by Marks, C. C.
His dark gaze met mine and a crackle of electricity filled the air between us. I felt suddenly small and needy in the moment, like I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and squeeze me tightly. Maybe he felt it too because he shuffled a little closer until I could feel the warmth of his body melding with mine.
I took a step backwards and shook my head. My thoughts needed redirection as soon as possible. I needed to get away from him because my mind had taken on a life of its own, thinking impossible things, like what it would be like if Thomas kissed me.
Without looking back, I turned toward the stairs and ran. “I’ll meet you here again tomorrow. See you then.”
Once at the top, I chanced a look behind me, but he hadn’t followed, and I breathed a sigh of relief. What was wrong with me? One merciful deed and suddenly I saw Thomas as a bigger-than-life hero? Surely nothing had changed. It couldn’t have that quickly. He was still the same cynical, soon-to-be council member I found so reprehensible.
I quickly tucked the book behind the cabinet and tried without success to push thoughts of Thomas out of my mind.
I’d realized standing in front of him under the stairs, whether I wanted it to or not, something had changed, and it scared me almost as much as facing off a Draghoul with venom dripping from its fangs. It certainly seemed just as dangerous.
“Charlie, I’ve been looking for you.”
My relief grew at the sound of the jovial tone in Zeke’s voice. I turned toward him and thoughts of Thomas evaporated. “I’m ready. Couple more rounds of nightwatch, and we’ll have served our week.”
“Yeah, well, you’re lucky you’ve had me running the watch with you. I’m pretty sure you’d have been dragged off for Draghoul dinner by now if I hadn’t been by your side.”
“Ha! You’ve slowed me down. I’ve been holding back, so you wouldn’t get left behind.” The tension from my interaction with Thomas faded, and I slipped into the playful relationship I had with Zeke.
We started toward the front entrance, smirking all the way. “Bring it on tonight then, hotshot. If you’ve got it, let’s see it.”
“Alright, but I hope you’re hungry because I’m going to feed you my dust.”
Things felt normal again, balanced. If I were going to feel anything for anyone, it should be Zeke. He made me laugh and never made me feel weak, like a burden on the community, or even worse, a naïve fool who’d be easy prey for predators inside the walls as well as those outside.
Zeke was clearly good-looking, with a muscular build, laughing eyes, and dimples revealed with every smile. I’d never doubted his looks, and he already liked me. As a friend, of course, but if I revealed my secret to him, maybe he could think of me as something more.
We made it to the wide, echoing foyer right inside the front entrance. I glanced over and caught the competitive determination in Zeke’s eyes. He would take the challenge seriously, and probably out-distance me before we even reached the first tower, but I didn’t really care. A small part of me wished I could win, but the reality was, he was bigger and stronger, and much more athletic. I’d still give it my best.
We stepped out into the dusk of the day and turned toward the left, sprinting in the direction of the first tower about seventy-five yards away. Just as I predicted, he easily beat me there by several seconds, scrambled up and flipped the first switch. Rather than wait for him like I usually did though, I ran for the next tower, which stood another seventy five yards away, at a ninety-degree angle to the first one.
The moment I reached the ladder, I climbed at a reckless pace, barely hanging on as I slipped off two rungs. The minute I breached the doorway and threw myself toward the second switch, I caught a glimpse through a slit in the wall of Zeke running for the third tower.
The third tower was about a hundred yards on the opposite side of the quad through a small glade of apple trees behind the building. Though I couldn’t catch him, I was pretty sure, if I bypassed the third, I’d be first to the final tower, which completed the even rectangle made around the outside of the building. The towers created an elevated view over the outer wall and stood about half-way between the building and the perimeter of the shockwall. They were another level of needed security in a dangerous world.
Laughter rose in my chest, and I hurried down to the ground to make my way to the fourth tower. Just as I rounded the corner though, I slowed to a walk. I knew something was wrong. Zeke was nowhere to be seen, and a low keening noise sounded from the shadows to my right. Was it darker than usual? Did the air feel heavier than normal, like a massive storm was closing in? Or was my mind playing tricks?
In front of me, a silhouette emerged from behind the final tower. The stooped, limping gate told me everything I needed to know. At least one Draghoul had made it over the wall, and it was now heading in my direction.
My heart thumped so hard and fast, it felt like a fist trying to break free of my chest. The erratic sound of it reverberated loudly through my head. The image of the creature that scratched my mother as she slammed our bunker door shut with all her might, saving us from the monster I’d nearly let inside, crashed into my mind. I’d been so stupid, but I’d seen the face through the small porthole, and it had been the face of my cousin Claire. I thought she’d made it back to us. She’d be here to help me when my mother went into labor. But the minute I opened the door, she’d revealed a mouthful of vicious, pointed teeth. If my mother hadn’t been close behind me, I would be one of them now, but she’d saved me and lost her life in the process.
A high-pitched screech from the other side of the wall brought me back to the present. Faintly, a hint of a putrid odor floated on the breeze then dissipated quickly. I mashed myself against the side of the building, and the rough brick bit into my back. One thought became clear in my mind. I was going to die if I didn’t do something fast.
To my left was the front of the building and the main entrance. Though I could run to it before the creature reached me, the doors would be locked and barred, and no one would open them for me. It was an unbreakable rule.
The fourth tower loomed above me, but if I ran toward it, I’d run right into the claws of the monster. My eyes searched the wall behind me. As far as I knew, there were no hidden entrances or trapdoors here.
My only possible shelter was the third tower. Though I would be safe there for a short amount of time, once I was there, my options were limited. It would only be a short while until the tower was surrounded by a mass of Draghoul, but I didn’t have any other choice. Maybe Zeke was there, and together, we could figure out what to do.
Finally decided, I pushed off the wall and threw myself into a sprint for my life. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the figure change direction, moving ever closer to me. The tower still seemed so far away. My lungs burned and my legs ached, but I pumped my arms faster and pushed on. I couldn’t stop now. At this pace, I’d reach the tower with plenty of time to clamber up to safety.
Then the unthinkable happened. One minute I was going to make it, and the next I was sprawled on the ground. For a couple heartbeats, I couldn’t catch my breath, but when I finally did, the pain set in. Somehow, I’d hurt my knee, and it was throbbing already.
I flipped onto my back and lifted it to see the damage. My pants were torn at the knee. Blood oozed from a deep cut. I’d gashed it on something sharp, and the wound was bad, but one look at the speed with which the monster was closing the distance, and I knew a bleeding knee was the least of my worries.
With all my might, I pushed to a standing position and hurriedly limped in the direction of the tower. Each time I put pressure on the injured leg, I couldn’t repress my cries of pain.
Someone shouted my name, but I pushed on, not wanting to look back and see how close the creature really was. I could feel it getting closer. I had to make it to the tower.
Focused completely on the ladder in front of me, I cried out as I went down again. I wasn’t going to make it. The realization brought on sobs as I patted th
e ground for any kind of weapon. It would be useless, but I wasn’t going down without a fight.
My shaky hands brushed a few small stones, and I gathered them as quickly as I could. I rose to my good knee and reared back my arm. Something about the creature seemed familiar the closer it got. It was no longer moving with the stooped, dragging pace from a few moments ago.
As soon as the monster was in range, I let fly three rocks, right at its head. Though two missed completely, one connected right on its forehead.
It cried out in a familiar voice as its hand flew up to cover the small wound. I reached to the ground to find more projectiles. Maybe it would rip me to shreds, but it wouldn’t walk away uninjured if I had anything to do with it.
“Charlie, dammit! It’s me. Stop throwing rocks.”
I stopped mid-throw and stared at the shadowed figure just feet from me. Zeke had a distinctively deep voice. It was Zeke. The whole time I’d been scared out of my mind, Zeke had been the monstrous figure. I sagged in relief and dropped to the ground, working hard to slow my sawing breaths.
Zeke, only Zeke. The idea became clear in my confusion, and anger washed over me in waves. “What the frack were you doing? I thought I was going to die?”
A low chuckle sounded from his direction. “Did you piss your pants, buddy boy?”
Though my clothes felt wet from gobs of sweat, I hadn’t urinated on myself thankfully. “No! I didn’t pee myself, no thanks to you. I got hurt though.”
He loomed over me. “Oh, that’s nothing. Dr. Graham’ll kiss it and put a piece of cotton over it.”
I propped myself on my elbows and glared. Was it just a little while ago, I thought I might feel something for Zeke? Right now, the only thing I felt was a need to kick him—hard. “A kiss? Cotton over it? Is that what happened to you? Is that why you’re so ugly? You didn’t heal right?”
“Ah, but my dad told me I was purty.”
I winced as I worked myself to a standing position. “Well, he lied. How’s your head?”
He reached a hand up and rubbed the knot rising where my rock hit true. “I’ve got a little headache. Nice aim. I’m glad you didn’t connect with all your throws. You’d probably have to drag me to the tower.”
“Nah, I’d just leave you to be some lucky Draghoul’s meal.”
At that moment, a chorus of keening cries struck up outside the wall, quickly putting an end to our banter.
Zeke started toward the third tower as he spoke, “Go on to Thomas. I’ve still got to throw the third switch. I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.”
“Ugh! You haven’t thrown the third switch? You’ll never make it in time.”
“We’ll see.”
I yelled after him, “Serves you right for playing around.”
I limped as quickly as the pain in my knee would allow to the fourth tower. I was out of breath by the time I reached the ladder, but I began to climb, favoring my un-injured knee.
As I reached the top, Thomas dragged me the rest of the way into the tower. “What was that? Are you okay?”
My knee throbbed in pain, and I could feel my pant leg sticking to my shin, more than likely from the blood trickling from my wound, but I didn’t want Thomas to think I was completely helpless. “It’s nothing. I got scraped up.”
His almost-black eyes stared in confusion. “What were you running from? Zeke?”
“He stepped out from behind the tower, and in the shadows, I thought he looked like a Draghoul. I just got scared. That’s all.”
“That idiot! The minute he gets here, I’m going to knock some sense into him.” I’d never seen Thomas so tense or emotional. He was usually so reserved, but at the moment, he looked like he was ready to chew a hole through the side of the tower. His muscles bunched under his sweatshirt as he paced back and forth in the small space.
“You can’t say anything to him.”
“Oh, yes, I can. He’s going to know not to mess with you.”
“But he’ll wonder why. He’ll wonder what’s so special about me. You said you’d act normal around everyone else.”
He lifted his hands to each side of his head and scrubbed through his hair. A frustrated sound rose from his chest. “You’re right, but I hate that you’re right. He deserves a fist upside his head.”
“Who deserves a fist upside his head?” Zeke stood in the doorway of the tower.
“Who do you think, Zeke?”
“What’d I do?” His gaze met mine briefly before swinging back toward Thomas. “It was just a joke.”
Despite the fact I thought we’d both agreed he wouldn’t react, Thomas crossed the space and pushed Zeke up against the side of the tower, his arm across his neck.
“You shouldn’t be fooling around on nightwatch. Charlie got hurt.”
I pulled at Thomas’s arm to try to free it from Zeke’s windpipe, but it didn’t budge.
Zeke’s voice sounded like it was bubbling out of his throat, “I…did…too.”
With a groan, Thomas released him, and Zeke sucked in deep breaths to fill his empty lungs.
“What’s the big deal? I was just joking. You’re too serious.” Zeke’s voice sounded rough and scratchy as he stomped to the metal, hinged door that stood wide open to the side of the hole we needed to scramble through right now. “Can’t even have a little fun. Charlie’s fine, aren’t you?”
I gave a slow nod. Far from fine, I just wanted the tension to ease.
“See! I don’t think you’d know how to have a little fun, if it were strictly written in the Council’s rulebook. Get over yourself.”
He disappeared down the ladder to the tunnels below.
“One of these days, he’s going to have to grow up, do something unselfish for once.” He ran a hand down his face in a weary gesture. “I hope he does it before he gets someone killed.”
He threw the fourth and final switch, arming the shockwall that surrounded our building. Immediately, the sound of several creatures frying on the razor wire fence drew our attention outside. Through the windows, thanks to Zeke’s prank, I saw just how close the Draghoul had come to breaching our security. Thomas might be right. Zeke’s fun had put the whole community at risk. If he didn’t take things more seriously, someone would die.
“Come on. Let’s get below in case one got through.”
Chapter 8
I know now why Jonas is so happy to throw his wife to the Draghoul. I don’t really know how to feel about the fact that I have an older brother, one who thinks Jonas is his father, but the truth is, we have the same father. Melanie, Jonas’s wife, came to see my mother, to beg to be able to tell Peter about us. She wanted him to know who his real father was. I wasn’t supposed to be in the room, but I stood just outside the door, listening. Apparently, before my mother and father were together, even when Melanie was married to Jonas, my father and she had a relationship, an affair. Peter was the result. I sat there, my mouth wide open, unsure what I should do. Or, even how I should feel.
No wonder Jonas hated his wife. But now she worried what would happen to Peter once she was gone. Jonas refused to let him go with Melanie. Who would take care of him? Who would protect him from Jonas’s hatred?
Of course, my mother thought it was for the best to keep it quiet for now. With all the big to-do surrounding the women’s looming expulsion, she thought it might upset things further. Instead, she assured Melanie that my father would approach Peter after we were gone, and finally tell him the truth. But, from the way my mother and Melanie spoke, I’m not even sure my father knows he’s Peter’s real dad. Is that even possible?
I closed the book unable to comprehend what I’d read. Did Peter know the truth? Had his real father explained everything to him? Nothing in his behavior suggested he thought anyone else other than Jonas was his father. And where was this other man? He should be with Victor, but Victor was all alone. It was too much for my brain to puzzle out, but the more I read, the more I learned the community was as much a battlefield as the De
ad Forest at night, and I wasn’t sure I was any safer on the inside of the wall.
A week later, I was relieved to be free of nightwatch and anxious to read more of the journal every chance I got. The ins and outs of this community were more drama-filled than any television show I used to watch. How I missed television! And chocolate. What I wouldn’t give for a giant bag of Hershey Kisses right about now.
Zeke moped for a couple days after our race, but he stopped pouting eventually and acted like the whole pretending-to-be-a-Draghoul thing never happened. I was still shaken up, and my knee was healing slowly. And most irritating of all, I couldn’t shake the sensation I was in imminent danger.
True to his word, Thomas met me every evening under the stairs. We found a room not too far away where we could close the door and not worry about anyone coming along, asking questions I didn’t have answers for.
Turned out, I was not the best student when it came to self-defense. We were on the fourth night of me attempting to punch and “put my hips into it,” whatever that meant. It was all I could do to keep up with Thomas’s pace, especially with my freshly stitched gash on my knee.
We only met for a short amount of time, so he felt like he had to fill it up with as much as he could. From the minute I walked through the door, I was kicking over and over with my good leg and punching until my arms ached. We always ended each session with me attempting to fend off an attack by Thomas. Needless to say, I never got more than one punch or kick in before he had me completely restrained, one arm behind my back, the other wrapped around the front of my body. At this rate, I might as well lay down and give up at the first sign of a fight.
Tonight, I was determined to at least get in a few more blows before he demonstrated just how weak I was by twisting me into a loopy vine and pinning me tightly to the ground. If only I could catch him unaware.
“Okay, I think that’s enough for tonight. Now…”
