The Deepest Red (54 page)

Connor withdraws, a smug smile etched on his mouth.

“Hungry?” he asks.

“No.” My hand pushes down on my empty belly wishing to stop a repeated gurgle. He gives me a narrow look. “Last thing I ate was the leftover vegetables we took from Katlin’s headquarters.”

Connor frowns.

“Get up. We’re going.”

“Where?” I ask, wanting him to rejoin me on the bed.

“Breakfast. We should be able to have a meal before the meeting.”

I huff, grabbing Tom’s pocket knife and clipping the familiar weight onto my pants. I know not to argue with Connor when his face slips into one of determination.

“By all means, let’s go.” I motion toward the door in a defeated gesture. 

We make our way toward where the majority of our community sits having breakfast. Evie and Max stand across from us scooping out servings to those holding empty bowls. Clover and Tessa run ahead breaking in front of Connor and I in line. Tessa accidentally steps on the foot of a man waiting in front of her.

“Ouch!” he cries, startled by the sudden assault. He turns and I recognize Joseph’s pinched face. “How much do you weigh, Tessa?” he growls.

“Sorry Joseph,” she apologizes sweetly. He smiles and ruffles her loose hair.

“If that is the worst thing that happens today then I will be doing alright.”

Clover laughs.

“I don’t know. You might want to see if your toe is broken. She’s pretty heavy.”

“Shut up Clover!” Tessa jabs her sister’s waist with her thin elbow.

“Have you been to check on Lola?” I ask, ashamed I hadn’t yet.

Joseph straightens.

“Mr. Jensen isn’t letting anyone but those working in the clinic close to her.”

I nod, in understanding.

“I’m sure he’ll give us an update at the meeting,” Connor comments.

We fall back into silence waiting for our bowls to be filled with the latest stew of harvested crop.

The hour passes quickly. I spend the time sipping on the hot broth and reveling in the warm sensation of being full. Clover and Tessa talk animatedly back and forth, glad for Connor and I to be back at the prison. Joseph decides to sit with us and joins the conversation every once in awhile as Connor draws closer to me. When my hand is free from eating, he reaches for it, rubbing his thumb across the tiny hairs of my skin. My breath falters. Several passers bys take notice of the gestures but decide to keep the knowledgement to themselves. I’m sure my dad will find me later.      

When we arrive at the scout meeting, Connor tells Clover to wait outside the gymnasium with Tessa so if he needs to give her any important information, he can quickly. Routine chores won’t begin for another thirty minutes so anyone questioning their presence will be more likely to leave them alone.

I scan the large gym, finding Jay and Lonnie sitting on a training mat. Jay’s posture is smugly relaxed. He leans backwards supporting his weight on his arms with an almost chipper expression. As I near, he whistles a happy tune.

“I see you’re in a good mood,” I remark, claiming a neighboring mat.

“It’s a good day,” he smirks.

Connor narrows his eyes but decides to remain quiet.

“You know what his deal is?” Lonnie questions with a hand toward his brother.

“Yeah. You should ask Clover. She can tell you every detail,” I say.

Jay’s smirk transforms into a rare smile.

“I’ll do that.” Lonnie says and stares at his twin, baffled.

Mr. Jensen and Mrs. Emerson enter the room with stern faces. My heart drops in preparation of whatever they will say.

“First, I want to thank everyone who volunteered for guarding the fence,” Mrs. Emerson begins- her face drawn in a familiar scowl. “We were very fortunate so many non-scouts stepped up to take shifts. This morning it was decided to install four more bells on the fence that we had stored in our reserves for the guard shack. We also found three smaller bells with handles which can be carried by scouts on duty.”

Her eyes lay to rest on Connor and the few others circled around him. I realize Cam and Justin have returned from Lola’s side. They sit beside us both shifting uneasily. Tiffany and Joseph had settled in front of Connor and I’s mat. I wonder if they were drawn to Connor much like I was or if the time spent inside the red zone together forged a need to be near each other in case of trouble.

“I want to give an update on Lola,” Mrs. Emerson continues. “She is running a high fever and has yet to wake up. Thankfully her wound is closed and we plan to move her outside the infirmary as soon as a secure room can be made for her.”

In front of me Joseph stirs, “Where is Bryan? Is he in the infirmary?”

Mrs. Emerson sneers at the interruption but answers anyway when Mr. Jensen  gives her a stern expression.

“He is also in the infirmary but two capable scouts are guarding him.”

Joseph is about to say something else when Mrs. Emerson gives him a warning cough.

“Now, no more interruptions until I’m done,” she relays a pointed look in our direction. “Since our visitor has woken up from being treated, he has refused to answer any questions until he speaks to Millie and Lonnie. Therefore, you two will be the next scouts to guard him. I trust both of you are rested and ate well after your mission.” We both nod in agreement. “Good.” Mrs. Emerson steps back relinquishing the floor to Mr. Jensen, who stands confident and unflustered- his dread lock hair pulled away from his face.

“Everyone in this room has been updated with the intel given to us by our latest mission. Unfortunately, we lost two good men to these cult members. I don’t need to tell you how much we will miss Carter and Daniel or how much their deaths will affect us.” He surveys the remaining scouts. “Jobs change. We’re no longer only scavengers but protectors. Our home is being threatened by infected and disturbed individuals who want what we have,” he states as a voice rings from the back of our listening group.

“They can’t have the prison!” the voice yells. Three others holler in agreement, their fist striking the air.

“Hell no, they can’t have it,” Mr. Jensen shouts- his words resulting in enthusiastic nods and snickers.

His calm returns as he unclenches his fists.

“When you leave here, begin to gather the others. I want to inform our community of everything, to tell them of the danger which is coming.” He pauses, contemplating his next words. “This cult will attack and we need to be ready. Every person here will be in charge of at least four others of our community. You’re to teach them as much as you can on weapons and fighting. Everyone in this prison learned the basics when they were young but their skills should be renewed in their minds and actions. The more of us who are prepared, the more of us who will survive to restore the damage to our home.”

“What is the game plan?” Tiffany says, gaining all eyes on her.

“Right now the ground is too hard to dig trenches,” Mr. Jensen responds. “However, for years we have been scavenging weapons and anything deemed useful. Many traps were found which would incapacitate anyone who steps on them. I plan to border our fence with them. We also have many bows and crossbows stocked up with arrows we’ve picked up along the way. I realize our defenses don’t sound like much but right now it’s all we have.”

“How do you know this cult is real?” A woman asks from the back. “I’ve been out in the red zone repeatedly. I’ve never seen an insane man cloaked with a bird’s mask.” Connor stiffens beside me.

“You’ve never seen infected either,” I remark “and yet we killed almost fifty of them right outside our perimeter.”

Shifting, I try to locate the person who would question Lonnie, Jay, Connor and me after all the events which occurred within the last few days. The crowd blocks her from my view.

Mr. Jensen glares forward.

“If you don’t want to prepare then don’t but just be aware I’ll bury your body last.” Murmurs fill the air in response to his cold words. “Everyone dismissed.”

I allow others to stir around me before coming to a stand. 

“Idiots,” Connor whispers, his hand seeking mine without him realizing.

“Lonnie, wait up,” I say, before focusing my attention on the man whose fingers twine with my own. “I’m going to the infirmary,” I say, giving a slight squeeze to his hand. Connor glances down, bemused.

“You want me to go with you?” he questions.

Lonnie bumps his shoulder into my back, causing my feet to stumble. Connor catches me.

“Tell him bye already,” Lonnie comments, irritated. Connor returns his annoyance until he finds the humor hidden within Lonnie’s eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” I say, low to where only Connor can hear.

He tenderly places a kiss on my forehead.

“Come find me before you start your chores,” he orders.

I allow a tiny smile to appear on my face before I’m wrenched away to face Bryan. As I walk down the hall toward the infirmary, the sensation of betrayal and hurt swells. I’m not looking forward to whatever Bryan needs to say to only Lonnie and I.

“You should do all the talking,” I comment.

Lonnie’s brows pinch in frustration, “I find it hard to believe Bryan betrayed us.”

“Believe it,” I reply.

“For almost a year…” his words fade off into the cold chill as I’m unable to comfort him.

              Lonnie thought of Bryan as a close friend- a secret friend but still close.

“If it makes you feel better. I didn’t see his betrayal coming either,” I admit earning Lonnie’s nod.

“I guess you never know a person.”

We are met inside the infirmary by two guards and Rebecca. Having known we were arriving to relieve them, the guards gather their things and leave.

“How is Lola doing?” I ask Rebecca, refusing to glance at Bryan’s bed.

She bows her head with a shake.

“The fever is getting higher. I’ve tried everything I know to break it but nothing seems to work. I even rubbed vodka and vinegar on her legs for thirty minutes- nothing.”

“I’m so sorry,” I say, wanting to offer her some type of solution.

Lola loved working within the infirmary, learning the details of medicine and remedies which Rebecca had learned throughout the years. I could relate to what the head nurse was feeling- the hollow emptiness which follows the realization you can’t make the problem go away, the helplessness digging into your heart. Tom’s face flashes briefly before drifting back into the corner of my consciousness. I don’t think I’ll ever get over the familiar ache left behind from so many deaths.

I walk to Lola’s bed, picking up her limp hand. Her flesh is hot to the touch, burning even. I place my other hand on her forehead. Hot- her face a sickly pale. When I brush a single strand of hair from her eyes, a thought surfaces. Something isn’t right.

“She isn’t sweating,” I comment.

“What dear?” Rebecca joins me at Lola’s bedside.

“She’s scalding hot with fever and she isn’t even sweating.”

Rebecca’s face furrows in confusion. I release my hold on her, leaning in to move the lids of her eyes upwards. The first eye reveals a clouded white, her pupil rolled up into her head. I reach, about to lift the other lid when Lola releases a ragged breath. Startled, I jump back.

“Is she suppose to be breathing like that?” Lonnie asks.

I spin, facing him with my hand clutching my chest.

“She hasn’t hardly moved since she was brought in,” Rebecca responds.

From the bed Lola sucks in another labored breath. Her breathing loud and unstable.

“You should kill her,” a voice says from behind a hanging curtain. I stride across the room, ripping open the fabric barrier.

“What would God say to your sudden acceptance of death?” I sneer at Bryan.

“When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written,” Bryan sits  up on the bed, wincing from his fresh injuries. “Death is swallowed up in Victory. Oh death, where is your victory? Oh death, where is your sting?”

“Oh please. Corinthians also says the sting of death is sin. You’ve sinned Bryan,” I counter.

Remorse filters into his face. In the veiled light, he seems smaller- weaker. His eyes still warm. How could his eyes still be warm after everything? Although I’ve told myself time and time again not to underestimate an opponent, I find myself repeating the advice two more times.

“Millie, I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

“You should save your apologizes for Carter and Daniel when you go to meet them,” Lonnie remarks.

Bryan groans, “Lonnie you don’t understand. I didn’t get a choice and I was told no one was to be harmed.”

Lola’s labored breath lengthens.

“I’m going to go get help for Lola,” Rebecca says. “I have an idea on how to help her but I need at least three other people.”

Rebecca races out the only door, leaving Lonnie and I to control our own anger poorly. I tighten my fists allowing the nails to bite into the skin. I use the pain to focus my anger.