The Deepest Red (8 page)

He motions for me to come forward with his left hand.

Without thinking, I lunge for him with a right handed punch. He deflects the onslaught and shifts to the side.

“Whoa girl, try to study your opponent a little before you throw yourself into the fight,” he scolds.

“Who are you my teacher?” I sneer, burying the memory of Tom lecturing me on the importance of clean socks.

I lash out again but again Connor diverts my advance.

“Not with your form, Red. Who trained you?” He asks with a steady breath.

Pain from his block shoots up my arm and settles in the muscle.

”Don’t call me Red!” I roar, ignoring his question.

I decide to aim a toe kick to the inside of his thigh, but he lifts his leg blocking me with his knee.

“Good, but I can see your intent coming a mile away.”

Annoyance pulses through my body and releases itself with a combination of punches. I strike out at his stomach, his chest, waist, and even his face, but all of my advances are blocked with a smooth combat grace. He’s unbelievably frustrating which I express in a loud growl. It’s as if he senses where I’m going to strike before I do. My breath comes heavier with each intake.

“Combinations are decent but you are drawing back with every punch,” Connor informs, switching into an instructor instead of an opponent. He blocks my advancement again, holding up one finger as if to say “Wait.” He surveys me with a stern appearance. I breathe heavily. 

“Come straight out and use your hip for power,” he demonstrates a punch as I watch bemused.

Connor drops his pretenses and reaches out for my fist. Grabbing it, he extends my arm out showing me just how to throw the punch. I blink at him in shock.
What the hell is he doing?
I kick out my leg and sweep his legs out from underneath him. He flies back onto the dirt covered ground breaking his fall with his forearms. Connor lays motionless for a moment staring at the tops of the trees. A squirrel rustles somewhere among the leaves and I realize some of the pressure on my chest has lifted slightly.

“I can throw a punch, idiot.” I say in a sharp tone.

My irritation ebbs a small faction. I’m about to take a step toward him when he groans out.

“My mistake,” he glances at me as I take position in a fighting stance Mrs. Emerson had drilled into me. “Also, never let your guard down, some people take advantage,” he instructs, picking up my discarded hat and waving it like a peace flag in the air above him.

Connor then does something I never thought I would witness. He laughs. The deep sultry sound  like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It fills my ears like a beautiful song and for some reason I wish he would have the opportunity to laugh more often. My infuriation drains away from me with each note of his musical laughter. In the end, though, with out my anger as a crutch, I’m left weary and embarrassed.

“What’s wrong with me?” I call out into the trees surrounding us.

A small bird takes off in flight from a nearby branch.

“You’re in shock and having issues coping.” Connor answers from the ground, tossing my hat away.

I stand above him and examine his features. My fit of anger and stupidity hadn’t harmed him in the slightest. He smirks until he recognizes an emotion displayed on my face.

“Sorry for that,” I whisper, making a motion toward him. 

He sits up in the dirt as I endeavor to hide my childish embarrassment by not meeting his eyes.

“No, serves me right. I knew better,” he says.

I collapse on the dirt beside him, bringing my legs into a hug. A sense of loneliness creeps over my skin, as images of Tom’s blood flowing down the creek races to the front of my mind. With the absence of anger, all the pieces of sorrow from before settle back into their hollowed out sections. A sudden all consuming want for this pretty boy to hold me, consumes my thoughts. It won’t happen even though I’m aware of his changed position- his body ever so close to mine. If I just stretch my legs, I could get a sample of the touch I crave.

“Distracting enough for you?” he asks.

I nod not fully understanding his meaning. He clarifies.

“Sparing?”

My eyes follow the pathway laid out in front of us.

“Yeah. I know what you meant,” I reply.

“You don’t have to be so distant,” he remarks.

“This coming from the guy who said he would kill me?”

“I didn’t say I would kill you, only implied I’m capable.”

I snort.

“I’m so glad we cleared that up,” I say, avoiding his gaze.

“I couldn’t hurt you and I think you know that,” Connor murmurs.

I ignore the unsteady beat of my heart that his words inflict.

“I don’t know anything anymore. Everything I thought or imagined about this place is wrong. Tom’s gone and my mind is one giant confused mess.”

I turn to him losing my words as soon as my eyes meet his. He studies me as I study him- his eyes a softer grey than before. Then Connor considers how close we are. He leans back, crossing his legs and allows me a tad more space.

“Give it time. Your head will clear up and you’ll learn the truth about this place you call “the red zone.”  

“I hope so. “ I pause. “Maybe if I felt more prepared, it would help.”

I glance away and wipe a tiny ant off my arm.

“I can train you while you’re out here with us. Give you a little more perspective on fighting.” I listen as I squash a larger ant on my knee. “A different point of view always helps to build your skills,” he comments. I perceive his eyes studying the back of my head but I remain quiet. “We’re not going to hold you prisoner Millie.” Connor pauses for a long time contemplating my silence. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have acted like I did,” he apologizes. I remain quiet hoping he will fill up the silence with more of his words. “I wasn’t expecting you. I was ready for drifters or the infected but not you,” he pauses. “Clover is the only family I’ve got left and I will do anything to protect her even act like an ass to make sure strangers don’t get any ideas.”

He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t think you would hurt her,” he says with a gentle voice. ”When she had her outburst earlier you didn’t even make a move toward her. You can get angry with me but with her, I doubt it.”

Connor was right, of course. Earlier, when Clover had gotten angry, the thought of fighting her never crossed my mind. I would’ve allowed her to beat me with her fist if it made her happy. How strange, the way I react. I continue to be baffled by my own thoughts and actions but one thing I did understand was Clover was more deadly than she looked. For some unknown reason that fun fact didn’t matter. My thoughts turn to Tessa and I imagine her in one of her temper tantrums. The episodes were more cute than anything else.
When I make it back home I should really read one of the library’s psychology books maybe then I can sort through the way my brain functioned.

I turn my head to glance at Connor behind me only to find him with a strand of my hair curling around his finger. He drops it quickly when he realizes I’m watching. I notice a little bit of pink surfacing through the mud and dirt on his cheeks. With a cough, he darts his eyes away from mine sitting up straighter. My stomach squeezes a little as my heart flutters at the hidden gesture. We stay sitting silently on the rocky ground for a time, just watching the woods together.

“Tom was the man we buried today. He was my scouting partner.” Sadness clenches me tightly. “I didn’t realize he had become a good friend. So I’m a little surprised at the grief,” I confess.

Unable to stop, the first tear slides down my cheeks.

”It’s my first time out in the red zone. He’d gotten hurt by mistake, something so stupid as to watch where you step.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath. “Tom was too old to be out here but he insisted on being my mentor. I agreed because he trained my mother.” My words halt in my throat, not wanting to reveal anything else so personal.

Another tear follows the first.

“Anyway, when you found me I was in the process of getting supplies to take back to him. His leg was broken and he had a few bad gashes.” I pause again before continuing. “I failed him. I didn’t know about the infected. I thought I was ready to be out here but I’m not sure anymore,” I finish.

I was babbling, I knew it, but after I said the words “I’m not ready” out loud, I realized they were true. Why else would I act the way I have been? I turn slightly away from Connor trying to hide the fact I’m wiping tears from my cheeks. The sniffle that escapes me, I think, clues him in.

“This place is cruel,” he states, tracing a touch down my side, the pressure so light I may not have felt the caress if I wasn’t so aware of him. “But you will be okay now.”

I hug my legs tighter to me and allow a few more streams of tears to travel down my cheeks. I wipe them away quickly. I hadn’t wanted him to witness me cry but now that I’ve started I can’t stop. I sit quietly letting more and more tears surface. I think of Tom and being out here alone. I think of home and the security the community brings and finally I think of my mother. My only memory of her replays in my mind- her long red hair brushing my face as she leans over to kiss my forehead, her silver necklace gleaming in the light as the chain dangles from her thin neck. Her face is fuzzy in the memory, no details visible I can cling too. I wonder if I’d imagined it all.

I attempt to calm myself down after a while and rethink my situation. Other scouting teams from the prison are out here in the red zone but they had all traveled north except one, the twin brothers, Lonnie and Jay. They were experienced and only a few years older than me. I was close friends with Lonnie but Jay never seemed to like me much. They had been in the red zone countless of times and could be anywhere. Lonnie should have warned me about this place. He should have told me about the infected. He must have known. Right now, I would give anything just to see him or Jay come strolling through these trees. I’m pretty sure I can find my way back home by myself but at the moment the prison feels like a far off memory.

“Sorry, I didn’t get to you in time,” Connor’s voice breaks my internal struggle.

“What?” I say and steal a glance in his direction.

He’s staring off into the trees with a blank expression.

“I doubt your mentor knew about the infected. I had thought about this earlier and I’ve come to the conclusion the small mountains south of here keeps the stray infected out of the area,” he says, his hands gripping a short tree branch. “They seem not to like the extra effort it takes to hike up the steep hills. The journey takes a toll on their already rotting bodies.”

He breaks the thin stem and tosses a piece to the ground.

“Even so,” I say “you think at least one infected could find it’s way to our community.”

Connor ponders this, rubbing his fingers along the rough texture of the pine branch.

“About 10 miles back south, I found a guy that had snapped one of his leg bones trying to make the trip. I killed him as he was crawling over a dead tree.” He pauses. “This is the only area that isn’t crawling with them. It’s the only reason we’ve stayed as long as we have.”

He drops the remaining stem.

“We’ve come across maybe twenty tracks as Clover and I’ve scoured the old houses. I haven’t been able to track and kill them all. You gonna need to inform your people if they haven’t already met one.”

“Why are they here?” I ask as I search his grey eyes.

The unusual color is so captivating I find myself breathless. I lean toward him unable to stop myself. I yearn for his touch, for his embrace and his words telling me I can trust him and everything will be alright. I blame my loneliness and inexperience for my actions. Meeting him for the first time has taught me the taste of fear but also of desire. I want his presence to erase the worry of the infected and finding my way back home. If I could just have one kiss then maybe this ache would cease to exist. His eyes knowledge the change in my body language but I don’t see a smirk like I would expect from him- not this time. Only the spark of what I can only guess is longing in his stormy eyes. He leans toward me, hand reaching toward my face.

“We should leave the question for when we settle into our campsite tonight.” Clover’s voice surprises me out of my trance.

I stumble to my feet, breaking any moment I had with Connor. I wipe the dirt from my clothes, waiting for the color of my cheeks to return back to normal.

“Hey cousin. Feeling better?” Connor squibs from his seated position.

“Probably not as good as you,” she replies.

I listen to the sounds of Connor standing and dusting off his clothing.

“As long as you’re not  still angry, that’s all that matters,” he teases. 

I hear the smile in his voice and turn. Clover’s face is a mask of indifference but a current of attitude races just underneath her skin. When I study her, I realize she is just like me, both stuck in this world of fears and obstacles. She had been thrilled to meet me, excited for a female companion. Now I worry that I’m not able to meet her expectations, that one day she will regret our friendship.

The loneliness I felt before surfaces as I outstretch my arms and embrace her. I take from her some of the comfort and companionship I need. Scenting the perfume of her skin, my arms lock around her shoulders. She smells of sweat and freshly cut grass. The aroma invades my nose and sends a calming effect through me. Clover’s body stiffens against my arms but I don’t let go. I gradually feel her relax and in a moment her arms fold around my waist.