The Workmen

Chapter 3

"Staring only makes it worse. Trust me."

Keira was in shock. Her once lively home had become a desolate wasteland. All that was missing was a few tumble weeds and the ghost town would be complete.

The man's voice personified the despair in Keira's heart. She couldn't help but give him a sorrowful glance, one that he thankfully didn't catch. He had his back to her, facing in the direction she assumed they would be heading.

He let out a heavy sigh and looked up at the sky. "We can't keep stopping if we want to get somewhere safe by sundown." He finally turned to face her. Keira felt the heat rising in her cheeks as he gave her a quick once over. Most guys had trouble looking at her face for too long, but this guy hardly even blinked while performing a full body scan.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and gave him a questioning glare.

"You don't expect to make it to...wherever it is that you're going without something on your feet do you? A few miles from now they'll be too banged up to walk on. And I'm NOT carrying you," he answered.

Keira didn't like how he emphasized that last part.

"Come on. There's a boutique not too far from here. My friend won't mind if we borrow some of her merchandise."

Keira had no objections. Certain parts of her feet were getting blisters, and open wounds on dirt are always a bad combination. Not only that, but what little apparel she did have on consisted of a ripped tank top and a pair of rolled up white sweats that seemed to absorb all the heat that the world had to offer.

She agreed. The pajamas had to go.

***

The trek was short-lived. At least now Keira knew the guy wasn't a liar. It had literally only taken the both of them three minutes to get to the little shop. She laughed inwardly when they stopped in front of the place. She knew this store all too well. The sign above the door read The Modest Meed in bold lettering that always reminded her of fairytales. Below it stood a plain wooden door with no particular qualities worth mentioning other than it's intricately designed door handle. An iron stem adorned with rune covered thorns and a budding rose that appeared soft to the touch awaited the hand of any passerby.

Keira delicately ran her hand across it, across the face of the rose and the frame of the door. She kept her hand against the building until she reached the window and man. A slight smile glinted in her eyes while her fingers grazed the cobblestone surface. So many memories. So many—

She couldn't finish the thought. It was too painful. Every memory involving The Modest Meed included her sister. This was one of the few places they both shared. There was not much the two could agree upon, but spending a day at their favorite clothing store always sounded like the right choice.

Something solid hit her knees.

Keira caught herself from tripping over a fallen light pole. No doubt the impact made another fine addition to her ever growing collection of bruises.

"Ah!" Her hand instinctively rubbed her knees.

"Maybe I should carry you." The man didn't try to hide the irritation in his tone. She shot him a dirty look. After everything she had been through, hearing some stranger crack smart remarks was a quick way to set her off.

He turned around.

"How do you feel about walking on broken glass?" The question came out too serious to be a joke. A mistake Keira made sure to point out.

"That's it! I've had it!" The sudden outburst took her rescuer by surprise. "You have been giving me a hard time ever since we met! If all you're going to do is treat me like baggage, I'll be more than happy to leave you to your oh so important thoughts."

There was a long pause. Neither of them knew what to say, especially Keira. No one had ever made her that angry before.

Hating the silence, she tried to pry a response out of the man.

"Well..." she mockingly asked.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but shut it before the words could come out. He searched her face like that was where he would find his answer. Somehow his expression was calming her. There was softness in the stranger's dark blue eyes that she had overlooked. Something that was almost captivating. Almost.

Keira looked away. There was something hidden behind those eyes too. She could feel it; something intense. It made her uncomfortable.

"Look," she sighed, "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. It's just been a crazy day, that's all." Keira thought of how foolish her words were. Crazy was a massive understatement.

Silence was her reply.

"I'm really so—." Keira's apology was halted by her companion's unforeseen transformation. He looked like a whole other person. Just a moment ago she could have mistaken this man for a young boy, but now he looked hard, stern even. All the tenderness had evaporated from his face, making Keira doubt that it was ever there to begin with. Her legs impulsively started backing away from him and the upper half of her body followed suit.

"Don't move another inch," he calmly ordered, raising goose bumps on Keira's arms. Without thinking twice, she froze. She knew cold and collective never mixed.

This was the calm before the storm; the moment of gut wrenching realization. When the world fades away and horrible uncertainty sets in. It was a slow and agonizing prelude to an assuredly dreadful end.