Sunlight

by Gwen Cole

  Carrie’s eyes flickered to us, obviously not knowing what we were talking about. Like I said before, not many people watched old classics.

  Then I said, “Every time I watch the part when Napoleon goes to Summer’s house to pick her up for the dance, and Pedro’s cousins are in the background, playing with the hydraulics in their car, I laugh so hard sometimes tears come out. It never gets old.”

  “I wish I had cousins like that,” he agreed.

  My eyes were becoming heavy again. I couldn’t keep them open, even when I wanted to. “Will you still be here when I wake up?” I asked, feeling myself drift away.

  “Yes.”

  That was the last thing I remembered before I fell asleep again. It was a deep sleep, one where I couldn’t remember anything. Just blackness for however long I was out.

  And I welcomed it.

  ✢✢✢

  The next time I woke my head was clear and my mind was sharp. I no longer had a fever. Not even remnants of one. My head was facing a window and I could see the tips of trees swaying in the wind with birds flittering around the tops. It was sunny. I couldn’t not smile; it had rained for so long I had lost count of the days.

  The window was open, allowing a soft breeze through that ruffled the curtains gently.

  I heard soft breathing near me and I looked over.

  West was there, sitting in a chair pulled up close to the mattress. His face was propped up in one of his hands as he leaned on the side of the bed reading a book. His forearm had fresh bandages wrapped around it. He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he didn’t notice me watching him, or that I’d even woken.

  Feelings grew inside me as I studied the way his fingers laced through his dark hair, and the way his eyes moving along the pages. Feelings I only had when I was near him. I was always nervous, butterflies always in my stomach, and my heartbeat sometimes raced. But it wasn’t a bad nervous. It was a happy nervous. It didn’t make sense as I thought about it, but it made sense when I felt it.

  His eyes wandered up to mine, never moving. Though his lips did form a small smile on the side of his mouth. The cuts and bruises on the left side of his face weren’t as noticeable anymore, making me wonder how many days I had slept through.

  “I’m glad you’re awake finally,” he finally said. West closed his book. “But just to have you know, you missed an awesome fight between a duck and cow.”

  I laughed which made his smile widen.

  “The duck won, right?,” I tried to answer seriously.

  “Oh, for sure.”

  I pushed myself up against my pillow so I could sit up, but pain shot up from my knee. I didn’t let it stop me. West noticed my slight wince and his eyes dropped for a fraction of second.

  “Reese, I need to tell you something,” he said suddenly. He ruffled his hair before folding his arms to lean on the bed. “And I want to do it before I find some excuse to put it off. Well, that is, before I put it off again.” He seemed to be thinking about everything at once, and not knowing where to start. My heart thumped away where he couldn’t see.

  “When I was standing alone in the woods after I realized you were gone, I felt something inside me. Something . . . I didn’t understand. I wasn’t sure about it before— maybe even ignored it, or believing it was something else—but it kept growing. And it hasn’t stopped. That one day I was away from you, I barely remember anything. I was so focused on getting you out that I didn’t think about anything else.”

  West paused and my emotions came rushing over me. My mouth was so dry that I don’t think I could talk if I wanted to.

  “Then . . .” He looked down and creased his eyebrows together like he didn’t want to replay something in his head. “That night in the rain, when you were pulled out of the truck, and I heard the gun shot—” He looked up, piercing me. “I felt lost,” he said. “For those few moments when I thought you were dead . . . I couldn’t think.”

  And there it was.

  West had said it so clearly that there was no way I’d heard it wrong. I knew my feelings for West—they had snuck up on me until they were staring me in the face. But what I didn’t know was if he felt the same towards me.

  Until now.

  And I never would’ve guessed that I would fall in love with a boy who was supposed to be my enemy.

  “Will you promise me something, Reese?” West asked, and I nodded, unable to much else. “Please don’t put me through anything like that again.”

  “I’ll try,” I answered truthfully. “I promise.”

  The door opened then, and West sat back in his chair and composed his face which consisted of too much anxiety. Carrie stepped into the room and noticed me sitting up.

  “I’m glad your finally awake,” she said as she stepped up beside the bed. She pressed the back of her hand against my forehead. “Looks like your fever has finally gone, too.”

  “How long was I asleep?”

  West answered, “Two days.”

  Carrie turned towards him with a playful glare on her face. “How’s your arm today?”

  “It’s fine,” he answered curtly with a polite smile.

  “That’s what you said when I first asked you, when it was still bleeding and dripping all over my hardwood floors.”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal and stood up. “I’m going to see if Malcolm needs any help.”

  West flashed me a quick smile before leaving.

  After I watched him leave, Carrie examined my knee. She was probably in her early forties with golden blonde hair that she kept in a simple pony tail. She told me she worked as a nurse until a few years ago when they had decided to move to the country. Her husband, Malcolm, had always wanted to have a small farm, and they just went for it. I’m lucky they took that chance.

  “Your knee looked horrible when I first saw it,” she told me. “But after I cleaned it, it turned out to be better than I had thought. Luckily, the bullet was small and had missed most of your kneecap, only skimming it. So it won’t take as long to heal.”

  “How long will it take?” I was afraid of the answer.

  “Well, that depends on how long your body takes to heal. Everyone is different. In about a week, I’ll help you do exercises and stretches and soon after that, small amounts of time walking with a brace. It’s a slow process, but if you do it right, you’ll probably be able to walk unassisted and without a brace within five or six weeks. You’ll hopefully be back to normal within eight.”

  That was almost a month and a half. I didn’t think I would be able to stay here that long, not while thinking of Ethan being somewhere without me. I felt a pang of guilt when I realized I hadn’t thought of him since we had that run-in with the soldiers.

  I desperately needed to find him.

  “I’ve already told West that we would love for you to stay here,” she continues on when I don’t say anything. “He was worried that it was going to put us in danger, but it’s too late for that. We were already in danger before you came.”

  “What has he told you?”

  Carrie smiled at my careful expression. “He’s told us everything.”

  “Everything?” I asked doubtfully.

  “Everything,” she said, “including the part about where he’s from, and how you two ended up traveling together. He said he didn’t want to hide anything from us since we agreed to have you two living here for a while.”

  “So does anyone else live here, besides you and your husband?”

  “No, it’s just us. But we’re hoping our daughter will come home soon. She was living in the North City when everything happened.” She broke off and I didn’t know what to say.

  “My brother and parents were in the South City,” I said.

  She nodded and stood. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. You both deserve some time to rest.” She brush my hair back like Mom used to, and I felt a lump rise in my throat. “I’ve got some food made for you, so I’ll have West bring it in. I’m sure you two have
some catching up to do.”

  I nodded absently as she left.

  Even though I wanted nothing more than to move on from here, to try and find Ethan and Mom and Dad, there was nothing I could do about it. But there was one good thing that came out of all this.

  West was here with me, and I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  West came back with a tray of food five minutes later with a smile on his face.

  He gently placed the tray on the table and helped me sit up again, arranging the pillows behind my back. As I ate he just sat there, trying not to make it obvious when he glanced at me. It was cute in a way, and I seemed to be blushing too often. The downfalls of being a girl.

  “So, how did you do it?” I finally asked.

  “Do what?”

  “Get me out,” I said. “How was it that there was nobody around when we left? And how did you get in?”

  “Oh.” He glanced up with a mischievous smile. “Well, there were a few fires that broke out over in their armory, and maybe some . . . explosions.” West placed his hand on his chest. “Not that it wasn’t my fault or anything.” He leaned on the bed, putting his chin in one of his hands. “I just got lucky.”

  He winked at me and I smiled back. “But what about the guards outside my door?”

  “Well, I had some inside help with that one.”

  “Devon?”

  He looked up in surprise. “How did you know he was there?”

  I shrugged. “I thought I recognized him, and so I asked. I only saw him once though, and not for very long.”

  He nodded thinking. “Well, without him it would have been close to impossible to do what I did. When the explosions went off, he took care of the guards right after everybody else had left.”

  “Did you talk to him at all?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. I told him to come with us, but he refused.”

  “Why?”

  He opened his mouth and paused. “I’m not exactly sure. He just said, ‘I want to be able to have that chance like you had.’ I don’t even know what that means but it’s his choice.”

  I thought about what Devon had said that night. About West’s decision making a difference everywhere throughout the army. Like a chain reaction. I had no doubt that Devon wanted a chance to do good, too, just like his brother had. West had no idea that he had changed people’s way of thinking as much as he had. And now the army wanted him for doing what he did, and I didn’t think they would stop.

  “Are we safe here?” I asked, taking the last bite of my sandwich. I hadn’t realized how hungry I had been until it was gone.

  “Yeah, I think so. We drove for a while before the truck ran out of gas and Malcolm found us. He also made his driveway hidden from anyone passing by on the road. Not to mention their house is about a mile from the road.” He nodded his head again. “I think we’ll be all right for a while. And I can’t see why the army would keep looking anyway. They can’t want me that bad.”

  “West—”

  He looked back at me and my face must have given me away because his smile dropped. “What?”

  “They do want to find you that bad,” I said.

  His face was blank as he stared back. “What? How do you know?”

  “Because of that one decision you made, to help those people escape. That one stand against what you thought was wrong started something more.” West opened his mouth to say something but I continued. “Devon told me that there were others that have been following in your footsteps, doing things they think are right. More and more people are beginning to see this war as a mistake and trying to help stop it. It’s not just you anymore.”

  “Why do they still want me then?” he asked. “I’m not their leader. Why am I so important to them if other people are doing it, too?”

  I could tell that he was frustrated and I had the urge to touch his hand that was close to me, but again . . . I didn’t.

  “They want you because you’re the one that started it all,” I told him. “They hope that once they catch you and . . . make an example of you, it’ll all end. They just want to prove you are as much human as the rest of them. To stop the fire where it started.”

  West sighed, and sat back, thinking about what I had told him. I wasn’t sure he was believing it.

  Finally, he said, “Well, we’ll just have to be more careful when we start traveling again, but I think you already know that.” He noticed that I was done eating and asked, “You want more? Carrie has plenty and you should eat as much as you can.”

  I stared at him, waiting for what I thought I was going to hear, but I was surprised when he didn’t.

  “That’s all you have to say?” I shook my head. “The whole United army is after you, and you just say is that we have to be more careful? That can’t be the only thing going through your head.”

  “To be honest . . . I don’t know what’s going through my head.”

  After giving me a weak smile, West left to get me more food.

  ✢✢✢

  After the week had passed, Carrie started having me do slow stretches in the morning and night. It hurt and felt good all at once. After a few days with no swelling she had me do more, and finally starting having me put small amounts of weight on it. My knee was weak, but everyday I could feel it becoming stronger.

  I still hadn’t been out of the house yet, and I was dying to. The weather was perfect after all those days of rain, making everything extremely green and lush.

  But I wasn’t able to walk yet, so I settled with reading books while giving my knee a break. It was too hot and useless for me to lay under the blankets, so I laid on top of the comforter most of the time, periodically looking out the window. I was distracted a lot of the time too; it was hard not to be. I would find myself staring into nothingness on too many occasions.

  Malcolm and Carrie owned a small farm in the middle of nowhere, just for personal use mostly. Three cows roamed the fields that they used for beef in the winter, and they always gave the extra to their neighbors. A few dogs roamed around too, but other than that it was quiet. Carrie had a huge garden behind the barn that West tried to describe to me, and Malcolm had a field of corn that he harvested every year for his cows, with his neighbors help, dealing they received half of it.

  West didn’t talk much about outside, probably because he knew it dampened my mood when he did. I tried not to show it, but he was getting too good at reading me.

  “You don’t like this movie, do you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I do.” I really didn’t.

  “Uh . . . no you don’t.”

  I stole a glance over at West who was sitting in his regular chair next to my bed. His feet were propped up and his arms were crossed in a relaxed position across his chest. His gaze never shifted from the screen. At least one of us liked it.

  I sighed. “Okay, I don’t. It’s not horrible. The acting just sucks.”

  “Yes, the acting does indeed suck,” West agreed. “But if you ignore that and focus on the high points, it’s not so bad.”

  I looked back at the flashing screen before me. “The high points? You mean the fake exploding cars, high speed chases, and unrealistic knife fights?”

  “No, the awesome exploding cars, mind-blowing high speed chases, and . . . ” he took a moment to think about it, “the almost unrealistic knife fights.”

  I smiled.

  Looking at West sitting there—watching the horribly fake movie—reminded me of Ethan. I missed him so much it hurt. A tear rolled down my cheek, one of many that were threatening to come out and pour down my face. I quickly wiped it away, hoping West hadn’t noticed.

  He glanced sideways when I did but I just stared ahead, acting like nothing had happened. I looked out the window, watching the birds hopping on the nearby branches, and tried to take my mind off Ethan so my tears would disappear. It was becoming harder and harder to think about my family.

  The movie suddenly
turned off, leaving the room in a loud silence, and the bed shifted as West sat on the edge of the mattress next to me.

  “Can I show you something?” he asked.

  I turned to face him. His eyes were so bright that I stared into them for a moment, not strong enough to pull my gaze away.

  “What is it?”

  He smiled his brilliant smile. “It’s outside.”

  I huffed a laugh. “Very funny, genius.”

  Before I could react West put his arms under me, scooping me into them in one swift motion. My face felt warm from feeling his hard muscles underneath me, and he smiled at my reaction, like he knew what I was thinking. I wrapped my arms around his neck.

  My knee ached but it was bearable.

  “Does it hurt?” West whispered into my ear.

  I shook my head softly. “No.” I wouldn’t let my knee ruin this moment, even if it did hurt. “Where are we going?”

  He just gave a small smile and carried me out the door.

  I still hadn’t seen much of the house, but as we got closer to the door, I stopped him near the entry way. It was an old house, and had its wear and tear, but something caught my eye. They were initials cut into the wood of the archway into the hallway.

  J.W.

  M.K.

  The small letters looked like they had been there forever. But they also looked like they belonged there, like the house was made around them.

  “I asked Carrie about those, you know,” West said.

  “What did she say?”

  “She said they’ve been there even before the owner before her had it. She asked them before they bought the house.”

  “It’s weird . . . ” I said.

  “What is?”

  “They’re my grandparent’s initials. Well . . . throw in a few greats before grandparents, but they’re somewhere down the line. We had to learn about our relatives who lived through the Fall in school once. It was a week long project.”

  “Do you think that’s them?”

  I shook my head. “Probably not, but wouldn’t it be weird if it was?”