by Marlin Grail
I go ahead and eat some of the pre-packaged food that doesn't require cooking. “I'm sorry I couldn't make us the dinner outside like I would've wanted. Ashton, make sure you get full tonight.” Janice says out loud, already fitting herself onto her bed above Lissie.
“Don't worry, I will, and we'll try again tomorrow.” Ashton replies, dropping crumbs out of his mouth, landing beside Will.
“Man, chew your food better.” Will comments, annoyed by it.
“The spot you created on my face makes it harder than usual for me to move my mouth. You can move it for me if you want better results.”
Surprisingly, Will chuckles, playfully bumping shoulders with Ashton's.
Though I can't speak for Ashton or Will, I'm glad to see neither of them being antagonistic towards each other, considering what happened yesterday. Their silent nods and short, quiet, exchanges to one another is powerful enough to show they shall move on from what's happened between them.
I see Lissie, sucking in much air as she wakes up. She turns her body towards the center of the room, with her eyes opening up, and them starting to gaze straight at mine. “How are you doing?” she asks me with immediate concern in her voice.
Since my mouth is currently chewing food, I raise my hand up to motion that I'm alright. “Eat some food, Lissie.” Janice says, while re-situating her pillow to fully cushion her head.
Lissie prepares to leave her bed, but I go ahead and carry a handful of food straight to her. “Thank you.” She says, moving the hair caught in her face behind her ears.
Her hand that reaches out to pick out certain foods is dirtied, but warm, and prepossessing. I prepare to get up and return to the wall I rested on, but as I try to, I feel that warmness heat up the hand I offered the food with. “Gary, sit by my bed.” She suggests, with her eyes so large and entrancing.
“Have you guys become 'close'?” Will says, filling in the silent gaps of talking.
“Would it be offensive if we were?” Lissie asks, steelier in her voice.
“Not really. I'm not that surprised.”
The lack of surprise from him, or the others, tells me it's become more obvious than not about this closeness she and I share.
I go ahead and sit down, laying my back beside her bed's frame. Ashton and Will finish eating, wiping off crumbs from their shirts. “I remember when I used to fall asleep past midnight, and wake up in the afternoon.” Ashton says, taking off his jacket and shoes, preparing to lie in his bunk.
Will then lifts himself off of the wall and asks, “You wanna sleep in my bed, Gary?”
I take this moment to consider if I should or not.
He spent a night out on his own. He deserves a bed. I just need a flat surface.
Before I can answer, he begins talking again. “I'll take that as a no. Don't sleep on the floor tonight though. These mattresses are wide enough for 2, so just lie down in your girlfriend's bed.”
Lissie freezes the process of chewing a granola bar in her mouth. The nerves in my stomach jolt awake, because I know the last time we shared a chance of real intimacy—the kind we wouldn't give to anyone else here, it was but a pat on the shoulder, and, afterward, a night trying to get the images of fantasy out of my mind. With uncertainty to how she will respond, I turn my head with hesitance. “A-are you okay with that?” I ask.
“I am, if you are.” She says with shyness in her tone. For a split moment, her eyes look elsewhere, but her head remains fixated at me. “… I'd like that.” Her statement comes through, with a smile that slowly builds up once she says it.
She grants a signal for me to lie down on the bed, by arranging herself as far to the wall as she can. I then stretch my arms out onto the mattress to pick myself up. The left side of my body skims alongside the metal frame around the bunk.
Resting in place, for even a little bit of time, has caused my body to become extremely stiff and sore. Because of it, I have to skillfully flip myself over to be on my back. Lissie is resting on the left side of her body, with her left arm raised above, elbow bent, and hand that is cupping her head. “Comfortable?” she says.
“Yeah. Thank you for the generosity.” I answer back, quickly leaning myself up to untie my shoes.
It is a tight pinch for the both of us, likely because the bed really wasn't designed to fit 2 people onto it, but nonetheless does it break any uneasiness there might have been for each of us before I laid down.
“Gary, you've been in that shirt for several days. Take it off.” She says, more as a demand that invites intimacy. “Watch, I'm taking mine off.”
Movement from the bunk behind this one is heard. “Hey! I didn't know it would be okay to take clothes off! Why didn't you tell me?” Ashton says, teasing Lissie enough to make her exhale with playful annoyance.
“Because it's been hot, and it still is! You can keep your clothes on or off, but for Gary it's an order.”
While she was talking, she slipped off her shirt, which I only heard the sound of, but I didn't look at her.
I don't want to seem rapacious, or as though it is an opportunity of romantic stimulation.
“Gary, look at me.”
I turn my head, and though my eyes are stuck on hers, my peripheral vision sees the white, faded, bra she has on, and the very skin that her shirt has hidden from others all of this time. “Hey, I know it must be exciting, but don't do anything tonight! I'm turning off the lights!” Will says, humorously.
The glimpse I had of her disappears, along with our flashlights.
I don't need to see her to know she is still looking at me.
I then feel her fingers slowly grab my shirt, and she helps to pull it off. We don't say anything else for the whole moment, and the next gesture I feel from her is her elegant hand hover on my bare chest. It gently presses to make me lay down completely. She lets it stretch, adventurously moving across my skin until it reaches my right shoulder, and, without preparing for it, I feel her body reel into mine, and her head rest on the top of my chest. One of her legs comes over mine, bending entirely. Her movements aren't free from being nervous, but she is brave to be doing them.
Time for me to start being brave too.
I carefully raise my right arm above, and land it on top of her back. “Sorry if my hand is a little dirty.” I softly say into her ear closest to me.
She lets out a giggle that is muffled by her closed mouth, which immediately evaporates any tenseness we still had. Several seconds pass before whispered chatting begins. “Have you ever slept beside someone?” she says, joking my stiff posture I have.
“Only a few times.”
“Really? I would've thought someone who was a famous musician would've had many adoring fans to pick and choose from.”
“That wasn't my way of things. I tried, maybe a couple of times, to have had 'sexual relations' with people I barely knew anything about, but it wasn't my flow. I needed to know someone first.”
Her head lifts up a bit, before she says, “We're not having 'sexual relations', but we're sharing a phase that comes from it. You don't know a lot about me, and here we are.”
“I know. I've been learning much about things this last week.”
Silence rings for a few seconds, but, ultimately, she rests her head back to where it was. “Me too, Gary.”
Now, we remain in our minds, sharing this bed, letting ourselves recover from all the peril today brought us. I get the flash of memory from earlier, remembering mine and Lissie's shadows—deformed, but… special- looking, and personable to my eyes.
Did she see what I saw? If she did, then did she see it the same way too?
I decide to not think any deeper than that, making myself just accept what is concrete now. Ourselves snuggled, willing to sleep in a bed that has no real extra space between and beyond us—I should not think hard about how we feel about it. If this is the bed we'll sleep in, night after night in this position, then I won't concern myself any further in regards to our new frontier… that is our new rel
ationship.
Chapter XXVII
“The barn door is open! Will, you and I head inside!” I say out loud, with a pistol held in both hands and head tilting fast towards the interior of this place. Lissie, and Ashton are keeping watch for us, and also as assist in case we need them.
Janice has duty of driving the truck—that is fortunately still with us since we brought it back 2 days ago. The barn has interstices of sunlight beaming inside, from the wood structure splitting apart here and there, along with some dirty-stained windows, but even so, both of us need to equip our flashlights to fully see what is in front.
Slowly searching the place fills the tension tank of mine again, for these rolls of hay we spot on the ground seems unnatural, considering their purpose was never truly fulfilled. On both the left and right side, there are walkways raised a step higher than the flooring we're on now. The first level seems empty, yet with beams that are fastened everywhere, it disorients the actual size of this place.
Gathering what I recall outside, the structure has a symmetrical shape. It has an obtuse-angled roof that mirrors the same degree on each end, connecting 2 unique sections of areas that's framing remind me of isosceles triangles if they were turned on their sides, and the roofing makes it all meet to a pointed peak directly to the middle of the place.
I don't expect we'll find anyone, since there's no sign of this barn being none other than just abandoned, but it's better safe than sorry.
Every few seconds, I look up above us, making sure the second level doesn't have suspicious sounds we might accidentally ignore.
Nothing.
No trace of undead is etched in the place, or anything that indicates the outside has felt this wood for a while—maybe for years before this world changed. The second level has no unexpected turns. “No witch up here.” Will comically says, while walking up to touch the wall that’s opposite side greeted us.
“Then our mission should be done. Let's regroup.” I say, with an urge to not stay much longer.
“What's up, Gary? Afraid there's ghosts?”
“No, but I know hazes can come out of nowhere, and this barn, being out in the open in plain sight, is endangering for us. I want to make sure the others are all right.”
“Yeah. Sure, this place is bigger than ours, but it's not so hidden. I would feel for the ones who might get it. Plus, it looks more historic and likely will collapse.”
We give each other stares of agreement, and speed-walk back to everyone. “Are we done here?” Ashton says.
“Yes. Go inside the car. I just need to notify what we've found for our supervisor.” I tell everyone, giving a thumbs up as I pull out my radio.
“We'll listen in, as usual.” He says back with no stutter.
Now with them packing in the truck, I begin communication, looking at the scenic view of the mountains behind the barn while waiting for his response.
These skies have no black smoke or dirty mists today, but every time they're not there, most of me waits to see when the blue pureness will get taken away.
Instead of the deep voice I was expecting, “Great work, Gary! I'm coming for it!”, a recognizable voice bombastically says back, which is the voice that I found elegant, charming, but disintegrating what me and my group knew was possible.
“C.?” I ask.
“Just hold tight!”
“C., I haven't even shared the directions on how to get here. How will you know where we are?”
“I've got eyes man, so just stay put.”
I better assume he knows what he's doing and not overstep boundaries he would think I'm overstepping.
“Understood. We'll wait.”
“Great! Listen. Your supervisor should have given you a car, so make sure you're in the car, and make sure the windows are rolled up.”
“O-okay?” I say, misunderstanding his instructions, but still willing to accept them.
No more conversation continues after his last statement, so I make my way to the car—looking at every direction the whole time to ensure nothing 'unsuspected' appears. I knock on the driver window. “Yes, Gary?” Janice says.
“Listen. I think it would be best if you let me take the wheel.”
Without further questions, she unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out of the truck, moving over to the front passenger seat. I close my door, rolling the window back up, and check that every window able to move is sealed. “Was that who I think it was?” Will asks me.
“Yes. Rather than hearing from our supervisor, it was C., and he's on his way over here. I'm sure you heard him telling us to wait in the car with no windows down.”
I only hear Will fall back in his seat, likely from agitation, but not from me.
“How long should it take?” Ashton says.
“I don't know,” I respond, turning myself to fairly look at everyone, “but he made it sound as though he won't get lost. If this area is barely charted by his 'organization', then how would he know where this place is?”
It is a question that stumps us, but we all mutually recognize if the head of something this serious is coming to visit, then it would be purely disrespectful to not obey his direct requests. Sitting in our seats gives us a break to unwind, but I advise everyone, “Stay aware of your surroundings, especially when you're in an area foreign to you.”
Suddenly, Lissie chimes to me, “How's the soreness today?”
“It's okay.”
“Everything's always okay with you, isn't it?” she says, tittering to my answer.
I chuckle myself. “I just never have the bravery to say something with defined malice.”
Her hand then curls in with mine—both of ours sharing the arm rest. “That's just what makes you brave.”
Janice smiles to this exchange.
Minutes flee, because we anticipate the moment we see that man make his way towards us. Will then throws out, erasing the quietness once more, “On a next mission, if we go to a store that sells music, then I'm getting some.”
“No fishing music, please.” Ashton says in response, with a teasing grin.
“People from the South don't just listen to fishing music. Besides, we already had real banjos and crickets for fishing before my family got our first cassette player.”
It makes us all laugh, including Will himself.
However, the laughing cuts short, when all 3 walkie-talkies carry C.'s voice. “I'm practically here. My pets have pretty much caught sight of you… or someone else.” He says, chuckling afterward.
Will snatches his radio up. “What? You have, like, bloodhounds?”
“No, Not-Gary. You'll see them. They seem like they already see you.”
What mystery is he purposefully hiding? He clearly wants to have it a surprise.
C. stays active on his radio, for we can hear him breathing heavily. “You know, this is a national park.” He throws out, quirkier than Will's last statement, but being less comforting to the situation.
Suddenly, my eyes wander to the left side of us, and I notice a sight I wouldn't have expected. “Get out of the car! Move! Move! Move!” a man roars at my window. His gun is pointed at me, along with another man behind him pointing their gun at him. With the doors locked, they cannot simply open them—and that is what they want most. They seem extremely desperate to get mine and Will's doors open, and their panic-stricken behaviors are not intimidating—regardless of their guns.
They would've shot through the glass if that's what they wanted.
I quickly set the car to drive, and prepare to take off, but, immediately, the radios pick up C.'s voice. “I see you!”
Just then, an avalanche of hazes swarms the space of our truck, at which these 2 men are smacked to the windows, as though high winds have just pushed them unwillingly.
They're faces are mushed to the glass, inescapably losing themselves, and blaring in response to it.
I've seen what hazes can do, but I've never seen what actually happens.
My heart paces erratical
ly, as I have trouble taking in what I'm seeing, but not literally.
Blackness surrounds us all, but we can still see these people fully. It's as if these hazes can control every bit of itself and warp around the frame of our truck—just for enough visibility to be available.
The man yells in agony, with his eyes staining with blood particles. The voice grows ever more faint after seconds of the throat losing air. The pigment of his skin is being sucked dry, losing real color, and fades to the gray that normally appears on an undead. Their open mouth drops onto the window—having their teeth make a clink sound as they hit the surface.
Now, they have that look as though they were replaced with a new pair of eyes—one that was fascinated by the world before them, and predetermined to find food. The newborn undead growl at us—no longer those people in pain. Two blades then penetrate the back of their heads, making their noises cease.
“Hi there, Gary!” C. says, after the bodies fall to the ground.
Here he is, but with the presence of hazes engulfing him, but he's not suffering or transforming. He dwells within them, though no damage is done.
“How can this be?” I say out loud from disbelief.
“Hey! Roll down your windows… just kidding!” he says, now walking over and placing his hands on the front hood of the truck.
I press my radio onto the corner of my forehead, completely shocked, not knowing whether to feel impressed or afraid. “You're immune?!” Ashton speaks through his transmitter.
“How else might one see it?” C. asks back, before clapping his hands together. “Now, I show you this, and it's not out of responsibility on me, because not everyone that works for me knows about this… advantage I have. I show you this because I place a responsibility on you all to not share this with anyone you come into contact with.”
Another power play on his end.
“I-it's remarkable you even are still yourself in all of this.” I tell him, observing the toxic atmosphere that's swallowed are truck, but meshing delicately around it.
