The Risen: Dawning (16 page)

“Where is Kira?” He finally finds his voice, regaining his composure.

“She is resting. When you didn’t come back with Ramero, she didn’t take it well.” I listen to the bits and clues of their conversation that she gives me.

“I’m sorry.” Simon closes his eyes as pain streaks across his face with the thoughts her words conjure for him and I wonder who Kira could be to cause such emotions. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re here now. That is all that matters.” She answers softly, trying to ease his pain. She seals the words with a soft kiss upon his lips that he returns with his own tenderness.

“I guess we have you to thank for that?” She turns to me with her face still damp from their emotions. “Shelia.” She extends her hand to me.

Shelia’s skin is richer in color than Simon’s. Her eyes hold the beautiful depths of color that only their race can obtain. Those eyes are red-rimmed from expressing the sorrows she thought had come to call her heart home. Her hand trembles slightly from her frayed nerves with the morning’s events. I can only image what the fear must feel like to watch the one you love leave you knowing he may not come back and then to watch those fears come to life. I hope I never have to.

“Helena.” I answer, taking her hand. I grasp it firmly, letting her know the sorrow I feel for her. “Not so much my doing.”

“Yeah, she only chopped her way through a whole caboodle of dead peeps to reach your man here when he got left behind by his own. No big deal.” Aimes adds an ended point to her words with a sharp pop of her very pink gum. She has perched herself on the edge of my warhorse’s bed, swinging her legs, adding to her abundance of charm. “How is Romeo anyway?”

“Ramero.” Shelia corrects her. “He isn’t doing well either.”

“Yeah, guilt is a bitch like that.” Aimes smiles her “look how cute I am” smile, popping another pink bubble.

Shelia has no answer to another award winning observation of Aimes, so she does not offer one. Instead, she eyes the men behind us with curiosity and caution. Unconsciously, she steps back into the safety of Simon, watching those behind us. “Are they with you, too?”

Aimes pivots her upper body to glace at the group of men huddling together over the black frames of the motorcycles. Leslie is still perched on the back of Lawless’ like a Queen holding court. Her comments make the men laugh and they return her flirting with smiles of their own. J.D. has been watching us with Simon. His smile is forced and not amused by what he is seeing around him. I guess red-heads are not his style?

Now as we look in their direction, he runs his fingers down Leslie’s arm, proving to us how easily we can be replaced. Aimes calls his bluff by blowing a kiss to him and it lands its mark better than Cupid could with his sense of irony. J.D. frowns with a moment of regret upon his face, his fingers pausing on her arm as if they are touching something offensive before returning to rest at his side. The men around him, with their silent attunement to him, notice the shift in his mood. Their eyes all at once come to rest on us watching them. Rhett waves an exaggerated wave, with just as comical a smile, in our direction. Aimes returns it with a wave that would make parade queens proud. The kisses she sends him would make one swoon. Even Shelia laughs at the sight of such a larger than life man fooling around with our pixie.

I watch Dolph as he enters the courtyard entrance behind the gathered group. Adjusting the rifle onto his back now that he is in the protection of the high school’s high walls, he squints against the afternoon sun that is flirting in and out of the clouds, teasing us with its warmth. The sun’s rays catch the many tints of his hair from a dark red-brown to its hidden golden hues. His long stride tells of his ease in any situation, even as his eyes continue to glace down, before coming back to rest on our new groups.

His short head nods are becoming his trademark, signaling Simon with one when their eyes meet. Dolph pauses half way to us, making Simon step away and cover the gap left to speak with him. His face does not hide his suspicion of us and J.D.’s group does not help his assumptions. They are starting their own stare off with him as they grow silent the way predators do. Simon had hinted at this on the way here. Now the tension is simmering like summer’s heat in the space between our groups.

“Boys…” Aimes begins, before I can clear my throat to stop her from speaking whatever her little fun sized mind is going to spill forth next.

“Shelia, why don’t you take them and get them set up?” Simon asks of her, eyeing the tension brewing. To us he says, “Make sure your boys follow you out, OK?”

He does not need to place any more meaning into his words. He knows he cannot control both sides should egos erupt. He is counting on us to help him diffuse what could be a volatile situation with so much male pride on the line. As far as first impressions go, the men are blowing it. The other residents are now clustered into small fragments of groups watching it all. If social media was still available, I can only imagine the many updates this group’s would hold from their many highs and lows of this morning.

“Aye aye, Capt’n.” Aimes whistles for the rest of our once happy family. “Heerrree Attack Monkeys. Come on, Attack Monkeys.” She yells across the divide, using the term of endearment from earlier, successfully breaking the male angst with her antics. Dolph even has to cock one eyebrow in her direction with her title for the men. His body relaxes some with the humor.

Chapel breaks rank first and makes his way to us. He is as tired as I am of the constant posturing but unable to escape it as easily as I can. Yay for being a girl. Rhett and Lawless begin imitating the animal call of their new nicknames, jumping over the Harleys in their path to follow Chapel over. J.D. and Marxx stare at Dolph, sending a private male message to the other man, before following themselves. Leslie sits alone, and stranded, on the back of the bike without her court around her. They leave her without a second thought to make her own way to whichever side she chooses. It also sends a
very
male private message.

“Oooo, shanked” Aimes whispers to me as she jumps down from the edge of the tall truck. I smile, watching Lawless return to me, even as I know, he is not returning at all.

W
e follow Shelia into one of the many tall arches from the courtyard. Lawless and Rhett are still enjoying their calls to each other until a firm look from J.D. reduces them to silence. Like naughty boys, they still under his gaze. I find that more humorous than their zoo rendition and I let my smile tell J.D. so. He smirks at me, forgetting our earlier conversations, for the moment. It eases the fluttering in my stomach that is threatening to grow into so much more with the knowledge that I am about to enter another school. Last time it didn’t go so well. Not for me and not for those in my care for.

The interior of the high school is much the same color scheme as the outside. It is grey, dark and wonderfully depressing. No happy mascots of false cheer here to stare down at me with the secret knowledge of my sins. Shades fade from white to a silver-grey with a strategic process that refuses to form any real patterns but simple shading along the walls and tile floors. The tall windows are embedded with a crisscross-wiring of security, but the sun peers through allowing enough light to fill the hallways around the school. It is the only source of light illuminating these halls.

“Depressing.” Aimes whispers in my ear, not wanting to upset Shelia with her opinion of what may become our new home.

“Fitting.” Is my answer to her, unwilling to admit how happy I am for the lack of pastels.

The stairwell is behind heavy steel doors that require Shelia to lean into them with the full weight of her small body to have them open for her. She smiles at us with a shy touch of embarrassment at that fact. Chapel reaches over her, holding them open for us with a simple return of her smile. His six foot frame easily supports the weight of them and allows her to slip under his arms. I bet he was always picked first to play London Bridge in school.

“Thank you. Simon says I will be happy they are so weighted should we need the safety of them, but I can’t help but wonder about that every time I have to come up and down these steps.” Shelia’s dark natural skin tone hints at a shade of pink standing so close to Chapel.

Each one of the men bounces the weight off their palms as they follow us through, judging the logic of her words themselves. Rhett chooses a different test and swings the door back onto Marxx with the full strength of his arms. He and Lawless skip ahead a few steps to distance themselves from the man who caught the weight of the steel door mostly with his face. Their laughter taunts Marxx as he does his own half run to catch up to them, intending to repay them for their humor. J.D.’s simple slide of his shoe with his turn to look at them is enough to stall all three of them in their actions. Their laughter dies, leaving only Marxx’ glare to mark the event. What naughty boys we have.

“So how does that weight feel?” J.D. asks him with a dangerous smile that lets him know he is still watching. When there is no answer and the coughing used to disguise hidden laughter is finally through, he turns back to Shelia, waiting for her to continue with nothing more than his stare to let her know he is waiting.

“We set up the living quarters on the top floor. It makes everyone feel safer I guess.” She leads on, but not before glancing one last time at J.D. before turning her back to lead us further. Maybe she is having second thoughts about that safety concept now.

“Just what exactly is the top?” Aimes asks

“The third floor.” Shelia responds. Her smile isn’t meant to mock Aimes, but it does.

“Totally rethinking my shoes. How about you Hells?” Aimes raises her eyebrow to ask if I can make it. This is where I would normally point out my She-Ra status, but I hate to brag.

“Nah, Barbie here is just fine. Hers are all broken in. Right, Girly?” J.D.’s voice snakes its way up my spine with its pitch. He is gaining a gold star today with the skill of his hidden threats.

I do not answer him, but I let my eyes meet his with a silent answer. I let him know that I understand where he is heading with his hints and what exactly he is aiming to remind me before we are subjected to more public stares that will judge us. A thousand replies form on my lips, each with their own dosage of poison to be ingested, when Chapel’s hand gently touches my lower back taking, the sting from J.D.’s look.

“Don’t give him the win.” He whispers in my ear, using his own long hair to cover his lips. It must have provided a different appearance of what he did by the sharp male inhale from behind us. Maybe that was what he meant for it to look like in the attempt to cover his dare of overstepping J.D.’s lead. In his mind, J.D. holds grudges longer than Lawless. Thinking of how quickly Leslie was able to slither her way in, I am not so sure about that logic.

I let his hand guide me further up the steps to where Shelia is waiting with Aimes. Amusement dances in my friend’s eyes, confirming exactly what Chapel’s actions just looked like to those around us. Neither Chapel nor I try to deny or suggest otherwise. We allow them to come to their own conclusions and I smile up into his warm eyes, letting him lead me. Another imaginary line is drawn.

Each level has a landing that opens before a sharp turn up to the next level of stairs. Tall windows repeating from the floor to the top of the next landing provide light for us. The levels all hide behind thick metal doors similar to the ones below. Shelia offers no hints or highlights at what may be hiding behind each set of doors from our questions. Her job is to get us “set up” here, nothing more. I wonder how it would feel to be so obedient. Does it come from a secure level of trust or a deep feeling of security? Does it come from her deep level of love for Simon? If any of these are true, what does that say about me and mine as we constantly live with J.D.’s noose around our throats?

The third level landing is alive with layers of sounds slipping from beneath its heavy doors. Conversations of different pitches mingle with sounds of footsteps and even the pitter-patter of running. Laughter fills in the many pauses caused by lapses of words. There are sounds of children playing and I feel my mouth go dry with their laughter. Her laughter from my memories mingles with theirs, making my chest tighten with the sound of her voice. I am afraid of those doors as much as I am rejoicing in them. Feeling my nervousness radiate through me, Chapel’s thumb begins a slow, small circle on my lower back. There is an irony in the fact that the man they have deemed our weakest link is now my strongest rock. He will be the first man through these double doors while they stand back, having grown very silent behind us.

Shelia smiles at me over her shoulder. She assumes my reaction is due to anxiousness to see what lies ahead. She does not understand our scar rule, so I just smile back. I am still smiling as she opens the doors and watches my face for the joy she must feel with their set-up. The pride she must feel at being able to hold on to something when the sky seems to be falling down around them. I smile, thinking of the cabin and how we felt back then. I understand her joy.

The hallway is a long, hollow rectangle, keeping the placement of the courtyard in its middle. The many classrooms that double along each side have been converted into small apartments for those that now live here. The stairwell opens into a large sitting area with benches and many brightly colored toys are spread around in the space, attempting to encourage mingling with the many families milling around. Conversations slowly fade away as people begin to take notice of us standing here watching them. Replacing it is the hissing of whispers as speculations are forming as to who we are and the possible reasons for our arrival.

“Yo.” Aimes says with a little wave, trying to break the awkwardness of it all. She fails. The whispering only continues louder than before. “Tough crowd.”

“It has been a bit since we have added anyone. They will come around. It has been a rough morning with the possibility of Simon being gone. I am sure he will hold a meet and greet later after you have had time to settle in.” Shelia offers with genuine care for our predicament. I take note of the fact she doesn’t mention any angst over Leslie or Ross.

“Color me excited!” Aimes’ false excitement causes us all to smile.

“Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” Shelia starts to walk again down one of the long hallways, playing the perfect hostess. She smiles and makes small talk with the random people milling around as we make our way down the hall. They may hold conversation with her but they are silently staring at us.

“Really?” Rhett asks. “We do.” His smile reaches all of his face.

Shelia, with all of her love for Simon, still blushes from it. It only encourages him, allowing him to lean into her in a joking manner. A part of me knows that Rhett is not a flirt by nature. He will tease you. He will play along in any word game of your choice, but never one to openly flirt with strangers. It took years before the man would even acknowledge Aimes and me with more than one word or a stare. Now, he is dropping smiles on a woman he met just moments ago.

One glance at J.D. and my suspicions are confirmed. His grin is one of approval, not enjoyment of Rhett’s actions. She does not know it yet, but she is now part of their game. A game I am sure is aimed at Simon for his disrespects to them earlier. An eye for an eye is the only game J.D. knows.

Aimes and I share a look of understanding over their new plot. We both agree that we will only let it play out so far. Our reaching this decision to stand in the middle of their plotting, shows how far our group is rebuilding around a new rulebook. The days of us both smiling and nodding, along with being “his girls” at Grit, have flipped as simply as one would change the many months of a calendar and we are no longer the pin-ups for him to visually enjoy. Now winter is upon us and our souls are cold from the bitterness it has brought.

“Soooo, where are we heading?” Aimes slides between Shelia and Rhett with complete innocence of demeanor. She takes the space between them completely, giving Shelia pause at the meaning of it. Aimes smiles at her, trying to put her nervousness at rest. I think the woman is just prone to nervousness. Wait until she sees the real Rhett.

“We have some spare rooms up towards the end. I don’t know how you want to divide it up…” Shelia leaves off with her confusion over who goes where with whom. I don’t think we even know that little fact at this point.

Conversation lapses the rest of the way to our new rooms with the question hanging in the air around us. Only Shelia’s glances, trying to figure out our many details, holds any form of a language exchange. We are all blank faces, making it a one sided conversation for her. Those are never fun.

“Well, here we are. The desks have all been removed and small cots put in their places. The rooms right now have three each. I am sure we can find more if needed.” She does not try to hide her nerves anymore. We aren’t exactly shocked either.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. We can do the math and figure it all out.” Rhett smiles again, letting it reach all the way to his toes as he rubs her shoulders. It works. She smiles before correcting herself, glancing at Aimes to express her apology for her actions.

Aimes is not playing along anymore and Shelia walks away unsure of what to do to appease her.

“Darling? Really?” Aimes waits until she is out of earshot to call his bluff.

“What? I can’t be friendly?” Rhett has brought down the wattage of his smile back to his genuine mischievous look. “Maybe I like a little milk chocolate.”

“Oh, just stop. I’m gonna be sick.” Aimes covers her mouth, and with the best acting skills, pretends being ill. “Just the thought of you being all romantic is super creepy. Like bloody valentine creepy. And a shoulder rub? Really?”

“Wasn’t a virgin before all this started, Sweetheart.” Rhett cocks one eyebrow to match his smirk.

“Yeah, but you weren’t dating them either.” She lets the words hit home, projecting her idea of his sex life.

“Maybe I just never found a girl worth going a second round. Much less, one to make me want to keep her around afterward.” He shrugs at her, with the false feelings of loneliness, making his statement that much more comical.

“Very romantic Rhett. Very.” Her eye roll is anything but false but still as comical. “Who is going where, and guess who my vote doesn’t lie with?”

“The girls will go in one room leaving Marxx, Rhett, Lawless and me in this one. One of us will keep switching off to keep watch.” J.D. answers her, watching as the meaning sinks in. Chapel does not even flinch but stays blank. It is my turn now to come to his rescue. I am not sure how well of a rock I will make but I am going to try.

“Have I ever told you, Chap, how I can’t sleep unless I have something to hold?” I let my body slide against his when I walk past him into our room. My voice lowers to that of a purr the years of working behind the bar has taught me. His eyes follow my movement with a heat I have never seen him hold before.

“No. You haven’t.” His voice is thick. It fills the hallway with male hopes and needs.

“Oh, it’s true. She is quite the screamer at night.” Aimes drops her voice to match his pitch, sliding along his back with her body, letting her words carry a double meaning to peak the needs of those watching us. “We just love big, strong arms around us to keep us safe and sound.”