"Sit, boy." She gestured to the bed. "Ain't nobody around to hear us. They never bother guarding this floor beyond the post at the stairwell."
I sat as commanded, but I was still unsure what Helen was getting at. My heart began to speed up as thoughts flew around in my head. Did she know of a way to escape?
"There's men here like Russell, and then there's men here like Tristan." She started. "But ain't no one of them like Reed. Thank the stars for that because that man is evil. It hides under his skin and festers like rot. You don't want to be around when it boils to the surface."
Frowning, I leaned away from her. This was the last thing I expected to hear. The memory of Russell threatening us, trying to kill us, and the throbbing pain in my shoulder had me arguing. "Russell's evil."
"Russell's evil, but it's on the surface." She answered, waving my comment away with her boney hands. You see it coming with that one and know when to back off. At least most of us do anyway. Sounds like your sister had a bit of trouble with that." Her gray eyes were wide as she stared at me earnestly now, and after a moment I realized she was waiting for me to speak.
"Ali's a fighter. I think she'd rather die before she let him touch her." I said, feeling pride for a brief moment before the worry seeped back in.
"But would she die before she let someone touch you?" The earnest look was still on Helen's face, aiding her words. Finally, what she was getting at began to sink in. They would use me to get to her. My stomach roiled and I slumped on the bed, knowing it was true. She was as helpless down there as I was up here, and there was nothing I could do about it.
My mouth had gone completely dry when another thought hit me. If they could use me to make Ali do things, wouldn't they use Ali against me too? What kind of things would they make me do?
"When Tristan and Gwen got here, Gwen was pregnant." Helen's voice broke into my thoughts. "She got sent up here right away and they kept Tristan away from her until they got him under control. She lost that baby though, and he didn't even find out until weeks later."
Helen was shaking her head in what seemed to be disgust. She continued, "When Tristan finally calmed down, he was rewarded with visits from Gwen, and they finally put him on regular guard duty up here once she got pregnant again. Tristan behaves now, but he hasn't forgotten. There are other men down there that haven't forgotten either."
I was staring at the floral patterns on the bedspread and absently said, "I won't forget."
"That's good, boy." She said as she leaned back in her chair, relaxing again as if that was the end of the serious conversation. "When the time comes, we'll need you to remember."
"How many..." I started, but then trailed off as I picked a loose thread in the sheets. "What about Mick?"
"Bah," She spat, "Another useless piece of meat. Brutal like Russell, but not much thinking going on up here." She tapped her temple.
I swallowed, wondering how she would take what I was about to tell her. "Mick is dead."
She blinked at me, her gray eyes wide as she leaned forward again. "What?"
"Ali killed him when they caught us. And someone else. I think Russell said his name was Ben?" I watched her reaction as her wrinkled face scrunched up a frown, and she stared into a far distant place in her mind, lost in thought momentarily.
"Help me up." She commanded as she struggled to stand. I jumped to help her, easily pulling her frail body from the chair. When she was on her feet, she paused, turning to me with a perplexed look on her face. "Why did they even let the two of you live?"
I blinked many times, shaking my head nervously in answer. I knew why, but didn't want to tell her. She squinted at me suspiciously for a long moment, but didn't press. "Well, whatever the reason, maybe it's something we can use to our advantage. Be a good boy and help me get back to Tristan."
~ ~ ~ ~
I escorted Helen back to the stairwell. Tristan and Gwen were still there with their baby, although Gwen was now nursing the infant. I blinked and turned away quickly, embarrassed.
"Thank you, boy." Helen said to me as she let go of my arm to reach for the wall. It was a dismissal, and she didn't look back as she left me standing there. I awkwardly clutched the blanket around my shoulders and shifted on my feet as I watched her hustle the few feet to Tristan. He gave her a curious look as she approached.
Her voice was a low, a gruff whisper, yet I was able to make out every word she said. "Our new friend Joss said he may have overheard a thinning of your ranks?"
Tristan blinked, breaking eye contact with Helen to glance at me still standing at the end of the hall. I shifted nervously under his stare, but his attention was back on Helen soon enough. "What have you heard?"
"You're not going to make an old woman bend down, now are ya?" She snapped, loud enough for anyone to hear without straining. Tristan's thin lips twisted in a wry smile as he pulled himself up against the wall. He towered over her and had to hunch over before Helen was satisfied.
Helen questioned him in hushed tones. I would have been able to hear her if not for the opening of a door across the hall. Stephanie's dark eyes peeked out and she looked at me curiously. My eyes shot nervously to Tristan and Helen before I could stop myself. Tristan was nodding, his expression grave, while Helen continued to rattle in his ear. I looked back to Stephanie and tried to hide my guilt. I had been caught eavesdropping.
Stephanie leaned her head out into the hallway, seeing the two deep in conversation, and turned a smile back to me. "So you've met Helen now?"
I nodded, making a half-hearted effort to return the smile. Letting my eyes drift to the floor, I strained to hear Helen's words and hoped Stephanie wouldn't notice.
"She's the spark." A small snippet of Helen's words rose in the short silence. "You make sure Ryan knows I said that."
"Yes, ma'am." Tristan answered. Again, my eyes shot up in time to see Tristan nodding, this time in agreement. I returned my gaze to Stephanie. A frown was threatening to take over her expression when Helen's voice crackled down the hall.
"You still here, boy?" I jumped at her harshness, feeling my eyes go wide. Stephanie pulled back deeper into her room before Helen could notice her. She was smirking, clearly amused, and it left me feeling like I'd missed the punch line of a joke. Helen continued as she hobbled to me. "Well, get me back to my room before they send that old hag up for the dirty dishes."
"Yes, ma'am." I echoed Tristan from earlier and rushed to her so her boney hand could dig into my arm again. As I helped her down the hall, I leaned close to her so she could hear my whisper. At least the old woman didn't seem hard of hearing.
"Mona isn't one of the good ones?"
"Don't trust her." She said bluntly, matching my volume. "Don't know what deal she's got worked with them down there to have as much freedom as she does. Don't trust that tramp Crystal none either."
I nodded, satisfied with her response. I had no idea who to trust or what was really going on here, but I liked Helen. I wanted to trust her. I considered Ali for a moment and wondered how she was handling her situation downstairs. Hopefully she had met one of the good ones, but I knew it wouldn't matter. She would never trust them anyway.
Helen clung to me as we walked down her short, dark hallway into her room. I jumped as she exclaimed loudly, startling me. "There you are! My little helper."
My eyes shot to the bed where a boy with thick, dark brown hair was curled up on the bed with some crayons and a coloring book. His eyes, also a deep brown, were glued to me as Helen left my side to make her way to a fluffy recliner setting by the window.
"Charles, this is Joss." She presented me with a quick wave of her hand as she collapsed in the old chair. It practically swallowed her.
Helen's room was different. One double bed was pushed into the corner while a sofa and coffee table took the place of where the second bed would have been. There was a nice table and chair instead of the standard desk, and one fancy dresser in place of the normal one. It stood upright with doors as well a
s drawers.
My eyes finished scanning the room and fell back on Helen, who was watching me intently. She was taking in my every move, and I was suddenly fidgety under her judging eyes. Turning my attention back to the boy, I offered him a smile.
"Hello." I said as he watched me for a few more seconds. Then he turned back to his book without a word, ignoring me.
Helen spoke for him. "Charles doesn't talk much. You can't let that bother you. He's useful though." She looked at him, a playful smirk on her wrinkled face. "Joss will be living in a room near the haunted hall."
Charles rolled his eyes and chose another crayon, ignoring Helen as completely as he ignored me. Helen broke out into a wheezy cackle, and I couldn't deny the smile that tugged at my lips. Although it was fleeting, the lighter mood helped ease away a small portion of worry.
"Charles, why don't you take Joss to the supply room? Won't do to have that bloody shirt around the children." I glanced down in surprise at Helen's words. Lifting the blanket, I saw that bright red spots of blood had soaked through from my wound. It wasn't much, but I wasn't going to argue her point.
Helen reached down and flipped out the leg-rest of her chair, reclining back. "I need a nap after all that walking."
Charles swept up his handful of crayons in one smooth motion and rolled off the bed to his feet. He headed for the door, his dark eyes resting on mine until he passed me. He paused in the hallway to make sure I followed. Glancing at Helen to see her eyes shut, I spun and quickly exited the room. Something told me I didn't want to chance making her angry.
Once I was in the hall again, Charles took off, his determined steps leading us to the supply room. We passed by Stephanie at her doorway and I awkwardly pulled the blanket tightly around my shoulders as I walked past her, offering a quick apologetic smile. She fell into step behind us without a word.
Charles led me to yet another room, this one devoid of beds. Instead, it was full of dressers pressed against the walls and lined up in uneven rows down the middle of the room. Most were labeled; some saying baby girl and others baby boy. Another simply read toddler.
I stared in wonder for a moment until Charles pointed at one of the far dressers that read shirts. Then he found a clear spot and hoisted himself up to watch me. His crayons sat beside him, forgotten, and his feet dangled against the drawers.
It felt odd going through the clothes while being watched, so I grabbed the first t-shirt that was close to my size. I found an old gray fruit-of-the-loom shirt that would work perfectly. I was planning to go back to my room, but as I turned around I found Stephanie blocking my path.
"Do you need help changing your bandages? I think Anna has some stored away over here." She turned to one of the first dressers and only had to rummage around for a second before she produced a small pack of pads and gauze. "I can help."
I rolled my shoulder to test the pain and the soreness bit back. I grimaced. It didn't go unnoticed, and Stephanie pursed her lips as she waited for an answer. Charles was just staring at me, offering no advice on the situation, so I finally uttered, "I guess so."
Stephanie approved my decision with her nod and gathered even more bandages from the dresser. When she caught my look, she shrugged. "You'll be needing them."
Charles slid from his perch and raced from the room. Stephanie motioned for me to follow him, but by the time I made it to the hallway, he was gone. Stephanie pushed past me, ignoring the confused look I gave her. "Don't worry. He'll be back."
The heat of embarrassment rose in my cheeks. As I followed Stephanie, the thought of being alone with her in my room, shirtless while she tended to my wounds, unnerved me. I was too shy to say anything against it, but I kept sneaking glances down the hall, hoping the boy would return.
Stephanie was already to my room, and my stomach twisted in knots as I turned to follow. At the last second, I caught a glimpse of Charles leaving Anna's room, burdened by a heavy bucket. A swell of relief rushed through me.
Stephanie immediately directed me to the chair, and I obeyed. She dumped her pile of bandages on the desk and began to sort through it, setting some aside and putting the rest away in a dresser drawer. Charles entered, the bucket he carried sloshed water around as he hefted it up to the desk. Then he went to the window, opening it to let a cool breeze into the room.
In the moment of silence that followed, I tried to make sense of the odd kid. Helen didn't seem to have a problem with him. Neither did Stephanie for that matter. Judging by his age, I knew he had to have been young when the outbreak started and probably didn't remember much of the way the world was before. Thinking about that made me sad, but maybe this way he didn't know what he was missing.
Since I was lost in thought, making up a history for Charles that probably didn't come close to the truth, Stephanie's light brush against my back caught me off guard and I jumped. Her giggle that followed sounded nervous as she said, "I'll try not to hurt you."
"Do you do this a lot?" I asked after a few seconds, hoping the conversation would help ease my jumpy mood.
"For the kids, yeah. They're always getting bumps and bruises." Her fingers gingerly pulled the blanket from my shoulder to expose my stained shirt. She exhaled loudly as she added, "Nothing like this."
I looked down at the splotchy red stains and wondered what my back looked like. I craned my neck to see in the mirror, but Stephanie's hand on my shoulder stopped me.
"You don't want to make it any worse. You bled through pretty bad on this side." She flung the blanket to the ground. "We'll have to wash that up too."
"It doesn't hurt much at least." I replied as I shifted in my seat and clumsily pulled at my shirt. I had to get creative, but with Stephanie's help, I managed the task without much pain. Charles continued to stare, able to see my back in the mirror. I was jealous. I realized now he was probably curious to see what a bullet wound looked like.
"Well." She huffed, "Don't be brave. Let me know if I hurt you."
"Okay," I replied, and she started to pick at the tape holding the bandages on. As soon as she got the end released and started to unwind them, I shrugged my shoulder and they fell away. She gasped, and Charles rose to his knees on the bed to get a better vantage point.
I cringed as I looked down and saw all the dried blood stuck to my skin. I couldn't even tell where the wound was, it was such a mess. Charles had a look of awe on his face, and Stephanie wore a determined frown as she pulled a rag from the bucket, splashing water around as she rung it out.
Starting on my back first, she gently swabbed the wet cloth over my skin and then rinsed it in the bucket. The water was cool, not cold, and although I got goose bumps when she first touched me, it was actually quite soothing. This was also when I realized the stitches in my back itched.
"It's a mess." She finally said. "It looks pretty red, too."
She dropped the cloth in the bucket and began to poke around until I winced. That actually got a snicker out of Charles. I frowned at him as Stephanie apologized.
"I'm sorry." She said quickly as her hands pulled away. "It doesn't look infected, I don't think."
"Do you know what an infection looks like?" I asked, unsure myself.
"No."
I frowned again.
Stephanie moved to tend to the wound on my chest, and if I thought I was nervous before, I was wrong. Butterflies churned in my stomach as I stared down at her protruding belly, watching it sway in front of me as she cleaned the blood away. The uncomfortable silence spread, and she quickened her pace.
I was practically holding my breath by the time she was taping clean bandages on. Then, soon enough, she was helping me into my new clean shirt.
"Don't ruin that one too, okay?" She said as she backed away. A kind smile grew on her face that actually made it to her eyes. It was easy to smile back. She bundled the stained shirt and old bandages into the blanket, then motioned for Charles to grab the bucket. "Come on. Joss needs to rest. We'll visit again tomorrow."
With one
last smile at me before she turned away, the two of them left. I stared around my quiet room, suddenly scared to be alone. The memories of the previous night and the realization of how trapped I was overcame me. Eventually, even the tears came, and I curled up on the bed, struggling to find a comfortable position. I was thankful when sleep came, even though the sun was still halfway across the sky.
~ ~ ~ ~
When I woke to my dimly lit room, I wasn't sure if I'd slept until dusk or if I'd made it through the whole night until dawn. Roughly fifteen minutes later and I was sure I'd slept over half a day. I could hear nothing from outside my room, so I restlessly paced the floor. It helped to work the stiffness out of my body, and I tested the limitations of my wound. It felt like I was getting better.
Worry was eating at me, so at the first hint of children's laughter, I fled my room and was thankful for the distraction. A few steps into the hallway and I almost stumbled as the thought crossed my mind that Russell could be on guard duty today.
My eyes shot down the length of the long hall. I audibly sighed with relief, thankful no one was in earshot to hear it. The figure at the end of the hallway was most definitely not Russell. Russell had close-cropped graying hair, and this man had straight black hair. I continued. As I got closer, I realized this was the same man that had greeted Breck and me the day before.
Sally.
Breck had called him Sally, an odd name for a man, but one of the lesser mysteries I was facing in this hotel. By the time I had reached the elevator lobby, he had noticed me and offered me a smile and a wave. I returned the wave, unsure of what else I should do, and quickly shrank back down into the chair I had used before.
The kids must have been playing in one of the rooms because the hallway was vacant except for Sally. After waiting for what felt like hours, I was contemplating going back to my room again when Mona arrived with the food, escorted by Tristan and another man.
The Phoenix Curse (Book 2): After Page 13
