The Deepest Red (33 page)

He pauses as I grimace at the idea of cleaning out an unused room full of boxes. Each box contains old prison documents going back decades. Mr. Herdon decided he wanted to learn about the aged files incase any information could be helpful. I was given the job of discovering their mysteries inside the adjoining room to the furnace room. The more I think about the workload the more I figure this chore as a small form of punishment for not turning in my supply bag on time.

Connor straightens, a more serious tone back in his voice.

“I want you to practice hiding.” The unexpected request confuses me. “Hear me out. I got permission from Mrs. Emerson to let you off furnace duty for two days a week,” he says.

“Why am I hiding?” I ask.

“Because invisibility is part of your training.”

I study him.

“You think you could give me a little more details?” I ask.

Connor rolls his eyes.

“Just do what I say, woman,” he scorns playfully and receives a smack on his arm.

“Ha. I’m not doing it now,” I taunt, crossing my arms.

He snickers, “I want you to learn how to blend in, so well in fact, that others don’t even realize you’re there.”

I nod. I’d seen him disappear almost into thin air when we were in the red zone. It’s a skill worth having.

“So again, hide, blend in, do what you need to do to disappear but as soon as you are caught find another spot. I’m going to be keeping my eyes out for you.”

I nod again in understanding and begin to walk away. Without looking back I say sarcastically.

“Like you can keep your eyes off me without the excuse.”

I hear his laughter followed by a murmur of words.

Hours later, I’m head to toe covered in dirt. Whoever had the job last month of cleaning out the furnace room, didn’t do a good job. It doesn’t help matters that the boxes of reports and information haven’t been touched in decades. Dust and grime blankets the warped boxes.  I rifle through pages and pages of information. The majority of the files are of inmates who visited the prison back when this building’s main function was to keep them out of society. Each file contains their name, birthday, age and crime- general information used to help catalog an inmate. A small two by two photo of the person wearing the most brutal of all faces is stapled to the top left of each corner. In all the pictures they stare angrily holding a plaque with numbers and their names clearly printed.

I laugh when I come to a picture of a girl inmate not much older than me. She has a twinkle in her eye as she smiles brightly for her picture. Her long blond hair is smooth and beautiful. Her makeup perfect.
Wonder what she’s so happy about?
Under crime the word, Assault is printed.  

After looking at her fingerprints, I close the file and continue to alphabetize them. It would take weeks to organize all of them. Luckily, I had the time. I ponder how much trouble it would be to move all these boxes to the library so I wouldn’t be alone. Deciding I can’t take the tediousness any longer, I get up and remember Connor’s assignment. I don’t think Mrs. Emerson would care if I started a little earlier than plan.

I scope out my surroundings. I discover not many places to hide are available in the furnace room and what would I learn by hiding from no one. I glance up. Pipes and air ducts run along the unfinished ceiling. I imagine myself hiding in between the studs like a bat waiting for the night.
Nah, that wasn’t going to happen. I wasn’t that good.

I decide instead to walk around the prison grounds searching for ample areas. I sneak across the open field into the guard shack hiding in a closet with the door cracked. It isn’t too long before I scare the crap out of Tyrus and get banished back to the main building.

I manage to find my way into the cafeteria’s kitchen, hoping if I scare anyone again the unsuspecting person would be Evie, but she isn’t around. Max, a middle aged man with silver hair, our main cook, enters into the room humming. Hidden in one of the larger cabinets, Max isn’t aware of my presence and begins kneading a hefty lump of dough. I sit there pondering if Connor ever found himself stuck in a kitchen cabinet as a child.
Did his father search their home to find his hiding spots?
To my surprise, Connor and Evie walk into the kitchen. She laughs at something he says and nervously smoothes down a strand of her hair.

“Connor you’re so funny,” she says with a shy grin.

I lean closer, peeking through the crack in the cabinetry doors. His cockiness has returned in full force.

“Yeah, wish you would tell others that.”

He gives her a flirty expression. She giggles.
I think I’m going to be sick.

“Max? Do you know where I put..”

He cuts her off, “In the third bottom cabinet.”

Fear rushes over me.
Which cabinet I’m I in?
I try to recall but hold my breath when she walks toward me. I wanted to scare her, yes, but I didn’t want to get caught by Connor. She bends down opening the cabinet beside me. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

“Here it is,” she remarks cheerfully.

Evie hands him over a folded tin foil package. For a moment, he narrows his eyes in suspicion at the cabinets as if he knows I’m hiding behind their protective doors. The idea his gut would give me a way, can’t be possible. I control my breathing.

“Just remember to bring back the foil,” she says.

With a wicked smile, Connor leans forward hugging Evie.

“Thanks, Evie. This will be a big help.”

His eyes lock onto my cabinet but he doesn’t proceed further into the room. Instead, he places the foil package in his pocket and leaves the poor girl blushing in his wake.

“Well, look at that. You got all kinds of guys getting in line for you,” Max says, still kneading the floured dough.

Evie’s blush darkens.

“Oh, hush,” she replies, attempting to hide her smile.

Jealousy flares up in me hotter than before but I push the feeling aside. Connor and I are just friends. I repeat the statement over and over in my head and have to fight off a goan until both Evie and Max leave the room carrying trays of food.

Glad to be out of the cramped space, I race down the hallway to the furnace room to finish up my duties. I’m back only thirty minutes when Jay knocks on the door.

“We’re having a scout meeting in twenty,” he says.

His eyes enlarge at the mess I’ve made with the prison files.

“I’ll be there,” I reply, trying not to damage the open boxes.

When he turns to leave, my eye catches a piece of paper taped to his back. The phrase “I am the red zone.” is written boldly in some kind of black paint. I laugh at Clover’s audacity.

Twenty minutes pass quickly when I reach the gymnasium to discover sixteen scouts waiting for the meeting to begin. Lonnie sits propped up against a wall, alone- his face cloaked with annoyance. Connor on the far wall watches me as I enter into the vast space. His frown deepens when I sit beside Lonnie.

“Bad day?” I ask, aware of the eyes on me.

Lonnie’s greeting contains a sad smile and a slight bump to my shoulder.

“You have no idea.”

The memory of Connor hugging Evie surfaces in my mind.

“You might be surprise,” I say and glance to Connor, briefly catching his eyes.

“Alright listen up.” Mrs. Emerson says as she storms into the gym, her hair pulled back in a tight bun.  Jay follows behind her. “I’ll make this quick because we are closing in on dinner time.”

She gazes around the sizeable space mentally taking attendance.

“I’ve received a list of items from Mr. Herdon. Since majority of the scouts have not returned from the last supply mission some of these items are severely needed. The community is desperate for a group of about five of you to retrieve them, any takers?” she asks.

              Joseph, a man in his earlier thirties with chestnut hair raises his hand. Mrs. Emerson acknowledges him.

“With the threat of infected, is leaving the safety of the fences worth the risk?”

A muscle in her jaw tightens.

“Yes.” She exclaims. “When there is a need, we provide. It’s that simple.”

Joseph doesn’t seem convinced. Mrs. Emerson tries again.

“The group who retrieved the supplies Millie left behind at the creek only came across three infected. They were able to put them down swiftly and effectively. You’ve been informed and trained. You can handle it.” She gives Joseph a pointed look. “How about you be one of the five,” she remarks, daring him to back down.

He doesn’t and one by one hands rise.

“Okay, so our group will be  Joseph, Tiffany, Cam, Justin and Connor,” Mrs. Emerson recites.

I’m alarmed by Connor’s name since he was not among those to volunteer. Connor stiffens as she continues speaking.

“Meet with me after dinner tonight and I’ll give you the list and let you know when you’re leaving.”

Connor stands, gaining everyone’s attention.

“I can’t leave my cousins behind,” He addresses the room, barely containing his displeasure.

His eyes meet mine with a sense of urgency. Mrs. Emerson regards him.

“So you would rather take young Tessa and Clover out into the red zone?” she asks and crosses her arms.

“No,” he states firmly.

“Connor, I understand your concern. I do.” She pauses. “But I need you on this run. You’re the most experienced in our group and highly trained. I promise you, if you do this run then you won’t be required for the next two after.” Mrs. Emerson takes a deep breath. “Besides, you have to earn your way. This is the deal you agreed to in order to stay.”

Her words are a warning, hidden under a layer of self inflicted obligation. I’m surprised I don’t see any anger radiating from Connor’s skin, only comprehension of his new duties.

Mrs. Emerson leaves the room, dismissing us to go eat. I’m disappointed and relieved all at once to not be going on this mission so I remain quiet, listening to Lonnie and Jay’s conversation about the best areas in the red zone to search.

              “Millie.”

Connor lightly calls my name. I hold back a shudder.
I love the way he says my name.

“Can I speak with you for a second?” he asks.

I step away from Lonnie and Jay, sure that they won’t notice my absence as they dive deeper into their conversation. They have always been able to disappear into their own little world when the need arises. I follow Connor down the wide hallway and into a quiet room. The space is empty of furniture and people. Makeshift shelves line the walls from floor to ceiling.
This room should be locked.
As soon as the door closes behind us Connor begins to talk.

“I’m not going to tell Clover or Tessa yet that I’m going out on a scouting mission.”

The comment hangs in the air, reflecting back every horrible memory I faced out in the red zone.

“When you aren’t around they’re going to realize something is different.”

I study him waiting for his response but he remains quiet. I continue, filling up the space between us with words.

“If you don’t tell them as soon as they see you, someone else will.”

He nods his head in understanding.

“I figured as much but I just don’t feel right about leaving the ones I love behind.”

His soft expression focuses on me.

“Well, you can’t take Clover with you and leave Tessa. A month is too short of a time together to separate them,” I say.

He releases a breath and the realization that he too is separating from Tessa, hits me.

“I can’t take Tessa away from here, period. I can’t anticipate how she would react in the red zone. She won’t even tell us what happened to her before.”

I step closer to him and say, “She will tell you when she’s ready. Don’t force her.”

Connor considers me warily.

“What if something happens while I’m gone? What if I don’t come back?”

His words sink in, creating a hollowness in my stomach. I don’t want to picture a world without him.

“I know I’m not as good of a fighter as you but I’ll protect them. I love them. Clover and Tessa are like sisters to me. Plus, they’re strong. They can handle anything thrown at them.”

I pause when his hand slowly reaches out to hold mine. My skin tingles at his touch; the nerves rushing up and down my arm. The room grows hot.

“and if the prison is attacked?” he whispers, keeping his eyes on my hand in his.

“Then I take Clover and Tessa to Brian’s and wait for you.”

He nods in acceptance as he tightens his hold.

“You’re a good friend,” he says with a touch of sadness and releases his grasp.

I mourn the loss of his touch but keep my face blank.
Friends hold each other’s hand all the time? Right?
The term friend bounces around my head while the memory of him kissing me so long ago clouds my judgement. I yearn for the press of his lips upon mine.