Dex

by Claflin, Stacy

  None of them paid any attention to each other or Dex. A few had turned his way but hadn’t reacted to him poking his head around the door.

  He held his breath and tried to make sense of the scene. It was eerily similar to the monsters from the other building, except these people were clearly not wanderers.

  Or were they?

  Images of the little girl flashed through his mind. She hadn’t been any different from these people, other than the fact that no children wandered the room in front of him.

  What if she had escaped from this place? It wouldn’t have taken her long to get there. A couple days, tops, just wandering aimlessly.

  Could there be more kids somewhere in the hospital?

  Inside the room, a young woman who couldn’t have been much younger than him turned and stared at Dex. She had long, straight blonde hair nearly to her waist and her gown, unlike the others, had a ruffle at the bottom. A man walked into her, but otherwise paid her no attention and meandered away. She didn’t seem to notice him, either. Instead, she tilted her head slightly to the right and kept her gaze focused on Dex.

  Dex stared at her, too, unable to move. Was she human or monster?

  She took a step toward him. Then another.

  Chapter 14

  Dex’s mind yelled at him to run, but his feet remained firmly planted in place. The woman strode toward him, her hips swaying and her bare feet kicking up dust with each step. Her gaze held, locked onto him.

  He studied her, heart thundering so hard it felt like it would burst through his chest. Was she an immunized wanderer who could rip him to shreds or turn him with just a bite? Or was she human, slow and confused from what could’ve been a lifetime of confinement?

  She stopped only a few inches from him, wordlessly looking him over from head to foot. Her bright green eyes weren’t hollow like the little girl’s had been, but they didn’t hold the same light that most people had, either.

  Dex took a deep breath and stepped out from behind the door. Nobody in the room had noticed her leaving. She pulled some hair behind her ear and continued her study of him, her gaze finally landing on his eyes.

  He swallowed and relaxed his hold on the bow. “I’m Dex.”

  “Dex.”

  His mouth gaped. She spoke. Did she understand?

  “Dex.” She reached for him in slow motion.

  Terror shot through him, but he didn’t move. Her fingernails were clean and cut low. She smelled of soap and not death.

  The young woman ran her fingers over Dex’s beard. “Soft.”

  “Wh-what’s your name?”

  She tilted her head again. “Name?”

  How much did she understand? “Do you have a name? What do they call you?”

  “Five-Sixty-Four.”

  Maybe she didn’t understand the question. Or nobody called her anything. “I’m Dex. Who are you?”

  She ran her fingers down to his shoulder and then pressed her palm on his chest. “Dex.”

  He swallowed again. “Right. I’m Dex. Who are you?”

  “Five-Sixty-Four.” She ran her palm across his chest lengthwise, then down and across again.

  Dex’s heart jumped into his throat. “That’s your name?”

  “Five-Sixty-Four.” She continued running her palm over him until she’d explored the whole of his torso, then she pulled her hand away.

  His pulse raced through his body, but in a way that was different than anything he’d experienced before. Instead of fear, he craved more of her contact. Nobody had touched him without aggression since the day he’d walked away from his family and community.

  He reached for her arm. “Can I?”

  She tilted her head the other way, took his hand in hers, and rubbed his palm. A wave of heat ran down Dex’s spine and through his chest. Her skin was so smooth and warm.

  Wanderers were always cooler than him.

  She let go of his hand and guided it to her shoulder. Dex couldn’t get over how soft and warm she was. He reached for her face and caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. She stared into his eyes the whole time and her mouth gaped.

  He pulled his hand away. She grabbed it and placed it back against her skin. “I like.”

  Dex swallowed, his insides tingling. “So do I.” He glanced around, but nobody paid them any attention. Then he pulled some loose hair—it was unbelievably silky—away from her face and behind her ear. His stomach twisted in tight knots. “I should go.”

  Really, he needed to. The beautiful young woman was too much of a distraction. He needed to make more arrows, and now he knew the people in the room weren’t a threat, so he could do that. Then he could protect himself while making his way back to his family.

  “I go with you.”

  Dex’s eyes widened.

  “You nice.”

  “I—”

  “And soft.” She ran her fingers across his beard.

  He struggled to find his voice. “So are you.”

  “I come?”

  His mind raced. What if someone discovered she was missing? Would the people inside turn on him? If not them, then maybe the men in white coats. There could be a lot more of them than he’d seen in the other building.

  “I come?” She raked her fingers through his hair.

  “Okay.” The words came without thought.

  Her eyes lit up. “I come?”

  What had he just agreed to? She would get killed out there. Moreover, she could get them both killed.

  She tilted her head again and bit her lower lip.

  On the other hand, maybe she could help him make his arrows. Then he could safely return her to the room full of her peers. “Okay.”

  The corners of her mouth curved upward. “I go.”

  Dex nodded, held her hand, and led her down the hallway, helping her to step over debris. He picked up each piece of broken wood along the way. Her face flushed with excitement and she grabbed some random trash. Wanderers certainly wouldn’t do that.

  What was she? Something—no, someone—halfway between? Or just an overly-sheltered human? Though he couldn’t imagine any human meandering in that room like a wanderer. Not unless it was simply a cover in order to survive. He glanced over at her gathering stuffing from a chair and tried to put the pieces together. Maybe if he asked the right questions, he would be able to fill in the missing details.

  Footsteps sounded down the hallway from the direction they’d come.

  “Hurry.” He pulled on her arm, and she rose. They ducked into the nearest room, which was an office. The odor inside turned his stomach. Dex peeked out, and not seeing anyone, he closed the door shut just to be safe.

  Behind the door stood a wanderer with gray skin, its intestines hanging out. Dex nearly dropped his armful of wood. He opened the door and bashed it against the monster. It hit with a thump and sloshed. Red and orange liquid spattered out.

  “Come on.” Dex tugged on Five-Sixty-Four and led her back out into the hallway, which was luckily still empty. However, masculine conversation sounded down toward the room of meandering, pajama-clad people. “We need to get away.”

  He glanced down the hallway again.

  “This way,” he whispered and led her toward the stairs. They managed to get down to the main level without drawing any attention to themselves. She kept up better than he expected and dropped what she had in her other hand, which was only shreds of cotton.

  He paused at the bottom of the steps and listened for footsteps overhead.

  She turned to him. “What—?”

  Dex put his finger to his mouth.

  She copied the gesture, but her brows came together in confusion.

  Everything was silent above. Nobody had followed them. Not yet, anyway.

  He threaded his fingers through hers and led her down the hall and to the first room, an office. “Wait out here.”

  “Here.”

  Dex nodded and peeked inside the office, checking behind the door and under the desk before g
oing back into the hallway. She hadn’t moved. He waved her inside.

  She waved back.

  He grabbed her hand and guided her inside before closing the door and setting his pile of wood on a counter.

  “Come over here. I want to show you something.”

  She stared at something on the desk, apparently not hearing Dex.

  “I need your help with something.”

  Still no response.

  “Five-Sixty-Four.”

  She spun around slowly and met his gaze.

  Sadness washed over him that she only responded to a number. “Do you have a name?”

  “Five-Sixty-Four.”

  “No, I mean a real name. Not a number. Like, I’m Dex.”

  She just blinked.

  “Has anyone called you anything other than Five-Sixty-Four?”

  “No.” She picked up a picture frame.

  “We need to come up with something. You need an actual name.”

  “Bad man.”

  “No, that’s not a name. Something like—”

  “Bad man,” she repeated.

  “That’s not a name.”

  “Bad man!” She turned the frame around and showed Dex. It was a photograph of a guy in a white coat like the others he’d seen. “Bad man!”

  “That’s why we need to make the—”

  “Bad man!” Her voice grew louder each time she said that. “Bad man!”

  If she kept that up, every monster and human in the building would hear them.

  Chapter 15

  Dex took the picture frame and put it on the counter upside down. “The bad man is gone.”

  She stared at him, breathing hard and her eyes wild, but at least didn’t say anything.

  “He’s gone,” Dex repeated, trying to stay calm. “Are you okay?”

  “Okay.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “We have to stay quiet, or someone might find us. Now about getting you a name. Do you have a name you like?”

  “Five-Sixty-Four.”

  “That’s a number. What about…” He searched his memory for a good name until he came to the name of a girl he’d grown up with. “Clover?”

  “Clover a plant.”

  “Plants can be names. Lily, Rose, Ivy—” He froze. Daisy. Like the flower left near his head on the pillow. But that was crazy. This girl couldn’t be capable of getting over to the other building on her own. She barely seemed able to walk and couldn’t form a complete sentence.

  “I Five-Sixty-Four.” Her green eyes held a determination in them that invoked curiosity from Dex.

  Dex took a deep breath. “That’s not a name.”

  “My name.”

  “You deserve better. Just think about it, okay?”

  “Think. Okay.”

  “Let me show you how I carve the arrows. If we make enough, they’ll keep us safe.”

  “Safe.”

  He pulled out his smallest knife. Hopefully she could handle it, or he’d have to think of another job for her. Maybe attaching the pieces. She watched with marked interest as Dex shaped the weapon. “Do you want to try?”

  “Try.” She nodded.

  “You have to be careful. This is sharp.” He ran his nail along the edge of the blade.

  “Careful. Sharp. Yes.”

  He handed her a small piece of wood and the knife. “Practice on this.”

  She took both, sat cross-legged on the floor, and began carving. In a matter of minutes, she had a perfectly carved arrow—and she hadn’t even come close to nicking herself.

  Dex’s mouth dropped open. “How did you do that?”

  “Carved it.”

  “Looks like you know what you’re doing.” He grabbed the rest of the pile, sat next to her, and put the wood between them.

  She made five in the time he made six.

  “Have you done this before?”

  “No.”

  He picked up the arrow and studied it. There wasn’t a single flaw. “You’re amazing.”

  “Five-Sixty-Four?”

  “Yeah, but you really need a name. A number isn’t special. Can I call you… Lucy?”

  She tilted her head slightly. “Lucy?”

  A knot formed in his throat. “It was my mom’s name.”

  “Mom?”

  “You don’t know what a mom is?”

  She shook her head no.

  “A mom is someone who always loves you and always wants the best for you. She’ll take care of you no matter what, even if she’s sick and tired.”

  “Lucy?” She bit her lip, looking deep in thought.

  Dex nodded.

  “I like.”

  “So do I. It fits you.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched upward again. “Lucy.”

  He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Let me show you how to finish these arrows.”

  Lucy folded her hands and held his gaze. The intensity of her expression threw him off guard for a moment, but then he showed her how to carve the rest and put them together. Before long, Dex’s quiver was fuller than it had been in a long time.

  She handed him the knife.

  He didn’t take it. “You keep it.”

  “Why?”

  “You need protection.”

  “Protection?”

  “From the bad men.”

  Her eyes widened. “Bad men!”

  Dex covered her mouth with his palm and brought a finger to his mouth. “We have to stay quiet to hide from them.”

  “Oh.” She nodded.

  His stomach rumbled. “Let’s get some berries. Are you hungry?”

  “Hungry. Yes.”

  They rose. Dex dusted off his pants. Lucy stared at her knife. She had nowhere to store it in the lightweight pajama gown.

  “Maybe I should hold onto…” His voice trailed off as he noticed a white coat hanging on a hook in the wall. Would Lucy wear that, or would she start yelling about the bad men again?

  He walked over to the coat and held it up. Lucy’s eyes widened, but she said nothing.

  “Will you wear this?”

  She glanced back and forth between Dex and the jacket, still remaining silent. At least she wasn’t yelling.

  “Try it on.” He went back over to her and held it out.

  Lucy eyed it with suspicion.

  “Do you trust me?”

  She nodded and held out an arm. Dex slid the jacket on, his fingers grazing her soft skin. His heart fluttered, but he ignored it and helped her into the other arm. It fit her like a tent but would work. He pointed to the front pocket and she dropped the knife in.

  Relief washed through him. “Let’s get some food.”

  “Food. Yes.”

  Dex opened the door and peeked out into the hall. It was just as empty as it had been earlier. “Let’s go.”

  Lucy followed him out of the room and headed toward the stairs.

  “This way.” Dex gestured toward the building’s entrance.

  “Food.” She turned toward the stairs.

  “I found berries out this way.”

  “Dinner upstairs.”

  He needed to think of a way to convince her to come with him. “You want to go where the bad men are?”

  “No. Dinner.”

  Dex took a deep breath. “I’m going outside for the berries. Are you coming with me? We can get away from the bad men.”

  “Food people nice.”

  He hesitated. The last place he wanted to go was back upstairs. If they ran into any white-coats, he might be forced to leave Lucy there. With each minute he spent with her, he found himself more drawn to the idea of bringing her and protecting her.

  “Bad men gone at dinner.” Lucy took his hand and tugged toward the stairs.

  Dex’s stomach growled. What if there were actual meals available—dishes similar to what his mom used to make? If they looked, worst case scenario, they would run from the men in white jackets and still gather berries. It wasn’t like the bushes were going anywhere.


  “Okay.”

  Her eyes lit up, and she led him up the stairs with a bounce to her step. He followed, listening for any noise. Everything was quiet. They made it to the hallway and walked toward the room with all the wandering people and turned down the hall. Dex’s nose tickled when a delicious aroma came down the hallway.

  The mouthwatering scent grew stronger until they reached another large room, this one filled with clean, upright round tables and several chairs pushed into each one. Fifty people could sit in there comfortably. Thankfully, nobody sat there now.

  Lucy pulled him through the sparkling room through a smaller door. They came to the largest kitchen Dex had ever seen, and to the source of the scents. Steaming pots and pans lined one counter, yet nobody was in the room. Lucy squeezed his hand. “Dinner.”

  How could he say no to that? It was worth the risk. “Okay.”

  She let go of his hand and lifted the lid from a pot. A gush of steam escaped. Dex went over. The pot was filled nearly to the top with a stew. It was like his mom used to make, only so much more.

  Lucy handed him a ladle and picked one up for herself. They dug in. The savory meal burned Dex’s tongue, but he didn’t care. The hot meal also meant that people had to be nearby. Whoever had made it would be back to feed someone—probably the people in the room where Lucy had been. And they wouldn’t be happy to see Dex there with Lucy, scarfing down the stew.

  But he didn’t care. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten so well. This made yesterday’s fish seem like nothing. He scooped as much into his mouth as he could manage.

  Footsteps and voices sounded from the bigger room.

  Chapter 16

  Dex froze mid-bite and met Lucy’s gaze. Both the footsteps and the conversation grew louder. Closer.

  Lucy grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the back of the kitchen.

  “I sure hope you know an escape route.”

  She pulled him into a dark coat closet. He felt around, making sure no wanderers were hiding out in there. It appeared to be just clothes. They pressed themselves against the back wall and pulled jackets in front of them.