by Gina Shafer
The call came about an hour after I got him to sleep for the first time. I was singing to him softly as his eyes were beginning to close and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before he was out. After I finally laid him down, I snuck away from his bed and turned off his light, making sure to plug in the small nightlight in the corner of the room.
As I closed his door softly, hoping not to wake him, Vara was standing in the hallway. At first I smiled, thinking she just couldn’t handle letting someone else take over her motherly duties. But, when I took in her features, I knew. I just knew it was something bad.
Her hand was clutched to her chest, holding my cell phone. Silent tears were streaming down her face. Still, even through her obvious despair, she whispered so she wouldn’t wake Soren.
“Your dad,” she mouthed; only a hint of her voice escaped her chest.
I walked directly into our room upstairs and punched a hole in the wall. After, I sat on the chair in the corner of the room for hours, staring at the throw pillow I had thrown out of my way and idly wondering why the hell anyone buys throw pillows in the first place.
My father was off on his numbers, the intel that Vara had provided was skewed somehow, and when he broke into the compound the demons were staying in, he was met with so much more than they were prepared for. They killed him before he even knew what was happening. The only one who got free was Cormac.
Now I’m sitting at the kitchen table writing in this journal to keep Vara happy. I had a nightmare last night after I finally lay down to sleep. Part of me will always regret not being there with my father. But another part of me, a deep place inside me, one I would never admit to out loud, is filled with pure joy that I wasn’t there. That I’m still here with my family… That I get to see Soren’s next day.
It takes us a couple hours to reach the warehouse, and what we are met with when we arrive… it makes my stomach coil itself into knots. I’ve never seen the Sicarri so taken off guard; it’s surreal. You can see the smoke from about a mile out, the whole left side billowing with grey. It looks like there was an explosion near the back of the building. We lost so many of our men and women; they killed so many of our soldiers, and injured families. Looking at the warehouse right now is like peering into war and having it slap you in the face while taking everything you have. I hear the coughs and gurgles of the people around me and I grasp Soren’s hand to the right of me, and then reach for Karina’s hand on the other side. I give each a tight squeeze, never making eye contact, and then we all three set out to work.
I’m sickened at the sight before me, but I dare not show it. A man sits in front of me, screaming. His screams are so loud, the sound doesn’t even seem to be coming from his mouth anymore. No, it feels like the strangled noise is emanating from his entire body. Every cell is in pain. His legs are gone, both of them blown off in the explosion. He is clutching his arms to his middle, and I’m trying, but failing miserably, to calm him so I can look at the damage done there. I’m lost. I have no idea how to help this man, and I almost feel like it would be kinder of me to just kill him and put him out of his suffering. Anyone who screams like that should not be tortured with living. Karina bumps into me, brushing me away from the man, sensing my loss at what to do for him. I was never a healer. I was always a fighter. I did my best helping my brothers on the battlefield, but when the work was done and any men were injured, the healers would always swoop in and fix things before we ever had to.
I watch for a moment as Karina calms the man, talking softly to him about his wife. Telling him that she is safe and alive, and he will be able to see her soon. Briefly, I hope she’s right, that she’s telling the truth. Then I remember that it’s Karina speaking. She would never lie to spare your feelings, no matter if you just lost both your legs in a battle no one could have expected to happen in the first place.
I turn to take in the makeshift infirmary we helped set up when we arrived. It’s nothing impressive, but it works. We gathered as many tables as we could find that still stood upright, but most of the injured are lying on the floor. We don’t have enough resources for everyone, but we’re doing the best we can.
I feel a tap on my shoulder and I spin around, hating the feeling I get in my chest when I think it could be another injured person. My heart feels heavy, too heavy to continue, and in this moment I am so thankful that Karina is here. But when I turn to see who is behind me, it’s not another mangled body. It’s my son. I try not to let him see my relief.
“Come on, Dad,” Soren says, and starts to lead the way from the room. I see Shae and Lu in the corner of the warehouse, working on getting a computer back to life. I realize something is missing when I look at my son. I can’t put my finger on it until I catch the movement from the corner of the room. Willow is there, curled up next to a young girl with a bandage wrapped around the left side of her face. Her uncovered eye is red-rimmed and swollen from crying. My chest feels like a hand is tightly gripped around my heart, squeezing, squeezing, until eventually it will stop beating.
I have to get out of this room. I look to Karina to make sure she will be okay here if I leave, and she nods her head in approval.
“You’re no good here,” she calls out to me, teasing. I would smile under different circumstances, and I know she would too. She’s right though; she works quicker and easier when I’m out of the way.
I shake my head in agreement and turn from the room, following after my son.
“What do we know?” I say once I catch up with Soren. We’re still walking at a brisk pace when we reach the door of the arms room, luckily unchanged from the explosion.
“Not much,” Soren answers as he opens the door. We are met by Marcel, Ted, Xo, and Micha, who are standing around, their faces low with grief. I am reminded that these men were brothers to them, and I feel the same grief when my mind floods with the images of all the brothers I have lost.
“We know this was planned, to hit us both in the same night. Our defenses were down,” Marcel explains from the far corner of the room. The pinewood lining the walls is empty. This must have been the first place the Sicarri brothers came when they learned the shadow-walkers were attacking, grabbing whatever weapon they could and running to join the fight.
“How are we on intel? Do we know why they attacked?” I ask.
“We’ve been trying to get the computers up and running, but we haven’t had much luck. We’re going to have to make a trip back to the house to run intel on Karina and Scarlett’s set up,” Soren tells me. The stacked computers back at the house flash through my mind. Karina and Scarlett spent days building that system.
“You realize I’m going to make them pay for this?” I say to Soren, my anger bubbling over when I think of the fear those people must have felt. Families are here, women and children. They don’t deserve this.
“I’d be disappointed if you said we weren’t,” Soren answers. I can see the fury rippling through his body, and I know the shadow-walkers are going to have one hell of a fight on their hands.
“I will stay behind,” Ted says. “I won’t leave my brothers when so many are wounded.” His jaw flexes at his last words. I understand. Ted is loyal, and I wouldn’t expect him to leave any of the men or women here.
“Xo and I will follow you. We’re going to find the bastards that did this, Elijah. And I’m going to laugh as I turn their bodies into ash,” Marcel says. I can see the honesty in his eyes. It’s impossible not to take him seriously in this moment.
“What about Lincoln?” Soren asks, and I’m reminded that I wanted to know how his training went with Lincoln before we were attacked at the house, but I know that now is not the time to ask. I make a mental note to check in on that later. I haven’t seen Lincoln since we pulled up to the warehouse.
“Find him,” I say, and Soren swiftly leaves the room.
“You’ll have to talk to Karina about leaving,” Marcel says. I’m suddenly struck by the thought that she might not want to. She’s in her element
here, helping, doing some good. I won’t take her from that. I won’t sway her either way, no matter how hard it’s going to be if she wants to stay. I nod my head in answer to Marcel’s statement. I will do my best, but I won’t force her.
“What about you, Micha? Scarlett’s intel could do us a load of good. I know you won’t want to separate from each other,” Marcel asks as he moves his body to face the man he’s speaking to.
“I’ll talk to Scarlett,” he answers, and I watch as he leaves the room, no doubt to find his wife and make their plan together. Unity. It’s nice to look at.
“We’ll help with what we can tonight,” I say. “Then we’ll head back to the house in the morning,” I finish.
When our meeting is finished, I find a quiet spot outside up against the warehouse. The smoke still billowing overhead makes it hard to breathe, but it’s easier to fill my lungs out here than it is inside. I lean my head back and it hits the steel wall with a thud that carries across the surface.
I stare into the clouds, so white and pure, and the anguish begins to fall like rain, wetting my clothes, soaking my body.
It shouldn’t be this way. I wish now more than ever that I could take hold of the people that I love and fly into the clouds with them. Deep in thought, I jump when I feel something brush against my arm.
Willow.
She wraps her body around my legs, laying her head against my knee, and I find myself mindlessly petting down her back as we sit. Maybe she needs a break from the carnage inside as well.
We sit for a long time. Waiting for the smoke to move through the clouds. I feel my guilt grow heavy, like a blanket covering me from head to toe. I should be inside helping everyone. I know this, but I still don’t move. I can’t move.
Then, I hear a voice break through my thoughts and I turn in the direction the unexpected noise came from.
“Dad? What are you doing out here?” Soren calls out. He’s squinting against the setting sun behind me and walking closer. Willow, the traitor that she is, jumps up and plants herself to Soren’s side.
“I can’t go in there, Soren.” I say once he’s close enough to hear me. The truth is, I’ve tried to get up, more than once. Tried to force myself into the building, but my fear paralyzes me. All of this is my fault.
“Dad, what are you talking about?” Soren’s face is masked with confusion. Does he really have no idea?
“It’s all my fault, Soren.” I begin to voice my thoughts out loud, but he interrupts me before I can get it all out.
“No. What are you talking about?” he asks as he moves to sit on the ground next to me. Willow follows suit, plopping down at our feet with a huff of air escaping her lips.
I stare at my hands for a moment before I start to speak. I’m searching for the words.
“If I had never left you that morning, none of this would have happened. The Sicarri would have been strong enough to counter Abe, to hold our ground and not let them take over. I should have stayed with you. I should have protected you. And what do I do when I finally get home? I take you from your brothers, from the only family you’ve known while I was gone. I left them weak; I took some of the best Sicarri brothers from them. All of this would never have happened if I had made the right choices, Soren. I chose wrong. I always choose wrong. So I’m sitting here, where I can’t make any more bad decisions. Where I can keep everyone safe from myself.”
I’m rambling and I know it, but that doesn’t stop me. I open my mouth to continue my self-deprecating speech, but Soren speaks up before I get a chance to go on.
“Dad, listen to me. You shouldn’t feel any guilt for what happened. It’s not your fault,” Soren says. I know his eyes are boring holes into my head, but I keep mine trained at the cement. How can he possibly understand?
“But...” I start, and I’m interrupted again by Willow’s rumbling growl. Soren and I both look to her, confused, but she simply lays her head back down onto the pavement. Clearly she isn’t happy with what I’m saying either.
“If you had stayed home, would you have ever learned about Mom? Let’s be honest, Dad. You would have probably suffered the same fate as your own dad. You would have stormed into some compound somewhere and you would have probably gone down in battle. I would have been left without a father. At least this way, we have a chance to fight them together. And as far as my Sicarri brothers, they were the first to cast me aside. I’m just glad you were here to sway some of the others to join us. None of the guilt from this should be weight on your back. Okay?” Soren tells me. It’s funny that in most of our conversations Soren has a way of making me feel more like the child. I should be the one comforting him, not the other way around.
When Soren finishes, he stands and reaches his hand toward me, helping me to my feet. I look him square in the eyes for the first time since he came out here, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t in awe with the man my son has become. He impresses me too many times to count.
“Okay,” I say, and we make our way back into the warehouse.
I spot Karina across the way and I walk directly to her, giving Soren a pat on the shoulder when we break away. When Karina sees me, she steps off to the side. It must be clear on my face that I need to talk to her, because I see the worry lines deep in her brow even from here.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” I ask her. I need to talk to her, to convince her to join us back at the house. My agenda is clear, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t forget everything I wanted to say whenever I look in her sea glass eyes.
“Sure,” she says, and she wipes her hands across the front of her jeans, looking down the line of people waiting to be treated.
“I’ll be quick,” I tell her.
This entire time she’s been here helping with the wounded. I wonder idly if she’s even taken a five-minute break. Probably not. Guilt climbs its way back up my spine like a vine, but I ignore it, remembering Soren’s words.
This is not my fault.
“Where to?” she asks once she’s spoken to the heavyset man at the cot next to hers, thinking of the job first and asking him to cover for her for a few minutes.
“There are a few barracks rooms that weren’t hit by the explosion. Follow me,” I say, and she falls into step next to me when I begin to walk. We’re quiet until we finally reach a room with a wall that is only slightly crumbled and remnants of the room next to it are littered along the floor.
I turn to shut the door behind me and I feel Karina’s hand on my back the warmth of her skin moves through the fabric of my shirt and I silently wish it would take over my entire body.
“What is it, Elijah?” she asks. I spin around and pull her body close to mine, searching for more of that warmth. Her eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t push me away. Does she want this as much as I do? Has she been fighting it as hard as I have been?
“We’re planning on going back to the house. They’re not having much luck getting any intel here. Marcel is gathering the others, we’re going to take Abe down,” I say, my voice tight. I’m still afraid that she’s going to say she wants to stay here. It’s stupid of me, because I know it’s probably best for her to be here, helping people, and out of the line of fire… for now. Still, I want her around me. She soothes my burns like a balm, inside and outside. I take a deep breath burying my face in her neck, filling my lungs with her scent. Even after all that she’s done today, I still catch the faint essence of fresh mint in her hair.
“And?” she asks. My head pops up so that my eyes meet hers. “Did you think I wasn’t coming?” She takes a step back and crosses her arms over her chest.
Yes, I did, I answer with my eyes.
“I’m not that easy to get rid of,” she says as she releases a tiny chuckle from deep within her chest. The noise is a welcome change from the deep and depressing atmosphere outside of this room.
“Thank fuck for that,” I say, letting out a breath. I pull her even closer and wrap my fingers around her waist, so that her body is fl
ush with mine. She wraps her arms around my middle, running her hands up and down my back.
“I’m with you, you know. I don’t know why, but I’ve decided not to question it,” she whispers right before our lips touch, and all thought escapes my mind. She’s right, we shouldn’t question something that feels as right as this does.
“I’m with you too. I know this is sudden and I never expected this, but I’m sick of denying myself because I think it should be wrong. You’re what I want. And I’m not going to feel bad about that anymore,” I say, and I meant it. I let the guilt fall away and allow myself to finally feel everything I’ve been holding back for Karina.
“I want you too,” She says, breathless. I bring my hands up to wrap my fingers around her jaw, and close the distance between our mouths. Her lips against mine wreck me. She’s so soft and warm. She’s good. And I would drown in her if I could. I would die against her crashing waves and be happy doing so.
When she opens her lips to me, I gently drag my tongue across her bottom lip before invading her mouth. I cup the back of her head and kiss her with everything I have. My other hand travels back down her body, gripping her waist and then traveling farther down until I lean to hook my fingers around the back of her thigh. She understands what I want because she starts to back up into the wall behind us, and I follow. When her back hits softly against the cold surface, she lets out a breath and I’m on her before she can release all the air from her lungs.
I lift her against the wall and push my groin against the apex of her thighs as I continue trailing my kisses down her throat and nipping her collarbone. The position reminds me of the first time we kissed, only this time I have no intentions of stopping.
I want to feel more of her. I want the heat of her skin to collide with mine and warm the cold, dark room that we’re in. I drag my fingers from her thighs, holding my body against her even harder so that she’s pinned against the wall firmly without the help of my hands. She gasps and breaks our kiss when she feels my arousal pressing against her center, and my lips turn up a little. My fingertips find the hem of her shirt and pull it up, exposing the soft mounds of her breasts. She’s wearing an all black bra, the only embellishment is a delicate line of lace around the straps. It fits her perfectly.
