The Walkers (Twilight Fan Fiction)

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter 18

The wind whipped through my hair, deafening my ears and carrying my pathetic cries and groans away into oblivion, as Tobin carried me through the night at high speeds. I gripped onto his neck and buried my face against his back, but it did little to quell the racket. While I held on for dear life, hoping that I wouldn’t accidentally fall off, I reminded myself where I was going and why. Thoughts of Shiloh filled my thoughts, and I found myself becoming a bit braver. With a deep breath, I tightened my grip and waited for him to stop.

We finally came to a halt, and I had to take a moment before allowing Tobin to set me on my feet. The world was spinning, and my stomach was threatening to purge itself. I inhaled deeply, savoring the oxygen that filled my lungs, and slowly opened my eyes. Once I was sure that I wasn’t going to pass out, Tobin helped me off his back, and we stood there for a few moments before heading behind the rundown building.

We were less than twenty feet from the staircase, which would lead to the Walkers’ underground lair, when Tobin’s footsteps fell silent. Noticing the absence of his steps, I turned around and found that he had stopped moving. He didn’t look angry; he looked strangely complacent.  

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he answered, shaking his head. “This is between you and Shiloh. I cannot be privy to what is said between the two of you. Her words, not mine.”

I exhaled a breath I didn’t even know I was holding, and nodded somewhat absently. There was nothing overly shocking about what he had said, but the idea of facing Shiloh one-on-one was daunting. You have no reason to fear her. I swallowed all my nerves, nodded to Tobin, and with no idea what I planned on saying, I headed toward the stairs.

Since it had rained off and on, the steps were covered in mud, leaves, and some puddles of water. I sidestepped the debris as best I could, but I still ended up with mud on the bottom hem of my jeans. The metal door was partially open. Was she expecting me? I pushed it open and waiting for me in the main gathering room was Shiloh. Her back was straight as an arrow, and her gaze was focused on the fire that was blazing in their makeshift fireplace. The light danced and flicked around the area, casting shadows across Shiloh’s face.

As I stood in the threshold, trying to decide if this was a good idea or not, she lifted her hand and gestured for me to enter. I shut the door behind me and crossed to her. She was seated on one of the old, moldy couches, and I cringed at the crunching sounds that came off it when I sat beside her. The main area of the Walkers’ lair was exactly as it had been the last time I had been there. The ground was still dirty, the walls were still covered in condensation, and the odor of mold remained. I tried not to cough as the heady smell invaded my sinuses, and instead, chose to breathe through my mouth.

We sat there for a few moments, the sounds of the crackling fire filling the silence between us. I grew a little agitated waiting for Shiloh to say something, and then it dawned on me that she was waiting for me. Sure enough, as I chanced a look at her, she was staring patiently and determinedly at the swirling flames. Something told me that she knew exactly what I wanted to know, but she was waiting for me to say the words. No one would hold my hand through this. I had to go it alone. My heart started to pound at the concept of initiating the conversation, but I took a deep breath and pushed forward regardless.

“I know th-that you got your sc-scar during The Purge, b-but I don’t understand why you’re so...so empty. Wh-what happened t-to you?” My voice was shaky, but it evened out the more I spoke. “You used to be so happy, so full of life. You used to smile. Nora told me that you smiled all the time. What changed?”

While I spoke, I noticed Shiloh’s hands tighten into fists, and her gaze dropped to the floor. Her posture was rigid, and the look in her eyes was sharp and chilling. Had I angered her? Perhaps it had been a poor time to question her. My eyes found the door, and I was moments from fleeing, when I heard something that sounded like a sigh of resignation.