The Deepest Red (23 page)

“Did you watch your mother turn?” I ask, coming to a halt beside him.

“This isn’t about me,” he replies while shaking his head and pushing forward through tall weeds.

“Yes, it is,” I say, gaining on him. “This is about you and me and everyone else left in this horrible world.” I grab his arm. “As much as I want to believe this cult is going to pass over us without noticing our small community, I can’t. We need you Connor. We need you to train everyone who is willing to learn.”

I release my hold and continue ahead.

“You know, when this cult first started, I thought it was a good thing. I thought someone was finally doing something about the sickness. Someone besides my mother was taking a stand and helping. It wasn’t until they came for her that I learned otherwise.”

Connor matches his pace with mine- his presence intimidating yet comforting.

“The more they take the more power they get, the more power they get, the more horrible things they can get away with doing.” Connor sneers the words. “God wouldn’t demand the death of innocent people, I don’t think God works like that,” he says, clenching his jaw.

“I don’t think he does either,” I reply, quietly.

“My mother was strong and independent. As much as she loved my father she didn’t rely on him to survive. She was kind, gentle and above all things, faithful.”

“I’m sure she would be proud of you and how you’ve protected Clover,” I say.

He doesn’t respond so I exhale loudly.

“It’ll be nice to have a safe spot to sit and think about all of this,” I remark and rub my temples.

“Just don’t think too hard, you might hurt yourself.” He smirks again, attempting to break the seriousness of our conversation.

“Watch it or I’ll hurt you,” I reply.

He chuckles- the action brightening his beautiful face, the musical laughter bringing a reluctant smile to my mine.

“Ha.Ha,” I sing- mock punching his shoulder.

His smile warms as he looks at the place where I punched him and then back at me.

“First ones free,” he teases.

I laugh.

As the time passes the heavy wooded areas give way to small homes. The abandoned houses rest close to the road, displaying their apocalyptic charm. Plywood covers the majority of their windows and each one is marked with a red slash of paint. I unsheathe my other weapon holding them both alert as we pass. Without being aware our group constricts closer together, moving as a unit on the crumbling asphalt road.

“Lonnie, what’s the red paint for?” I ask. Jay answers instead.

“About a month ago, we ran a short scouting mission. Tom, Lonnie and I marked all the houses we know are secured. That way it’s easier to notice if they have been tampered with.” He points out one of the homes. “You see, one red line means we’ve already scouted the whole building- two lines mean we’ve also secured it. So all the doors are locked from the inside.”

I scowl.

“You didn’t think it was important to tell me this information before we left the prison.”

The twins glance at each other.

“Sorry, we thought Tom told you?” Jay remarks.

The knot returns to my stomach.

“What about the plywood?” I ask. “Can’t we use that back at the prison?”

Lonnie turns to me.

“It’s on the to do list,” he says.

His eyes skate over to Connor before turning back around.

“Up ahead is the city square. I know of a place for us to spend the night. We should reach the prison in the morning before lunch time,” he says nonchalantly.

Clover speaks for the first time in hours.

“Isn’t it unsafe to stay near so many buildings? The infected could be anywhere- hiding? Trapped?”

She turns to Connor with fear in her eyes. Before, Connor can say a word Lonnie speaks up.

“I have a friend who stays in the Church at the square. We’ll be safe enough til we get home.” he replies confidently.

“Why haven’t I heard about this friend?” I question as the knot tenses.

My hands tighten on the handles of my weapons.

“No one but Jay and I know. I came across him a few months ago.”

My voice hardens. “What else aren’t you telling me?” Lonnie’s back stiffens. “Lonnie,” I say flatly.

“Look, he didn’t want to go back to the prison so we set him up in an abandoned church outside the square. I sneak him a few things from home every once in awhile and he helps us out when he can,” Lonnie says.

“Can we trust him?” I seethe.

“Yeah, just as much as you can trust these other guys.”

He doesn’t have to say Connor and Clover’s name to imply them. Thankfully, Connor remains silent, watching the houses as we pass.

The cloudy sky hides the sun as we come into the city square. I halt at the site of the center courthouse. The building is the largest I’ve ever seen besides the prison. The brick is faded red with ivy running up the unkempt sides. The foliage creeps into shattered windows and reaches longingly toward the grand clock tower- the haunting clock forever displaying nine eleven with it’s heavy iron arms. A statue of a soldier stands with pride among the feral weeds. Trees surround the historical building like guards waiting for a command as their branches reach out, shading the beneath area.

We cautiously enter into the streets littered with old cars. The ruins of attached stores line three sides of the court house. An old police station rest on one whole block by itself. Weeds break the narrow roads into small pieces making it difficult to walk through the city.

“Am I the only one creeped out by this place?” Clover says aloud.

“All the stores have been cleared. Don’t worry,” Jay replies, unable to reassure her.

Clover steps closer to Connor. I don’t blame her. The uneasiness I feel with the lessening of daylight begins to weigh heavy on my chest.

“Lonnie, how much further?” I ask, wanting to keep my nervous energy contained.

“Don’t worry Millie, we’re almost there.” Lonnie lifts his finger pointing into the distance. “See the white church up ahead? That’s our destination for tonight.”

He proceeds to crack the bones in his neck. I cringe at his familiar habit. Looking ahead of the abandoned shops of the square, I pinpoint a small white steeple peeking up above the roof lines. As we approach, I decipher signs of someone living inside. The church’s small yard is well maintained- the grass cut and weeds pulled from the flower beds. A clothes line runs from a low hanging tree branch to the railing that borders the church’s steps. Wet clothes hang crookedly over the small rope.

“Bryan, you here?” Lonnie yells at the old wooden door.

His voice echoes causing my eyes to frantically search the area. Infected could be anywhere.

“Hey you wanna yell a little louder. I don’t think the infected in town heard you?” Connor snaps.

I quietly agree with him while sweeping once again over the buildings.

“We haven’t seen an infected for hours.” Lonnie stares baffled at Connor. “I don’t think they’re in the area,” he states confidently.

“Well, if not let’s draw them over here, why don’t we?”

Connor’s mocking voice is quieted by the creaking of a door.

“Lonnie?” I hear the questioning voice say before his face appears.

From behind the worn door a middle age man steps out. He’s small in frame but tall- just over six feet. Stubble covers his face and neck with grey strands speckled throughout his hair. His face lightens when he spots Lonnie.

“The prodigal son returns!” Bryan calls then notices the rest of our group standing before him. “Well now, Lonnie, you bring the whole town with you to see me?”

He smiles as Lonnie steps toward him.

“I thought you needed the company,” Lonnie replies.

They both laugh as they shake hands.

“It’s been awhile. I was beginning to think you forgot about me.”

Bryan motions for us closer after Lonnie slips inside.

“Come on in friends,” he says and opens the door wider for us to enter.

Jay stops at the door gripping the man’s shoulder.

“Good to find you alright,” Jays says. Bryan smiles.

“It’s good to be alright,” he counters as Jay disappears.

He turns back to us, watching our slow approach- Connor cautious as ever lags behind me.

“You came just in time, there isn’t much daylight left,” Bryan says, acknowledging the fading light.

When I reach the entry into the church, I pass by him slowly, taking note of his clean clothes and kind eyes. He emits a peaceful quality I’ve never found before in another person- an easiness I’m envy of.

“Thank you for letting us come into your home,” I say, a little more at ease with his presence.

“Well Miss the church turns away no one in need.” His smile is warm when he continues. ”You can call me Bryan.”

I straighten.

“Millie,” I say, reaching for my beret and releasing my hair.

“Nice to meet you, Millie. Make yourself at home.”

I nod when he gestures me inside. Behind me Connor remarks to Clover.

“Wish it was that easy when we asked her name.”

She laughs, attempting to hide the sound with a cough. I ignore them and instead allow my eyes to soak in the alluring beauty of the sanctuary. The low evening light shines through the stain glass windows giving the space a dream like appearance. Rows of cushioned seats face toward a small stage where a wooden cross hangs on the back wall. Intricately carved beams cross the vaulted ceilings accenting the ornate brass chandeliers hanging above the center aisle.

“I’ve never been in a real church before,” I whisper aloud to myself.

“I’ve been in a few since Clover and I started heading North.” Connor steps close behind me. “They’re all beautiful in a way even if they’re falling apart.”

His breath on my ear causes a shiver.

“You cold?” he asks, concern in his voice.

His hands enclose on my arms and start to briskly move up and down. The rapid movement creates a soothing heat.

“It’s a lot warmer in the sleeping quarters.” I hear Bryan say but I’m unable to focus while Connor’s hands are on me.

I feel myself being pulled toward a back door- Connor’s hand gripping mine as I follow him through the passage. I’m not used to these small touches from him. My eyes narrow on our hands linked together, wondering what has changed. If he notices what he’s doing or not, I can’t tell. Connor just acts as if it’s the most normal gesture in the world.

I’m lead through a narrow hallway into a larger room where signs for restrooms are written on multiple doors. It appears to be a small lobby area. In the corner of the room, Bryan opens another door to reveal a small room with an oil lamp sitting on a nightstand. A metal frame bed takes up the small space- the sheets nicely made.

“The girls can sleep here and we can sleep in the room next door. There are plenty of blankets and other oil lamps,” Bryan says, turning toward us.

“Where ever my cousin sleeps, I sleep,” Connor announces abruptly, dropping my hand.

The absence of his touch drains the warmth and comfort of before.

“Son, this is a church you can’t sleep in here with the girls. It’s sinful,” Bryan response baffled. “and besides, they’re safe here,” he continues.

Connor glaces at Clover then at me.

“I don’t care,” he comments, looking into my eyes.

I step forward.

“Clover will be fine. We can take care of ourselves,” I say, my stare pleading with him not to cause trouble.

He arches one of his eyebrows.

“Connor relax,” Clover replies, laying her supply bag on the floor.

I rub my hands up and down my arms venturing to recreate the soothing warmth of before. I fail. Connor’s steely gaze watches the movement as if he were a cat about to strike.

“Clover isn’t the only one I’m worried about,” he states simply.

The noise of Lonnie opening a door in the lobby distracts me.

“We’ll sleep in here, they’ll sleep in there,” Lonnie says as he notions to each bedroom. “but before we go to sleep, we can hang out here.”

He opens his arms wide as if showing off the large space of the lobby- a smile stretching wide across his cheeks. It seems the carefree Lonnie is finally resurfacing after the hard day.

“I don’t see a problem with keeping the doors open,” Jay says clearing his throat.

“There,” Lonnie beams. “Problem solved.”

He aims his mocking smile at Connor.
Careful Lonnie.
The image of Connor gracefully killing all those infected flashes in my mind. Connor just nods at Lonnie as if he could care less but I can tell he has other plans for a solution.

I enter the large lobby area and sit on the floor facing toward the restrooms. The carpet is rough and uncomfortable but I don’t mind after walking for so long.

“I like the idea of us hanging out here because I can’t sleep this early,” I comment, reaching up and grabbing Clover’s hand.