They Will Run You Down

Thirty-Nine: The C for DC

Early the following morning, John was abruptly drawn from a deep slumber by the sound of heavy boots plodding into the RV coupled with the jostling one would expect from a floor on wheels. He lifted his head to see Edvin standing before him, looking surprised and a little embarrassed.

John brushed his hand over his face as he stiffly sat up in the bed, "Hey," he said, his voice scratchy from sleep.

"Uh, hey," Edvin paused uncomfortably, "Sorry, we were just worried when you didn't come to open the door"

This was when Harley woke from her sleep and curiously raised her head, seeing Edvin. She was quick to sit up next to John, pulling the covers around herself protectively and swiping the mess of tangled hair away from her face and out of her eyes.

"Sorry, Edvin," John apologized, glancing over to an embarrassed looking Harley.

Edvin scratched his head, "It's fine. . We've got food, so whenever you're ready, come eat," he said just before turning toward the door and exiting the RV.

Without word, Harley climbed quickly out of the bed and began picking up articles of clothing from the floor, putting them on as she went.

John watched her quietly as she pulled on her shorts and began to button them up.

"You alright?" He asked finally, sensing a tension he'd not been expecting.

Avoiding his gaze, Harley gave a weak smile and quickly pulled on her tank top, "Just hungry," she lied, before turning her back to John to find her shoes.

He found himself looking to the area of the bed beside him where Harley had slept, remembering the night they shared and feeling confused about her current behaviour. Did she regret what happened?

There wasn't much he could say just then as Harley speedily slipped into her shoes, picked Rebel up from the floor and practically ran out of the camper, seemingly unable to get out of there fast enough.

By the time John was dressed and made his way out of the RV, Harley was on the concrete floor sitting cross-legged with an elbow resting on her thigh and her head propped up with her hand looking utterly withdrawn as she watched Rebel devour some soggy kibble.

"Glad you guys made it back," John said as he approached Edvin and Taylor who stood near the truck, eating the stale cereal bars they'd found on their hunt.

"Almost walked right into a horde of Howlers when we tried to leave the shop. Had to bunker down for the night 'til they moved on," Edvin explained as he chewed his flavorless breakfast.

John nodded passively at Edvin's words as he glanced over in Harley's direction, still struggling to understand why he'd been given the cold shoulder.

"Here, eat," Taylor insisted as he held out a wrapped cereal bar, drawing John's attention back to the present.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the questionable food.

Harley was terrified, although she did her best to hide it. She and John had crossed a line, a line for which there was no going back. How things would play out between them moving forward was a giant, looming question mark. She felt unsafe. Her heart was out in the open like an exposed nerve with which even the slightest draft could inflame. Harley didn't trust herself not to fuck everything up with the endless bombardment of baggage she dragged with her wherever she went.

Perhaps she was only looking for an excuse to prove what had happened between her and John had been a horrible mistake. Pull out the splinter before it festers . .

Harley's thoughts were seized when from the corner of her eye she saw John walking toward her. She stiffened up and brushed her hair behind her ears, feeling acutely uncomfortable.