Fall of Venus (10 page)

He’s
right. I am vulnerable. And I’m not sure if my feelings are genuine or just a
result of my pain and loneliness. I hope that they are real because I couldn’t
live with myself otherwise.

I
stand up and grasp his hands in mine. “I’m sorry, Marcus. I do feel something
for you. Something strong. I’ve felt it since the moment you pulled me from
that car. I can’t explain it. You are right. I am hurting. But I don’t want to
be alone tonight. Please don’t be so distant. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Marcus
loosens his emotional shield and pulls my body to his, one hand around my waist
and the other around the back of my head, tangling his fingers through ribbons
of my hair. My fingers wrap tightly around his rocky biceps. He gazes at me,
not wanting to rush in too quickly. I can see the struggle in his eyes, wanting
to move forward, then holding back. The shield begins to melt and he slowly
leans in toward me until our lips are so close I can feel the warmth emanating
from his, but still not touching. Then the moment is obliterated when the
shrill chime of the doorbell breaks the silence.

Our
lips separate and we stare, wide-eyed, at each other, before looking up toward
the trap door. Our chests are still pressing together and I can feel his heart
thumping as strongly and quickly as mine.

“Stay
here,” he says. “I’ll check.”

“Like
hell I will. It’s my house, I’m going with you,” I reply. Marcus rolls his
eyes, but I think he knows I am not going to back down. “Fine,” he says. “Just
stay behind me.”

As
we ascend the stairs I try to think of who might know we are here. I was
outside for a while, at my parents’ gravesite in my mother’s garden. But that
is so secluded, the only way someone would have seen me is if they were hiding
in the woods. And I have to admit I wouldn’t have heard anyone snooping because
of the noisy wind chimes. Or, then again, somebody could have seen us enter the
house. Maybe one of the neighbors survived and evaded being taken into custody
at Crimson. If they had seen us they might feel compelled to come talk to us.
Then another possibility slinks into my mind. Myra. And the others she was
with. What if they weren’t who they said they were? What if they were really
bounty hunters and they turned us in. But they didn’t have the mark on their
eyes. Then again, maybe they are back. They knew we wouldn’t be able to stay
here long and they came back for us. Myra did say that she would find us when
we’re ready. That’s got to be it.

Marcus
presses his shoulders against the trap door pushing it up ever so slightly. I
stand under him waiting, holding my breath. The doorbell rings again. Then some
loud knocking. The rhythm of it sounds familiar.

Marcus
lowers his head to me, “Damn it! I left that candle lit in the dining
room.”
 
He lifts the trap door
cautiously; to make sure it stays silent. I follow him up into the kitchen. The
only source of light is emanating from the candle in the dining room, but we
can’t go that way or we’ll be seen for sure. The only other option is to slink
through the pitch-blackness of the living room.

“Wait,”
I tell Marcus. “I know this house. I can get through it in the dark. Follow
me.”
 
Marcus stays close behind me
as we exit the kitchen into the living room, keeping low, so as not to cast
shadows from any residual light that might reach us. Then the doorbell sounds
again, and then the knocking. There is a particular pattern to the knocking, a
beat to a song I know. And now I know why it sounds familiar. I stand up in a
whirlwind of awareness and disbelief, walking directly to the door, like a moth
to a flame. I’m not worried about shadows now.

“Pollen,”
Marcus whispers as he tries to grab my arm, but it slips out of his hands.
“No!”

I
approach the door, pulling the flashlight out of my pocket and turn it on. I
aim the light out the window to be sure. Then a rare form of elation mixed with
terror envelops me. I open the door, and there before me stands a ghostly
figure. It’s Glenn.

Chapter
12

The
flashlight clanks as it falls to the concrete porch and there’s a moment of
complete and utter emptiness as I try to comprehend what is going on.
Is
this a dream? How can he be alive?
He
smiles and approaches me, extending his solid arms around me and squeezing the
breath out of me. At first I’m petrified and keep my arms at my side, unable to
flex a muscle. Then I relax, returning the embrace.

“I
missed you, Polly,” says Glenn.

He
pulls away from me, but keeps his hands on my shoulders grasping them snuggly.
He lifts a hand to my chin and carefully tilts my face up.

“What
happened to your face?” Even in the dark of night, my scar is a beacon. If I
weren’t in shock right now I’d turn away to hide the hideousness of it.

“Glenn?
Is it really you?” I ask, squinting my eyes, still skeptical of the sight
before me. “I thought you died. It was in the paper.”

“Oh,
that,” he says with a slight chuckle. “I paid off the coroner to put me on the
dead list. He was sick, himself, and was trying to scrounge up as much money as
he could for the so-called ‘cure.’” Glenn lowers his head and chuckles
nefariously to himself again.

I’m
still not sure what to make of the situation. Glenn is back. He is alive. I
should be ecstatic. But something seems different. There’s an unexplained
tension between us that feels…off. I hesitate to invite him inside when a
dreadful thought occurs to me. If he is deceptive enough to pay off the coroner
to list him as dead, might he be persuaded to join the bounty hunters? After all,
why is he here, and not at Crimson? Sickness boils in the pit of my empty
stomach and an icy chill shoots down my spinal cord. I reach down and pick up
the flashlight I dropped and shine it into his eyes. He flinches and waves his
hands in front of his face to block the glaring light. “Polly, stop. What are
you doing?”

“Be
still Glenn. I need to see your eyes, just for a second,” I say.

He
removes his hands. “Why?” he asks.

“Just
do it,” I order. He’s not used to me making demands of him. I’m usually the
quiet wallflower around him.

“Okay,
but stand back a bit,” he says, taking a step back himself.

I
flash the light at him again. He squints at first, but draws his eyelids open
with his fingers. They look normal – no marks. I lower the flashlight,
releasing my tension in one deep, bone-crushing sigh. “Sorry, Glenn. I just had
to see if …”

“If
I’m one of them,” he interrupts. “I’m not.”

“I’m
sorry. It’s so good to see you,” I say wrapping my arms around him again,
trying to convince myself that I am glad he’s back. He smells good. Better than
I do. Like eucalyptus and mint.

“Who’s
that?” asks Glenn, looking behind me. Marcus.
How could I forget about
Marcus?
I’ve got to be careful about what I
say and choose my words carefully. Glenn’s jealous streak is not to be taken
lightly.

I
turn around to face Marcus and can sense his dolor even though it’s too dark to
see his reaction. The air has thickened with a roux of jealous tension and I’m
not sure which man it is emanating from. Or maybe both. Glenn walks in before
me boldly, as if he’s lived here for years.

“This
is Marcus,” I start. Then I pause for a moment. How do I continue? He’s my
friend. No, that will break Marcus’s heart. He’s my companion? Partner? No.
Glenn will assume the worst. Luckily, Marcus chirps in. His voice is soft and
composed.

“I
found her running from some bounty hunters in the woods a few days ago. I
wanted to make sure she made it home safely. I assume you are Glenn? She’s told
me much about you,” says Marcus, stepping closer to get a better look.

“All
good, I hope,” says Glenn with a contrived smile. He grabs my hand and squeezes
so tightly that my fingers are crushed together.

“Of
course,” says Marcus, forcing his pressed lips to curl up at the sides. He
glances at me and in the faint radiation of candlelight from the other room, I
can see the regret in his dilated pupils. Pieces of my heart begin to chip
away. I can’t bear to look at him now.

“I
saw the candle in the window and just knew you had to be here,” says Glenn.
“Why don’t we all go sit down and catch up?” Then he takes my hand and leads us
into the dining room where he moves a chair to sit next to me, and Marcus takes
a seat on the opposite side of the table.

The
white candle wax has dripped into a puddle onto the surface of the table,
essentially gluing the candleholder in place. I look at it nervously, worried
about what could have happened if Glenn hadn’t driven us out of the bunker.
Would the wax have caught on fire, sending the table and the rest of the house
up in flames?
 
I shake the thought
out of my head. I have other things to worry about now besides
hypothetical
 
fire pits.

I
tell Glenn about the past few days. Waking up in the woods, being chased by the
mountain men, Marcus rescuing me. I obviously leave out the intimate details of
what’s gone on between Marcus and me. I even tell him about the COPS dropping
us off here and their offer to find us.

“Wow.
Sounds like you two had quite an adventure,” Glenn eyes Marcus suspiciously,
who has been sitting quietly, staring at a wall, away from us.

Marcus
turns and glares back at Glenn, “So what have you been doing all this time?
Since everyone was taken to Crimson.”

“Surviving,”
Glenn starts. Then he turns to me, “I came by to check on you and Evie, but you
were gone. I knew you weren’t dead. I don’t know how, but I did. I’ve just been
hanging out in the neighborhood ever since. Trying to keep a low profile.”

“What
about your father?” I ask. Glenn was an only child and his mother abandoned
them when he was very young, leaving his father to raise him by himself.

“He
passed shortly after yours did,” he said, looking down at the table. After a
moment, “I’m so glad you’re okay.” He brushes the scraggly hair out of my face
and rubs his thumb around my temple. “What’s this, you’re getting tattoos now?
And what happened to your face?” He studies the scar, but keeps his hands off,
as if it’s contagious.

I
pull back and push his hand down. “No. I mean they did this to me at Crimson.
Took my ring, too.” I lift up my hand to show him.

“Damn,”
he says. “You know how much that thing cost me?” Tears begin to well up in my
eyes. He can be such a jerk sometimes. After being hunted, captured, and almost
killed, he seems to care more about that stupid ring. I can see Marcus getting
agitated and I shake my head ever so slightly at him.

“Oh
well,” says Glenn. “Can’t do anything about it now. You should get some sleep
after all you’ve been through. Maybe we’ll go by there tomorrow and try to get
it back.” I’m feeling more than a little irritated that Glenn has walked in and
started to take charge of our situation. Marcus, on the other hand, is done
being quiet about it.

“No!”
Marcus stands so forcefully I’m sure he’s about to flip the table. “What the
hell are you thinking?”

“Whoa,
whoa, dude. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just joking. Of course we can’t
go there,” Glenn says nervously. His leg is resting against mine and I can feel
the muscles tense reflexively as if he is on guard. Marcus sits down, but the
air is so thick it’s hard to breath. Glenn turns to me and strokes the back of
my head, “So, sleeping arrangements. You and I can take your parents’ bed and
Marcus can have your room.” I think about the bunker, but decide to keep quiet.
I’m still not sure I trust Glenn yet, even though I can’t quite pinpoint why.

Marcus
stands back up and combs his fingers through his hair. “I’m gonna get out of
here. Maybe find my way home. I need to get some air anyway.”

“No,”
I say as I stand, kicking the chair back behind me. “You can’t go by yourself. Not
this late at night.”

“Polly’s
right,” Glenn adds. “It’s not safe out there, dude. Stay here tonight. We’ll
all figure out what to do next in the morning after we get some rest.” Marcus
looks at me as if he’s searching for an answer.

“Please,
Marcus,” I implore. He looks into my eyes longingly and, although I know Glenn
is right beside me, I can’t bring myself to look away.

“Okay.
But I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Good,”
says Glenn as he guides me out of the dining room. I stop him. “I never washed
the bedding.”

“What?”
he asks.

“After
my parents died. I shut the door and left it as it was. We can’t sleep in
there,” I say.

“Okay,
well we’ll sleep in your bed, then. It’s cozier anyway.” I think about the
twin-size bed in my room and suddenly I’m overcome with nausea. I don’t want to
sleep with Glenn tonight. Something is different. There’s a weird distance
between us that I cannot begin to understand. I know I should be happy to see
him, but every time he touches me I feel nauseated.

“You
have any more candles?” asks Glenn as we walk into my room. I just remembered
we left all the candles lit down in the bunker. Not good to leave a fire hazard
in our safety zone, especially considering my fear of blazing fires.

“Wait
here, I’ll go get them,” I say, as I hand him the flashlight.

“Polly…”
he calls out. I turn around. “I love you.” I hold back and stiffen at the sound
of those words.
Something’s really not right.
Until I figure it out, I don’t want him to be suspicious, so I blow
him a kiss and continue to the bunker. The door is still open so I go down the
stairs to find Marcus squatting by the shelves, loading cans in his bag.

“You’re
not going,” I say, startling him.

“And
why shouldn’t I?” he whispers. “You’ve got your fiancé back. I’m sure he’ll be
happy to escort you back to Crimson to rescue Evie. I’m not needed anymore.”
Marcus is cold, distant, a completely different man from the one I snuggled
with only an hour ago.

I
approach him, resting my hand on his shoulder, but he pulls away. “Marcus…”

“Don’t,”
he says. Anger fills his eyes and they stab me through the heart. I might cry
except I don’t have any tears left.

“I
don’t want you to go,” I say. Some of the anger melts away as compassion fights
to get through.

“I’m
not going to stay in this house while you two… do whatever you’re going to do,”
he says.

“Which
is nothing. I’m going to sleep in Evie’s room tonight,” I say.

“Does
Glenn know this?”

“Not
yet,” I lower my voice in case Glenn is near. “Something’s different about him.
I just can’t figure it out.”
 

Marcus’s
demeanor changes as he lets his emotional guard down. He’s hurting deeply and
doesn’t want to show it.

“I’ll
stay for tonight,” he says. “But don’t expect to see me in the morning.” That’s
not good enough, but I know I’ll never be able to convince him otherwise, not
when he’s like this.

“Thank
you.” I want to wrap my arms around him and wallow in his embrace, but I know
that’s not possible now. I pick up two candles and extinguish the rest, leaving
that scent of smoking wax wafting throughout the bunker. I wait for Marcus to
go ahead of me and give him one candle, a pillow and blanket before I head back
to my room. The anticipation increases as I mentally rehearse what I am going
to say to Glenn. “I need to be alone. I think it’s best if we sleep separately
tonight. It has nothing to do with Marcus. I love you.”

On
the way back, I stop at the bathroom. It’s been I don’t know how long since
I’ve showered. My legs are caked with dried mud and I still have dirt under my
nails from digging in the garden earlier. I must smell like a bag of rotten
potatoes. Luckily, my parents had a new water system installed last summer, so
the water still runs even when the power is out. I stand under the shower,
allowing the icy water to prick my back like a thousand sharp nails. Normally,
I’d keep it short, but I’m buying time before I have to face Glenn again. As
I’m stepping out of the shower, I notice a quick glint of light out of the
corner of my eye. The doorknob turns a quarter of an inch before it abruptly stops.
Good thing I locked the door. Glenn is waiting for me. Knowing him, he probably
wanted to join me in the shower. I’d better get my clothes back on and face
him.

I
open the door to the bedroom. He must have turned the flashlight off because it
is pitch black except for the dim light radiating from the candle I’m holding,
which only penetrates a small radius.

“Glenn?”
I whisper.

“Over
here.” He is already in my bed, under the blanket.

“Glenn,
I don’t think we should…” I can’t even finish before he takes the candle from
me, sets it down, and plants his wet lips over mine in a sloppy kiss. I can’t
push him away. If I do he’ll know that there is something between Marcus and
me. Glenn’s kisses are so different than Marcus’s. When Marcus kisses me it
drives deep down into my soul. Glenn’s kisses barely scratch the surface.

I
allow him to pull me down into bed with him, where I realize he is naked under
the covers. When he starts to unbutton my shirt, I stop him. “Please Glenn,” I
say.

“What’s
wrong,” he whispers under his deep panting.

“I’m
still sore from all that running. Can we just lay here and cuddle tonight?”

“Of
course,” he says and my tensions are eased, if only for a moment.

“Your
clothes smell,” Glenn says. “You should at least take them off.” The savage
waters in my gut begin to surge as the nausea takes over. Glenn still sees me
as the same naïve young girl he met five years ago.