"Stay back," Tyler warns the two Émigrés, pointing his gun at them and clicking the bullet into place as they slide off their vehicles. The Émigrés let out a chuckle, taking off their helmets and finally revealing their faces. It was a boy and a girl around our age, and they both look at Tyler and grin. To my complete surprise, Tyler lowers his gun and grins right back at them. "You assholes," He sighs with a shake of his head.
"We got you good!" The boy exclaims proudly, bursting into a fit of laughter.
"You should have seen the look on your face," The girl smirks, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Her gaze falls on me for the first time, and she shoots Tyler a curious look. "Ty, who's this?"
"This is Rachel," Tyler turns to face me and moves out of the way so that he's no longer standing in front of me. "She escaped from the Reserve."
"Nice job, Rachel," the boy comes toward me, extending his right hand. I shake it hesitantly, observing his blue eyes and freckle covered face with the help of the headlights. "I'm Alfred Mallon, but you can call me Alfie. That girl over there is Rebecca Morgan. She doesn't like to be called Becca, so don't do it unless she pisses you off." He winks at the girl, who rolls her eyes at him before shaking my hand as well.
"You can call me Bec if you want. They sometimes do." she offers, her grass green eyes gazing curiously at me. "I escaped from the Reserve as well. Alfie and I left together about a year ago. You made the right choice by coming here."
"I can't believe you actually thought we were Émigrés," Alfie says to Tyler, chuckling again. "We're not even dressed in white!"
"Better safe than sorry," Tyler replies with a shrug. "Did you kill any Émigrés to get these?"
"Nope. We just found them next to a building. They must have left them there and gotten on the ships to come after us." Alfie answers.
"We should get going. The sun's coming up." Tyler observes. He grabs the helmet Alfie was holding and hands it to me before getting on Alfie's vehicle. Alfie proceeds to get on Rebecca's vehicle, and she takes a seat right behind him. "You coming?" Tyler looks back at me, patting the extra space behind him.
"Uh, yeah," I answer quietly with a quick shake of my head. I slip on the helmet and slide onto the seat. The vehicle is sort of like a motorcycle. Even though I've never been on a motorcycle either, I manage to find space to put my feet right behind his, feeling my cheeks flush as I wrap my arms around him so that I won't fall off.
"You remember how to ride one of these?" Alfie calls over the hum of the engine as he starts it up. Tyler starts our vehicle with the press of a button, causing it to vibrate to life.
"Not really, but I'll figure it out," Tyler calls back, accelerating forward so quickly that I almost fall off, my small yelp of surprise lost in the wind.
I notice with a bit of interest that there aren't any wheels on the bottom of the vehicle; it hovers off the ground and moves forward because of some kind of jet on the back. It takes Tyler a few seconds to make sure the vehicle isn't hovering too close to the ground, but after a few curse words and random button pressing, he gets us at the right height.
Soon enough, the fields of grass surrounding us give way to a forest. Tyler slows the vehicle down a bit, but we're still weaving through the trees at a much faster speed than we probably should be going. Tree trunks whiz past my vision, and I wonder how he can even see where we are going. It's impossible for me to tell a difference between any of the trees as they all blur together to form a mass of brown and green.
After what seems like ages, he finally slows down as we approach a small building. Right next to it is a man pointing a gun at us. I tense automatically, but Tyler calmly waves. As soon as the man appears to recognize Tyler, he nods and waves us through.
Tyler stops the vehicle in front of a large house made of red bricks faded with age. After he shuts off the engine, I let him go immediately. He slides off the vehicle and makes his way up a small set of stairs toward the front door. I take off my helmet and have a look around as I get off as well. The sun is beginning to cast an orange glow over everything, and I can clearly see a wooden shed along with a field full of some kind of plant that's beginning to sprout. I've never lived on a farm, but after living on the Reserve for nearly two years, this is the closest thing to my old home that I've ever seen. It makes me feel safe, nostalgic, and also sad all at once, because I know I'll never be going back to that two-story house in the suburbs that I once called home.
"You look like you've never seen corn before," a voice says. Startled out of my daze, I look up to see Tyler looking at me in amusement from the top of the stairs.
"She's basically been in a cage for two years. Give her a break." Rebecca gives me a knowing smile as she walks past Tyler and into the house. I go up the stairs with Alfie, and Tyler holds the door for us, still looking at me like I'm a little kid who got way too excited over nothing of importance.
"I harvested crops in the Reserve, I know what corn looks like," I tell him, but he acts as if I haven't spoken. Without even a glance, he walks right by me.
"Welcome to our humble abode," Alfie says grandly, throwing out his arms for emphasis as he grins at me. We're in a living room, I assume. There's a cream colored couch that's sagging with age, and a TV gathering dust from not being used for a long time. Bookshelves line the walls and thin, white curtains hang from the windows. The whole room is lit by the natural sunlight, but I can spot dozens of candles that must be used to give the place light at night.
"What do you think of the place?" Rebecca asks me as she lazily tosses her backpack onto the couch. "Nice, isn't it?" I nod.
"Is it just you four here?" I ask, taking in the large kitchen straight ahead, along with the vast dining room with a long wooden table surrounded by matching chairs. This house is bigger than any house I've ever been in, and I think it could easily fit about 30 people if they didn't mind sharing space. Maybe the guy out there with the gun lives here too.
"Hell no," Alfie scoffs, striding past me. "We're barely a quarter of the amount of people here." With that, he bounds up the flight of stairs separating the living room to the dining room, screaming "RISE AND SHINE" at the top of his lungs.
Within minutes, about a dozen people sleepily make their way down the stairs. Most of them appear to be in their 20s and 30s, but there is one man with graying hair and wrinkled skin, and one boy who seems to be around Annie's age. The little boy stares up at me as he walks by. Just seeing him makes my heart ache for home, but I push it aside. I just have to stay away long enough to find my father.
Each person looks at me with a slight bit of interest before moving on to their morning routines. Everyone goes off in different directions with a purpose while I just stand here, unsure of where to go and what to do. I feel useless, and I can't stand it. Turning around, my eyes search the home until they find Tyler, who's taking canned food out of his pack and putting it away in the cabinets in the kitchen. I make my way toward him.
"Need any help?" I ask him quietly, feeling uncomfortable with all the people looking at me curiously as they walk through the kitchen.
"New plaything, Tyler?" says a tall guy with wavy brown hair as he walks toward us. His light blue eyes stare at me confidently, daring me to look away. I refuse, causing him to smirk.
"No," Tyler mutters under his breath, and I'm not sure whose question he's answering as he continues unpacking without looking at either of us.
"I'm Damien," The guy announces to me, as if I'd been dying to know.
"Rachel," I say evenly.
"I like her," Damien comments, finally looking away from me to open a drawer and take out a plastic water bottle. "I mean, she's not as pretty as the last one, but she's got a decent body." I feel my cheeks heat up at his words, and I try to think of anywhere I could go that isn't here.
Tyler slams the cabinet door closed, causing me to flinch in surprise and look back down at him again. He throws his bag over his shoulder and stands up, storming past me without a word, his face hardened with anger.
"Hey," The wavy-haired boy continues. "Maybe you won't let this one die."
Everything after those words happens in a flash. Tyler's fist connects with Damien's nose. Before Damien can react, Tyler slams him against the kitchen wall, his hands around Damien's neck, squeezing so tight that his fingers are turning white while Damien's face is turning red. Blood is dripping out of Damien's nose and onto his gray shirt. I feel like I should do something, but my body remains frozen in place, and all I manage to do is shout, "Stop!"
Either Tyler ignores me or he doesn't hear me because he doesn't even blink. I don't know why I expected to be any help in ending this. He has no intention of stopping, and the words of some girl he doesn't know won't change anything.
Damien lets out a choked laugh, dropping his water bottle. With little difficulty, he wraps his hands around Tyler's wrists. I can tell that Tyler is strong, but he's not strong enough to inflict the amount of pain that he wants. Damien pries Tyler's hands away and shoves him back forcefully enough that he loses his balance and ends up sprawled by my feet.
"Enough!" An authoritative voice yells the second Tyler scrambles to his feet and Damien surges forward. Both boys freeze in place as a woman steps in between them. "How many times are you two going to go at it?" She demands, her dark eyes narrowing at each one of them. Neither boy answers her nor meets her eyes, although Damien is smirking again.
"Won't happen again, Angie," Damien promises.
"Yeah," she huffs. "You keep saying that. Maybe one day it'll be true." She waves them away, rubbing her eyes tiredly until they come across me still standing around like a useless ragdoll. "Oh, hello," She smiles warmly at me, emphasizing the faint wrinkles on her face.
"Hi," I reply in a voice barely above a murmur, clearing my throat awkwardly.
"Are you staying with us?" She asks, taking in my Reserve outfit.
"Just until I find my father, David Collins." I nod.
"Oh, okay," she nods as well. "He should be back tonight, but you're welcome to stay as long as you want."
"Thank you."
"No problem. I'm Angie, by the way," She holds out her hand and I shake it firmly.
"I'm Rachel," I say for what feels like the 20th time in the last few hours.
"Well, Rachel, let's find you a place to rest. You must be exhausted." Angie leads me out of the kitchen, tucking a strand of dark red hair behind her ear.
"There's an extra bed in Tyler's room. You know, since his little girlfriend's gone." Damien suggests as he walks past us, holding a rag on his nose and going out the front door without waiting for anyone's reaction. Angie sighs heavily, shaking her head.
"He's right, though. Tyler, would you be okay with Rachel taking the extra bed?" She says to him as he starts to walk up the stairs.
"Whatever," is his reply.
"Are you okay with rooming with him? You can take this couch if you would prefer not to share a room with a guy, but I wouldn't advise the couch if you want any sleep. Some people stay up late and hang out on this floor." She looks at me with concern.
"It's fine," I say, even though it isn't. I've lived with 2 sisters my whole life and never once shared a room with a guy. It seems weird even thinking about it, but what choice do I have?
"He'll show you around. If you need anything, just let me know." Angie says with another smile before patting me on the shoulder and walking back into the kitchen.
I follow Tyler up the stairs and down a long hallway, entering the last door on the right. It's a simple bedroom with white walls and dusty wooden furniture. One twin sized bed is on each side of the room.
Tyler tosses his backpack on the bed to my left, so I make my way to the bed on the right and take off the messenger bag that I had nearly forgotten about. My body feels heavy, void of any energy from all the running and excitement of the past few hours.
I sit on the edge of the bed as Tyler turns to face me. I know he's not going to explain what's going on with him and Damien, and even though I'm curious, I wouldn't dare pester it out of him. Here in this room, with the early rays of morning sunlight shining through the window and casting a warm glow on his face, I can finally see all of his features. His cheeks are slightly sunken in, and there are dark circles under his eyes. I can see that his eyes are not brown like I originally thought. They are a dark blue with a hint of gray, like the color I think of whenever I think about the ocean.
But that's not even what sticks out to me. What takes me back is the look in his eyes. I'd always heard of the "thousand yard stare" but never seen it in person until now. Just by his eyes alone, I can tell he is someone who has experienced more pain than anyone should ever face. He has seen things that I cannot begin to imagine, and he has probably lost more people close to him than I can ever dream of losing.
Will my father have that look? I'm anxious to see him after being away from him for a year. Just the idea of seeing him soon because I managed to find the rebels is still surreal to me.
"My clothes are in that dresser over there, but there's plenty of room for your clothes in the closet." Tyler says to me, bringing me back to reality. "Angie will get together some clothes for you later. I'll be up in five hours, but you can sleep longer than that if you want." I yawn without meaning to as I nod in response, feeling so exhausted that I doubt I'll remember his words when I wake up. Slipping off my mud-stained sneakers, I lie back on the bed and shut my eyes.
As I begin to drift off, I can hear Tyler already snoring softly, along with the muffled sounds of people laughing downstairs. For the first time since I climbed over the Reserve wall, I somehow get the feeling that I don't need to be afraid anymore. Maybe, by some miracle, everything will be okay for a little while.
I'm finally able to rest and be at peace...until the loud ringing of a bell outside forces my eyes open again. I grumble in complaint as I reach for the pillow on the bed so that I can hold it over my ears, but as I do that, I see Tyler shoot out of bed with more speed than I could ever hope to have the second I wake up. He shoves his feet into his hiking boots, and I give him a curious look as I sit up.
"What's going on?" I ask, wondering if I should be doing something.
"Outsiders," He answers quickly, grabbing his gun off of his dresser.
"What?" Is my intelligent reply. As he strides out of the bedroom, I grab the knife on the dresser and follow him out.
"Remember how I said that the Émigrés aren't the only enemy you have to worry about?"
"Yes," I do my best to keep up with him as he nearly sprints down the stairs and out the open front door.
"Outsiders are just one of the potential dangers that we have to deal with out here. Every so often, a group of them tries to come into our camp and steal anything that could be of use to them. When that bell is rung, it means some of them have gotten past the people guarding the camp, and we need to finish the job." He explains, stopping so suddenly that I nearly run in to him. He turns to face me, an annoyed look in his dark eyes. "Which is why you need to stay here."
"What? No!" I sputter in protest. "I hate being useless. I'm going to help."
"Sometimes, the most helpful thing to do is stay out of the way." Tyler growls, grabbing me by the shoulders and pushing me back into the house. I try to pull his hands away and hold my ground, but it's no use. He won't let go, even when I'm back inside the house and he stops pushing.
"I want to help." I say firmly.
"A little knife won't do you much good. You wouldn't be able to handle even one of them."
"Just let me try." I hate to sound like I'm pleading, but I'm running out of options. He gives me an exasperated look.
"Look, kid-"
"Don't call me kid." The words slip harshly out of my mouth before I can stop them. Tyler stares at me as if I've gone insane.
"You ever kill anyone?" He demands. I shake my head no. "You ever seen a dead body?"
"Yes," I answer, my voice cracking with emotion as the memories come back. While my family was on the run from the Émigrés, it wasn't uncommon to come across a dead body, or even several all in one place. Émigrés were killing those who didn't surrender, and people were killing each other for things like food and clean water. We'd come across a body every now and then, and my parents would always cover Annie's eyes and tell us to look away, but sometimes my curiosity would get the best of me. I still don't understand why I ever looked. The images I have of the dead still haunt me. Eyes that stare without seeing, blood staining their clothes and the ground around them...men, women, children...the smell...the sound of the flies buzzing around them...it never got easier to experience, but it was something we all had to learn to deal with. "I can handle it."
"Regardless of what you think you can handle, it's not safe. And I highly doubt you'd like what you saw if you came with us. Just stay here. You won't be alone." With that, he finally let go of my shoulders and quickly made his way out the front door and into the surrounding forest.
I watch him until he disappears. The area around the doorway gets eerily quiet, everyone else already going into the forest or staying put inside the house. For whatever reason, staying put is ripping me up inside. And the thought of Tyler taking on an intruder by himself, as much as he could handle it alone, makes me more uncomfortable. Can I really just hunker down and wait anxiously?
My legs seem to move on their own. Soon enough, I'm in forest myself, clutching my knife firmly as my eyes search through the trees. Am I scared? Yes. I'm beyond terrified, but I can't just stand there and do nothing. If I couldn't handle an outsider, I'd never be able to handle an Émigré, and if I couldn't handle an Émigré, I might as well welcome death with open arms.
My father would never do that, so neither will I.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you enjoyed this, please be sure to vote and/or comment! It would mean a lot to me!
QUESTION FOR THE CHAPTER: Do you think most people after an apocalypse, trying to survive like this, would be violent and only caring about their own survival, or rational and willing to work together?