I turned back to Jack saying, “Yeah, but how long do you think it will take them to starve? Weeks? Months even?”
He sighed before answering, and I could hear the weariness in his voice, as if he too had the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I don’t know, Angie. I just don’t fucking know. I do, however, think it’s not safe to stay here long.” He gave a long exhale of cigarette smoke and sunk further into the bench.
I cocked an eyebrow and sat up a little straighter, interested to hear the rest. “Why do you say that?”
“As well guarded as we are, I think we’re just sitting ducks at this point, and eventually,” he turned to look directly at me, “They will storm the gates.” I wanted to laugh, but found nothing really humorous at his statement. He was right, and I completely agreed with him. “I think we should all go to your island.” Jack reached up and pushed a lock of my hair behind my ears as he said this, and half smiled at me. “It’s probably safer there then here; surrounded by people with guns, who don’t know any more than we do.”
I just sat there, staring at him. My pulse raced a million miles a minute at his light touch, and I momentarily wondered if I was going to faint, but at the same time didn’t miss the trust lighting his eyes, and the familial look on his face. Well fuck. He trusted me, and I was pretty sure I was going to let him down and get us all killed, as I had no fucking clue what I was doing. My stomach felt like lead at this thought, and now I felt like throwing up. No one had ever had faith in me before; hell, I didn’t have a lot of faith in myself. Yet here was this guy, and these kids, who were willing to follow me blindly to certain death. Damn it all to Hell, now shit really just got real.
There were too many emotions, and they all clogged my throat, making words impossible. I swallowed hard a few times, trying to clear them before I finally managed words. “I was thinking the same thing. I think we could probably stay a few days, just to rest and refuel, but then we should head out. All of us.” I said the last part poignantly; sure that he would catch my drift.
Jack smiled at me. “I knew you would see the light. It just took a minute to get through that dense skull of yours,” he tapped my temple lightly to illustrate his words.
I laughed and playfully punched his shoulder, “Ass.”
“You still love me, though,” he said with a wink, before sitting back again.
For a split second my heart stopped at his words, before resuming its steady pace. Did I love him? Was it possible to love someone after such a short time? I wanted to think about this further, but knew it was a slippery slope to embark upon. Besides, he was probably just kidding; although with him, it was hard to tell.
I turned back to watch the world burn, and felt his hand slide into mine. It was a little thing, but as our fingers entwined, I felt a little better knowing that despite it all, there was still at least one other person on this planet who was just as scared as I was. Below us was a city on fire, and surely the rest of the world mirrored this devastation and destruction. There was no knowing if we would live, or if there would be anything left worth living for, yet here we sat, silently bearing witness to the end of the world; holding hands.
I must have dozed off because I was Jack gently shaking my shoulder was brought to my attention. “Angie, let’s go,” he was saying softly as he attempted to rouse me.
“Mmmmphrrm,” I said back as I opened my eyes and looked about. I noticed that at some point the kids and Roscoe had joined us; yawning and shaking the sleep from their eyes long enough to make it back to the box. I stood up and stretched; bones still weary and muscles now cramped from sleeping on the bench, and wordlessly began to follow Jack as he led us back through the restaurant. It was deserted now, and all the chairs were stacked on the tables for the night.
Emerging back out into the main corridor, we headed for the elevator, and I couldn’t help but notice the place was a ghost town, save for the occasional guard. There was one posted at the elevator door now, and we had to show our badges to gain access. Apparently they were taking their segregation of the floors pretty seriously. Too bad they didn’t realize that some of the women and children were the biggest threat.
The elevator pinged, announcing our floor, and we shuffled through the door, heading across the large corridor to the little hallway where the club boxes were. We passed the guard and I noticed it wasn’t the same one from before, and thusly had to again display our badges for inspection. Once assured we were in the right place, he stepped aside to let us pass.
Trudging up the little staircase, we rounded the corner and walked down the hall a few paces before at last finding our door. Jack entered first; cautiously inspecting the place to make sure no surprises awaited us, before motioning the coast was clear. Normally I would have been offended he had taken the job upon himself, but I was too tired to care.
Shuffling over to the door on the left, I entered our room, walked right over to my makeshift bed, tossed my glasses to the floor and flopped myself down, as ungracefully as I had ever flopped before. I heard Jack snicker at me, and face still lodged in my pillow, “Mmmphrm,” was all I countered back at him. I was just too pooped to form actual words, let alone complete sentences at the moment.
“You’re too fucking cute, Angie. I knew you would wear down eventually, and am somewhat surprised you made it as long as you did.” I heard Jack saying this, but didn’t lift my head from the pillow to see his expression or to shoot him a dirty look. I sensed the teasing in his voice, and decided it wasn’t serious enough to comment.
The sounds of fabric ruffling, and Jack groaning as he shifted into a more comfortable position was the last sounds I heard before I drifted to sleep.
Chapter 12: Team: Purple.
I was yanked from my dreams by a wet tongue. Considering I had been dreaming Jack and I had been dancing on a beach and making out, I wasn’t immediately alarmed, until I regained a little more awareness, along with the realization I had been dreaming.
“Ugh, Roscoe! Stop that!” I reached my hand up to push the dog away, and was met with a furry wall. Pulling my head off the pillow, I cracked open an eye to give the dog my best death stare. He just panted at me, and nudged my hand. Damn cute dogs and their adorable faces would the death of me.
I sat up, and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I was still sore, but not nearly as tired, considering that had been the first real sleep I had seen in days; although given the chance, could probably sleep some more. I looked over at Jack, who was still snoring away, draped over the sofa. “Damn, that guy could sleep through anything,” I muttered to myself and shook my head. Must be nice. I looked over at the door, and noticed it was open and I could see Ty and Chloe standing there impatiently staring back at me.
“C’mon Angie, we’re hungry.” Chloe whined while crossing her arms over her chest and pouting at me. The pitiful looks on their faces would lead you to believe they hadn’t eaten in days.
I rolled back over with a groan. “You guys can eat without us. Just take the dog, and make sure you both have guns. Ty, don’t let your sister out of your sight; I don’t trust that Wells kid.”
Chloe huffed before I heard her footsteps head for the door.
“Will do. Catch you guys later,” was all Ty said as he followed his sister out, and shut the door behind them.
Flipping onto my back, I closed my eyes and tried to relax enough to fall back asleep, but it was no use. I was wide awake, and curious about the day. After a few more minutes of this, I heaved a sigh and sat back up. I looked over at Jack; jealous that he hadn’t been woken up to dog slobber, and with a sly smile, decided that if I had to be up, so did he.
Throwing my legs over the side of my bed, I stood and put myself to rights. I bent down, and grabbed my glasses; being sure to check the lenses for smudges, as I did every morning. Once I was sure they were okay, I put them on my face and looked down at myself. Somehow in my sleep I had managed to tangle myself up in my clothes, and straightening myself out, crept over to Jack
. I wasn’t sure why I bothered to creep; I was pretty sure a herd of elephants could have been doing the Samba through the room and he would still be out, but I did.
Stopping next to the sofa, I paused to evaluate the situation at hand. Sure, I wanted to wake him, and I wanted it to be funny and a little mean, but it was hard to not just stand there and stare at him. He had taken his shirt off, and for the first time I got a really good look at him.
Fuck, the man was a damned Greek God. No chest hair, although he had a dark blond trail dipping below his navel; he looked like a warrior. Tattoos and scars were scattered about his chest, abdomen and arms, and although I couldn’t see any sort of a pattern, I was sure each tattoo probably had some meaning, although it was likely only he would really know. They weren’t your average pictures or collages most people have, but each was unusual and kind of weird, and I couldn’t really tell what each one was. I had to assume they somehow signified a life event or a project he had worked on, as there were a couple that resembled themes from a few of the movies he had done that I had seen.
Even in sleep his brow was still furrowed, as if there were no escape from the intensity of his thoughts, or his melancholy. I had to wonder at what kind of life he had lived before all this. Was he as lonely and as empty as I had been?
Perhaps one day I would get to ask him about that, as well as his tattoos, but not today. No, today I had to wake him before he woke up to find me leering down at him like a serial killer. Yeah, that wouldn’t be good.
I gave up searching for a fun and playful way of waking him, and resorted to just shaking his shoulder. “Jack, it’s time to get up.” Nothing. He just lay there and continued to snore. “Jack,” I said a little louder. Still no response. “JACK!” I half yelled as I shook him more violently.
“Mmm,” he finally grumbled at me. “Are we under attack?” This he said without even opening his eyes.
“Uh, no, it’s just morning.” I didn’t know how else to respond. I hadn’t had any coffee, and wasn’t exactly firing on all pistons yet. Although the thought of coffee made me drool a little; there had to be coffee somewhere around here.
“Then there’s no rush to get up yet,” he mumbled in answer. Before I could respond he reached over, grabbed my arm, and pulled me down onto the sofa next to him. He spooned up behind me and nestled his face into the back of my neck while wrapping his arm around my waist. Well, this was an unusual turn of events. I worried for a minute that perhaps I had fallen back asleep and was dreaming again, but the rumble in my stomach let me know I was well and truly awake.
“Mmm. You’re hungry,” he grumbled into my neck, and I could feel the vibrations of his words from his chest, which was pressed tightly to my back.
“Uh, yeah, I guess…” I trailed off; head too cloudy with his nearness to think of anything better to say.
“Just a few more minutes and we’ll go eat. Are the kids still here?”
“No, they just left for the restaurant, but not before making sure to wake me up and let me know. I also made sure Ty knows to keep an eye on Chloe with that Wells kid lurking about.” I didn’t feel the need to voice any further concern, as from our conversation last night, knew he felt the same as I did about him.
We lay there for a few more minutes, and I honestly could’ve ignored my bladder for an eternity if it meant staying in his arms. It had been longer than I cared to remember since I had just been held, and fuck, did it feel good. But alas, all good things must come to an end as I let out a sigh. “C’mon, we should get up.” I made a move, and felt his arm tighten around me.
“I don’t want to,” I felt more than heard his words on my neck. I couldn’t argue his reasoning, and was silent for a moment until I felt his stomach rumble, then heard him fart. “Mmm,” I felt him smile and snicker into my neck.
I started to giggle as I said, “It’s a good thing this spoon isn’t the other way around,” and then my giggle turned into a full on laugh. I don’t care who you are; farting is funny.
Jack joined in my laughter, and between chuckles, “Sorry.”
This time when I made a move to get up, he didn’t stop me, and I rolled off the sofa and stood. I turned to see him grimace before moving to get up too. “Fuck, I feel like I could sleep for another week,” he said as he stretched out his limbs and rolled his neck. I watched him run his hands through his hair and down the stubble on his cheeks before he heaved one last great sigh and turned to look at me. “Well, shall we?”
I smiled and nodded, as I walked back to my bed and slipped the flip flops back on, and grabbed a handgun, sticking it into the waist of my pants. Safe area or not, I didn’t want to be unarmed. Jack did the same after pulling his muscle shirt and shoes back on, and we headed for the door of the main suite.
We stepped out into the still creepy hall, over the stairs, and nodded at the new guard as we passed. He nodded back, and took a good long look at our faces; committing them to memory.
As we emerged into the main corridor, I noticed there were a few other people milling about; mostly moms with their kids, all headed one way or another. I didn’t stop to really study anyone, as my bladder was ready to burst, and instead looked around for the restroom.
Spotting the sign just down to our right, I started in that direction, with Jack picking up the rear. We entered the correctly labeled doors to do our business.
Once I was done, I walked over to the row of sinks to wash my hands, and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I had to admit I looked pretty ghastly and the sight of myself made me cringe a little. I peered into my eyes, and took in the whole sight. There was a sallow quality to my cheeks, as if they had deflated somehow, and enough luggage under my eyes for a summer in Europe. I looked like me, but not; at the same time. It was as if the last two days had aged me two decades and my face told the whole tale.
Throughout the course of our lives, I know we all inspect ourselves in a mirror, (well, girls do at least) looking for signs that we are different; that we are changed. Birthdays, big life events, losing our virginity…things of that nature. But usually when we do this, we still look the same as we had before.
Not this time. This time I could see the toll of the world ending staring back at me from the haunted depths of my bluish grey eyes, and the frown of my unremarkable mouth. Even the freckles spattered across the bridge of my nose looked sad. I heaved a great sigh at the bag lady staring back at me and decided it didn’t matter how gruesome I looked as long as I survived.
I dried my hands and walked back out the door to find Jack waiting patiently for me. Wordlessly, we started for the top level, and back to the restaurant.
After we piled our plates with mini boxes of cereal and milk, we headed over to the table where Chloe and Ty were still picking at their breakfast. Looking around, I noticed that no one else was in here, but then again, it was pretty late in the morning, and everyone else must have already eaten. We sat down, and the four of us ate in silence.
I was almost finished with my Coco Puffs, when a young woman in digis came over to our table.
“Hi, I’m Private Winters, and I have been assigned to escort you to training,” she smiled at each of us in turn as she spoke.
“Training? What kind of training?” Ty asked with his mouth still full of Captain Crunch as he put his spoon down.
She smiled again, and relaxed her stance. “Everyone at Safe Area is required to learn basic weapons training, and those who are able are assigned to various duties.” She stood back a few paces and waited for us to get up from the table.
We all shared a look, none too thrilled over this turn of events, but figuring we would go along for now. In sync, we rose and carried our bowls back to the dish area, where I could see a kitchen attendant through the window scrubbing away at the sinks. I would really be pissed off if this ended up being my assignment.
Private Winters then led us back out of the restaurant and over to the elevator bank, where she hit the down button, and stood patiently f
or the lift. None of us had uttered a word still, although Jack must have felt my anxiety, as he grabbed my hand, and smiled reassuringly at me. “It’s gonna be okay, Angie,” he whispered to me as we stepped through the door.
“I’m not so sure about that,” I countered back in a whisper, assessing Private Winters. She was maybe early twenties, pretty and tan. She had that naturally pretty shade of milk chocolate hair pulled back into a simple bun, and sharp mocha eyes that seemed as if they didn’t miss much. That was about all I could say, as the rest of her was done up just as uniformly as the rest of the military presence around here.
We emerged on the first floor, and were led down a twisting maze of hallways, until auditorium doors stood before us. “In here please,” Winters said with a smile as she pulled the door open for us. I couldn’t hide my concern as I glanced nervously at Jack as we walked into the theater.
Stepping into the room, I paused and looked around. The place was pretty big, and there were a sea of faces all aimed at the stage in the front. I had to stop and appreciate the beauty of the architecture as we aimed ourselves towards an empty row in the back.
White columns lined the walls and black fabric was draped artfully around the beams. The walls were an innocent shade of eggshell, and I was willing to bet the acoustics were superb. During my inspection, it caught my notice that multicolored pieces of paper were taped to each column, which seemed a bit odd. I pulled my badge from the pocket of my pants, and saw that above my name and age, there was also a purple dot. I looked back up at the columns, and scanned the colors, taking notice of the one with a purple piece of paper hanging to it. Apparently we were going to be grouped by colors at some point, if I were reading the signs accurately.
The four of us sat down in our row, and waited patiently for what was to happen next. For a moment, I was concerned that maybe we had been coerced into a sermon after all, but was filled with relief when I caught sight of the stage. There stood Ian talking quietly to another man next to a small podium which stood in front of a projector screen. He nodded at the man, then turned and walked over to the podium and stood silently waiting for the chatter in the theater to settle down before addressing us.
Least Likely To Survive Page 14
