The Deepest Red (25 page)

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Authors: Miriam Bell

BOOK: The Deepest Red
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“I wish I knew more,” she says focusing on the massive cement fortress. “All I know is that at this moment I’m thankful.”

I watch two small children chase after one another. One tags the fence yelling “Base!” at the top of his lungs.

“Thanks Millie,” Clover says, watching as the two boys run back to a concrete wall.

Connor speaks up. “Don’t thank her yet. Let’s make sure they let us in.”

Tension grips his shoulders as he puts his blades away in one graceful movement. I do the same when we reach the sizable prison’s gates. A guard shack stands right beyond the border. It’s cement brick walls matching the main building behind it. A dark skin man steps out from behind a solid door. I recognize him instantly. Tyrus steps up to the gate, his fingers curling around the narrow metal.

“Well,” he drags out the word as if enjoying the way the letters sound on his tongue. “What do we have here? Jay you got us some fresh meat?” His eyes narrow in on Clover. “Went and found you a little girlfriend? You gonna have to raise her up first.” Tryus smiles a cat-like grin. “Young, that one.” 

For some reason, Tyrus likes to tease Jay, always has.  However, Jay never responds back, never banters or argues. I believe the silence only makes the game that much more enjoyable for the veteran guard.

Lonnie speaks up ignoring most of Tyrus’ questions.

“Yeah, we came across these two in the woods back toward Meansville.”

His voice is laced with amusement when he notices Jay’s reddened cheeks.

“They helped Millie out so we decided to bring them here,” Lonnie says and looks past Tyrus into the busy prison, searching their faces.

A few of the people stop their chores to watch the commotion at the gate.

“They have some valuable information.” Jay finishes, catching Tyrus’ eyes and holding them.

Tyrus nods in understanding, deciding not to tease Jay for his still rosey cheeks. He turns toward me.

“Millie, I almost didn’t know that was you. You get a new hat?”

The question annoys me. I want to be inside the safety of the fence.

“You gonna let us in or are we gonna stand out here all day?” I ask.

“I don’t think I can let that creature in.”

Tyrus motions toward Chevy at the metal fence.

“Yeah you can. He isn’t going to do anything. He’s a puppy,” I say getting more annoyed by the minute. “Let us in, already.”

I almost stomp my foot in irritation earning Tyrus’ laugh at my expense.

“Well, now red, hold your britches. I’m waitin on Old Tom to show up. He’s always the slowest,” Tyrus replies looking out toward the tree line.

Old Tom will never show. A sharp pain bounces around in  my insides as I announce, “Tom’s dead.”

Shock etches across Tyrus’ face. I imagine I hold the same expression of horror on mine.  A curse escaped his mouth as he launches into action. He quickly unlatches the gate and throws it open, allowing us to step inside, between the outer and inner gates. No longer caring about Chevy, he latches the metal chain back into place once we all have passed through. With a shaky hand, Tyrus reaches for the large bell located beside the guard shack’s door.

The sounds hurt my ears as the aged metal rings out five distinct chimes. The signal for our town leader, William Herdon, to come to the gate. Chevy gives a howl with each toll. It’s like he is mourning Tom even though he never had the pleasure of licking his hand. Clover sweeps down picking him up gently. She nervously runs her hand through his thick fur to quiet him.

“Shhhhh,” she says attempting to comfort the puppy. “Everything will be alright.”

He gives a small whine in her arms. With my attention on the puppy, I don’t keep track of Tyrus. Soon, I find myself wrapped in his big arms. He is an average height man in his late thirties- toned from chopping wood. He also helps police when needed but mostly he takes turns with a few others watching at the guard shack when the scouts go out for supplies. He smells of sweat and clean cotton.

“Millie, I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “Was it a heart attack? I always thought he would give out one day- he was too old for scouting.”

I push off of him a little, attempting to brace myself before I speak.

“No, Tyrus it wasn’t a natural death.”

My voice cracks a little at the end. Tyrus’ brows furrow in confusion.

“What happened?”

I’m saved from answering by our leader’s arrival.

“What is going on down here?” Mr. Herdon’s face is flushed when he comes to a halt in front of the inner gate- the long walk down to the guard shack causing him to be short of breath. Sweat beads on his wrinkled forehead. Mr. Herdon must have hurried out from behind the main building. He‘s older than my dad but I don’t remember by how much. His grey hair blows in the cool breeze. I’ve always liked him, ever since I was a kid. He would sometimes sneak extra blackberries to me that Susan, his wife, would pick for them along the metal fences. I loved the taste of them and would look forward to those months.

I escape further away from Tyrus and bump into Lonnie.
I need to work on knowing my surroundings.
 

“We had trouble out in the red zone. Tom didn’t make it,” I say as my body sags under the weight of my comment. I glance into the faces of those around me and feel Lonnie’s arm circle around my body, drawing me near. I let him but realize my mistake when I look up into a pair of grey eyes.

Mr. Herdon stutters incoherent sentences at the news but quickly falls silent.

“My friends, Connor and Clover, saved my life,” I continue glancing their way.

Mr. Herdon’s gaze follows mine to the new strangers then travels to Tyrus, who is leaning up against the guard shack. Tears flow down the man’s dark skin, forcing my heart to clench.

“Don’t tell me how it happened. Not until we are behind closed doors,” Mr. Herdon says in a whisper.

Tyrus sniffs then straightens abruptly at his words. I notice the wetness on the edges of Mr. Herdon’s eyes as he tries to withhold his mourning for his oldest friend.

Clover, catching Mr. Herdon’s attention, appears young and innocent against Connor’s stern stance- his eyes still locked onto the arm around my waist.

“I wouldn’t be here without them, so I invited them to come back with me,” I remark changing my attention from Connor to Mr. Herdon’s mournful expression.

I mentally beg him to stay strong in front of the cousins. I want our leader to hold himself together,  to understand, to not cause any problems. I want him to allow Connor and Clover in our home without issues and I want to go back to my small quarters and forget everything.

Before Mr. Herdon can utter a word, Connor steps forward and thrust his hand through the metal fence. Our leader peers strangely at Connor’s dirty skin but grasp his hand anyway in greeting.

“I’m Connor. This is my cousin, Clover.”

“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen someone shake hands,” Mr. Herdon replies wiping a sweaty hand on his pant’s leg.

He notices the fluffy animal cuddled in Clover’s arms.

“That’s our pet, Chevy,” Connor states as Herdon’s eyes roam over the small creature. “He’s a puppy and will be useful when he’s older. I plan to train him.”

I’m surprised by this last statement.
Train him? Yeah, right.

“I’ve read how they can be handy but I’ve never witnessed it before,” Mr. Herdon replies, gaining back some of his familiar gleam.

Connor gives a slight smile.

“My cousin is also very attached to the tiny thing.”

Clover smiles a wide and endearing smile.

“Who wouldn’t be?” she chirps in a child like manner.

I blink, wondering how this could be the same girl who sliced off the legs of an infected. Connor steps closer to our distraught leader.

“Listen. I’m sorry for your loss but if you turn us away…” he lets the statement drop.

We all understand what waits in the red zone. It’s a lesson I wish I’d never asked to learn. I can tell visually when Mr. Herdon relaxes.

“I’m sorry. It’s been such a long time since we’ve had visitors from the outside.  I guess I’ve lost my manners. I’m William Herdon. I help with organizing our small community.”

Connor smiles a kind and reassuring smile at him.
Who is this guy?
I gawk at them both. Connor almost seems friendly. I realize Lonnie is thinking the same thing- his arm tightens around me as Mr. Herdon continues to rattle on about the prison.

Thankfully Lonnie doesn’t remark on Connor’s attitude adjustment, instead he quietly asks me, “You okay?”

I step away from him when he loosens his hold.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

I glance toward the others. Connor’s smile only brightens at my actions.

“In light of you helping out our Millie, you and your cousin are welcome to stay for however long you would like, but anyone who lives here must contribute to our community,” Mr. Herdon says wiping sweat off his aged brow. “I don’t see a problem with Chevy either.”

He crooks his head to get a better look at the puppy.

“A tame dog is rare these days,” he adds curiously.

Connor nods his head.

“Yes sir, very rare,” Connor replies as he reaches out to pet Chevy on his head.

The puppy flicks out his tongue catching the tips of Connor’s fingers.

“Clover and I would be glad to help out, you just tell us what you need.”

Seeing Connor so respectful is strange. I didn’t think he had it in him but thinking back to what he had said about being raised like a soldier, I really shouldn’t be surprised.

“Alright. Tyrus open the inner gate,” Mr. Herdon says as he straightens and directs his focus on the twins and me, “Y'all take an hour, get dressed, get something to eat, whatever you need to do and we will all meet up in the boardroom. I want to know what happened out there.”

He backs away from the swinging gate as Tryus lets our group enter onto the prison grounds.

“Connor, you and your cousin will have to come with me. I’ll show you where you will be staying while you’re with us. Be prepared to answer questions today as well.” Mr. Herdon takes a big breath and continues, “It can wait though, everything can wait til we can all sit down and discuss this.”

Lonnie interrupts our leader, “Has anybody else returned yet?”

Mr. Herdon’s posture changes, the signs of fatigue and late nights becoming evident.

“No,” he says. “y'all are the only ones.”

Lonnie starts to say something else but Mr. Herdon raises his hand.

“I said it can wait, Lonnie. Here and now is not the place.”

He is right. Everyone who was working outside are now staring at us. Mr. Herdon motions for Connor and Clover to follow him. That is when the yelling begins.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Woooooooo. Millie!”

The excited yells burst from a tiny girl running down the hill toward us. She trips on her own feet blocking my view of her through the tall yellowing grass.

“Millie! It’s about time you shown up!”

My heart skips a beat. Tessa. I take off at a run toward her. I missed her so much and my heart swells at the site of her honey colored hair. She crashes into me, her strong arms encircling my waist. I bend down wrapping mine around her tiny frame.

“I missed you,” I say getting a whiff of her hair.

She smells of chicken feed and wild flowers.

“I missed you too,” she replies leaning.

She is out of breath but doesn’t care enough to try to slow her breathing.

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