The Deepest Red (11 page)

“One of those large metal objects beside most of the old roads,” I say, wondering if she had ever seen what an un-rusted car looked like.

”I’m sure Chevy appreciates that.” She pets the puppy on top of his head.

“I think we should bathe and wash our clothes. I’m pretty gross,” I announce after minutes of silence.

We take turns bathing and washing our clothing in the creek while the other stands guard at the bank. I lean back letting my hair float around me in the cold water- enjoying the feeling of weightlessness. Unfortunately, the water is too cold to soak in for a long period of time; too quickly I’m out drying off with one of my extra shirts.  It takes a while to dry my wet hair but when I’m done, Clover and I are refreshed, both wearing a set of clean clothes. I return my hair back to the confinement of my hat. As we leave the creek’s banks, a excited Chevy splashes out of the water. He is dripping wet from chasing fish and jumping in and out of the current . He looks so much smaller with his hair stuck to his body but as soon as he shakes, the water flies from his fur and he’s as fluffy as he usually is.

“Ahhhhhh! Chevy!” Clover exclaims as drops of water splatter her. I snicker loudly.

Looking at the sun I can tell it’s almost evening.

“Where’s Connor?” I ask, “He has been gone a long time.” I perch myself on top of a dead log we had dragged over earlier.

“You’re not worried are you?” she smiles a knowing smile at me, “He’ll come back. He always does.”

Chevy settles in beside me snuggling up to my feet.
Oh lovely. What’s that smell?
I wrinkle my nose at the wet dog. Clover sits across from me, her blade propped up against the log. We stay like this for awhile, talking about nothing important.

I sense Connor before I hear him. I can’t explain the reasoning behind the feeling but I know he’s close. Connor emerges from the woods as Chevy runs to his side.
Oh. Hot. Damn.
I’d thought him pretty before but the man standing in front of me now is breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes are the same ash grey but his face is no longer covered in mud and dirt. Without it, I can see the sharpness of his facial features. His defined jaw is smooth as if he took a blade to his skin. Connor’s hair shines in the evening light, jet black. The fine straight pieces hang lightly on his forehead.

He changed clothing while he was gone as well. He still has on a black short sleeve shirt but it’s clean and molds to his chest as if it’s a second coating of his skin. Dark faded blue jeans hug his narrow hips, his muscles so lean on his body. I realize I’m staring. Blood rushes to my cheeks as I swing my head around, only to be looking into the eyes of Clover. She smirks as if we share an inside joke.

“About time you show up.” She raises her voice toward Connor without her eyes leaving mine.

Entering our little campsite, Connor throws down four dead rabbits beside me. Chevy hurries over to sniff the animals and begins to jump around making a hop and a bow movement. Little playful growls leave his throat and I smile.

“I didn’t realize you missed me,” he says not directing the comment to anyone.

He avoids eye contact with me and places his supply bag beside Clover.

“Oh, we didn’t. Not really,” Clover taunts him.

Connor play punches her in the shoulder as he bends down in a squat to search through his bag.

“The sun will be down shortly so I’m going to gut the rabbits and get them ready. As soon as it’s dark, start the fire. I want to eat as quickly as we can and then head up to the tree house.”

He pulls out whatever he needs from his bag, grabs the rabbits and turns toward the creek, all while ignoring me.
What the hell?

I sit for a minute not saying anything and lose myself in thought.
What did I do to him? I thought we were becoming friends. Sure, I enjoy teasing him but I don’t mean anything harmful. He can’t be mad at me, Connor does the same thing.
I start to replay every conversation between us, every action that was made by him or me.
I did try to hurt him several times. I’ve been an emotional wreck so he probably thinks I’m crazy. I've even ran from him twice.
Maybe after some time away, he decided that he doesn’t want to be friends, that I’m too cruel and cold. I do have a temper but that can’t be helped, I’ve tried. My anxiety raises at the thought of losing him.
Losing him? When did I start thinking I had him to begin with?
A chuckle brings me out of my daze.

Clover remains sitting in the same space as before only now her fingers are playing with the edge of her knife. In the fading light, I watch the light skim across her blade.

“I better start a fire now, it’ll take some time for smoke to be visible in the sky anyway,” I say as I fumble with the lighter’s switch.

Clover sits up a little bringing her legs up to her chest.

“You know I hardly ever see him nervous. It’s actually quite funny he is now.” A smile blooms on her face. “Priceless.”

“Nervous?” I reply.

Her teeth shine white through the dimness of twilight.

“Give him drifters, the infected; the unknown territory of a place we’ve only been told about in bedtime stories, with this he’s calm. He doesn’t even bat an eye, but put him with a freshly cleaned redhead in a tiny tree house and bam!” She strikes the dead log with the blade of her knife. “He’s as nervous as a child being away from his mother for the first time.”

She giggles a little before she pulls the knife from the worn trunk of the log.

“Don’t get me wrong Millie, we grew up on the outskirts of Americus. Plenty of girls would throw themselves at him. Every once in awhile at night, I caught him sneaking out to be with one of them but he never took the girls seriously.” She laughs. “Connor didn’t give a damn, I could tell.”

“Does he give damn about your language?” I smirk at the haughty glint in her eye.

“I’m older than I look,” Clover says lightly. “Anyway, Connor trained every hour of every day. His dad made sure of that and Connor never complained. I think he was more interested in protecting our little family, especially me and my sister.” Her shoulders slump at the memory of her sister. “My sweet baby sister.” She pauses. “I miss her. We lost her in what you call the red zone a few years ago. Drifters caught us on the edge of the mountain range. We’d gone out to gather supplies by ourselves, just her and I.” Clover stares out into the fading daylight. “It was stupid.” She whispers. Looking back toward me she says. “I felt I was old enough to protect her. We should’ve asked Connor to come with us, instead of sneaking out. We were way too young.” She glances down to her lap. “I’m still too young for this place.” She glances around the camp site. “I was learning how to train and she, well, she wanted to be with me.”

Clover tilts her head and looks into the constructed fire I set a blaze. As the flames lick the air the fire’s light reflects off her tears. I make my way over to her and place my arm around her shoulders. I pull her against me thinking of how losing Tom has affected me and we weren’t even family. I don’t really want to hear about the sadness of her life but my instinct to protect pulses and I find myself wanting to confide in her as well.

I lay my head a top of her newly cleaned blond hair as I hold her.

“My mother died in the red zone,” I begin. “They never would tell me how. Everyone always gets quiet when her name is brought up by mistake. All I can piece together is she did scouting runs with old Tom for a couple of years- he trained her.” I sigh. “Then all of a sudden, she traded partners. I was hoping I would be able to get some information out of him once I proved I could survive out in this dreary place- once he trusted me.”

Clover reaches out her hand and squeezes my knee. The little gesture comforts and encourages me  to continue.

“I left home a few days ago. My Dad was upset with me so we got into a huge fight.” I pause. “Since I’m eighteen, I was given my own sleeping quarters and new assignments. Dad knew I had joined the scavenging groups but thought that once I started red zone training, I would change my mind. I didn’t. I was hoping he would meet me at the prison gate to say goodbye. He didn’t.” I take a deep breath. “I miss him,” I admit.

Clover straightens so I unwrap my arms from around her, all at once missing the comfort of touching another person. She wipes the tears from her cheeks.

“I think we can agree this life is an unfair one,” she states matter of factly, “but if you’re eighteen and this is the first time you’ve seen an infected then I want to go to your prison. I want to have my own room, somewhere safe that I don’t have to worry about being separated from Connor.” She peers in my eyes, pleading. “Will you take me?” I place my hand upon hers.

“Yeah, I will- I’ll take you.”

We sit in silence for awhile until Chevy joins us. His fluffy body wedges itself between our knees. We both smile at the puppy and begin to pet his fur, picking out tiny pieces of leaves stuck inside. My hand smoothes over the softness of his head as his wet nose touches the bare skin of my arm. With every loving touch, Clover and I slowly transfer all of our heartache into a fondness for this little creature and for each other.

Chapter Seven

Connor finally joins us from the creek with the gutted rabbits. He’s still ignoring me so I decide I’ll do the same. I don’t believe Clover’s explanation of him being nervous. The idea is laughable, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to beg for his attention. Clover begins to slice bark off of a few small sticks with her knife, sharpening the ends into points. We use these to hold bits of rabbit over the open flame. Time passes quickly as we devour the roasted animals, my eyes drifting to Connor’s sharp features every once in awhile. A sleeping Chevy lays on his side, his tummy fat from all of his stolen meat.

Connor sits across from me still avoiding eye contact. I begin to openly stare him down on principal.
Let him feel my eyes kicking him in the face.
I cross my arms and scowl. As I glare I can’t help but take in the overall picture that is Connor. My heart thrums slightly, the reaction not as extreme as when I first laid eyes on him. He sits sharpening his knives, his eyes focus on his task. A cool breeze crosses my face and I move in closer to the fire, nudging a worthless Chevy to the side.

Once I’m settled in my new warm spot I begin my game of glaring again.
I think I’m getting used to the overall shock of Connor’s presence.

“Stop staring at me.” His deep voice breaks the silence.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m trying to decide if you’re still alive since you’ve done nothing but ignored me.” My voice sounds annoyed as hell. “I thought we were becoming friends,” I say.

Well, there goes my being decent about it.
He looks up from his knives at my comment. In the reflection of fire light his eyes are a mesmerizing smokey grey.

“How does ignoring you mean I’m dead?” he asks.

“Yeah, it doesn’t but then again the comment got you talking,” I say smugly.

Connor gives a sly grin, his sight shifting to my fishermen hat.
Is he nervous? That can’t be right.
He scans me taking in every detail of my face and body as if making up for lost time. I hold back a shiver from the desire surfacing.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he says in a seductive voice.
Wait, is that a blush on his face?
Connor diverts his gaze quickly so I can’t be sure. I feel my face heat up in response.
What is wrong with me?

“Okay.”

I can’t manage out any other word than that.

“Connor,” I hear Clover’s soft voice from beside me, “We need to tell Millie about the infected. If anything happens, I want her to be able to spread the word about them.”

Connor places his now sharpened knives back into their sheath. Resting his arms on his knees, he takes a deep breath and begins to speak.

“It’s hard to know where to begin with the infected. They start off as any other person obviously.” Connor leans back slowly still avoiding eye contact. “The infected person develops a fever, bloodshot eyes occur and after a few hours they complain of a burning sensation all over their body. Over a period of a few days, the infected start to display signs of madness.” He pauses. “The skin becomes a light tinted blue with boils and puss filled bumps that cover in clusters.”

“Have these people been bitten by an infected?” I ask.