"Doesn't this all just feel too...I don't know...Dawn of the Dead to you guys?"
We stand in front of the busted automatic doors to a mall much smaller than any I've ever been to. Ellis steps back again and then hops forward, as if this time the doors will open for us. But with no power, it's no surprise they're busted.
"Okay Ellis, I think that's enough tries." I put a hand on his arm to stop him from hopping forward again.
"I ain't tryin' to get these doors to open, I'm making sure there ain't a camera watching or an alarm that'll go off." He squints up at the building.
"That movie is so distant in my mind; I can't remember who lived and who died or if anyone made it out. Hey wasn't that the movie with the guy on the opposite building? Or am I thinking of a different movie?" Becca holds Monty's hand in her own as she, too, stares up at our little dilapidated mall.
"I can't remember either," I respond. "But we should hurry up and take what we need so we can get going." I look at the sky. The sun is high and dead center, so we've got a few hours before dusk. "We just might reach Ostford tomorrow morning."
Ellis busts the glass doors after a few solid hits with his crowbar, glass spraying everywhere. When he scrapes some of the glass still on the door off, he nods and we follow him inside.
"You know how many movies take place in malls?" Becca's voice echoes and her eyes go wide as they roam over all the empty stores and high ceiling. "Like a lot. Let's name a few: Dawn of the Dead—which yes, I already mentioned—that one spider movie Eight-Legged Freaks, Mall Cop...I know there are more but I just can't remember them all right now. Know what's scary? Something bad always happens!" She whispers that last part sharply.
"Shh." Ash holds his hand up and looks off to the side. I follow his gaze towards a food court. It's completely silent. The tables and chairs are on their sides and the floor is smeared with moldy food people likely dropped in an attempt to get away.
"I mean, not saying something bad will happen, but it could happen. It's okay, as long as we stick—"
"Becca, shut up!" Ash snaps at her. She clamps her mouth shut and narrows her eyes at him, but stops talking. Ellis looks at her and offers a thumbs-up before writing another note down in his notebook.
"Doesn't seem like anyone's here," Ash says, still scanning the mall. We stop near a broken down escalator. A beam of light paints a glowing white line straight across the middle. Everything else is dusty and dark.
"But we should still be on guard," Ash continues. "Okay, here's the deal." He turns to face all of us and leans back on the railing that overlooks the lower half of the mall. "Take only what you need, be cautious with what you want. I'd say we could split up, but—" he looks over at Becca. "Maybe we shouldn't."
Her eyes widen more. "I'm just saying that's a horror-movie rule. If you want to, sure. Go 'head." She holds a hand out and looks around. "Honestly though, there doesn't seem to be anyone here. We could split up, but no one goes alone."
"Well I don't mind either way." Ellis props his crowbar on his shoulder and turns on his heel. "I'm off to pick out a new weapon. If anyone needs me I'll be around." He already branches off and makes his way down a narrow corridor, whistling a tune that only makes the setting a whole lot creepier.
Becca looks between Ash and I. "I think I'll go with him. I'm the only one who doesn't have a weapon here. Will you two be okay?"
I nod. "Let's meet back here in a few hours."
Becca bites her lip and looks over at Ash. "Okay... Hey Ash, maybe you can teach me to shoot later, yeah?"
Ash hesitates and raises an eyebrow skeptically. "You've never shot a gun before?"
She shakes her head, blonde curls stiffly bobbing back and forth. "I mean, Monty and I just run and hide. I did have an ax from my mom's glass case—she was a firefighter—but that got stuck up on the stadium hood. I played softball in high school, remember? I got a mean swing." She releases Monty's hand to demonstrate as if she's holding an invisible baseball bat. Monty stares up at her wide-eyed and curious, his bear in one arm. "I'm sure I can find a baseball bat here. But even then, I'd still like to learn to shoot."
Ash nods slowly, eyeing her with lazy curiosity. "Yeah I can teach you. Maybe we'll practice on the roof of this place later."
Her eyes go wide. "Oh no. Dawn of the Dead signs. Never mind, I'll just wait till we leave here."
I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. For some reason, the idea of Ash teaching her to shoot doesn't sit well with me. Not because I fear she'd be inexperienced, but because...well, selfishly, I kind of don't want Ash teaching her what he taught me. I push the thought away instantly. We're in this together; we're a team and we're all just survivors looking for a little hope, as Ellis said. But my mind must really be in a wrong place if I'm getting a tad jealous over a fifteen year old. Stick to the mission, Scarlett.
"I think it would be good to learn," I say suddenly. Ash looks over at me, arms crossed as he still leans against the railing. "You need to be prepared for anything."
Becca meets my eyes as she bites her bottom lip nervously. And in her big green eyes, I can see the honesty and innocence still in her. In this moment, she looks scared and a little bit vulnerable. Uncertain. I remember our conversation around the fire last night. How she's losing hope. How she doesn't believe she has anyone waiting at Ostford for her. Why didn't I ask her why she's still going in that moment? What's keeping her moving? My best guess is the little guy standing beside her, looking between her and the direction Ellis disappeared down. His round cheeks are flushed and heavy bags crease beneath his eyes. He's still sick and Becca knows he might not make it. Who will she have when he's gone?
"I know," Becca says quietly. "That's why I have to learn to shoot."
"Don't worry," Ash reassures. "You'll be a pro before we reach Ostford."
His words brighten her mood and her perfectly straight teeth show through a real smile. "Thank you. You guys are some of the best people I've met. And that's including before the apocalypse." She runs up to me and throws her arms around me, the surprise of her embrace forcing me to stumble back a few steps. I wrap my arms around her frail body. She pulls back and looks over at Ash hesitantly before approaching him slowly. He holds an arm out to indicate it's okay, and she doesn't miss a beat: she wraps her arms tight around him, too, and buries her face in his chest. "I'm so grateful I have you guys." Her words are muffled and she steps back, inhaling deeply. Monty stares off where Ellis disappeared, but she looks over at him as if she doesn't want him seeing her this way. How long has she tried staying strong for him?
"Okay we're off to find Ellis and new weapons. You two have fun now, but not too much fun..." She takes Monty's small hand and winks back at us, returning to her bubbly self. We watch her trail after Ellis, muttering something inaudible to Monty before the two of them jog briskly after him, hand-in-hand.
I look at Ash. He's already watching me expressionless. I cross my arms and tilt my head to look at him. "Well then. Shall we go Prom shopping?"
***
"Everything here sucks."
Ash sifts through rows of bagged tuxedos hung up neatly. He hasn't so much as shot every new tuxedo a death glare since we arrived here. The store we're in is on the bottom floor and off to the corner, a small little place designated just for Prom. All the tuxedos Ash has pulled out look the same; no wonder he thinks they suck.
"Maybe you can customize something so it looks more...I don't know, apocalyptic?" I sift through my own section of gowns and party dresses, an array of bright yellows and soft pinks and cloudy blues. Ruffles and silk and sparkles. Too much. Definitely too much.
"Nah, I'm not wearing a tuxedo to Ostford. Who does that? What a stupid idea." Ash shoves the clothes away from him on the rack, the hangers making a scraping metal sound. He sits back on a display table of shoes and looks over at me. "I'm sure Ellis was just joking."
I shrug and remove a ruffled pink dress from the hanger, holding it up against me before tossing it off to the side. "Probably. But this is fun, isn't it? You can finally experience what it's like shopping with a girl." I yank another dress from a hanger; this time a white one.
"I've shopped with a girl before. I had a sister, remember?"
"I mean a non-relative."
"Pretty much all girls shop the same. Oh, let's try these shoes! Different shirt size please. Do these come in purple?" He mimics in a high-pitched voice and rolls his eyes. "Hours upon hours."
I toss the white dress aside. "You're stereotyping and generalizing."
"It's true."
"It is not."
"Then what are you doing?"
I narrow my eyes at him over a cylinder of dresses on clearance. "I'm trying to pick something I like."
"Which is?"
I sigh at the dresses. "Something that flares at the waist but doesn't go past the knee, maybe ruffles and no sparkles. Any color but yellow or green. Ew."
"Simple...yeah."
I avoid his stare and shove more dresses aside with both hands, parting them like the Red Sea. "You're right. This is stupid. Why are we even here?" I turn suddenly and meet Ash's eyes. He's still watching. "Maybe we should just grab Ellis, Becca, and Monty and go. Reach Ostford tonight rather than tomorrow morning."
Ash furrows his eyebrows and shakes his head. "Why? We don't get many luxury trips while on the road. We'll be at Ostford soon enough."
"Soon enough isn't soon enough." I kick some discarded dresses away and make my way over to Ash. I trip over a pile of heels and fall forward, but Ash catches me in an instant. He looks down at me considerately, our faces so close together I can see his pupils dilate and un-dilate.
"Thanks," I mutter, slightly taken aback by his quick reflexes. My hair sticks to my face and I shake the strands away. He holds on to me a few seconds longer before I push myself off him and adjust my white tank top.
"We um...we should probably go find the others..." my voice trails off as I catch the strange look on his face. He doesn't smile and it almost seems as if he's...disappointed.
"Why? Why do we have to keep going?" He crosses his arms again. "Not saying we shouldn't, but I mean why now? You're so focused on..." He lowers his voice when my expression changes to something a little critical, "You're so focused on going from here to here," he holds his hands apart to demonstrate, "That you're missing this part." He moves his hands closer together and gestures to the space between. "You're missing what happens along the way."
I narrow my eyes at him. "No, I'm staying focused."
"Are you really?" He leans back on the table, arms behind him. "Because yeah the whole plan is to complete your mission, but if you only keep your eyes on it, you'll miss what happens around you. What happens in between."
"But what happens in between is just a distraction." I pivot on my heel and attempt walking around him towards the front of the store, but he grabs my arm. I meet his gaze.
"No. Maybe your mission is a distraction from the things you're afraid to see."
Even though the electricity is out and our only light in the store is what the sun provides from outside, Ash's sapphire eyes seem to glow. Maybe it's the intensity of his stare. Or the pleading. A desperation for me to understand his words. I step back and turn to face him completely. "I'm not afraid to see anything."
He moves from the counter and walks towards me, releasing my arm. "Then why do you keep running?"
"Running? I'm not running, I'm shrinking the distance between me and my mission."
His eyes fill with uncertainty, but they pierce my soul with a knowingness I don't quite understand. As if he's unlocked a part of me I have yet to find the key to.
"The whole point of having a mission is to experience and gain lessons in your attempt to accomplish it. You have to take a minute to stop and just..." He shakes his head and looks around the store. "Breathe. You have to step back and look at the bigger picture, because sometimes we're so determined to get what we want as soon as we can have it that we forget it's okay to acknowledge the feelings that come with it. It's okay to listen, to see, to feel."
His words ring in my ears, almost too much but not enough. "But there's always time after the mission is accomplished," I say. "You accomplish, then you rest."
"Not always." He purses his lips. "It's definitely not the same after. No guarantees for a second chance."
I want him to elaborate more; to explain what makes him think that, but instead, a new question pops into my mind. "Then why don't you do the same? For...your sister, your mom, your dad..."
Where he used to tense at the mention of them before, now he only shrugs. "I didn't and that's why I'm telling you this. Maybe if I had taken the time to appreciate the growing pains before they finally stopped, I wouldn't feel so bitter now. It's like a piece I'm missing that I can't ever get back."
I let out a long sigh and nod. "Okay. So then what do we do here while we wait for the others?"
Ash smirks and pushes off the counter before reaching for a black dress from one of the hooks. He holds it out to me. "You said you wanted to experience Prom. We're having a Prom."
"What about Becca? Or Ellis? They were gonna pick out outfits too."
He shakes his head, lazy amusement in his eyes. "Ellis would merely be a chaperone and Becca would have no one to dance with. Monty's too young."
I raise an eyebrow before taking the black dress. "Okay. You have to try on a tuxedo, though."
"Fine."
"Fine," I repeat, turning on my heel. He watches me disappear into one of the fitting rooms. I lock the door behind me.
I leave my holster, backpack and weapons on a stool inside the room. It takes little while for me to strip down completely, removing the boots, then shorts, then shirt—especially when I'm bruised and sore from all the fighting we've done in the past couple days. Honestly, pain and injuries are just becoming a normal part of life now. When I slip into the dress, it runs a little tight on my waist, but for the most part conforms to my curves perfectly. The material feels weird on my skin. When was the last time I wore a dress again? I never went to Homecoming at my high school. No school dances whatsoever. A relative had a wedding a few years ago I went to...
So it's been years.
I turn to face the mirror and my jaw nearly drops. Not because I'm stunned by my own appearance, either.
Now I see what Ellis and Ash were saying: my eyes are yellowish like the inside of a lemon. I've never seen eyes quite so bright before. Even though I'm immune, I still don't feel any different. But the physical traits are so obvious. Even my hair is a little more red, almost the color of wine. Aside from those two things, a few shadowy bruises pepper my arms. My hair is a disaster. Oh well. Maybe Ostford can give me some answers when we get there.
I lower my eyes to the black dress that flares at the waist and brushes my once-bloodied and bruised knees. I run my fingers over the silky material and feel the tight bow at my torso, the ribbons hanging at my sides where they should be tied behind me. The dress is strapless and plain black, but it's so beautiful. Black is not my color, but clearly it must be Ash's. That's the only color he wears. No wonder why he picked this one.
I smile to myself before exiting the fitting room.
But when I step out, Ash is exactly as I left him: leaning against a table with his arms crossed. When he spots me, his eyebrows shoot up and he whistles under his breath. "Damn. And I thought I looked good in black."
I cross my arms and cock my head to one side. "Why aren't you in your tuxedo?"
"I don't do dressy."
I roll my eyes. "I'm not showing up to Ostford in this, so appreciate the view: it's lasting only a few more seconds and I'm changing."
Ash pushes off from the table and walks over to me. His eyes drop down the length of my body as he stops only a few inches from me. "Scarlett..." he lowers his voice before meeting my eyes. "You are so beautiful."
His words create whirlpools in my stomach. Don't smile. "Oh, it takes me being in a dress for you to say that."
His expression is serious as he says, "I always thought so. But in different ways."
"Different ways?"
"With everything. Back at my house, especially." He flashes a warm smile. "Hiding in the pantry and your minor episode of claustrophobia."
I scrunch up my nose. "What a terrible memory."
"And our talk around the candle." He rubs the back of his neck nervously. "When you told me you thought you were a bad person."
Oh, do I remember that conversation well. Was that the point I started trusting Ash?
"And when I taught you to shoot."
I look up at him, searching his eyes for hesitation or any indication of fabrication. But for the first time, he appears open. Completely honest. Not quite as mysterious as when we first met.
"And I have to tell you something..." He narrows his eyes at the words but a smile plays on his lips...lips that I suddenly can't stop staring at.
"What?"
"You always shot pretty well. There was nothing wrong with your stance. I just wanted a chance to get closer to you."
My mouth falls open and I smack his chest gently. "Seriously? What's wrong with you?"
He lets out a nervous laugh and bites his bottom lip. "Hey, you can't be mad. I felt you tense beneath my touch. Don't act like it doesn't faze you." Before I respond, he reaches out, grabs my wrist, and pulls me towards him. He puts his lips close to my ear and whispers, "May I have this dance?"
A chill goes down my spine and I nod. "You may."
Ash moves back and pulls me with him towards a more open area in the center of the store. We're surrounded in clothes and the place is still dark. There's no music or even sound; it's as if we're the only two people here.
"Have you ever danced before?" Ash asks, moving a hand to my waist.
I shake my head. "No."
He narrows his eyes but doesn't question it. "What's your favorite slow song?"
I think for a moment before answering, "I'm not really into slow songs...techno, remember? But maybe..." He keeps his eyes trained on me while I ponder a response. "Can I say 'Try' by Pink?"
"That's not a slow song. And it's not one I'd even consider slow dancing to."
I shrug. "Just take it."
"Okay. Pretend that's the song playing in the background right now."
I pretend. I imagine the DJ taking my request simply because I said so and crowds of students around me complaining. I imagine a night filled with pulsing music and laughing students; a night free of worries and an open heart willing to...try new things.
And I imagine Ash and I in the middle of the dance floor, my first dance with someone I just might love.
"Close your eyes," Ash instructs. And I don't know why I listen, but I do.
He pulls me against him, one hand on my lower back as the heat of his body encompasses me. He takes both my wrists and brings them around his neck. Then his hands move to my waist and he guides me slowly side-to-side, his warm breath on my forehead. Before you know it, we're swaying in-sync to the soundless beat only thrumming in my head.
And without warning, I feel Ash press his lips to mine so softly and gently, as if I'm Sleeping Beauty and he's the Prince trying to awaken me. Well, he certainly awakened something in me. I snap my eyes open and catch his blue eyes lingering over my own with the same uncertainty and question I recall when...when he launched that grenade. I pull him close to me again, so close our lips almost touch, and whisper, "Kiss me like you mean it."
"I did mean it," he responds huskily.
"Then kiss me like the first time."
The uncertainty in his eyes returns. As if he's waiting for the punch line. When I don't offer one, he brings his lips to mine once more and closes his eyes. The kiss starts slow but in an instant becomes more forceful; maybe even a shared desperation igniting between us. I taste the familiar sweetness on his tongue as he parts my lips, deepening the kiss. Once again all my thoughts and memories melt away and I'm swept away into a white-hot passion I've only ever felt with Ash. Kiss me harder, give me more...I just want to feel more...
And I catch my hands moving from his neck down to his chest, feeling the ridges of his muscles as I move further down to the hem of his shirt. When I grip the material and attempt lifting it away from his hot skin, his fingers wrap around my wrists and our lips break apart.
"What are you doing?" He rasps.
My own breathing is ragged as I say, "I need...more."
His eyes narrow. "No Scarlett, you don't..."
"But I do." My voice is desperate and pleading and it causes me to cringe. But I've developed my own addiction for Ash and I'm not sure I can get enough right now.
"We can't...We shouldn't..." But his voice wavers.
"Why not?" My heart hammers at the thought of my own words as tumble out of my mouth against my will. But I mean them. Each one. I know what I want, and I just want Ash. "You said yourself we need to stop and feel the moment. Why not now?"
"We're at a mall."
"So?"
"Do you realize what you're asking?"
I stare up into his eyes, bring my lips close to his ear, and whisper, "I do."
He purses his lips but there's mischief in his eyes, too. And just when I think he might deny my oh-so-polite request, he brings a hand to my waist and leans down once again to deliver a persistent kiss that tells me he wants this as much as I do. The force of his body presses against me so that I stumble backwards until my back hits the wall closest to us. Everything that follows happens in only a matter of seconds:
His lips: leaving my own and trailing along my jaw line and down my neck.
His hands: roaming; roaming where I would never let any guy roam before—not even Carter.
Touching: So much touching, desperate and frantic as his fingers graze my arms, sending chills down my spine and eliciting a small gasp from my lips. My skin burns beneath his touch but I only want more...I want to feel him all over...
He steps back to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. He tosses it to the side and looks back at me, a wild desperation swirling in his eyes. The dog tags glint against his olive-toned skin, so perfect and beautiful even in the darkness. My heart thuds harder at the sight of him. I knew he had a nice body before, but oh man...years of training to be a SWAT officer has served him well. My breath hitches in my throat and he smirks at me.
"You're blushing again."
I ignore his words and bring a palm flat against his chest, only to discover his heart beats just as hard as mine as his chest heaves up and down. I just want him. All of him; I want him to touch me, too.
But I don't even have to ask because in the next instant, he takes my hand from his chest and brings both my arms up and around his neck once again. I run my hands through his soft brown hair and his hands move to my thighs. He hoists me up onto him and I wrap my legs around his waist as his lips make contact with my own again. Then he brings me to a couch off to the side likely meant for people accompanying anyone lucky enough to model Prom outfits.
Ash sets me down gently, my back cushioned by the couch's softness. I scoot higher up and he moves over me, caging me in by his arms while he settles between my legs. His head comes down to the crook of my neck as he plants kiss after gentle kiss, sending chills through my whole body. I run my hands over his muscular back, only wanting him closer even as the weight of his body lowers down on me. The heat of our bodies against each other is too much and I just want everything gone; every piece of clothing between us...gone.
He brings a hand to my thigh and grazes my skin higher... and higher... and higher, pushing my dress up. I reach for his pants and unbutton them. He pulls back suddenly, leaving my skin cold where his lips have left. When he moves off the couch and reaches for his backpack, I push myself to my elbows.
"What are you doing?"
He rummages through for only a few seconds before pulling out a small square-shaped packet. "Better safe than sorry."
Heat floods my cheeks. "You've been carrying them around?"
"Actually no, I picked some up from the gas station. I'm surprised you didn't notice." A smirk.
I'm surprised, too. But not quite as surprised as his preparation. "You were anticipating this." Not a question.
He tosses the backpack aside and returns to the couch. "Maybe at Ostford. Not quite this soon."
My stomach flutters. But it doesn't change my thoughts on it. All I know is this is what I want. For once, there's no hesitation; no question. No proceeding without certainties. In this moment, I know everything I want—and everything I want is already right in front of me. Ash with his disheveled hair and untamable blue eyes that devour me in a single glance. Ash, who saved my life when he didn't have to. Ash, who was also waiting for Ostford in his own ways. Seems like we're all just waiting for Ostford as if that's where we finally get back to our lives. Where we get back what we've lost.
But for the first time, Ostford truly does seem like a mere distraction from what's happening right now.
The next few moments become only ones of pure bliss; everything blends together so quickly I'm not sure which happen first:
One minute Ash is only shirtless; the next he's down to nothing.
One minute I'm still in my dress; the next he's pulling it over my head.
One minute I'm aching to feel him; the next he's pinning my arms above me.
One minute his eyes roam over my body; the next his lips are at my collarbone... his body pressing against my own... his weight silencing my thoughts... his strength rendering me breathless... my body reacting through shudders... my skin burning with desire... my lips suppressing a moan...
...and as expected, an intensified burn so foreign and strange between my legs I have to bite my bottom lip to keep from crying out. Ash notices me stiffen and he pauses to ask breathlessly, "Do you want me to stop?" A war for self-control wages in his eyes.
Deep breath. "No. Keep going."
So he does. And we do. And it's just us two in this moment in a dilapidated mall during the middle of an unexpected apocalypse, hearts hammering and bodies uniting. Our breathing is heavy and ragged and everything just feels so good... too good... a plethora of sensations surging through my body... and my mind carries me to a place free of worry, free of pain, free of loss... only pleasure...
And my final thought before I'm swept away into euphoric bliss is: maybe Ash has been my mission all along.