The Blood Will Dry

Home > Other > The Blood Will Dry > Page 6
The Blood Will Dry Page 6

by Mary, Kate L.


  “She didn’t ask me to do anything but be her friend,” Daisy replied as she forced me to turn away from Bryan. When we were almost to the stairs she hissed, “You owe me big time.”

  I waved her off. “You go screw Tyler. I’ll be okay.”

  The sigh Daisy let out said she didn’t believe me.

  Five minutes in the shower was all I got, and after last night I needed it more than ever. Before the invasion I would have been rushed to get in and out of the shower in five minutes, but these days things were simpler, and my only real regret was that unless we got some heavy rain it would be two weeks before I got another turn.

  I’d woken up covered in sweat that smelled a little too much like alcohol, with a head that felt like it had been used as a punching bag. I barely remembered much after downing the moonshine, but I now knew that my body couldn’t take the hard stuff. Not when my calories were so limited.

  Thankfully, it was my shower day, so I’d rolled out of bed with my thoughts focused on only one thing: getting clean.

  There was a time when the air in a locker room would have been thick with humidity from the constantly running showers, but not anymore. These days the air was damp, but not warm—mainly because the water running through these pipes was room temperature. I would have been lying if I’d said I didn’t miss taking a hot shower, but I had also accepted years ago that I had to learn to be satisfied with what I got. In this case, it was water that didn’t make me shiver. All in all, it wasn’t a bad deal.

  The bathroom tiles were cold against my bare feet when I pulled my socks off. I shoved them in my boots before stepping into the stall. The shower curtain was grimy to the touch when I yanked it closed. It was only soap scum that had built up over the years, or at least that’s what I told myself. I did my best not to acknowledge the black stuff that grew in the creases of the curtain and corners of the shower, because there wasn’t really anything I could do about it and I wanted a shower more than I wanted to avoid mold.

  “Timer’s going!” Alvarez yelled less than a second after I’d pulled the shower curtain closed.

  I rolled my eyes as I ripped my shirt over my head and hung it on a hook. “I’m not even naked yet!”

  He snorted. “Tell me when to start it.”

  “That’s right I’ll tell you when to start it,” I muttered as I stripped the rest of my clothes off.

  There was a system to follow when it came to showers. First you had to make sure Alvarez, the shower Nazi as we called him, didn’t screw you on time. Second, you didn’t turn the water on until you were totally naked and standing directly under the showerhead because it would not only waste water, but also allow precious seconds of shower time to slip down the drain—literally in this case.

  I wasn’t a rookie, so I knew all these things, which was why I found myself standing under the showerhead totally naked with no water running when Bryan burst through the curtain.

  “Diana, I—”

  “Get the hell out!” I yelled, crossing my arms over my chest in a futile attempt to cover myself. When that didn’t work, I turned my back to him and screamed over my shoulder, “Alvarez! What the hell? Are you falling asleep on the job out there?”

  He burst through the curtain, all two hundred and fifty pounds of him, and I swore again. “Man, you must have stumbled into the wrong place because I know you didn’t just barge in like this.”

  Bryan, who had frozen when he realized that I was naked, lifted his hands and stepped back. “Shit. I’m sorry. I just wanted to talk.”

  Alvarez grabbed him by the collar and hauled him toward the curtain. “Talk my ass. I’ll let you talk to my fist, you perverted son of a bitch.”

  He wasn’t exaggerating and I knew it. It was one of the reasons we all put up with his strict shower regulations. Alvarez ruled with an iron fist and he was very particular about what went on in the shower. No monkey business and absolutely no peeping Tom’s.

  “Shit, she’s my sister,” Bryan said as Alvarez shoved the curtain aside and dragged him out. “I just wanted—”

  “First of all, that’s a load of bullshit,” I heard Alvarez growl from the other room. “I’ve known Diana for years and I know she doesn’t have a brother. Second, you go into your sister’s shower? What kind of sick asshole are you?”

  “No. Of course not. Diana, shit.” Feet scuffed against the wet tile and I knew Bryan was fighting against Alvarez as he was dragged across the room. “Tell him, Diana!”

  I didn’t want to feel bad for him. He’d been stalking me since he got here and all I wanted at this point was for him and his platoon to get the hell out of my life and never come back. But I knew Alvarez was going to beat the shit out of him and that didn’t seem fair. Bryan wanted to talk and I had promised him, after all.

  “Shit,” I muttered as I swiped my clothes off the hook and started to redress.

  I was about to walk away from my shower knowing that I might not get another chance for a week—or more. Bryan better kiss my ass after this.

  “Alvarez,” I said, pulling my shirt over my head. “Wait!”

  I’d barely gotten my shirt on when I pushed the shower curtain out of my way and hurried out. Alvarez had Bryan sitting on a bench and was scowling down at him like all he wanted to do was turn his face into a bloody pulp.

  “You know this guy?” he asked doubtfully.

  I nodded and then shook my head. “Kind of. We have a connection. From the past.”

  Alvarez’s expression relaxed and the pity I saw in his eyes made me wish I’d stayed in the shower. He’d had a brief fling with Daisy last year, the longest one of her post-alien invasion life, and I’d always suspected that she’d let things about me slip during pillow talk. The look on his face right now confirmed it, especially when his gaze moved to my left hand. I had the urge to hide it behind my back, but I didn’t because it was pointless. He knew I wore a ring and he knew I never took it off.

  Alvarez looked back at Bryan.

  “I just want to talk,” my brother-in-law said, lifting his hands.

  “That okay with you?” the beefy man in front of me asked.

  I let out a deep breath before I was able to get the word out. “It is.”

  “Alright then.” Alvarez snorted. “You know you’re giving up your shower time?”

  “I know.”

  I shot Bryan a glare. His eyes were big and his mouth open, and I could tell he felt like shit about it but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook. Not that easily. He could have waited outside the locker room and jumped me on my way out, but instead he’d decided to barge in and corner me. While I was naked.

  “I’ll put you on the schedule,” Alvarez said.

  “Thanks.”

  I stormed out of the room and heard Bryan scurry after me. He didn’t look like the type of person who would scurry. Not before when he’d been a cocky asshole of a teenager who’d thought his shit didn’t stink and not now either. Although what he was now I wasn’t sure, other than a solider in a platoon that was determined to find a weakness in the aliens’ defenses. As if there was such a thing.

  The main floor was bursting with life and there was no way in hell I wanted to do this here, so I headed for the stairs.

  “Where are you going?” Bryan called from behind me.

  “Up.” It was all I could get out, but I wasn’t sure if the emotions swirling through me were nerves or anger or a combination of the two.

  I hurried up the stairs despite the darkness, keeping to the right so I was sure I didn’t bump into anyone. Behind me, Bryan sounded like he was struggling to keep up, and even though I knew he didn’t know any of our tricks for traversing the dangerous corridors of this building, I couldn’t force myself to slow down. The sooner we got to my room the sooner we could get this ridiculous conversation over with and move on. He and his platoon would be moving out in a day and then my life could get back to the way it had been. That’s all I wanted at this point: to have a routine so I could
pretend that everything around me was normal.

  It got better once we made it to the third floor, at least visually. But the tightly packed homemade halls were like an obstacle course, although one I had long ago perfected. Bryan, however, tripped and stumbled the whole way back to my room.

  It wasn’t until we reached my closed door that I thought about being in that small space with him. I’d already acknowledged to myself that I was attracted to this guy. He no longer reminded me of Michael—at all—but that didn’t mean they didn’t have the same kind of charisma. They did. It was a kind of raw magnetism that drew you in even though you didn’t know why. It made you want to stay up all night just so you could talk to them. Made you want the rest of the world to disappear so no one would ever disturb you. Made you do foolish and reckless things that turned your world upside down.

  Despite all that I only hesitated outside the door for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and pushing it open. My room was dark and stuffy, and the air was thick with the leftover scent of burning animal fat and sweat, with just a hint of moonshine. I could hear Bryan walk in behind me, could feel his body heat when he stepped too close. I knew his nearness had to do with the pitch black room, but it got my feathers ruffled anyway. Why couldn’t he learn to give me space? Why did he feel like he always needed to push me?

  I found my matches right where I’d left them; foregoing the pieces of flint I’d been practicing lighting fires with. I knew one day the flint would be my only option, but for now I needed light and I needed it fast, because Bryan was standing way too close to me and the room was way too small.

  A flame flickered through the darkness when I struck the match against the side of the box, and a second later the wick caught. It lit up the room, but only enough to give us a general idea of where we were. When I turned, Bryan was still standing too close to me, but he didn’t seem to notice because he was surveying the space. I took the chance to look him over, trying for the hundredth time since I first saw him to figure out why I found him attractive. For five years I’d licked my wounds and nursed a broken heart, and it didn’t make sense to be this drawn to him. To a man who had treated me with so much disdain when we’d first met. One who had looked at me like I was worse than the filthy floor we now stood on.

  He was better looking than he’d been back then, although I wasn’t sure if he had just aged well or if it was the rugged persona he’d taken on. Either way, it suited him. Back then he’d been a soft teenager who had gotten everything he’d wanted. He’d been spoiled and it had showed, from his perfectly ironed khaki pants to his screw-everyone-but-me attitude. His haircut had been the ultra-fashionable, trendy one of the day, not a single strand daring to be out of place. He had probably been too young to grow much facial hair back then, but even if he had been able to he wasn’t the type who would have done it.

  He had it now though, and his close cut beard was golden blond and stood out against his tan skin. His expression had taken on a hardness it hadn’t had before, making him seem tough while back then he’d worn a constant smirk. As if he thought he was surrounded by morons but was the only person smart enough to realize how dumb everyone else was.

  “This is nice,” he said after a moment.

  I found myself searching his face for insincerity, but the blue eyes that surveyed my room seemed like they belonged to another person entirely. As far as I could tell, he was being honest. It didn’t make sense at first, picturing him in the last place I’d seen him and comparing it to this hole. I was lucky because I’d been able to claim a pretty big office for myself. Not the biggest one, those were corner offices that had lots of windows, which made them difficult to board up, but a good size middle office. The desk was the only thing of the former occupants that I’d kept, and that was only because it had drawers, which were perfectly big enough to hold the few clothes I possessed: four shirts, four pairs of pants, and two dozen pairs of underwear. Stacked on top of the desk were books, which had been tough to read at first, but I had long ago gotten used to the dim light. What I had wasn’t much, but it was a home and I realized that was what Bryan was admiring. Being in the militia, he moved around all the time. He had nothing permanent except the knowledge that tomorrow he would be sleeping somewhere new.

  It seemed like a shitty way to live life.

  Still, having the opportunity practically handed to me on a silver platter, I couldn’t miss the chance to take a jab at him. “Compared to your mom and dad’s place, it probably looks like a hole,” I said, turning to face him.

  Bryan cringed and my insides twisted with guilt. No matter what I told myself, sometimes it was hard to remember just how much time had passed and how much we had both changed. The jab had been low and I knew it. He hadn’t apologized, but I could see the regret in his eyes every time we were around each other, and I knew he would have done it before now if I’d given him the chance. Only I hadn’t, and a part of me wondered if I hadn’t wanted him to suffer a little bit more before he did. Like I thought he deserved to really think about what he’d done before I graced him with my forgiveness. It was a shitty way to feel, but I was only human.

  “Sometimes it’s hard to believe the world was ever like that,” he said, his eyes focused on me. “I’m serious, though. This is nice.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered, wanting to make amends for what I’d just said but not knowing how. Other than to finally let him have his say.

  “Sometimes I think about leaving the militia and settling down.” His eyes once again traveled the length of the room.

  “Why don’t you?”

  “Because I want those bastards gone first. I feel like I can’t stop what I’m doing until we’ve won.”

  I didn’t think we could win, not the way he wanted to, but I bit down on my bottom lip and stopped the words from coming. I didn’t want to fight with him, and I knew that if I said what I was thinking that’s where this would lead, because that’s what always happened when someone like me, someone who lived in a settlement, faced off with a soldier. That’s why Daisy’s relationships, no matter how brief, were always so spicy. She refused to keep her mouth shut, refused to keep her opinions to herself. The difference between us was that she looked adorable when she stuck her ground, I just looked like a petulant child.

  “I’m sorry,” Bryan said out of nowhere. I wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for today or for the past, and he must have realized it because he continued, “For that day. Michael’s birthday.”

  I loved that he cringed when he said his brother’s name. Not because I wanted him to hurt, but because I wanted him to feel something. I’d barely wasted a single thought on Michael’s family over the past few years, but the few times that I had taken the time to consider them, it had been difficult to imagine that if any of them had been alive they would have wasted time thinking about him. They certainly hadn’t given him the time of day when he was alive.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  We were still standing on the threshold of my room, so close to one another that I felt it every time he exhaled. I could almost imagine that I could feel his heart beating as well, especially when he looked me over. I hated and loved the feeling. I wanted to pull away but at the same time step closer. I felt drawn to him, and I despised myself for it, but I knew I couldn’t deny it and I had a strong suspicion he could see it written on my face.

  “How?” was all he said, but it was enough to pull me away from this moment, from the desire to be closer to him.

  I closed my eyes because I felt as if I were seeing it all over again. As if I were there. It was so vivid that I imagined I could actually feel the heat from the explosion.

  “We were at the mall.” My voice came out so small and sad that it didn’t sound like the me who had learned to fight and had carried on for the past five years, but instead reminded me of the person I’d been certain had died that day. “We’d just gotten there, but Cassidy spit up before we got inside. I ran back to the car to get h
er clothes.” My voice caught in my throat because I had literally never said these words out loud. “When I turned around, the mall exploded.”

  The room was so silent that with my eyes closed I could almost imagine that Bryan had stepped out. That he’d gotten what he wanted from me and decided to leave. I cracked one eye and found him still there, staring at me, but it wasn’t until he reached out and wiped a tear off my cheek that I realized I was crying. It had been nearly five years since I’d cried. In fact, the anniversary of my last good cry was only a few days away.

  “I’m sorry,” Bryan said again. “You have no idea how many times over the last few years I’ve wished I could tell him that. I was a dick. I didn’t know what was important back then. If I could do it over—” His voice cracked and he looked away.

  “He would have forgiven you.”

  Michael and I had never actually talked about it, so I didn’t know if it was true. At the time we’d been too focused on surviving to think about the past. But my husband had been a good man, mature beyond his years and strong, and I liked to think that, if he were here, he would have hugged his brother and welcomed him back into his life.

  “I hope so,” Bryan said.

  We stood like that for a few minutes, both of us clearly unsure of what to do. Finally I turned and moved toward the cot, taking a seat on the edge because I was tired of standing. Bryan shuffled his feet for a few seconds, but less than a minute passed before he joined me on the bed.

  There we sat side by side, each of us lost in the silence. Being with him was less awkward than I would have thought, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable either. Only, I wasn’t sure if that had to do with our past or the fact that I still found myself very drawn to him.

  “You had a daughter?” he said after a bit.

  I nodded, surprised by the pain that shot through me at her memory. It still hurt, but it was duller than it had been. Less paralyzing.

  “Cassidy. She had blond hair and blue eyes, and a laugh exactly like Michael’s.”

 

‹ Prev