Dawning (The Risen Series Book 1)

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Dawning (The Risen Series Book 1) Page 19

by Marie F. Crow


  What he may have said, or Aimes might have tried to do to soothe the hurt in his brown eyes, we were saved from when Simon joined our table.

  “Les, why don’t you see if Paula needs help in the kitchen?” Simon asks the woman who is making a shawl of herself across Lawless’ shoulders.

  He may have phrased it as a question, but it was anything but one. She lets her fingers slide slowly up Lawless’ chest, drawing out the “goodbye” just to place another dare to me before leaving. “You really need to start keeping your knife around more, Hells. You just never know when you may need to stab some- thing,” Aimes says and her words flow in time with Leslie passing behind her. “Still wearing your piece, Chappy?”

  “No. I figured it would be safer not to with Hells around,” Chapel answers in what he meant to be a teasing jest over yesterday’s theft.

  “When a man can’t keep up with his own piece, then yeah, it’s safer if he doesn’t wear one,” Lawless replies to that jest first, proving his anger from my actions is still evident.

  Simon’s laughter turns all of our heads to him. “Wait,” he says, “let me see if I have this correct. You stole this man’s gun. You stepped out, on your own, without your group’s agreement; to save a bunch of people you have never met before; who had no clue you were there; risking your own life against a bunch of those things. Should I go warn Les now or later about who she is picking a fight with?”

  “Later,” Aimes says. “You forgot the best part though. Going all chop-suey on the Risen with the blade that yours truly slipped her.” She makes a grand motion of pointing to herself as declaring it.

  “Risen, huh?” Dolph’s southern drawl joins the conversation, questioning Aimes’ title for the new brand of danger that stalks us all now. His rifle is gone, but the bulge of his shirt hints at other weapons.

  “That’s what Chappy has dubbed them. It kinda stuck for us,” she says, shrugging. “What have you been calling them?”

  “We haven’t.” His answer leaves no room for further conversation on the topic.

  Aimes just widens her eyes at me. “Well, okay,” she mouths in my direction, from the shock of his response.

  “When you guys are ready, I’ll take you for a tour of the place,” Simon offers. He is still wearing his smirk. He is finding many things amusing this morning.

  “Ready!” Aimes and I shout at the same time in our typical fashion. We are both looking for any freedom from this stalemate of our making.

  Simon looks to J.D. for consent. He is trying to rebuild the bridge so badly damaged with yesterday’s posturing from both sides. Dolph watches it all, his eyes swaying from his leader to ours with interest. He is taking notes of every shift of the conversation. It’s obvious his trust is not something he is ready to hand over just yet. Like a virgin at prom, he will make us work for it.

  J.D. holds Simon’s gaze, making him wait for his answer before nodding his consent. J.D. has been silent for most of the morning, his eyes taking watch of every motion his children have made. I wonder what information he has stored from watching us. What weapon is he assembling in his mind for our next round and what ammunition have I loaded for him to use in his shiny new weapon?

  Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about it right now. I know he is waiting, just as I am, for our games to begin. The only difference being he is anticipating it. I am preparing for it. He is plotting it. I am planning for it. Like a bride on her wedding night,

  I am terrified by what I know is about to come, and yet knowing it will soon be upon me, it is thrilling.

  “Are you showing us or escorting us?” J.D. stares at Dolph, who is taking a position behind our group with deliberate steps. “I guess that all depends on you now, don’t it?” Dolph’s south-

  ern drawl holds no subterfuge at the meaning of his question.

  Dolph is waiting for one wrong move to be made. He is waiting for us to give him one reason to prove to Simon how unsafe we are. He does not stare down J.D. with hidden threats. He does not mix any verbiage in a vocal debate. Dolph has plainly laid his hand on the table. The only dare before us is will J.D. call it, or fold.

  Chapter 26

  Our tour starts on the first floor, as logic would entail. The bottom floor holds what one would assume to find in any high school. The halls are divided by the front office space, a gym with coordinating boys’ and girls’ locker rooms, a large library and the cafeteria we have just left is situated towards the back. It provides a nice view of the courtyard while eating.

  At this hour with people starting to go about their day, most of the rooms are filling with life.

  The second floor contains various sized classrooms. Now they are being used as storage for items needed to run such a large compound. A few rooms have been set aside and these have been designated to store the many weapons they have collected behind locked doors to keep prying eyes and itching hands away.

  There is no one on the second floor other than us. It is eerily quiet compared to the noise we have left behind once the heavy doors were closed. The men talk shop about various aspects of keeping the place running. They talk about the small details such as security and precautions taken, the number of people located within and the many roles they play. The same names are mentioned time and again and the same names are omitted. J.D.’s eyes tell me he is taking note of it all.

  Dolph and Richard seem to be the main security and providers. Shelia is the housemother, making sure everything runs smoothly as far as comfort and demands are made. A woman named Paula is the cook and nurse for the place. It sounds as if Simon just tries his best to keep everything going. I notice how neither Ross nor Leslie is mentioned in the list of important details. I guess great teeth and being easy is not real helpful for vital necessities.

  “How do you still have electricity?” Marxx is the first to test Simon’s openness with his question.

  “The school has backup generators. We keep them fueled and they keep most things up and running. The vending machines, once their coolant was disconnected, take less energy to run than a hallway full of lights. Cold showers work as well as hot despite what the women say. Candles are for more than just ambiance. We have had to learn to be less dependent on some things though. Mostly, it’s just about learning how to rethink our lives. Do stuff when the sun is up. Sleep when it isn’t. We haven’t had many issues,” Simon says, shrugging with the simplicity of it.

  “A lot of mouths to feed,” Rhett states, fishing for more information.

  “Hasn’t been too horrible either. Dolph and Richard do a lot of the hunting. There is a good-sized garden to one side of the building we were using before the weather turned. The rest Paula has learned to be very creative with what we can find. Serving set meals, a day has helped a lot.” Simon makes it all sound so easy while Dolph offers nothing to help pass the tour. He follows behind us like one of the many shadows we cast.

  We come to another set of looming, locked doors. Plaques are lined up announcing different names as winning different recognitions for the once heavily used school. I wonder where all those children are now?

  “What’s in there?” Aimes is growing bored with the male chatter around us and looks to find anything to amuse her.

  “Music room.” Dolph steps past her, rattling the keys to unlock it.

  “You keep the music room locked? Simon sings that badly?” She smiles, finally finding her a source of fun.

  “More rooms locked, the less we have to keep track of people.

  But yeah,” Dolph answers her, “he sings that badly.”

  It might be the first time I have heard more than two words from him, much less an attempt at humor.

  “Sorry dude, no “Love Shack” solos for you.” Aimes turns to Simon with false sad eyes. “And here I was so counting on you for the tin roof part.”

  Simon smiles at being the subject of her humor as Dolph pushes open the large doors. The room and its hidden delights are show- cased by the sunlight streaming t
hrough the windows. Many chairs sit in a half circle facing a white board. It still holds the next selection to be rehearsed. Music stands are tilted, waiting for their sheet music. The whole room seems frozen in time.

  Like kids again, we run around beating out tempos on drums and playing childhood tunes from forced memories on the many instruments lying around. Horrible renditions of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” and “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” in various pitches fill the room. The only one among us with any real musical talent is Lawless and he is not among the ones mercilessly destroying classic songs.

  He leans against the wall with J.D., Simon and Dolph as they watch us reliving our childhood memories. He still holds himself in his separation from us with an unspoken duty to J.D. Where, as before, he would have been enjoying these moments with us, now he only watches with his blank face and cold demeanor.

  Chapel is the one who finds the old red acoustic guitar hidden behind the many stacks of plastic chairs, but it is Aimes who smiles with the discovery. She smiles at me and I know where her logic is taking us. My stomach becomes a pit of dread. It seems to be bottomless as I fall into it.

  “Hey, Lawly, come see if it is still in tune,” she calls across the room to him.

  Only his lips move in a short frown before he recollects his blank face.

  Lawless waits, still leaning against the wall with all of us watching for his answer. Slowly he peels himself off the wall as if gravity holds him hostage. Each step is deliberate as he makes his way over, winding around the rows of chairs and stands between us. We make brief eye contact when he passes me. He is testing the water between us. He also knows where this path Aimes has placed us on is heading. He is just as joy-filled with it as I am.

  Many nights the three of us have spent under the stars with Lawless strumming songs around warmth-giving fires. Some songs he and I would sing duets on, with our voices perfectly matched. Sometimes he would sing to us, his voice holding rich emotion with the words he sang. Occasionally, I would even be brave enough to sing a solo, earning a smile from him when our eyes would catch as he watched me. I know this is Aimes’ attempt to reunite our trio with our past memories. She also saw the pain in his eyes this morning with her words. This is her peace offering. Like a penny a child throws into a fountain, this is her hopeful wish.

  “It’s not too horrible.” Lawless is adjusting the many pegs as his fingers slide along the strings, making them sing.

  He is strumming several short tunes from those past nights. It lets Aimes and I know he understands what she is doing and what she is wanting from him. He may be brave enough to send this private smoke signal to us, but his eyes never leave the guitar while he is doing it.

  “What was that song you used to sing for us, Hells? The one in that different language?” J.D. calls to us. He is not blind to the small healing we are attempting.

  “Ave Maria,” Lawless answers for me. He takes some of the heat J.D. sent for me.

  “Right, “Ave Maria.” Isn’t that one of those religious songs, Chap?” J.D. is drawing all of his targets into one bucket. When he finds a barrel, I may start to panic.

  “Yeah,” Chapel gives him one solid word, understanding the game has started.

  “Well, what ya’ waiting on, Law? Play for her so she can pray for all us sinners,” J.D. says.

  He has put his game into play, and I have to give it to the man for his cunning mind. If Lawless plays the song, he is siding with mine in our prayers for them. If he does not play, he may rejoin J.D.’s group of sinners. The word play is so simple if one were not familiar with J.D, one would miss the threat. We are very familiar with him and we have missed nothing. Now we all wait for the next move to be made. A move no one can help Lawless make.

  Lawless stands still while he pretends to be tuning the guitar in his hands as his mind races to pick a choice or find a way to appease us both. Rhett and Marxx are struggling to go blank with the realization of what line has been drawn. Each of them is rushing through their own ideas of how to help their friend with this new battle. Their conflict is plain upon their faces but once again, it is Chapel who steps into the fire.

  “I know this one,” Chapel offers, holding his hand out for Lawless to hand him the guitar.

  Chapel is providing him a way out. A chance for Lawless to let another man bear the burden of J.D.’s anger rather than take sides. The two men stare at each other for a moment before Lawless hands the instrument over. Disappointment covers Chapel’s face with the other man’s choice and Lawless has a hard time meeting those bitter eyes.

  “You ready?” Chapel asks me, stepping around Lawless with a rude dismissal of him.

  Chapel places himself between J.D.’s gaze and myself, letting not only Lawless, but also all of them know he is the one keeping me safe. I nod, hoping my voice holds as I stare at the back of the man in whose hands, I used to place my heart as I wait for the chords to play. The melody floats in the air with the beauty only an acoustic guitar can hold. With the same ease of memory as a sinner praying the Lord’s Prayer on Sunday, the lyrics begin to pour from my mouth. I find they have the same amount of sincerity, but sometimes, God tosses us a lifeline.

  The sound of running feet puts every man on high alert. The drama was thick between our group, yet when danger is rushing towards us, all lines are blurred as our family comes together again. Chapel places the instrument on the chair beside him while moving to huddle Aimes and I behind him. Rhett and Lawless take a stance on either side of J.D. and Marxx has placed himself in the extreme left side, slightly behind us all. Whatever is heading toward us, our men have the room completely covered.

  Dolph has watched their silent formation and something about his smirk is not amusing. He follows Simon with a backwards walk to check the hallway as the feet reach us. Without turning his back to the stone-faced room, he glances to see who has caused such a shift of mood. J.D. smiles while he makes a mental note of Dolph’s reaction to them. He casts a wink to Rhett who returns his broad grin.

  “You have to come quickly,” a woman says between panting breaths. “They are outside the fence.”

  “They who?” Simon asks her.

  The look of fear on the woman’s face stirs our men to action. They are already checking clips and unfastening the leather bindings of their blades. They don’t need her answer. We haven’t had the luck of being hidden behind stone walls since this all started. “The things, they are outside the fence,” she says, and finally

  Simon’s mind clicks the pieces together.

  “Why don’t you just let me and mine handle this,” J.D. offers with his good ol’ boy charm. His sneer doesn’t match his tone. “We wouldn’t want any of your pretty folks getting hurt now, would we?”

  “He just called you ugly,” Aimes mockingly whispers to Chapel. Chapel casts her a very parental reprimand of a look over his shoulder. His grin almost kills the depth of it though. Almost. Marxx’ look makes up for what Chapel’s lacks and Aimes pre-tends her nails are suddenly very interesting. “We can handle it,” Dolph says.

  “Like how you handled almost letting Simon die yesterday?” Lawless asks.

  “I wasn’t there.” Dolph steps into the space of Lawless, putting the two of them too close for Rhett’s comfort.

  Lawless never flinches. He takes the final step left between he and Dolph, accepting the man’s threat and dare. “Was that going to be your excuse for Shelia or just to yourself?”

  I can hear the tension between the two of them. It’s like static on phone lines in the summer heat. Their tension bounces to every male in the room. If either Dolph or Lawless so much as twitch, the room will erupt.

  “So, the plan is to what, fight each other and let Risen just stroll on in?” Aimes asks, still peering at her nails from behind Chapel’s back. “Let’s just send Hells out. She does a better job than any of you anyway.”

  “Chapel isn’t wearing his gun,” I meekly say with so many male eyes on me with Aimes’ comment.

/>   Simon pulls Dolph from Lawless. Stepping in between the two males he says, “Pinky is right. We don’t have time for whatever this is. We will go upstairs, settle everyone down, get Richard and then go see what is going on outside.”

  J.D. pushes his way past Simon and the still simmering Dolph. His face is contorted with disgust with the two men. As the men follow him out, Aimes and I are swept along with their exit. Marxx won’t let us stay behind. He wedges himself behind Chapel and forces us to walk with them.

  When Aimes tries to lock her feet, Marxx whispers into the space between her and I, “I will pick you up and carry you out of here like the spoiled child you are imitating.”

  Aimes doesn’t call his bluff. His bone-deep voice inspires no bravery in her normally sharp tongue.

  “Where the hell are you going?” Dolph shouts with our mass exit.

  “To do what you’re too scared to do,” J.D. calls back before Lawless can open his mouth. “You go on upstairs and put some pretty panties on. We will have this shit all cleaned up before you can find your matching bra.”

  Rhett spins to walk backwards do he can see the damage his words will cause. He says, “Unless that is what Richard is really for, Dolph. Does Richie tell you how pretty you are when you are scared?”

  Lawless laughs a little too loudly, adding the extra twist of the verbal knife. Marxx doesn’t join in with their exchange. He is too busy keeping his hand on the shoulder of Aimes. Every time her jaw moves, he clamps his hand tighter to keep her silent. What Marxx isn’t prepared for is Chapel’s reaction to what he is doing. Chapel reaches around her, sliding his arm between her and Marxx and pulls her to the space in front of him. Locking his arms around her, Chapel never looks at Marxx and Marxx doesn’t question the man. It leaves me now between the two of them and their private male battle. Too much testosterone can make a girl’s head spin. If I only had pea soup to fully complete how I feel. “Do we have an actual plan?” I ask, once we are all in the stairwell.

 

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