“No, silly. Lloyd found out at what route they took. We set up at one of the crossings, waiting. When they slowed, Lloyd set fire to one of the empty houses nearby and yelled for help.” Andy laughed. “Dumb asses. I can't believe they fell for it.”
“And you got away with it?”
“Yup. It was epic.” Andy swooped in for a kiss. “Got something for you. You and Lexi.”
He unpacked his rucksack, revealing candles, soap, tuna, macaroni, tomato sauce and...
I sucked in a breath. “You didn't.”
“Yup. Can't believe those fuckers get to eat so well while the rest of us suffer. You never see these as part of the weekly rations.”
Two apples, shiny and green. An orange, plump and juicy. Bananas, not my favorite but the equivalent of white gold.
“Holy crap,” I breathed.
“That's not all.” He pulled out packets of sugar, coffee, powdered milk, and a tin of rusks.
“What about the kids at the church?” I asked. “And the other guys?”
“Don't worry. We pulled enough this time for all of us to take a share and still give to the kids. Besides, Lloyd never takes anything. His family eats pretty well, being part of the army and all.”
“Oh. I should have guessed that.” My mind circled around the enigma that was Lloyd. The eldest son of a man raised during the Apartheid era. One who fought against the old regime and then enjoyed a position of power and privilege under the new government. A man who now oppressed others, even going so far as to abandon his own brother's child, his blood. What was it like to have a father like that? Was that why Lloyd rebelled? The snarky comments and brusque attitude. A product of his upbringing?
What's his mother like? I'd heard she was British, well-educated and a life-long advocate of human rights. How did she feel about the current state of affairs?
Andy packed everything away in the kitchen cupboards then turned to me. His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me close. His actions erased all thoughts from my head, and my brain turned to mush. Quivering, shivering mush.
“You look gorgeous,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
Goosebumps raced across my skin, raised by a current of electric sensation. His mouth pressed against mine, tongue brushing across my lips, seeking admission. I granted it and his arms tightened, sweeping me up into a heady kiss. My feet left the ground, my body was consumed by fire. With a groan, he ended the kiss and lowered me to the ground, pushing his face into the crook of my neck.
“What's wrong?”
He didn't reply, pressing a small foil-covered package into my hand instead.
A condom.
“Where did you get this?”
“The supply truck. It had boxes of the stuff.” He looked me in the eyes for a moment then threaded his fingers through my hair. His voice became a soft whisper in my ear. “Your choice.”
I stared at the packet in my hand, so small and innocent, yet loaded with potential problems and complications. Was I ready for this? Did I want to take that step with Andy? I'd only ever done it with one guy.
Brian.
His name dropped into the whirlpool of emotions swirling inside me bringing about a dull ache of longing. Old longing. At the same time, Andy was here. Now. Touching me, holding me, kissing me. Could I say no to that? Should I?
My eyes met Andy's and I saw. I saw the fear of rejection he held within, buttressed by the strong outer exterior and confident manner. A moment of vulnerability as he laid himself bare, placing his heart in my hands.
My fingers closed around the condom.
Consequences be damned.
***
The next morning I woke up in my own bed, remembered what had happened the previous night and smiled. A slow deep smile that spoke of satisfaction and completion. I stretched out my limbs, relishing the languid feel of my muscles. Flashbacks of skin touching heated skin and lips leaving a trail of...
A loud bang shook me from my dirty thoughts and I shrieked, scrambling upright while clutching the duvet. Andy's head appeared around the corner and he banged his fist on the door again. “Rise and shine.”
“What?”
“Time to get that butt out of bed.”
I groaned. “Not now, Andy. Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He grinned at me. “Lift that ass, babe.”
A blush warmed my cheeks. Babe?
“Come on now. We don't have all day.”
“But it's six in the morning,” I protested.
“Exactly. Perfect time for exercise.” He lowered his voice, growling at me. “You don't want to be left behind again, do you?”
I blinked. “No.”
“Then move it. Outside in five.”
“Ugh.”
***
The next two weeks passed in a haze of bliss and agony. Agony because Andy turned into a drill sergeant whenever he trained me, leaving me with sore muscles and aching joints. Bliss because of the nights we spent together in each other's arms, whispering, laughing, touching. We went to great lengths to hide our nightly escapades from everyone, especially Lexi and Andy's mom but everyone knew we were a couple.
I was falling for Andy. My heart fluttered whenever our eyes met, and my stomach leaped when he brushed past me. There were times, though, single moments of lucidity when I'd look at myself in the mirror and ask, “What the hell are you doing?”
The fact was, I was more in love with the idea of being in love than Andy himself. I craved intimacy, contact, acceptance, and he provided that. He filled a need, a hole in my being. What he got out of it, I couldn't say. Did he care for me? Was he in love with me?
But if there was one thing I was good at, it was lying to myself. I'd brush aside the niggling doubts the moment they occurred.
During those two weeks, Andy and the boys were busy, looting the smaller outlying stores and even robbing the soldiers guarding the barricades. Each time, I'd sit at home, waiting.
Without fully acknowledging it, I was growing worried. Andy boasted of their adventures in a manner bordering on arrogance. Their tactics were simple, relying largely on luck and often they escaped by the skin of their teeth. With each hit, I imagined the army becoming more and more aware of them. And with awareness, comes action.
Andy laughed off my concerns. They had Lloyd, he said. Lloyd would know if something was up. Lloyd knew everything, it seemed.
I wasn't so sure but consoled myself with the thought that when I went out with them, I'd insist on more caution and better planning. Despite my misgivings, I still longed for the freedom and excitement the raids provided.
The following week, the Lost Boys met again. Lloyd brought the news that another supply train was coming through and they spent the evening planning the hit. After the previous big score, they were eager for another. This time, I insisted on joining them. I was tired of sitting at home and though I had far to go, I was a lot fitter than three weeks before.
That was how I found myself dressed in black, hunkered down behind a bush, waiting for the supply trucks to show. The chirping of crickets rang in our ears, sweaty palms cooled by an icy breeze. The blood in my veins fizzed like gas cool drink in a shaken bottle. I was ready.
The rumbling of vehicles disturbed the quiet night a few minutes later, and Andy nodded at each of us. Subtle vibrations traveled through my soles, raising the hair on the nape of my neck. As the hulking shapes neared the crossing they slowed, preparing for the sharp right-hand turn that waited.
The next moment, blood-curdling screams filled the night. I flinched, shocked and surprised at the sounds issuing from Matthew's throat. If I hadn't known better, I would have thought it was a woman. One who was being murdered in a most horrifying fashion.
The boys had decided it would be too risky to use fire again and had settled for a different tactic. One in which Matt's high-pitched voice came in handy.
The front truck braked, rolling to a stop. Red light bathed the street. Behind it, the rest followed suit. Matt's
screams continued to rip through the night. Cries rose from the convoy and doors opened as soldiers exited their vehicles.
One, in particular, barked out orders to the rest and a small group broke off, jogging in the direction of the screams to investigate. The rest stayed put much to Andy's dismay, even circling the trucks with their rifles held at the ready.
“Why aren't they going?” he asked in a hushed whisper.
As I watched the scene unfold, a cold shiver worked its way up my spine. I knew why. The army had caught on to the Lost Boys' escapades. These weren't just drivers, tired from the long road and gullible enough to run after any distraction.
No.
These were real soldiers.
And they were on to us.
I tugged on Andy's arm and hissed. “Let's go.”
“No. Just wait a bit. Maybe...”
Movement in the corner of my eye caught my attention. Several of the soldiers toward the rear of the convoy were circling around our position. We were being closed in.
“Andy, look.” I nodded at the soldiers. “They know we're here.”
“Shit. We need to move,” he said, head whipping about. He gestured to Lloyd and Allen, each of their gazes widening as the precariousness of our position sunk in.
We were in a boatload of shit.
On our hands and knees, we crawled as fast as we could away from the crossing. We'd chosen a spot that had a lot of cover and managed to stay out of sight until we reached the first house. That's where the vegetation dried up.
“Now what?” I asked Andy.
The three boys looked at each other, mouths working. Behind them, the soldiers sweeping the bushes were coming closer, their rifles glinting in the moonlight. They'd find us soon enough.
“We need to get out of here,” I whispered. My heart was pounding but I had yet to feel any fear. Instead, I was thinking more clearly than ever before in my life.
“If we run, they'll see us,” Allen replied.
“How did they know?” Andy asked.
I gripped him by the arm. “That doesn't matter now. Focus.”
He looked at me and shook his head.
Gritting my teeth in frustration, I asked, “Which of you is the fastest?”
Lloyd raised a hand. “That would be me.”
“Right. You take off in that direction,” I pointed to a smaller side street which boasted a long row of trees.
Lloyd stared at me, realizing what I was asking. He gave a slow nod. “Fine.”
“Don't run in a straight line,” I said. “Use the trees. It's a short road. You'll be out of sight quick enough.”
If he makes it, I added to myself.
Lloyd cracked his neck and tensed his muscles, ready to run. I gripped the other two by their arms. “When Lloyd goes, wait two seconds, then follow me.”
Before I could utter another word, Lloyd was off. Shouts rose into the air, like the baying of the hounds when they caught the fresh scent of blood. Feet pounded past us, shaking the bushes we hid in.
For a fleeting moment, I watched Lloyd run, arms and legs pumping. The first shot cracked, the bullet shattering bark off a tree. He zig-zagged, presenting a harder target. Whatever else he was, Lloyd was brave. Then it was our turn.
“Come on,” I urged the other two, tugging on their arms.
The soldiers' attention was elsewhere for the moment, and we had a chance. I fixed my gaze on the house with the blue palisades I'd spotted earlier. It was a quarantine house and stood empty, the gate left half-way open.
We shot up from the bushes, running down the open street, exposed and vulnerable. Everything happened so fast my brain couldn't keep up. My mind fixated on the physical.
Breath coming in ragged gasps.
Heart thumping.
Feet slapping on tar.
The houses slid past one by one.
Too slow.
Then we reached the blue and I ducked inside. Allen and Andy followed and we ran to the back of the house, out of sight of the street. Had they seen us? I couldn't hear anyone following us but wasn't prepared to chance it.
From there, it was a matter of working our way through the block, house by house. The past weeks of tough exercise came in handy as I climbed over walls and crawled under and over stuff. My arms ached as I jumped yet another pre-con wall and landed with an 'oof' in the grass.
A low growl vibrated through the quiet night.
I looked up, into the eyes of a dog, the moonlight glinting off its wet nose.
“Oh, fuck.” I raised a hand, palm out. “It's okay, boy. I'm not here to hurt you.”
He didn't look convinced, lips quivering as he growled again. Slaver dripped from his lips, shoulders stocky and forelegs stiff.
With one hand, I pushed off the ground and stood up, moving with excruciating slowness. The other arm was still stretched out in a gesture of peace the dog clearly did not understand. My fingertips tingled in anticipation of teeth crushing the delicate bones like a bird's.
“Ava, give me your hand.” Andy's whisper reached my ear. I stretched back with searching fingers, eyes glued to the dog, speaking to it in a low, soothing monotone.
“Good boy. There's a good boy.”
Its ears flattened and the hackles rose, enlarging the scruff.
“On three.” Andy's hands gripped mine, strong and dependable.
I swallowed, flinching when the dog barked, muscles bunched to spring. Its lips pulled back further, exposing long canines.
“One.”
I barely heard Andy.
“Two.”
My stomach tightened.
“Three!”
The dog charged.
Andy yanked me back, hauling me over the wall. I stifled a cry as my lower back caught on the edge, the rough concrete scraping the skin. A set of jaws latched onto my left shoe with crushing force. It shook its head, ripping the shoe free. I fell over the wall and into Andy's arms, sagging with relief.
There was no time for celebrating, though. The damned dog was furious, barking like mad. In windows around us, lights came on.
“Over here!”
Beams of light cut through the night, bobbing in concert to the soldiers' steps. They weren't far behind us.
“Hurry,” Allen cried, beckoning us to a wendy house in the corner of the yard.
Andy gave me and Allen a boost then we pulled him up together, grunting at the drag of his weight. On the other side, a wall skirted a corner house and like trapeze artists, we windmilled our way across until we reached the street. Somewhere behind us, faint shouts indicated that the soldiers were still in pursuit.
We upped the pace until I felt my lungs would burst, zig-zagging through the streets until at last, we lost them. We made it back to the house with Allen peeling off along the way to go to his own home. Nobody spoke or said a word about either Matthew or Lloyd.
For all we knew, they'd been captured.
Once back inside our own yard, Andy stopped and sank onto his haunches, pressing a hand to his eyes. “What happened back there?”
“They knew we were coming. It was a trap.”
“Yes, but how did they know?”
I shrugged. “They either worked it out using your past robberies to identify your methods or...”
He looked up at me. “Or?”
“Or one of you talked.”
16
Chapter 15
A faint breeze stirred, cooling my flushed skin. I pulled off my balaclava, running a trembling hand through my hair.
Andy stared at me. “What do you mean, one of us talked?”
“Exactly what I said.”
“Impossible.”
I shrugged. “It's possible.”
“I can't believe you'd say that. My boys wouldn't talk. We're like family.”
I raised my hands to ward off his accusing tone. “I'm not saying they did. I'm saying they might have.”
“You don't know what you're talking about.”
An
dy's glare warned me I'd pushed all the wrong buttons. The last thing I wanted was a fight so I squatted down next to him. “Listen. It's entirely possible no one talked. It's possible the army have been after you guys for a while, studied your ways then set a trap. After all, it's not as if your methods are exactly sophisticated.”
“Yeah, okay.” Andy pushed to his feet and stalked away, pausing when he reached the edge of the patio to stare out into the night. “So now we're dumb too.”
“I didn't say that.” I shook my head. “What's your problem?”
He threw me a look. “You're my problem.”
“What?”
“Before you joined up, everything was fine. We got away with it for weeks, no issues. Then you came along and boom.”
“You can't be serious.” I took a step back, staggered. “You're blaming me?”
“We were fine until you came along.”
“What the hell are you saying? That I split on you?”
He shook his head. “That's not what I'm saying.”
“Then what? That I'm bad luck? What?”
“I'm saying you shouldn't have come, that's what.” He turned, towering over me. “And why did you have to butt in back there? I had everything under control.”
“Under control?” I sputtered, disbelief giving way to anger. “Did you have a plan then?”
His face turned crimson, a deep blush creeping up from his collar. “I'd have thought of something. As it is, we don't know if Lloyd made it, or Matthew.” He pointed a finger at me. “And it's all your fault.”
My blood boiled within my veins and I folded my arms across my chest. “Is it? Is it really my fault, or are you just upset because you froze under pressure and I had to step in to save our asses?”
His face blanched, but I was too angry to care about what I was saying or how much it hurt him. “You're angry because a girl stole your thunder, Andy. Admit it. You can't stand being second-best.”
Silence followed the explosion caused by my words.
“I think maybe this was a mistake,” Andy said after a moment, his voice hoarse.
A sinking feeling took hold but I lifted my chin, defiant. “Meaning?”
The Black Tide I: Remnants (Tides of Blood) Page 12
