by Dixon, Ruby
There's a fountain. I gasp in surprise because that's not something you expect to see in an auto- parts store. I don't know if someone set it up after the Rift or they just wanted to have a nice lobby in the Before, but it doesn't matter. There's a human-sized water fountain in there, big enough for someone to bathe in. I press my ear to the glass, but there's no trickle of water going inside. Doesn't matter. I still want it.
The scratchiness in my throat feels almost unbearable. So close and yet so far. Longingly, I give the fountain another look through the glass and then tug on the doors. The padlocked chains hold tight, only giving enough for me to slide a hand through. "Fuck!" It is beyond cruel to have water in an apocalypse and lock it away. I look over at Vaan and shake my head. "I don't suppose that fire of yours can melt chains, can it?"
He tilts his head, studying the door, and for a moment, I feel like he can understand me. A split second later, he shifts to dragon form and gently nudges me aside with his claws. I don't have to be told twice. I trot away a safe distance and then turn to watch him. Vaan studies the doors, then slides his big, knife-like claws into the gap and pries one entire door off. It groans and then goes flying with a shatter of glass in the parking lot.
"Well, that's one way to do it," I tell him happily. I rush forward and give his foreleg a hug, patting his scales. "Thank you so much!" I head inside without waiting to see if he's going to follow.
The interior of the tire place is oppressively warm and smells like, well, hot rubber and tires. There's a haze of dust in the air, but I don't care, because I'm heading toward the fountain like it's calling my name. The fountain was once beautiful and had water cascading from three tiers, but like everything else in this apocalypse that ran on electricity, it's dead. The bottom tier is easily the size of a kiddie swimming pool and it still has water in it. There are a few coins tossed at the bottom, but I don't care. It's been over a day since I drank anything, and I'm starting to feel nauseated at the lack. I dip a hand into it and taste-test.
Not the best flavored water, or the cleanest, but I've had worse. I gulp down a few handfuls and then rest my cheek against the lip of the thing, relieved. One problem down, many to go.
The dragon noses me.
"I'm good. Just resting. You should drink up." I pat his snout.
He doesn't seem all that interested in drinking, though. I rest for a few minutes, drink again, and then hunt through the place until I find a few empty bottles and discarded cups and fill them up. Then I decide it's time for a damn bath, because it's hot as hell and who knows how long it's going to be before I can find something this big again? It might be a risk to waste all my water bathing…but that's what the cups are for, and if that fails, I'm hoping Vaan can find us more water.
Either way, I'm getting a soak, even if it's the last thing I do. That's the nice thing about being a “captive” of the bad guy. I'm making some bold-ass decisions because I don't know if I'll have a future.
Since I don't have any shoes on, I slide my dirty feet into the water, sitting on the edge of the fountain. Oh wow. Nothing's ever felt so good. With a blissful sigh, I decide to say “fuck it” to the fact that I'm wearing jeans and a T-shirt and unbuckle my gun belt and gently set it on the floor. Then I scoot forward until my whole body lowers into the water. It's cool and wonderful despite my clothing, and I make a contented noise in my throat as I lie on my back, soaking in the first “bath” I've had since the apocalypse. I've washed, sure, but they've been furtive cold showers or a scrub with a wet washcloth. This is a soak, and it's wonderful.
"Gwen."
A hand reaches in the water and grabs ahold of me, hauling me up. Vaan scowls, holding a handful of my wet shirt as he studies me. It's clear he has no idea what I'm doing, because the look on his handsome, stern face is downright worried.
That's cute.
"It's a bath, silly. You can try it, too." I gently pry his claws out of my shirt before he can destroy this newest one. I splash the water, indicating he can get in and then make exaggerated motions about how much I like it. "Mmm, water, so fun."
He gives me a disgusted look, snorts, and walks away.
I kind of have to laugh at that. It seems my dragon is pissy with me because he thought I was dying. Poor thing. I continue to roll around in the water, enjoying the feel of it against my skin. After a few minutes, though, I start to feel selfish. It feels good, but I'm not getting clean, not without soap. Vaan clearly isn't in need of a drink and doesn't see the benefit in bathing, so I'm just wasting time and water. There are a million things we could be doing right now—or rather, I could be doing—that could benefit my situation or help me get back to Fort Shreveport. Swimming in an abandoned fountain won't feed me, won't get me shoes or supplies, and sure won't return me to my sister and friends.
With a guilty sigh, I pull myself out of the water, grab my gun belt again, and then head over to where Vaan stands by the doors, keeping watch. Without shoes, I'm dripping water everywhere and it makes walking treacherous, and I wobble and slide on the slick tile with every step. Just when I'm almost at Vaan's side, my footing goes out from under me.
The dragon-man grabs me easily, snagging me and hauling me against him before I fall down. I gasp as he wraps an arm around my waist to support me, because suddenly my hands are on his chest, his bare skin pressed to my body, and I'm incredibly aware of the heat of his body…and how little my soaking wet clothing protects me. My nipples prick against the T-shirt and are outlined magnificently against his chest. I might as well be naked.
The smoldering look he gives me tells me he's thinking the same thing.
I pull away from him, my cheeks almost as scalding as his skin. "Ah, maybe we should have a look around the area."
"Gwen," he growls, trying to hold me closer, but I wriggle out of his grasp anyhow and he lets me go.
My clothes slopping water everywhere, I tiptoe out into the parking lot. I need space away from him, because for a brief, shining moment, I didn't want to let go of him. I wanted to stay in his arms and see what would happen. I wanted to rub my breasts against his chest and see how it would feel, how he'd make me feel when he touched me. If all that intensity he lives and breathes was directed onto pleasing me in bed…
And I can't be thinking like that. Not in the situation I'm in. Still, it's damn easy to see why Amy always has a smile on her face. Dragon attention is…potent. I blow out a deep breath and scan my surroundings. All right. Where are we going from here?
So I don't have to look at him again, I put a hand to my brow and pretend to be real interested in my surroundings. Squinting at the buildings in the distance, I study them for a long time, even though I recognize the bright red sign of an old pharmacy. If it hasn't been raided, it's a damn goldmine and far better than a tire store, fountain or not. "We should head over there."
He grunts as if he understands me, and when I point, he nods and gestures. I guess that means that I get to take the lead for a while and he'll follow. Nice to hear. I take off across the parking lot, wringing out my clothes as I do. The gun belt slaps at my hip and pulls at my waist, threatening to fall down and take my sodden shorts with it. I hitch it up and pick my way over the weed-strewn pavement. It's summer-hot against my feet, but I ignore it as best I can, stepping on patches of grass for relief.
Vaan remains at my side, letting me lead the way. It takes a bit longer than I anticipated to get through, since there's a broken overpass to traverse, but we get across and then the pharmacy's in sight. The glass looks shattered but not broken, which is promising. If it hasn't been gutted, that might mean it holds some treasures within. As we get closer, the doors and windows look dusty and covered in grime, but faded posters still hang in place, advertising some long-ago sales. "Looks abandoned enough," I tell Vaan, and head for the doors.
There's no chain on the doors, but the broken length and smashed lock are tossed nearby onto cracked pavement, so at one point it was protected from intruders. Not a great sign, but that d
oesn't mean it's completely ransacked. I give one of the doors a tug and it doesn't budge, but after two more yanks, it slowly creaks open and I give Vaan an excited look. "Let's go inside."
He lifts his head, sniffing the air, and frowns, putting a hand on my arm.
"You smell something?" I tap my nose, trying to communicate what I'm asking.
Vaan thinks for a moment, then sighs heavily. The look on his face is frustrated, and he paces around the side of the building, frowning. I wait, but he only puts his hands on his hips and stares off across the empty parking lot.
Yeah, okay, well if he's taking this moment to contemplate eternity, I'm going to go inside and see if there's anything to salvage. My feet are starting to hurt and if I'm lucky, I'll at least find some flip-flops before he gets in his dragonish head that we need to hustle away again so time is of the essence.
I slip inside and take a look around.
The pharmacy shelves aren't more than five feet tall, so I can see over the rows and rows across the empty store. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling and thick dust filters the light. Everything here screams it hasn't been touched in forever, but there are footprints in the dust on the carpet which says someone was here before me, at least. When they were here, it's impossible to tell.
They didn't take everything, though.
The shelves here are half-full, a thick layer of dust covering their contents. I can see an endcap of tampons and another of hair products. Rows of brightly colored nail polish line the first shelf in the makeup aisle, and I sigh at the sight of them. I used to love to paint my nails, but all the products that are left are mostly goop at this point. Still…I pick up a bottle of cherry red, shake it, and then pocket it anyhow. Hope springs eternal and all that. I ignore the rest of the makeup, because rancid lipstick holds no appeal, and head farther in. Hair products, feminine hygiene, cotton swabs, hair dryers, decongestants, it's all here. Behind the pharmacy counter it looks like it's been ransacked and destroyed, probably not long after the Rift itself. Not just by junkies looking for one final fix but desperate mothers in need of inhalers or diabetes meds for their kids. It makes me sad to think about that, because I can't imagine that anyone who desperately needed any medicine like that is still alive.
I circle around to the edge of the store, not entirely sure what to grab in the face of all this wealth. There's toilet paper and paper towels and tissue paper and paper plates and I feel like I'm in heaven. I think for a moment and then immediately race toward the food aisles, but those are picked through. With a sigh, I glance around and then my gaze falls on the shampoos and hair products. I touch my wet, nasty hair and then head toward it. I could go back to that fountain and finish my bath. Heck, if there's a working sink in the bathroom here, I could wash my hair—really, really wash my hair. And lotion—oh god, there are bottles of lotion.
"I'm gonna need a damn cart," I tell myself happily, but I don't go get one. Not yet. Instead, I pick up a bottle of bath wash, flip open the cap, and breathe in the floral scent. It's still there, even after all these years, and it smells better than anything I could possibly imagine. Wow. I've forgotten all the smells from Before, when people actually got to bathe regularly with hot water and had all the clothing they could possibly want. I close my eyes and for a moment, I want so badly to be back in that time. I want to be in a world where cars ran instead of rusted, parents didn't walk away one day in search of food and never came back, and people were nice to each other. A time when dragons were fairy tales and only existed in movies as bad CGI.
I give the bottle another sniff, but the smell isn't as strong and floral on the second round, and it makes me sad. Sad, like all of this. Sad for the life I should have had instead of the one I'm forced to scrape together. I give the bottle one last sniff and hug it to my chest.
Something clinks the next shelf over.
I pause, looking around for Vaan. I don't see him anywhere, because his big shoulders and bronze head would be easily visible over the short shelving, but I'm alone in here. Rats, maybe? I curl my bare toes in distaste and creep over to the next aisle, trying not to make much noise so I don't scare away whatever critter it is. I want to see what it is I'm up against. It could easily be a possum…but it could also be a snake, or a skunk, and those have to be avoided in a very careful manner. I peer around the edge, scanning for animals.
There's no skunk, though. No critter or rodent or reptile.
There's a woman.
She's about my size and so incredibly filthy that it's impossible to make out her hair color or even her age. She could be twenty or forty. Her face is lined with dirt and mud and her hair is a caked, snarled mess. Her clothes are grimy, rotten rags that don't seem to have any particular shape. She presses herself against the shelf, nearly knocking over a stack of deodorant, and her eyes go wide at the sight of me.
Oddly enough, she's got really pretty eyes—a startling, brilliant hazel. And I think she's younger than I first imagined.
She also looks terrified.
"Hi," I tell her, making my smile as friendly and welcoming as possible. "I didn't realize anyone was here."
The sheer terror crosses her thin face again and she clutches at the shelf as if it'll save her somehow. Her mouth opens and works for a second, but no noise comes out. Then, finally, she manages to squeak out, "You…should run away. Go. Before he sees you."
I should run?
I squat down next to her, studying her expression. She's not afraid of me.
For me.
That could mean one of two things—she saw the dragon and worries he's going to eat me…or she's not here alone. Oddly enough, I'm not afraid. In the past, I'd have freaked out, but I don't feel like I'm in any danger…at all. Vaan is right outside. "Oh honey, no," I say gently. "If you mean—"
Something hard pokes me in the back of my head. I hear a click—the sound of a gun being cocked.
16
GWEN
The woman covers her face with her dirty hands and chokes back a cry.
"Stand up," a man says from behind me. He sounds older. Mean. If I had to guess, he probably has a big nasty beard, a big nasty gut, and a big nasty temper. I should be afraid. I really should. Funny thing is, all I keep thinking is how pissed Vaan is going to be when he sees this joker, and it doesn't make me afraid.
But I'm also not stupid, so I do stand up as slowly as I can. I don't turn around, but raise my hands slowly in the air.
He grabs at my gun belt and tries to jerk it off of me. "Gimme your piece, bitch. If you reach for it, I'll kill you."
I calmly undo the buckle without reaching for the gun, and before the belt can slide off my hips, he snags it. "You really don't want to do this, sir," I say, and my voice is nice and polite. Friendly, even. I give the woman a smile to let her know I'm not scared. That this is all under control. She looks beaten down. Defeated. I've seen girls like her before a dozen times—Fort Shreveport has its own share of refugees. Girls who have no choice but to obey the biggest, baddest asshole who's decided he's claimed her as his own. It's a situation that's all too common in the After, and one we've done our best to avoid in my fort.
Her eyes are huge and sad in her face. "I'm sorry," she whispers.
"Mara," the man growls. "Shut the fuck up and get over here."
"It's okay, Mara," I say calmly. "He's not going to hurt me."
"Well now, aren't you a confident little thing?" The gun goes between my shoulder blades and then he runs it down my spine like a creepy finger. "A nice little bit of brown sugar. Haven't had me any in a while. Been needing a taste of something sweet after spending my time with this one."
Mara lets out a choked sob.
"You are seriously gross," I tell him.
He just laughs as if I'm amusing him, but the gun jabs me a little harder. "Dragon flush you in? And you came crawling straight into my arms, didn't you?" He runs a hand down my back this time. "Where'd you come from, sweet thing?"
"Quit touching me." When he d
oesn't stop and instead grabs my ass, I bite back my irritation, because he's still got that gun. "You are asking for it, buddy."
He makes a mocking sound in his throat. "What are you gonna do, brown sugar?"
"Not me. The dragon." And I can't help the smugness in my voice at that.
"What's he gonna do?" The guy's clearly skeptical.
Suddenly, there's a roar outside so loud that the entire building shakes.
That, I think to myself. I tense, ready to drop to the floor at a moment's notice. I suspect that Vaan's about to charge in here and I don't want this guy to shoot me in the back in surprise.
The girl screams. The man's faint cry of "What the—" is drowned out a second later when the dragon crashes through the glass front of the building and shelves go flying.
So I drop. Of course, I drop a few seconds after the shelf next to me drops, and I realize mid-fall that I’m going to land on it—badly—and that it’s going to hurt like a bitch. I try to stop myself with my hands, but something twists and then hot, horrible pain flares up both of my arms. I bite back a scream and try to roll off to the side to take my weight off my hands, but there's debris everywhere and yelling and gold wings and utter chaos.
Through a haze of agony, I manage to roll onto my back just in time to see Vaan—dragon Vaan, not human Vaan—grab the man by the shoulders with his teeth. He tosses his head and in the next moment, the man's pulled apart like he's taffy and blood sprays everywhere.
The woman—Mara—screams in horror. I hear a crash—probably her fleeing—but all I can stare at is Vaan's gory muzzle, the unholy black flaring in his eyes. Despite the throbbing torture in my arms, I realize this is very, very bad and I have to do something about it.
He flings his head aside and the body of my attacker (well, half of it anyhow) goes flying across the store. The other half collapses all too close to my legs and I kick it aside in horror.
The dragon's attention suddenly zeroes in on me. The head lowers, and those eyes are so black that they feel like they're swallowing me whole. I'm not entirely sure he's in there anymore. It's like he's freaked out so hard that he's lost all sense of self. He growls low in his throat and I can see my terrified face in the dark reflection of his eyes.
