Solacium

Ch 27: Damian

A few days earlier

My head pounded painfully as I slowly regained consciousness. The darkness fled my vision and I glanced around the collapsed warehouse. Judging by the dark room, it was still night so either I was only out a short time or I was out for at least twenty-four hours.

Only one way to find out.

With a groan, I shifted, moving to stand up. My head pulsed painfully and I tried to recall what had happened. My eyes searched the room as I stood, and the memories slowly returned to me.

I remembered the girl.

The girl with the blazing green eyes, and a fiery scowl to match.

At the thought, I pictured her face, glaring up at me and I bit my lip to hold back a smile. The moment I saw her hiding underneath the truck all those days ago, I developed an uncanny interest in her. At first, I wasn't sure what it was about her that was so appealing to me. Though the more I thought about it and pictured her in my mind, the more I realized that it was because she was everything I was not. Everything I so desperately wanted to be.

With the realization, I felt my expression darken as I glanced around the room. My eyes fell upon the chains that rested on the ground beside my boots.

She had managed to escape all on her own.

I checked around for my knife which was nowhere to be seen. That's when I remembered what had happened. I remembered the explosion through the wall, and her taking the rubble off me. I was shocked when she helped me, and for a moment, I believed that she might have had some feelings for me beneath that hard shell. Then, she put a knife to my throat.

My knife.

I let out a laugh, shaking my head at the memory. She had taken my knife, and judging by the pounding of my head, had hit me with the butt of it as well.

Damn, I really underestimated her, I mused, running my hands through my messily dyed red hair.

Being a lone survivor, I figured she was violent. After all, it takes guts to survive out here. It's not easy to do if you're alone. I would know better than most.

Ever since she gave me that death glare from beneath the truck, pointing a small handgun at me and my unaware group of Deviants as if she was ready to take us all on in an instant, I was immediately drawn to her. So, the moment I could slip away from my group, I began tracking her until I found her in the woods a few days later. When I found her, I almost couldn't believe my eyes.

Seeing her up close, I was taken aback by her appearance. She wasn't scarred or marked or branded, her appearance was unscathed as if it belonged to the time long lost to the war. Her image brought back a sense of nostalgia and longing for a life I once had.

When I tried to approach her, she immediately became defensive and aimed her gun in my direction. Fortunately, she did not check the bush that I managed to hide behind. Not willing to let her leave, I did the only thing I could think of. I knocked her out and took her with me to the city to talk. It was the only option that involved me getting close enough to talk with her without her putting a bullet between my eyes.

In retrospect, it was a poorly thought-out plan. Besides, it didn't work. She wanted nothing to do with me, and now she was gone.

Glancing around the rest of the warehouse, I noticed a body laid out across the floor on the other side of the room. For some reason, the body seemed vaguely familiar. Walking over to them, I turned them on their side and my eyes went round with recognition.

Steven...

Immediately I recognized the short blonde hair and burly features of my group's leader. He wasn't worth much to me, but he had allowed me to join his group when everyone else was set on seeing me burned alive. I had always seen him as a formidable person, with a strong frame and steadfast composure. Safe to say, I had never expected to find him in a state like this.