The Famished Trilogy (Novella): Bailing Out into the Dead Page 17
I can blame General Stevenson all I want. But with Martial Law in effect, he’s doing the best he can at what he thinks is best for this country under a global bioterrorist catastrophe. The truth is, when it comes down to it, Rudy and I chose to keep things how they are. He came back for me when he found out the general was going to keep me busy on missions despite their deal.
It’d been three months since we were drugged and taken to Birmingham. I’d woken one night with the distinct feeling of being watched. I knew it was Rudy, but didn’t understand why he didn’t show himself. I even walked around outside naked to try to get him to talk to me.
Two nights later, I was exhausted from training and more than a little pissed off at being knocked on my ass. I undressed for a shower and let my internal wounds bleed for a few minutes in the privacy of the steam. The hot water washing away my tears so I couldn’t see how many I’d shed. After drying off, I felt like crawling down the hall. One thing at a time. I needed to get clothes, lie in bed to mentally list why I put myself through this every day, and then masturbate, hoping beyond hope that would help me sleep. When I’d finally made it into my bedroom, adrenaline shot through my system again.
Rudy sat nonchalantly on the bed with his elbows resting on his knees that poked through the frayed holes of his jeans. The elation that came into my being and the buoyancy that I felt in that second was indescribable, but it was all replaced with anger. The desolation and heartache I just released, still close under the surface. And the fact he’d probably heard me? It was too much.
My face heated. I stalked a few steps, his eyes widening as I balled my fist and swung it low. I connected under his chin, feeling his teeth snap together. I launched myself on top of him before he could recover. “Why?” I huffed with another swing, but he dodged at the last second. I grunted in frustration and used my other fist which he evaded just as easily. Tears threatened my eyes when I smelled him—earthly and fresh—a different soap than I remember, but still uniquely Rudy. Finally, I slapped him across the face. My palm stung as I paused my assault at seeing his shit-eating grin. His eyes crinkled at the corners, not quite hiding his own lack of sleep and worry.
“You’re enjoying this?” Disbelief colored my tone. He shrugged, smiled wider, and gripped my thighs. “You aren’t even trying to stop me.”
“You can do whatever you want to me when you’re naked, darlin’.”
I bit my lips together to keep from smiling, his playful nature and his endearment for me melted my heart right then. Three months of building my armor again apparently didn’t work where he was concerned. It was hard to stay mad when he said exactly the right thing.
I clenched his T-shirt in my hands. “Why did you do it?”
The room suddenly flipped and I landed on my back. The sight of him on top of me brought a rush of the flutters as if he alone had access to tickling my insides. I’d missed him, in more ways than one, but my pride was on the line now. He tried to pin my wrists, but I bucked and struggled. His knees managed to maneuver between my legs. I gasped at the feel of it. Heady. I didn’t truly want to hurt him but he wasn’t even breaking a sweat or breathing hard. My knuckles throbbed from hitting his concrete jaw. He seemingly wasn’t even affected by the current position. Bastard. I huffed out air, going slack.
“You finished?” The deep whisper was meant to allure and seduce. He released me by skimming his hands down the sensitive underside of my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It pissed me off he was ignoring my question. He had another thing coming if he thought it’d be that easy.
“No.” I went for him again and tried to shove him off. Bad move. I hit at an angle. My wrist flared with fresh agony, but he didn’t know, holding them tighter. I wiggled underneath him, but he only pinned me to the mattress harder. I heaved a pained yelp. We stilled in shocked silence. He let go but didn’t move from his place between my legs. I cradled my arm against my chest.
“Not that it doesn’t get me going, but don’t be mad at me.” His words hit my cheek. His fingertips traced my arm and gently wrapped around my wrist. “And what’s wrong with your wrist?”
“Answer my question, Rudy.”
He blew out a breath then proceeded to tell me about waking up in Birmingham, the deal he struck with the general, all the intense training, how he doesn’t know exactly what they’d be doing yet, and how the unit came here for another recruit, but he didn’t know who it was until the other night. Sander.
My lips tightened. “You had to have known I’d keep at it myself because of the council.”
He rubbed a hand down his face. “Yes. At the very least you’d keep gathering survivors from compounds. I knew that, I’m not stupid, but he’d have found a way to get what he wanted, anyway. Plus, do you ever wonder what Mac was going to tell you?”
I sucked in a ragged breath. “All the time.”
“What if I could find out? You would’ve done the same thing.”
I couldn’t argue with him on that one. He tapped my wrist with his thumb as if to prompt me.
“I broke it while I was still in Tennessee. It flares up from time to time.”
He met my gaze. I relaxed at the softness there. “When you killed Guido?”
“And Dalton.” These facts might be something that kept me up at night, but I didn’t regret them.
More silence ensued as we tried to gather our thoughts and feelings. “So, you were here the other night.” My words cracked, remembering. I searched his eyes—the greens and browns swirling with emotion. “You wanted me to know.”
He nodded and touched the puffiness around my eyes. Maybe seeing my own misery? My pulse pounded inside of my wrist as he brought it between our faces to kiss. My ill mood long gone, I released a gush of air and threw my arms around him. “Sorry,” I whispered against the skin of his neck. “I just—”
He pushed back to smile a little as his gaze roamed my face, shaking his head. “I don’t want to wallow right now.” The next thing I knew, he sat up and I was in his lap. I moved my legs to straddle and wrap around his waist. He skimmed my bare legs with his hot palms and sucked in a breath. His arms finally encircled me, his fingertips gripped my lower back.
I kissed his upper lip. Just a brush. “I need you.” My hoarse voice hung in the air between us. The moonlight from the window reflected in his eyes. Electric heat, sizzling and quick, shot through my body from where ever he touched me. I trailed my hands over his shoulders. He closed his eyes as if savoring the feel of me.
His eyes popped open and he smiled. “How hard was it to say that?”
“I imagine vomiting glass shards would’ve been easier.”
He laughed. The rich sound had a fathomless effect on me. And then my hands were everywhere, wanting and needing to be close. I fumbled around as I ran my fingertips through his hair, skimmed his scruff and lips. His actions were that of a man who knew what he needed and had a confidence that he wouldn’t be refused. He flipped me back to the bed. A belt buckle rattled and a zipper unzipped, and then we were lost.
After, my forehead rested on his shoulder and our fingers were still laced. We panted from exertion. Sweat covered our bodies like early morning dew. His body started shaking and when I realized he was laughing, I followed his gaze. Dex was perched on the nightstand, watching us with impervious eyes.
I laughed a little. “He’s not impressed. We couldn’t even wait fifteen minutes before having sex.”
“Yeah, well,” he murmured, squeezing my hand. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.”
I met his gaze. The overwhelming joy was a stark contrast to the past three months of emotional torture. “I wasted so much time. I let my fear of losing you drive me—” I sighed as the surprise of our reunion dissipated. “Not that I’m complaining, but why tonight and not—”
“You mean why didn’t I come at you while you were doing laundry in the middle of the night?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I shrugged, grinning. I had hung my sheet
on the clothesline in the backyard, in the buff, but he never came out. My smile dropped and I had to look away from his intense gaze. I also went back into the shadows and cried.
“I needed to watch myself, but I needed to see you. I had a feeling Stevenson wouldn’t hold up his end of the deal. Especially when he didn’t allow us to talk. What does he have you doing? I sure as hell can’t get any straight answers.”
“Doing what we did in Montana. Gather anything we can and destroy labs. You’re right about Nastas; the council’s more focused on survivors.” I told him about Kyle’s correspondence with others interested in joining us and my plan that would benefit us—not just the coalition or the council—my plan to use them as much as they use us. I shook my head. “And they’re going to figure out Sander is missing.”
“I don’t care, Kan. Leaving you in Birmingham… that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” He stared hard at the ceiling. I could practically see his wheels turning. “Maybe everything happens for a reason, right?”
“I like to think so.”
“The way I see it, we have a few options.” He looked at me in a probing way. “We could leave. Make our own place and let them deal with this shit on their own.”
I’d already thought about this—long and hard. It was kind of scary he brought it up. “What about the team? And Gwen? And Julie and Ariella? You should see them. They’re healthier, safe. We can’t ask them to live like we were, Rudy.”
“I know, I’m just voicing our choices. If we left, I could also be held accountable for desertion if the country ever gets back in collective order.”
In other words, he’d be looking over his back for the rest of his life. I winced, not willing to think about that. “It’d be inevitable, so that’s not really a choice.”
“But making a place of our own would be.”
I sat up. “What’re you saying?”
“I’m saying if I wanted to be in the fucking military, I’d have signed up right out of high school, so if I’m going to do it, we’re doing it our way. You said Kyle’s been chatting with others who want to help us, right?”
I nodded. “I get where you’re going with this but…”
“It’ll be hard on us the most, yes.” He grabbed my hand and placed it over his heart, watching my face. “Have I ever thanked you for helping Julie?”
“I didn’t really… I was repaying you for helping me. You could have left me wrapped around that tree. You didn’t.”
“That’s not the only reason. You were going to Clarksville, anyway. Why?”
I shrugged. “At the time, I wanted to know what was really going on there, but then—” Shifting on the bed, I pulled the sheet over my leg and twisted at a corner. “I needed to be useful, I guess. I wanted to be the person my father raised me to be.” And then he smiled his smile. The one that made me feel like I needed sunglasses. I scoffed but it turned into a sigh. “I guess there’s only one choice. We need to finish what we started.”
Still smiling, he nodded. “My commanding officer knows I’m here.”
“What?”
“And he doesn’t care. He’ll help out with leave time, I’m sure of it. I’ve spent the past three months hating our situation, but I think we can use it to our advantage.”
I was already forming ideas. “We could. It’ll just take time. You’ll have to feel everything out before we make any concrete decisions.”
He agreed, threading his fingers through my hair near my scalp. “It’s you and me, darlin’.”
Now, Dex startles—breaking me from the memory—when Kyle walks through the front door with his pack of equipment. Rudy and I didn’t know at the time how harrowing it’d be on us. We had an idea, sure, but honestly if I could go back, I wouldn’t change a thing.
Kyle yawns. “I’ll set up and see what I can do.”
“I’ll make the coffee and be right in and tell you what I know.” I watch him trudge down my hallway to the spare bedroom. We need to be more aggressive and I need to talk to Rudy. It’s been too long. Plans take time to execute and when you’re trying to keep multiple parties happy? It takes even longer.
An odd smell spurs me to grab for my gun in its holster under my bed. I strain to listen. The eerie silence brings a low-pitch ringing to my ears. My own pumping blood and pounding heart.
The odor is well past the grave, like rotten dirt and maggots. Like desecrated skulls leftover from long decayed carcasses. My feet hit the cold floor—colder than normal and the chill seeps into my skin, into my bones.
When I walk from my bedroom, I’m no longer in my house but I am. My surroundings are nothing but a translucent veil. My toes sink deep into damp earth and the smell becomes stronger. Awareness strikes me. A presence near, I spin coming face to face with Mago.
He moves his lips but nothing comes out. His face is ghastly, losing vibrancy right before my eyes.
“What?” I ask, but a high-pitch ring breaks out. I scream, throwing my hands over my ears. His skin starts to collapse in a time-lapsed decomposition. When the skin dries, it falls from stark-white bone, dirt and larvae dropping from the orifices. Something wiggles on my toes. I glance down to see maggots turning over and over, squirming in a mass below my feet and through my toes. I jump back, bumping into something that grabs me. I gasp as a famished snarl comes through loud and clear. So vivid, I feel the breath on my neck. Right on the spot where I’m sure my pulse beats heavy from my skin. My stomach turns with acid as I whirl to the source of the smell—
I lurch from my bed. Air heaves from my lungs. Sweat coats my body as I throw myself in front of the toilet, vomiting thin strands of bile. My whole being still shuddering from the nightmare. Spitting one last time, I move to the sink. My hands still shakily holding my weight. I can barely splash cold water on my face, even though I feel like I need to drown myself in disinfectant. “What the fuck was that?” Whatever it was… it’s not good.
Moving around is pretty much impossible. Fatigue of the highest power has settled into my being, no matter how much coffee I drink. But even if I did try for more shuteye, I won’t be able to. No way.
The coalition’s systems are still up and running, Kyle and I found out last night. I’m still not able to communicate with Stevenson, so my plans are to speed the Birmingham trip to today. I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep again until I figure out what’s going on—not after last night.
“I was thinking about something,” I casually mention to Reece the next morning, following him around his greenhouse we built of old windows. It’s large and used for fruit trees that require little maintenance. Gorgeous greenery grows everywhere. The balmy air smells of dirt, and if not for the whiff of marijuana he grows, I think the dirt odor would make me sick. He grows easy things since we travel and whatever he harvests, he shares with the team. The top windows are open, so a nice breeze flows through. I run my hand over some waxy leaves.
“Yeah? What’s up?” He stops, bending over to check something out. He digs around, uncovering a greenish potato and then covering it back up. He moves on to something else.
“I think Sander, Sam, and Mya need to leave sooner than later. It won’t take them long to get the—”
He cuts me off with his hand and stands up, spinning around to face me. “Today?” He raises his bushy eyebrows that automatically get hidden beneath his shaggy, salt and pepper hair.
“Yeah. I mean, early this afternoon. I can help with whatever.” It’s true, I wasn’t able to sleep after the dream, so I did a lot of thinking and planning. They can be back before we go to another compound. Besides, I don’t want to plan anything until I know Rudy is safe. I have a feeling it’s not him I need to be worried about.
Reece breaks out into a grin. “I’m sure you would.” He turns back to whatever plant he was coddling before. “You know, Hanna came to see me this morning.” My stomach sinks, and I’m sure my face drains of color. Dammit. “To make sure you don’t back out of a certain obligation.”
/> “Reece, seeing what’s happening in Birmingham is way more important. Finding Rudy is way more important.”
“We’ve all done it. Your turn,” he singsongs.
I sigh. “You’re completely missing my point.”
“No, I’m worried about him, too. I just think we should stick with our original plan. Rushing is never good, remember?”
Something crashes near the back of the greenhouse. I spin around, pulling the pocket pistol from the small of my back and scan through the abundance of leaves. Making it to the back, a tray of seedlings is spilled on the floor. I take in the dirt, and the waving leaves of plants. None of them happen to be broken, however. My eyes narrow down the passage of plants. I take a step forward.
“I’ll pick it up.”
I jump and turn to Reece. Putting my finger to my lips, I whisper, “Someone’s in here.” I point to the now still plant.
He rolls his eyes. “No one’s in here. The tray probably hit it on the way down.” He pushes me down the middle aisle toward the door. “You’re just trying to get out of going to the school.”
At that, I stop and my face falls. “Please switch with me. You’re good at talking to them. I’ll do whatever you want for a year. Throw me in the middle of a horde of famished as bait or something. Just don’t make me do this.” I might sound a little desperate as I pick a leaf and start ripping it to shreds. I drop it when he narrows his eyes at what I’m doing.
He walks me to the door and speaks when we get there. “As humorous as your begging is, we’re not ready so we’ll keep with the timeline. They leave tomorrow. As planned.”
I throw up my hands. “There’s way too much shit going on. I have too much on my mind. Too much to do.”
“So, you think you’re too good to handle the little stuff, is that it?” He stares me down, daring me to keep arguing.
“No!” I glance around to make sure we’re alone. “I think Mago tried contacting me last night.”
He snaps up to peer at me. “How?”
“A dream.” I rub my arms. I still feel dirty, like the maggots are under my skin. Like I could slice open my wrists and they’d writhe out with pus and blood. I shudder. “I mean, I just know he tried. He couldn’t. It was… off. Something bad’s going down.”