“Good,” says Glenn as he guides me out of the dining room. I stop him. “I never washed the bedding.”
“What?” he asks.
“After my parents died. I shut the door and left it as it was. We can’t sleep in there,” I say.
“Okay, well we’ll sleep in your bed, then. It’s cozier anyway.” I think about the twin-size bed in my room and suddenly I’m overcome with nausea. I don’t want to sleep with Glenn tonight. Something is different. There’s a weird distance between us that I cannot begin to understand. I know I should be happy to see him, but every time he touches me I feel nauseated.
“You have any more candles?” asks Glenn as we walk into my room. I just remembered we left all the candles lit down in the bunker. Not good to leave a fire hazard in our safety zone, especially considering my fear of blazing fires.
“Wait here, I’ll go get them,” I say, as I hand him the flashlight.
“Polly…” he calls out. I turn around. “I love you.” I hold back and stiffen at the sound of those words. Something’s really not right. Until I figure it out, I don’t want him to be suspicious, so I blow him a kiss and continue to the bunker. The door is still open so I go down the stairs to find Marcus squatting by the shelves, loading cans in his bag.
“You’re not going,” I say, startling him.
“And why shouldn’t I?” he whispers. “You’ve got your fiancé back. I’m sure he’ll be happy to escort you back to Crimson to rescue Evie. I’m not needed anymore.” Marcus is cold, distant, a completely different man from the one I snuggled with only an hour ago.
I approach him, resting my hand on his shoulder, but he pulls away. “Marcus…”
“Don’t,” he says. Anger fills his eyes and they stab me through the heart. I might cry except I don’t have any tears left.
“I don’t want you to go,” I say. Some of the anger melts away as compassion fights to get through.
“I’m not going to stay in this house while you two… do whatever you’re going to do,” he says.
“Which is nothing. I’m going to sleep in Evie’s room tonight,” I say.
“Does Glenn know this?”
“Not yet,” I lower my voice in case Glenn is near. “Something’s different about him. I just can’t figure it out.”
Marcus’s demeanor changes as he lets his emotional guard down. He’s hurting deeply and doesn’t want to show it.
“I’ll stay for tonight,” he says. “But don’t expect to see me in the morning.” That’s not good enough, but I know I’ll never be able to convince him otherwise, not when he’s like this.
“Thank you.” I want to wrap my arms around him and wallow in his embrace, but I know that’s not possible now. I pick up two candles and extinguish the rest, leaving that scent of smoking wax wafting throughout the bunker. I wait for Marcus to go ahead of me and give him one candle, a pillow and blanket before I head back to my room. The anticipation increases as I mentally rehearse what I am going to say to Glenn. “I need to be alone. I think it’s best if we sleep separately tonight. It has nothing to do with Marcus. I love you.”
On the way back, I stop at the bathroom. It’s been I don’t know how long since I’ve showered. My legs are caked with dried mud and I still have dirt under my nails from digging in the garden earlier. I must smell like a bag of rotten potatoes. Luckily, my parents had a new water system installed last summer, so the water still runs even when the power is out. I stand under the shower, allowing the icy water to prick my back like a thousand sharp nails. Normally, I’d keep it short, but I’m buying time before I have to face Glenn again. As I’m stepping out of the shower, I notice a quick glint of light out of the corner of my eye. The doorknob turns a quarter of an inch before it abruptly stops. Good thing I locked the door. Glenn is waiting for me. Knowing him, he probably wanted to join me in the shower. I’d better get my clothes back on and face him.
I open the door to the bedroom. He must have turned the flashlight off because it is pitch black except for the dim light radiating from the candle I’m holding, which only penetrates a small radius.
“Glenn?” I whisper.
“Over here.” He is already in my bed, under the blanket.
“Glenn, I don’t think we should…” I can’t even finish before he takes the candle from me, sets it down, and plants his wet lips over mine in a sloppy kiss. I can’t push him away. If I do he’ll know that there is something between Marcus and me. Glenn’s kisses are so different than Marcus’s. When Marcus kisses me it drives deep down into my soul. Glenn’s kisses barely scratch the surface.
I allow him to pull me down into bed with him, where I realize he is naked under the covers. When he starts to unbutton my shirt, I stop him. “Please Glenn,” I say.
“What’s wrong,” he whispers under his deep panting.
“I’m still sore from all that running. Can we just lay here and cuddle tonight?”
“Of course,” he says and my tensions are eased, if only for a moment.
“Your clothes smell,” Glenn says. “You should at least take them off.” The savage waters in my gut begin to surge as the nausea takes over. Glenn still sees me as the same naïve young girl he met five years ago.
But he’s right. They stink of sweat and death. I get up and discreetly change into an oversized tee shirt and clean underwear. As I am sliding them up my thighs, Glenn shines the flashlight on me. “Glenn, stop!” I yell in a hushed tone. He snickers and turns it off as I climb into the bed.
His close proximity makes my skin crawl. Then Glenn touches me and the sensation deepens into my muscles. His fingers draw up my hips over my waist, under the tee shirt.
“Glenn, please,” I say. “I just want to sleep.” I turn over to lie on my left side, yanking my shirt back down. He leans over and wraps his arm over me and between my breasts in a hold that even the sharpest illusionist couldn’t escape.
In the background I hear the shower running. Marcus must have heard me earlier and wanted to take one himself. Maybe it was him trying to open the door. I imagine standing under the running water with him, flesh to flesh, embracing our carnal desires. My heartbeat quickens and my skin warms at the thought. Glenn’s twitching fingers bring me back to reality. I need to get some sleep.
But I can’t sleep. Thoughts are spinning through my head that I can’t make sense of. My suspicions about Glenn. The fear of losing Marcus. Whether or not I can trust the COPS. How I might infiltrate Crimson and safely get Evie out of there. Eventually, my brain fatigue forces me into a deep slumber.
I awaken the next morning alone. Deep down inside, I’m hoping that this was all a horrible nightmare and I’ll find my mother in the kitchen drinking coffee, my father will be at work. As I walk by the mirror on my dresser lined with old track and field trophies, I see my reflection and my hopes are crushed. The crusty scab on my face is beginning to peel. I put on a jade camisole and a pair of white knee-length shorts, grateful that I had the opportunity to shave my legs last night. The pattering of water on the floor in the bathroom indicates that Glenn is taking a shower. This would be the perfect time to talk to Marcus.
I go to the living room to check on him but, just as he said, he’s gone. The blanket is folded up with the pillow on top and a note with my name on it. I open it and read:
I’m sorry, but I cannot stay any longer. I hope you and Glenn find happiness together. I’m on my way to find Myra and join the COPS. I hope to see you soon.
He signed it with a single heart. I crumple up the note and take it to the recycle bin so that Glenn doesn’t see it. I think he already suspects something between Marcus and me but he hasn’t said anything yet. I’d like to keep it that way. I notice the newspaper sprawled across the floor where I left it last night. I return that to the bin as well.
I stroll back past the bathroom, and notice the bathroom door is ajar. I can’t resist a peek.
I peer at Glenn’s reflection in the wet mirror. The bathroom is dark, with no w
indows to let in the daylight. The flickering candle from our room is the only source of illumination but the mirror helps to broaden the light.
Glenn leans over the sink washing his face with a blue washcloth. He drops it into the sink, and then he fumbles around his eyes with his fingers. Using his thumb and index finger, he takes something out of his right eye: a contact lens. When did Glenn start wearing contacts? He’s never even worn glasses before. I have to rub my eyes and focus to be sure I am seeing this clearly enough through the darkness. My insides erupt in an explosion of panic. The contact lens was not there to correct his vision. It was there to disguise something, hide a mark that he didn’t want me to see. The mark of the Trinity.
Chapter 13
His eyes glance over at the reflection of the door in the mirror framed with darkness. I slide away, leaning my back flat against the wall, praying he didn’t see me. My breathing subsides as he approaches the door within inches of me. The door claps shut. I release my breath in one quick sigh.
Like a plummeting meteor I quickly head back to my bedroom, grabbing my shoes and the flashlight. I need to get out of the house now. There’s no time to waste packing up necessities. Maybe I can catch up with Marcus down the road—but only if he left recently. It could have been last night for all I know. Perhaps he checked Evie’s room and found that I was not there. He’d know that I’d shared a bed with Glenn.
In a kitchen drawer, I find the keys to my father’s car. I just hope it has enough fuel to get me far enough from away. Away from Glenn.
The door creaks as I open it. I freeze for a moment and hear Glenn on the other side of the house, “Pollen? Is that you?” Adrenaline pumps through me and I slam my hand on the garage door opener, close the door behind me, and race to the car. The door is locked so I push the button to open it. But it’s not working. I push again and again. The remote battery is dead.
Finally, grasping the key with both hands, one violently trembling like an overloaded washing machine and the other to hold it steady, I barely manage to get it into the keyhole. Then I hear the click of the door unlocking.
Bending over to get into the driver’s seat, I look back through the window of the kitchen door and see Glenn coming around the corner into the kitchen, his hair soaking wet, wearing only a bath towel around his waist. I toss my shoes and flashlight into the passenger seat and the keys fling off with them. Panicked, I slam the door and lock it.
I look back again as I lean over to retrieve the keys and Glenn is opening the door to the garage. My hands feel around the seat until I touch the sharp, cold metal and grab the keys. I halfway expect to see him at the window when I sit up to put the key in the ignition but he’s not there.
I hear a loud rumble and the garage door begins to descend. Reaching up to the remote control on the ceiling of the car, I press the button but it doesn’t work. Another dead battery. My heart is racing and beads of sweat are beginning to drip down my face.
Finally the car fires up and there is Glenn, next to me, banging on the window, pleading me to get out and come with him. But the garage door is coming down and I don’t have time for second thoughts. The tires screech as I fly off into the driveway, scraping the roof of the car as I pass under the closing garage door.
I swing the steering wheel to the left and zoom down the street. My heart is pounding like a hammer trying to beat its way out of my chest and I wonder, did I do the right thing? Maybe I just imagined the eye tattoo. No. It was there. Clear as day. And it did seem unusual that he would try to keep Marcus from leaving the house. Glenn has never been fond of competition. But why would Glenn betray me? We’ve been together for five years. He wanted to spend his life with me. This doesn’t make sense.
Part of me wants to go back—the young, innocent, naïve me; the part of me that has been slowly dying ever since I woke up in those woods. I feel a new me emerging. A stronger, more confident, indomitable me that will not fall prey to the cunning nature of the Glenns left in the world.
I’ve been so focused on my thoughts that I’ve lost track of where I am or how long I’ve been driving, although I’m sure it’s only been a few miles. Then I see a figure up ahead near the edge of the woods. Could it be him? Could it be Marcus? If it is, he must have left the house within the last two hours. The figure dodges into the woods when he sees me slow down. I stop the car and jump out, barely putting on the brake in time.
“Marcus!” I shout. “Marcus is that you?”
Marcus comes shuffling out of the woods reluctantly, eying me with uncertainty.
“Hurry up! Get in, he could be here any moment!” I yell. He shakes away the uncertainty and dashes to the car. I get back in and see a black truck coming towards us in the rearview mirror just as Marcus closes his door. It’s Glenn’s truck. There’s no time to lose so I put the car in gear and slam my foot down on the gas pedal, forcing Marcus’s head back into the seat.
“What happened?” he asked.
“He’s one of them. I saw him taking off a contact lens this morning. He has the mark,” I say. The old me would have broken down and wept. But not anymore. Instead, I channel my aggression into the gas pedal to try and put more distance between Glenn’s truck and us.
“I knew something wasn’t right,” Marcus says under his breath.
“You know, I don’t need an ‘I told you so’ right now,” I say.
“Of course,” says Marcus. “What you need is a partner.” He puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. The smirk on my face can’t describe how good I feel right now—being here with Marcus, being strong enough to run away from Glenn and knowing no matter what happens, I’ll never really be alone again because all the strength I need is within me.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry I fell for him and put us in danger. We should have just stayed in the bunker.”
“No, Pollen,” says Marcus, “He knew we were there. He would have waited. Or found us. There’s nothing you could have done. I’m just sorry I abandoned you. If I had stuck around we could have dealt with it there and avoided this.”
I slow just enough to make a right turn, then another immediate left, with screeching tires, trying to evade the truck. But it continues to draw closer to us. I make another right turn to get on the highway ramp. Now I’m able to pick up real speed. The highway is straight, with very few curves and obviously no traffic. I press on the gas until I’m going about one hundred fifteen miles per hour, zooming past trees and guardrails in a blur. Glenn is still behind me, but is keeping a steady distance.
Marcus leans over, looking over the back of his seat. “What are you looking for?” I ask. He digs through pockets, under seats and in the glove compartment.
“Something to deter your fiancé,” he says.
“Right, my fiancé. I can’t believe he’d do this to me,” I mutter.
“Got it!” says Marcus. He opens the sunroof, stands up into it, and tosses something on the road behind us.
I look in the rearview mirror and see Glenn’s truck swerve violently off road, crashing into the guardrail. His truck spins back into the roadway, flipping onto the passenger side, and finally coming to rest in the center lane.
My stomach turns and I feel suddenly nauseated at the idea of what we had just done. After all, Glenn and I do have a history together. And I don’t want him to get hurt, even if he is out to capture us. I look back again. It doesn’t look that bad. I’m sure he’s okay. At least that’s what I tell myself.
I turn to Marcus, who is leaning between the seats looking back at Glenn’s truck. “What did you throw?” I ask.
“Lug wrench,” he says, still looking back. I suppose he wants to make sure Glenn doesn’t recover and continue the chase. After about a minute, Marcus relaxes and turns back to the road.
“So what’s the plan?” he asks. “Where are we going?”
My mind goes blank. “I have no idea. I had to get out of there as fast as possible. I didn’t have time to plan anything.”
We
pass under a sign that reads
Exit 78
Gambit Hill Road
1 mile
“Take the exit at Windfield Harbor. It should be about five or six miles from here. We’ll go to my place to figure out our next move,” Marcus says.
But we don’t make it that far. Just around a slight curve we approach a barricade of vehicles across the highway. Ten men in blue uniforms are standing in front of the blockade with guns pointed directly at us. Glenn must have reported us already. I only have a few seconds to react, so I slam my foot on the brake and veer the car sharply to the right to try to make it to the exit ramp. Marcus and I are thrown to the side of the vehicle and I can only hope I slowed down enough to avoid flipping the car.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of gunfire and a loud boom. The car veers left and right, out of my control, until we slam into a ditch, just off the exit ramp.
I hit my head on the top of the steering wheel and can already feel a welt rising up just above my hairline. For a brief second, I’m confused, disoriented. They must have shot out one of the tires. Then I come to my senses. We need to get out of here. Now.
“Marcus?” I say. My neck is stiff and it hurts to do so, but I turn to look at him. He is unconscious, head against the dashboard. “Marcus! Wake up!” I scream, shaking his arm. But he is not coming to. I know we didn’t crash that hard. He should be okay, but I check his pulse just to be sure. Yes, he’s just knocked out.
The crash of breaking glass startles me and before I have time to react, a man in blue is jabbing a syringe into my arm. Then, blackness.
Chapter 14
Indescribable chaos. After the virus unleashed its deadly blanket over the country, the world seemed to crack apart at the seams. Neighbors turned on each other. Well-respected citizens became criminals. A highly evolved race of people became brutal savages. Evie and I holed up in our house and were oblivious to the nature of our new society. Our first experience with this barbarous pandemic is one that I’d never thought I’d forget, although I did.
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