The Shallow Places (ON HOLD)

Chapter Nine

"We need to talk," Zane said, after stepping onto the back porch. He was overlooking the lake in the distance as he said this.

I joined him on the porch and waited for him to speak first. He didn't. He looked...shaken. Thoughtful. There was something about his expression that was just knowing. He turned his gaze on me, and his face changed. His deep eyes were cold now, irritated and annoyed.

Zane opened his mouth to speak, "Look. I don't mean to be rude, but I think you need to leave."

My jaw dropped, "What?"

He took a step forward and raised his hands to his lips, "It's not you."

I rolled my eyes, "That's not true."

"Okay, it is you, but not for the reason you think. Eli's dying. The last thing he needs right now is more stress."

I just gaped at him for the longest time. How dare he say I was stressful? If anyone was going to stress Eli out, it would be Zane. He was stressful.

I hated Zane, I realized in that moment. He was rude, arrogant, self-centered, and had no regard for anybody but himself. He didn't care about Eli's health. He cared about how many mouths he had to feed, having to scrape up spare supplies and weapons, or having enough rooms for everybody. But he especially cared about trust. The last thing he wanted was some idiot who would make a reckless mistake and endanger his life, but what he didn't realize was that I was no idiot. He desperately needed to check to see if he was clean, before pointing fingers.

"Excuse me?" I asked, "I am not stressful. Eli likes my company, and I'm not leaving."

"Well, this is my house and what I say goes," he snapped. We were centimeters apart now, and his breath was hot on my face. His stare was burning holes through my head.

"Fine. I'll go, but only if Eli wants me to," I said matter-of-factly. I felt a small victory as he backed away, his jaw set.

"Fine," he agreed reluctantly, "You go ask him. But if he wants you out, then I won't hesitate to push you out the door." Zane wiggled his eyebrows and flashed a devillish smile. He was so nonchalant.

I put on my fakest, friendliest smile and protested, "If he wants me out, I'll push myself out the door." And with that, I marched back into the house, leaving Zane and his arrogance behind.

I didn't waste time. I found Eli in his room at the end of a long hallway. I tapped lightly on the door and waited for a response. "Come in," he said, but I strained to hear him through the door.

I turned the handle and entered. Eli was leaning on his windowsill, peering outside at the fence that encircled us. I knelt next to him and rested my forehead against his hand and closed my eyes. He stroked my hair lightly and grasped my chin to make me look at him. His skin was burning. I avoided his eyes, but that was a mistake.

"Look at me," Eli whispered, and I did. "I'm still me, just with a few rough edges." He smiled and my heart skipped. He gave me hope.

I stared at the place where his bite would be, if it weren't hidden beneath the cotton of his T-shirt. "You have more than just rougher edges, Eli," I whispered, turning away from him.

He sighed and returned his gaze to the outside. He pressed a hot hand to the glass, as if he were a bird in a cage, desperate to see the outside world. He shook his head and dropped his hand, leaving a sweaty print on the window. "Have you ever thought about dying, Gabrielle?" Eli asked, "Like, what would happen. Where you would go after, I mean."

I nodded, and asked the question I had been longing to know the answer to. "Are you scared?"

"Not to die, but I'm scared of after," he admitted, "I'm afraid that there isn't a place to go afterwards. That we'll just disappear when we're gone. I'm afraid that I'll hurt my friends." Eli met my eyes again, and I saw that they were sad and puffy, as if he had been crying. "But most of all, I'm scared of losing you."

"You won't," I assured him, though I wasn't completely sure of my own words.

He smiled weakly; he wanted so badly to believe my words. His green eyes were sullen, but bright as he spoke, "But if I'm right, and there is nothing left afterwards, what then?"

I shook my head. I didn't know how to respond. I wasn't sure whether there was a Heaven or not, but I prayed that there was, so that this wouldn't be all that was left. I changed the subject, hoping to distract him, "Zane wants me to leave."

"What?" he asked, surprised, "Why?"

"He thinks I'm too stressful for you."

Eli frowned. It was the first time I had seen him look angry. No, not angry, but irritated. He sighed again and narrowed his eyebrows, "Zane's just trying to do what's best, even if he is wrong."

He's evil, I thought to myself, but I didn't say that. I just nodded.

"He's not a bad guy," he whispered, as if he reading my mind, "I don't want you to go. I need you here."

Before the infection, I had always relied on other people to provide for me, but now, someone needed me. He was right. I had to be here, for both of us. I didn't know if Eli could do it without me to comfort and assure him.

Eli raised a hand to my cheek. He ran his thumb along the surface, "I really like you, Gabrielle. It's crazy, isn't it?"

I shook my head, "I like you too." And I did. Eli was like the brother I never had, but always wanted. He was like Juno, easily frightened, but his presence was comforting, which made him unbearable to lose.

He smiled wide, revealing his teeth, "I'll talk to him, if you promise to get some rest. You can stay in here until Zane figures out sleeping arrangements."

"But--" I protested, taking his hand away from my face and resting it in mine. I wanted him to stay.

"No buts," he hushed, raising my hand to his lips as he kissed my fingertips. "Stay here." The words came out as a whisper; so quiet, I wasn't actually sure if he had said them at all. All I knew was that he was gone, and I missed his heat.

I took a good look around his room before. I made my way to his bed and curled up into the pillows. They smelled like sweat and cologne; they smelled like Eli. His room was rather dark. He had dark blue walls, like Zane's eyes, and the sheets of his bed were black. The carpet was a deep creamy color, but it was stained at the foot with a mysterious purple liquid that greatly resembled grape juice. It was a typical boy's room.

As I peered around, my eyes started to feel heavy. I resisted the urge to sleep; I needed to wait for Eli. But my instincts took over and I couldn't help it. I drifted into slumber, but it was all but peaceful.

I had a dream that Zane was the one who was infected, and he had turned. He was sitting on the edge of Eli's bed and he was rocking back and forth. He was murmuring something too low for me to hear, but his words seemed distorted and unclear.

"Zane?" I asked, puzzled, reaching a hand out to touch him. He turned his gaze up at me and I gasped at the horror, pulling my hand away quickly. I covered my gaping mouth as I screamed and kicked to get away from him. Half of his face was worn away, revealing bone and muscle. His eyes had changed too; they were dark red, but still angry. A moan escaped his lips as he reached for me. He was grasping for me, but he was moving slow. The desire of a Stillwalker was there; I had never seen such want--no, need--in his eyes before.

I woke screaming and thrashing, but someone grabbed my wrists and held me still. My eyes widened. The grip was tight and strong, and the person was not Eli.