The Deepest Red (3 page)

She hops to the next section of the path and stares down with a confused look on her face. She bends down to place her finger in the dirt like she is tracing something. It is then that I see the hilt of some kind of knife behind her.
Is it a knife or a sword?
I can’t tell from this angle but the weapon is strapped securely to her back.

This alone sends a chill down my spine.
What do I do?
She’s just a small child and somewhere in these woods is a guy who can cut you from end to end with a smile. I couldn’t live with myself knowing something happened to her and I didn’t do anything to help. A small threat is still a threat but is she a threat to me? I, too have a knife and just as capable.

No, I’m going to keep my mouth shut. I can’t be stupid, not right now. Old Tom is lying helpless by the creek striving to stay warm, waiting for me and I can’t fail him. Not at this. I continue to watch her from the shadows. The wind increases creating a frenzy sound of rustling leaves. It sweeps in around her lifting her dress away from her tightly covered legs.

The little girl gives a small nervous laugh. “Oh, come on. Come on. Come on,” she chants absent mindedly to herself. Her voice reminds me of one of the young girls at the prison that I mentor, Tessa.

The oldest of us always take turns helping the children train. I’ve learned after watching them to never underestimate a child. They might not be as strong as you are but they are quick and light on their feet. Every once in awhile Mrs. Emerson will take one of the very best under her wing. I was trained by her ever since she saw me practicing by myself after hours of training with others. I couldn’t have been older than five. Tessa shows a lot of promise as did I and more than that I’ve developed a soft spot in my heart for her. She has a high kick like you wouldn’t believe for a nine year old, that is.

My heart starts to soften toward the girl in the pale pink dress in front of me. I know better but I can’t seem to help myself. Idiotic, but before I can process what I am about to do, my voice whispers out to her.

“Go hide,” I implore. My voice carries on the sharp wind and I wonder if she would think me a ghost.

Her head snaps in my direction. She reaches behind her back and leisurely pulls out a gleaming long knife. It’s jagged on one side and smooth on the other. She holds the weapon in front of her in a basic fighting stance, her face pulled in concentration. Oh great, I think, she knows how to use it too.

“Come out, footprint, let me see you,” she says in a nervous voice.

For a second, I debate if I should obey then find myself rising from my hiding spot for the second time today. This has to be the worse day of my life. Her eyes immediately go to the weapon in my dirty hand. Holding out my knife, I wince at the pain that shoots up my arm. I don’t know if I could even win a knife fight right now in the condition I’m in. I scold myself. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

In the full moonlight, I observe relief fill her small features as she stares at me. A thankful smile plays on her child face; her eyes lighting up.

“It is about time you show up,” she remarks in a confident voice.

I stand confused by her statement.
She was waiting on me?
Wait, no she is looking beyond me.
I move to spin my body to face who is behind me but I’m slow from my injuries and stiff from hiding for so long. I haven’t even brought my weapon all the way up before he has knocked it from my hand- his knife already pressed against my bare skin. The warmth of his grip at the base of my neck sends a chill through my rigid body. The bark of the live oak scraps my back as the stranger pushes me up against it, trapping me with the weight of his toned body. I can feel the muscles of his chest against mine as I breathe him in.

Panic rushes in as I wrestle with staying calm. I start to remember my training. In an instance, I take my left arm and push the blade from my throat, catching him by surprise. Two of my right fingers find the hollow of his neck and I release all my strength into pushing him off of me. Dazed he lets out a choking cough but before he can regain his senses, I sweep out my foot knocking his legs out from beneath him. His body drops to the ground with a thud, followed by a curse.

I turn to run but his arm shoots out grabbing my foot and tripping me. My whole being seems to hurl itself onto the ground. Pain bursts throughout my arms and legs. The death grip on my ankle drags me through the dirt toward him. Twisting my waist, I position myself to strike out toward his face but he catches my other leg knowingly. With in a moment, I find myself trapped under him. His torso blankets me, his hands holding mine above my head. His face is mere inches from mine with eyes that glare menacingly into my soul, his breath tangling with my own. The unfamiliar man stares at me a moment- the strands of his hair brushing my face.

“I don’t feel like watching you smile as you slice me up, so don’t be too disappointed when I kick your ass,” I quip with as much spunk as I can muster.

He leans into me while one side of his lips quirk up, mockery shining in his eyes.

“By all means, I don’t think I’ve ever had my ass licked before,” he states matter of factly.

“Kicked, not licked, you jackass!” I scream into his face. With renewed strength, I struggle beneath him.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he whispers in a soothing voice. The gentleness I hear seeping in his gritty tone sends a shiver throughout my restrained body.

“Calm down. I’m joking.” He pauses for a moment. “You don’t attack me and I won’t attack you, unless you ask me too.” I stop my struggling to give him a death glare. His face softens slightly.

“You are kind of cute when you aren’t trying to kill me,” he comments. Amusement fills his expression, a slight smile appearing on his lips.

I’m made aware of his weight on top of me, his well defined muscles, his pretty face, his scent that encases me. Everything about him snatches my full attention. I shift under his weight uncomfortably. In my new position, I feel the hardness of him against my hip and my eyebrows raise in surprise. As if knowing what I’m thinking his face breaks into a beautiful smile. Embarrassment. Hot embarrassment lights my cheeks. Thank goodness for the darkness.

I observe a flash of what looks like a lip ring at the corner of his mouth. I recognize it from the few fragile magazines left in our library. The men and women within in the pages always had the most beautiful designs etched into their skin- everyone pictured displaying at least some piece of metal on their lips, noses or ears. I have always wondered what it would be like to have those hypnotizing colors swirling up my arm. I stare, entranced by the bizarre object and wet my lips.

A small cough in the back ground breaks our problematic moment.

“Are you done now?” The girl’s voice fills the awkward silence. “Or should I go and come back later?”

My blush intensifies on my cheeks as I break the hold he has and push him away. He lets me go easily with a light chuckle. I stand venturing to ignore him and hope the darkness completely covers my embarrassment.

“So this is why you took off so fast from the gas station, huh, Connor?” The girl’s tiny voice chirps.

“Quiet,” he barks at her from his relaxed stance only feet from me.

I can distinguish a hint of amusement still in his eyes. She smiles back at him ignoring his tone. Connor’s eyes narrow back on me in an almost possessive glare. I recognize now that this guy in front of me is not just dangerous but holds a certain allurement that I’m ill-prepared for. The way he carries himself reminds me of a villain in one of the library’s many novels- a redeeming scoundrel, I secretly wish wins in the end. His bright eyes travel everywhere and nowhere at the same time, processing as much detail as possible. I can detect vaguely that he is listening to the woods, keeping alert of any sounds which might be as dangerous as him.

His eyes sweep over my body, stopping at each one of the cuts on my arm. I probably look like a hot mess.

“So, does Ms. Asskicker have a name?” He asks, raising one of his eyebrows.

Oh, that is appealing. Damn it Millie
, I scold myself.

“No, I don’t and I don’t see how any of that matters if you are going to kill me,” I spit back.

“I’m not going to kill you, yet. I want to know who you are, where you came from so I don’t get my ass in trouble later on.” He runs his hand through his dirty hair shifting his stance. “We would like to make our way through this town without trouble. I can’t just let you go when I’m not finished with the area yet,” he says a matter of factly.

“Don’t you think killing me is going to get your ass in a lot of trouble with my people anyway?” I glare at him directly and he seems to brush off my comment.

“Not if I kill you right before we leave this territory. We would be long gone before they found your carcass.” He stands there observing my reaction, expectantly but I notice a hint of a smile hiding on his lips.

Wow, what a charmer.
I glance around to figure out an escape plan.

“He isn’t going to kill or harm you. Don’t let him scare you, either. Connor isn’t really all that bad.” The little girl chimes from in front of me.

“He’s just mad because you put him on his ass.” She giggles. “You’re not going to cause any more trouble, are you?”

The delicate child walks up to me, losing the hop like walk I had seen from her earlier. She trades the mannerism in for a grace only people born in the woods could master. Connor just growls and rolls his eyes dramatically. With a practiced motion she takes off the knife strapped to her back and drops the weapon to the ground, ignoring Connor.

Stepping slowly toward me as if approaching an injured animal, she reaches out her hand for me to shake.

“I’m Clover Robins and this is Connor Freeman.” I hear another grumble vibrate from Connor but when I glance his way his arms are folded in front, imitating a stubborn child.
Weird much?
I guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship.

I dust the dirt from off my clothes and extend my hand to Clover. She now has the face of an overjoyed team mate.

“My name is Millie Daniels,” I say with a wary expression.

Clover’s face breaks into a big smile at my statement.

“Yay!” She exclaims. “I’m so glad to meet you. We’ve been traveling for months and this is the first time I’ve seen another girl in forever.”

She is glowing with excitement.

“Calm down, she isn’t that great.” Connor’s deeply annoyed voice breaks through her enthusiasm.

I turn to Connor and mimic his bored out of his mind expression.

“So you’re admitting I’m at least a small percentage of great?” I aspire for the arched eyebrow but fail miserably.

“Bats are great to eat mosquitoes, doesn’t mean I want them around,” he taunts.

I ignore him and turn back to Clover.

“Where did y'all come from and how long have you been here?” I question.

Connor interrupts me with a condescending laugh. “Sure, let me confess to you our deepest darkest secrets while I’m at it?” 

Clover punches him in the arm. “Shut up,” she warns.

Connor lightly rubs at the tender spot, mumbling under his breath. Suddenly, his demeanor changes as he glances at the surrounding trees.

“How about we do this exchange later?” He asks in a serious tone. A small cackle burst from Clover’s mouth.

“Yeah, okay,” she states sarcastically. I realize even though I do not know her, I like her. We could’ve been friends if I didn’t plan to run at any moment. She seems sweet and innocent like Tessa, only with a faction of edge to her. She reminds me so much of my young protege that I find myself letting my guard down.

When I first met Tessa, she was nothing but skin and bones. One of the scouting partners had found her alone in the red zone and took pity on her. This must have been about two years ago now. I was working in the infirmary at the time they brought her in. The first time I saw her, my heart clenched. She was such a small thing, so young and so frail that the first thing I wanted to do was protect her. I could see where bruises speckled her arms and thin scraps covered most of the bottom of her bony legs. I spent the next two weeks at her bedside, feeding her and taking care of her before my shift in the infirmary ended. Afterward, I would come in once a day to visit with her, attempting to give the child some kind of comfort, but she just laid there not saying a word.

It was about six months later when Mrs. Emerson decided the patient was well enough to train that I finally heard her speak. Tessa was given to me to learn the basics of fighting and remembering how frail she was the first moment I saw her, I wanted her to succeed.

When she saw me take down my training partner by swiping out his legs from underneath him and hitting him in the chest with my knee, Tessa gave her first smile. She walked over to me, looked up into my eyes and said “Show me.”

After that day we spent two hours everyday after our community duties practicing. She got better and better with each training session and I loved teaching her. Soon Tessa began to open up and would talk nonstop about her chores or what she heard people of the community saying. She never did confide in me on what happened to her while in the red zone but again I wasn’t like most people. I never pushed her to tell me anything she didn’t want to tell.