The Deepest Red (30 page)

              Jay keeps me company as I walk toward my room. The wide hallways, ever winding, give me the impression I’m in a complicated maze. I never paid attention to the walls before but the whole building has become restrictive and constraining. The lightly painted cement and sage tile floor has me longing for the openness of the woods. Everything I encountered out in the red zone felt more alive, more dangerous, than inside the security of these fences. For the first time, the prison feels more like its definition than a home. I scold myself. I’d been yearning for these fences for days and now that I’m here for a few hours I’m thinking of leaving?
Insane.

Jay remains silent with his face a mutual mask. This is the Jay I’m used too. A strong silent type who keeps to himself. Even growing up I don’t remember him being as talkative as he has been the last couple of days.
Jay must be reaching his limit.
I take comfort in the companionship until the hallway to where him and Lonnie lives comes into view. It leads to blocks A and B with a few storage rooms and offices along the way.

“Tomorrow, we’re beginning a new training schedule. The plan was decided before you finally graced us with your presence.” He smirks. “First practice starts at seven in the morning.”

I groan looking into an open door as we walk pass. Inside the room, I catch a quick glance of a middle age woman sitting at a desk, writing.

“Do you think you can make it? I mean, I don’t want to mess up your sleeping patterns,” Jay comments, looking straight ahead.

I disregard his snarkiness.

“Don’t worry about me.”

He gives me one last look before turning down his hallway.

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” he replies, striding away.

I watch him wishing for the days when he didn’t speak so much- just nodded and grunted. Giving way to my exasperation, I make a face at Jay’s retreating back side. Sticking out my tongue and forming bull horns with my fingers, I’m instantly rewarded. Clover, who has hidden herself inside the entrance of one of the many doors, jumps out into the hallway. She lands right in front of Jay, giving a quick shrill “Boo!” He leaps backwards with a frightful start, clutching his chest.

“Damn it Clover!” he bellows, reaching for her.

With catlike reflexes and laughter echoing off the walls, Clover dodges Jay’s hands and sprints around him. She is so quick that she is halfway down the hall before he turns around.

“Gotta learn to lighten up Jay,” she shouts behind her.

Clover’s eyes land on me and a smile I don’t think I can contain appears on my face. As she races pass, she grabs a hold of my hand pulling me with her.

“Quick Millie! There might be an angry stampede coming!”

Another round of laughter burst out from her as I listen to Jay’s curses. I race down the adjoining hallway, hand in hand with Clover. A few people scurry out of our way when we reach one of the common areas.

There are two main common rooms that many of our community go to when they’re on break or through with their daily chores. This particular room now emptied of people, has two sofas, a few chairs and tables set up for games like checkers or cards. Also a large pool table sits off to the side. Sky lights illuminate the room with the afternoon sun giving the space a nice warmth. Clover, assessing that she is finally safe, stops running and lets go of my hand. She lands with a bounce onto one of the old leather sofas.

“Now, that was fun,” she says and smiles up at me, trying to contain her laughter.

“You’re messing with fire.” I reply, looking down at her. I venture for a stern voice but my face breaks into a grin.

“I can’t help it. One of these days he’s gonna laugh. Maybe lose that chip on his shoulders.”

I smirk at her response.

“Good luck with that.” I say as I sit on the sofa’s armrest.

The first genuine smile I’d ever seen Jay give was only a day ago and I’d known him my whole life.

              “So where is Tessa?” I ask.

Clover lengthens her arms, stretching out with a loud yawn.

“She had to finish her chores in the infirmary. I was with her but some lady made me leave.”

I watch as Clover settles happily into the sofa.

“It was probably the head nurse, Rebecca.” I comment.

Rebecca, who’s in her late forties with hair the color of straw, is one of the most strict about how the chores are carried out. She rivals Mrs. Emerson with her ideas of procedure which does not surprise me since they’re sisters. I feel sorry for Tessa. She’s probably stuck cleaning sheets and sweeping the floor. She isn’t old enough to learn much about becoming a nurse quite yet.

              “Who knows?” Clover chirps up.

I attempt to stay focus on our conversation.

“I didn’t ask,” Clover continues, “plus she let Connor stay. With his scowl, she was probably too scared to say otherwise.”

She gives a light chuckle. Her good mood is contagious.

“I’m surprised he let you out of his sight.” I reply, tapping my finger on her knee length boots.

She becomes still.

“I didn’t give him a choice. I figured no one would mess with me here.”

“They won’t, Clover. You’re safe.”

A devilish smile appears on her face. In the moment, I can point out her family resemblance to Connor. She leans her head back reveling in her new found freedom and security.

“I know and I’m enjoying every second of it.”   

I spend the rest of my day showing Clover around the prison, revealing to her the best hiding places and quick exits. Along the way, I’m stopped by Mr. Herndon and given a new chore list. They have decided to take it easy on me this upcoming week, giving me library duty with my father.
Maybe I can smooth things over with him.
I’m hopeful for us to come to an understanding or at least a cease fire.

              After hours of exploring the prison, we end up in cell block E. I’m not entirely surprised to discover Tessa and Clover are going to be sharing a living space together. However, the fact Connor has chosen a cell directly across from mine is a little unnerving.

“He told Mr. Herdon he didn’t want to be right next door to two giggling girls.”

Clover’s sly expression concerns me for what she isn’t saying. She coughs.

“Although, the room he originally picked was on the other end of the cell block. When Tessa let it slip you lived in that one,” Clover points to my fabric covered door, “he quickly changed rooms.”

I purse my lips together causing Clover to give me a knowing expression. The doors to the cell block swing open allowing a laughing Tessa to be carried through on the shoulders of Connor.

“Millie, look! I’m taller than you!” Tessa yells.

“Yeah, you are!” I respond as I watch a wiggling Tessa lowered to the concrete floor.

She runs to me in a wave of energy.

“Where’ve you been all day?” she asks both me and Clover.

“I’ve been showing your sister the ropes. She now knows all the best hiding places,” I say and hear Connor’s steps approaching.

“I thought you might be here. We’re about to go eat. You coming?” he asks Clover, not bothering to glance in my direction.

There is tension in his stance and a gallant effort of ignoring me. The attempt pisses me off. Clover, in her graceful way, jumps from the stairs we’re sitting and bounds across the floor to her room.

“Just let me get my long knife.”

“And why don’t you have it on you?” he asks as he watches her retrieve her weapon.

“Don’t start, I’ve a blade in my boot,” she answers from behind the makeshift wall of her and Tessa’s cell.

I continue to sit on the metal steps of the cell block. Tessa takes Clover’s place beside me.

“You coming with us, Millie?”

I shake my head.

“No, I’m not hungry.”

For the first time after entering the cell block, Connor’s attention shifts to me.

“You need to eat,” he states.

“I don’t feel like eating,” I say, standing up. I rest my hand on Tessa’s shoulder. “See ya later.”

She grins.

“Hey, where you going?” Clover asks, standing beside Connor with her long knife strapped to her back.

“Getting some alone time,” I say as I climb the cold metal steps and enter my room.

After everything today, I find myself just wanting to be alone. The light from my small window fills the small space. The room itself is about 100 square feet with white walls and tile. The bed lays across the back with a desk on the opposite side. Along the floor are small stacks of books I’ve borrowed from the library. A chest my father gave me as a child sits beneath the window, holding all the clean clothes I own. Folded and clean on my mattress sits my extra set of clothes I wore in the red zone. My supply bag must be tucked away safely waiting for my return. I run my fingers along their rough fabric while placing them gently back into my chest.

              I’m by myself in the cell block for only one hour when I hear its door swing open once again. The heavy steps sound throughout the large space. I continue to lay on my bed when the fabric of my doorway is swept aside. My dad’s concerned voice whispers across the room.

“Millie?”

I sit up on my bed.

“Hey, Dad,” I say as his eyes center on me in the fading light.

“You didn’t come down to eat.”

I shake my head.

“Not in the mood to be around all those people. They would want to ask me about Tom and I can’t right now.” I fold my legs beneath me. “I’m sorry about before.” I say, noticing he’s a lot cleaner than when I visited him earlier, his face freshly shaven and hair combed back. “I didn’t mean to argue with you, I just wanted to see you.” I finish, hoping we can put it all behind us.

He steps further into my room, bypassing one of the small pile of books I’d laid down on the floor. I love to read, it’s the only thing my father and I have in common.

“I’m not going to pretend that I’m okay with you being a scout but I don’t want to fight anymore. You’re old enough to make your own decisions and mistakes.” He reaches my bed and sits down beside me- placing his hand on my knee. “You were right. Your mother would have been proud of you.” Dad’s eyes glaze over as if imagining her face. “She always told me the real world was out in the red zone but that my books and stories were an extension of that world and therefore just as beautiful.”

I extend my arms around him, giving him the tightest hug my strength can allow.

“Thanks, dad.”

              Voices start to filter up to us as others I share cell block E with enter down below. Clover and Tessa’s giggling echo off the cement brick walls. Joy, the daughter of the Collins, laughs along with them.

“Chevy, give it back,” she shouts and Tessa joins in.

“Nope, it's his now.” 

Laughter erupts again from the small group.  My dad smiles at the noise.

“You won’t have a quiet room any longer.” He stands.

“I never did with Megan and David next door.”

He gives me an unsympathetic expression.

“Try to be nice, Millie. I would hate for you to have to move back in with your father.”

I laugh.

“Oh, I bet. You’ll get plenty of me this week. I’m scheduled to help you.”

He reaches down stealing the top book of one of my piles.

“I remember this book,” Dad says as he studies the back cover. “I’m gonna take this.” He motions with the novel in hand. “Oh and Millie, take a bath before you come tomorrow.”  

              Dad walks to my curtain doorway.

“You know, I was reading that,” I say.

He pays no attention to my outcry.

“Don’t train too hard tomorrow, I’m looking forward to spending time together and I wouldn’t want you falling asleep on me.”

I scrunch my nose in protest.

“I make no promises.”

Dad lifts the fabric of my doorway to uncover Connor standing at the entry. His hand raised as if to knock.

“Hello?” My dad raises an eyebrow. “Can I help you son?”

Before Connor can say a word, I decide to spare him some embarrassment.

“Dad this is Connor. He saved me more than once out in the red zone.”

Understanding lights my father’s eyes. He must’ve spoken with Mr. Herndon earlier.

“In that case, I’m pleased to meet you.” Dad offers his hand to Connor. “I’m Micah. Millie’s father.”

Connor visually straightens as he reaches for my dad’s hand.

“Nice meeting you, sir.”

My dad brightens at the term.

“Sir? Ah, listen to that Millie. I’m a sir.” He releases Connor’s hand. “Tell you what, I like you, come see me in the library when you get some time,” Dad comments as he taps the corner of the thick book on Connor’s chest. “I’ll see you tomorrow sweetie.”

              “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Connor tells me once my father leaves.

His eyes glance around the living space memorizing each detail.

“What do you need Connor?” I ask, still annoyed at him ignoring me earlier.

He runs his fingers along the worn wood of my desk.

“Looks like you’ve lived in here just as long as I’ve lived in mine.”

I watch him as he continues to investigate.

“That sounds about right. I grew up in the library with my father, moved here when I turned eighteen.”

His eyes widen.

“I thought you were older than that,” he says.

“Sorry to disappoint you.”

As he nears me, I notice a brown bag in his hands.

“What’s that?”

His eyebrow quirks.

“I brought you something to eat. You’ll have a long day tomorrow. You’ll need your strength for training,” he says.

“How did you know about my new training?” I ask.

“I’m your new teacher but please don’t call me Mr. Freeman,” he adds with a smirk.

I take hold of the bag, excited by the idea of being trained by Connor.

“I’m surprised they gave you extra food to take out of the cafeteria,” I remark.

“I had to charm a girl named Evie to get it,” he replies playfully, blowing on his fingertips and pretending to polish them on his shirt.

My heart’s pace speeds up every time he behaves like this. I enjoy the playful Connor who doesn’t ignore me.

“Please stop,” I mock. “The thought of you charming Evie makes me want to hurl.”

He gives me one of his beautiful smiles. If he used that smile on Evie, she didn’t stand a chance.

“Will you be training Clover and Tessa with me?”

He nods.

“Along with Lonnie and Jay twice a week.”

I grimace. Lonnie will not enjoy being told what to do by Connor. My thoughts revisit Clover’s expression on the sofa when I questioned her about Connor’s over protectiveness.

“This should be interesting. Can I give you some advice?”

“I don’t think I want your advice but I’ve a feeling you’ll give it anyway,” he says grimly.

I smooth my hands down the braid still in my hair.

“Don’t shadow Clover and Tessa everywhere.”

Connor’s steel eyes turn cold.

“It’s my job to protect them,” he says.

All of a sudden the temperature in the room becomes frigid.

“Is it your job to smother them too?” I reply, responding to the harshness of his velvet voice.

“It's none of your business.”

Connor turns to leave.

“You’re right, it isn’t but I care for them and for you,” I say.

Connor stands halfway from my door, not looking at me.

“I don’t want to see y'all hurt each other. You’re very protective and in the red zone that’s the best thing you could be but here in the prison; let Clover feel what it's like to be normal. If only for a little while.”

My heart continues to beat fast as he walks the rest of the way to my doorway. The thin fabric flutters behind him as he exits without another word. I mumble to the in coming darkness.

“Goodnight Connor.”

Chapter Eighteen

              The morning comes too soon as I make myself leave the warmth of my long missed bed. I sneak out of the cell block being careful not to make a sound. When I reach the scout’s gymnasium, the whole room is dark, the morning sun not yet raised enough to illuminate all of the large space.

              “It’s not seven yet.”

A voice calls out from the far end of the gym. Mr. Jensen steps out of the dark hallway that leads to multiple rooms. His long dreadlocks are pulled back into a thick ponytail at the base of his neck.

“I know but I didn’t want to be late,” I say, walking across the dim lit area.

As I near him, he smiles and gestures to my weapons I’d earlier reattached to my belt.

“May I?” he asks.

I lift the butterfly winged axe out of my holder and place it in his capable hands. Mr. Jensen flexes his fingers around the crimson handle testing the weight.

“Nice. I can see why you pinched the weapons.”

He grips the base, swinging the axe in slow motion.

“The red centipede huh?” he says, reading tiny lettering at the base of the handle. “I think Old Tom would’ve wanted you to keep them. Seems appropriate.” he says, giving back my weapon.

“Thanks,” I answer, placing the axe back at my hip. “Why are you here so early?” I ask.

“Couldn’t sleep. Not everyday you’re informed about an unimaginable disease which might as well be God’s last curse on the Earth.” He studies my face.

              “I don’t think God does curses. Why curse something you can easily destroy?” I ask.

Mr. Jensen folds his arms.

“Maybe this is his way of finally destroying us?”

“Could be or maybe he’s just bored,” I counter.

Mr. Jensen’s brows draw together in thought.

“You know Millie, a centipede is a carnivore. Some of the larger ones can prey on small animals and reptiles.”

I laugh.

“You and Tom must have hung out a lot together.” He grins knowingly.

“Tom taught me everything I know. He was something else.”

I force myself to recall a time I might have seen them together but nothing comes to mind. Mr. Jensen’s expression dims.

“I hope you learned as much as you could from him,” he says.

Our conversation is cut short by the gymnasium doors opening. Connor enters with a smooth grace followed by Clover and Tessa.

“And I thought we would be early,” Clover says.

“Hey Millie.” Tessa chirps.

Connor’s long strides eat up the distance between us.

“Hello Sir,” he says, nodding to Mr. Jensen.

“Connor,” he returns.

“Alright, Millie.” Connor turns to me. “Let’s begin.”

His voice is stern and laced with the promise of pain. An evil smile appears on his lips.

“What? No, good morning,” I say flabbergasted.

Connor retorts by raising an eyebrow.
Jerk.

The rest of the morning is filled with training drills. My muscles scream from the repetition. Punch. Kick. Block. Back Kick. Over and over Connor corrects my stance and form.

“You’ve got to widen your stance.” He kicks out my front foot, lengthening my stride. “There.”

Connor steps away from me observing my posture. I remain silent, repeating the words, I wanted this, several times over in my head.

During their break from chores, Lonnie and Jay make an appearance. They quietly observe from the abandoned mats on the floor, making sure not to be in our way. Connor demonstrates throwing me to Clover and Tessa on the larger of the mats. Bam! The noise of my back slamming down on the thin cushion rattles my spine.