eyes on my face.
“Who took the RV with the cargo?” asked Castle; his gaze finally wrenched away from me. “When I got to the vehicles, it was gone already.”
I frowned at him. “You and Leo were in the restricted RV when I’d gone to bed that night.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But when the attack struck, we were in the barn to assess the sick.”
My lips pursed. In Castle-language, ‘assess the sick’ meant to decide if they were worth taking with the group for the rest of the journey. Would he and Leo have left them behind to die, I wondered? Or would they have put them out of their misery before we’d moved on?
“It wasn’t there when I found Vicki out back,” said Mac. His soft eyes moved to Adam, inviting him to explain.
We all looked at Adam.
“I saw it,” he said. “I was on the roof, shooting the infectees and the others. Then, I heard saw it speed down a dirt road. I took that as my cue to abandon post and get to the vehicles.”
Castle nodded—he agreed that Adam did the right thing. And with that gesture, I was reminded of the complete lack of respect for human life they had. The survivors in our group had been expendable. I thought of the twin boys from the group; I’d never learned their names, but their faces would stay with me forever.
“Leo,” said Mac. He was staring at me. I stiffened. “He was looking for you in the house and the camp—did … did you see him?”
As I bowed my head, loose strands of hair masked the pallor of my face. I shook my head, suddenly feeling sick. He had been looking for me. In the midst of an attack, he risked his life to search for me—and I repaid him by leaving him behind to be eaten alive by rotters.
Not to mention I kissed his best-friend.
A kiss wasn’t terrible. It wasn’t as though I’d slept with Castle. But there were worse things, sometimes, than kissing and sex. Things like the stir of affection I have for Castle. Feelings I don’t understand.
“I saw him,” I said; my voice might have been quiet, but it ricocheted around the room like a scream. Everyone listened. “I saw him go down.”
Castle shared a look with the other deltas. There were unspoken words in their gazes; secrets.
“Leo is a survivor,” said Mac. “He’ll be all right.”
I got sick of everyone telling me I was wrong. I know what I saw, it haunts me every day, I dream about it, I cry over it. Instead of arguing, I simply swallowed back words and stared at the small fire in the stone-pit.
“Rose took my gun,” I said. It wasn’t an important detail, yet I itched to tell them. “She stole it when we were upstairs in the bathroom—”
“What was Rose doing with you?” asked Castle.
“I found her up there when I was looking for Cleo.” My fingers scratched behind the Chihuahua’s ear as I spoke about her. “Gretel was shooting out of the window, then she went down. I dropped my gun—Rose took it and left. Maybe she took the cargo?”
Adam shook his head. “She was running into the trees when I got the cars. Couldn’t have been her. And if Leo, or none of us have it, the defected deltas might.”
The only other options were James and Gretel. But they’d both died in the attack.
Castle ran his hands over his face. The force of his brewing rage touched me as he tried to reign it back in. They’d lost the cargo. Their mission had failed.
“What about Lisa?” I asked. “And Tatiana?”
I knew they weren’t deltas—Castle had told me as much, and they hadn’t been invited to the private meeting before the attack.
“Did they know about the cargo?”
Castle’s hands drifted from his face, revealing his bright green eyes. He considered me for a moment before his head dipped. “They didn’t know what it was—but I hope they do now.”
The room had shifted; even with the fire burning, a coldness had snuck in. The last hope of the mission rested on two outsiders, Lisa and Tatiana. Personally, I didn’t care a whole lot—I didn’t know what the cargo was or why it was so important. But in that moment, I suddenly felt as though I should care about the cargo.
It was almost as if all of our lives depended on it.
I stood in the doorway.
My eyes followed Castle around the living room as he pushed furniture against the unlit fireplace and walls. In the middle of the room, he’d set up two single mattress. They were draped in pillows and blankets, but they weren’t pushed together like I’d thought they would be.
Cleo shoved her nose against the musky carpet and sniffed, her tiny paws prancing underneath her. Castle reached his hand over his head and grabbed the scruff of his jumper; he pulled it off in one swift motion. The hem of his t-shirt rose, showing a slither of tanned skin. I wondered how much longer his tan would last.
As he unclasped his holster and kicked off his boots, he said, “You can take whichever mattress you want.” He tossed his holsters and guns onto the armchair. “If you want to sleep in another room, I’ll help you set up.”
“What happened?” My voice came out in a whisper; thoughts I didn’t really want to voice, but couldn’t contain any longer.
Castle stilled. His back faced me.
My hand reached back and grabbed the handle. I closed the door, making sure no one overheard. “It’s different,” I said. “Why?”
Castle kept his back to me. I sometimes think it makes it easier for him to talk if he can’t see me. Castle is a man who needs strength to feel secure in this world. He needs to be unaffected, indifferent and cold. I am none of those things. To him, I am weak. In a way, he’s right. But that’s not what deters him, it’s not what frightens him.
I frighten him—because his want of me makes him weak too.
“I didn’t know how you’d want to act around the others,” he said.
“I can’t imagine why anything would change between us,” I replied. “Unless you want it to—do you?”
Castle’s shoulders lifted; he was sighing, trying to find the words to mask what he truly wanted to say. Then, he turned to face me and I realised the mask he’d been looking for wasn’t of words. It was on his face, firmly over any emotion that might tint his marble eyes or tweak his stony face.
“You’re a distraction,” he said. His voice was sharp and arctic like icicles. “You were Leo’s distraction and now you’re mine.”
His words didn’t strike me. I’d gone numb all over.
I heard the hidden meaning: And look where that got Leo, look what happened to our mission because of you.
For a moment, however fleeting, I became what he so desperately fought to regain; unaffected, indifferent and cold.
He climbed into the mattress closest to the fireplace. “Good-night.”
THE FORGOTTEN TOWN
ENTRY FIFTEEN
Adam, I decided, loved heights. I’d bet that before the apocalypse, he was one of those mad adr
enaline junkies who jumped out of planes for kicks and dangled off of bridges for a selfie.
Adam could be as adrenaline-addicted as he wanted to be. It had him assigned to watch-shifts most of the time. He was on top of the shop with a few cans of soda, beef jerky and his guns. I’m not sure we needed someone on watch at the meet-up point—the landscape was wide and clear; we’d see people coming without a guard on the roof.
Though, I didn’t complain. It kept the asshole out of my way.
The days at the meet-point had been difficult. Adam only made it harder with his sneers and regular insults. The real challenge, however, was Castle.
At times, he drifted closer to me, made terrible jokes, and spent time with me. But then, he’d turn again, and distance himself like one would do a rotter. I was the rotter to him.
On the morning of the third day, I searched for Castle after leaving Cleo in the care of Vicki. She was tucked away in the study, reading Dickins books.
I found him in the secret cellar with Mac, playing pool.
“Castle,” I said. He didn’t look up; he bent over the green-felted table—the same shade as his eyes—and aimed for a blue striped ball. “Castle, can I talk to you?”
“You can,” he said, then hit the ball. It slammed into the far-right pocket. He straightened up and grabbed chalk. “What do you need to say?”
My jaw rolled and I crossed my arms over my chest. “You said you’d teach me how to shoot.”
“Later,” he said. The dismissal in his voice didn’t hurt me—it enraged me.
My blood warmed beneath my skin and my veins tingled. “It’s been three days—” The words gritted out from my clenched teeth. “—and all you’ve done is play pool and poker. It’s daylight—now would be the time to teach me.”
Mac was uncomfortable. He wandered over to the dart-board and inspected the scores as if they were the most fascinating pieces of art he’d ever seen.
