"I was raised feral, and I mostly stayed that way."
-unknown
•••
One thing is for sure: these people don't like talking.
Everybody is silent as we walk through the wreckage, and it's incredibly unnerving. I don't know what else to do except let my eyes roam over the group, taking in their appearances.
Almost all of them are in tight black tank tops and camouflage cargo pants, with thick laced up boots. Even the girls. Speaking of which, there's about ten of them, a two to one ratio between the guys and them. Every single one of them looks like they'd snap you in half if you even breath a word in their presence. I keep my mouth shut.
Luke gave a brief introduction to the main people in the group before we set off, and it's hard to forget them. There's Michael, the crazy haired boy with the large black box that turns out to be some sort of smart computer that runs on satellite. He's a genius, could've gone to Harvard apparently, but he kept hacking into his schools speakers and playing porn audios so he was expelled. He's been in the artillery ever since.
There's Calum, a thin but stocky guy with a baby face and thick eyebrows. Tattoos liter his arms, and he's seems to have a permanent I will kick your ass expression on his face. The large assault rifle strapped to his back does nothing to lighten this factor. He seems the closest to Luke, and from what I can tell they somewhat grew up together.
And finally, there's Ivy. When I call her an amazon, it's almost an understatement. She's built like a warrior, with a long blonde ponytail that whips behind her like a ribbon. She's a whole head taller than me, and carries two samurai swords on her back. A single tattoo of a flame resides up the side of her neck. She's clearly one of the leaders of the group.
Considering our current direction, we're heading to Norfolk. I don't know how long it will take to get there.
"Pshht." I nudge Zay, who's been walking beside me in silence. "How long do you think this is going to take?"
He shrugs. "I don't know." There's a funny expression on his face, conflicted but relaxed at the same time. "Do you.." He pauses, biting his lip. He lowers his voice. "Don't you think there's something weird about this? We're just moving along by ourselves and then boom, here comes this mass of warrior people with pointy things and guns."
"Yeah, I know it's weird." I adjust the strap of my bag on my shoulder. "But it's not like we had any other options."
"But we did, Alex, that's the thing." Zay grits his teeth. "We could have gone on by ourselves. Found help on our own. What if these people are really nukes and they're taking us to a torture camp or something?"
I shrug. "Doubt it. They would have killed us already."
Zay sighs. "How are you so calm about this."
"You do realize I was asking you the same thing last night, right?"
"Yeah, but that was when we were on our own. Now I'm afraid my manliness is being sucked out of me from being surrounded by all these buff guys. Even that girl looks like a fucking amazon. I feel like a pip squeak."
I snort, and shove his side. "You've always been a pip squeak."
"Not true."
I clear my throat. Jess and Ash are way in front of us, walking together in silence. As far as I know, we're the only ones even making any noise.
I look up ahead at the front, and my eyes catch on a tall figure moving with the grace of a deer across the wreckage, leading everyone else. Luke. He's looking across the horizon, whispering something to Michael behind him, and the crazy haired boy types some things into his smart computer.
He's completely and utterly intriguing. He's beautiful and dangerous, like a black panther. Which, by the way, are one of the rarest animals on the planet. But that's besides the point.
Luke turns suddenly, and my whole body jolts when his gaze locks with mine. It's brief, but it's there, and then he's facing forward again.
My throat dries a bit. Those eyes..
Alex, stop. You have too much other shit to worry about.
I force my mind to go to my family. They're the real issue here, the real goal. Pulling my half-dead phone from my pocket, I press on the home button to view my lock-screen once more. Their smiling faces stare up at me, and it sends a feeling of warmth over my tense body. I miss them so much it hurts.
Looking up again, I think about what's going to happen after we find them. Sure, we'll go with these people and do what Luke asked, but then what? Where are we supposed to go? If the entire continent is really destroyed, is there anywhere to go?
These thoughts swirl in my head like smoke. The people around me are still as silent as ever. With a repressed sigh, I avert my eyes to the front once more.
For a split second, I swear I see another flash of bright blue, but it's probably just the ash in my vision.
***
By the time the sun goes down, my legs are on fire. My whole body is thrumming with exhaustion. I stumble and almost fall when Luke announces we're stopping for the night, and everyone starts to set up camp.
There's a cluster of twisted dead trees up ahead, but other than that there's nothing new about the area. We're still on the road, and we're still in the middle of broken down and burning buildings. Same dead and grey environment with absolutely no life at all.
Zay goes off to talk to Jess and Ash, so I slowly sit myself down on top of a large bit of asphalt and start to unravel the t-shirt duct tape mixture I put on my feet earlier. When I get it off, my feet are blistered and bruised, and every touch hurts when I reach down to rub on the areas.
There's a thump, and when I look up there's a small duffel bag sitting in front of me. Ivy stands behind it.
"You'll need these. Lots more walking tomorrow." She gives me a strange little half smile, and heads back off to the others.
Inside the bag, I find a pair of thick-soled black combat boots, wool socks, a pair of tight cargo pants and a black sleeveless top. It's unisex, and a little big, so I leave it in the bottom while I try to slip on the pants and boots as discreetly as possible.
There's also a canteen full of water, and I chug it immediately.
When I'm done, I practically fall out in relief. The slight burning pain has dulled to a slow ache, and my feet don't feel like they're about to fall off when I stand up.
"Alright team." Luke's voice is loud and distinct above everyone else's, and the dull murmur of work dies off. "Showers will be in the morning, second group. The newbies can join them. Get some rest, we leave at sunrise."
Showers? How on earth do they take showers?
Just as I'm opening my mouth to ask just that, Zay appears. He's holding a long black bag, and when he sets it on the ground I realize it's a tent. "Here, they gave me this. We have to share. Jess and Ashton have already paired up."
Looking around, I notice the various black tents popping up among the wreckage. They're about as big as a small car. Better than what we were doing last night, I guess.
Nodding, I start to unzip it. "Ok, yeah."
The tent is actually super simple to set up, you just have to click some metal bars and press a blue button and the thing pops open like a jack in the box. There's two scratchy blankets and pillows already inside, and my back thanks me when I lay down inside it. I can hear the clunking of silver utensils outside the tent, and the warm aroma of food, but surprisingly I'm not hungry. The events of the day have not only exhausted my muscles, they've exhausted my stomach as well.
How these people have all of these supplies, I don't know. It just adds to my suspicion that something weird is going on. I do realize that they apparently survived by staying in a military bunker, but all of this stuff couldn't have been in there with them, right?
The flap on the tent zips open, and Zay pokes his head in. He's holding a small bowl, with a jug of water in his hands. His expression is weirdly excited. "Alex, you've gotta try this. They have like, four hundred of these military meal packets, and you like, pour water in them-"
"Thanks, Zay, but I'm not hungry."
"Are you sure?" He dips a small spoon in and shovels some of what looks like a mixture of meat and beans into his mouth. "This stuff is actually kind of good."
"No, I'm fine, really." I reach a hand up to run at my forehead, blinking a few times. I feel like I'm about to pass out.
Xavier frowns. "You ok?"
"Yes, Zay, I'm fine. Except for the fact that I'm five six and less than a hundred fifty pounds, and just walked several miles in nothing but shit t-shirt shoes." I give him the 'duh' look. "I just need some sleep."
Zay slowly nods, and looks down at his food. "You still need to eat. Promise me you will tomorrow morning?"
I roll my eyes. "Promise."
Zay holds his hand out, pinky extended. "Pinky promise?"
"What are you, ten?" I actually laugh a little, hooking my little finger with his. "Pinky promise."
"Ok, I'll be back in like an hour." He smiles, and takes one more over-exaggerated bite of his food before leaving.
I lay back down into my little makeshift bed. It can't be later then 7 o'clock. The sky is actually dark now, and the crackling of fire is prominent outside. I can actually breathe in here. There's no ash swirling in my face every five seconds, no smoke in my lungs. It's blissful.
No matter how hard I try, I can't stop my mind from going back to Luke. There's something off about him. I don't know what, but it's like he's in a constant state of pissed off or something. Weird.
Whatever it is, it doesn't matter. My family does. That's it.
After taking one last look at my lock screen, I roll over in the bed and close my eyes. Thanks to my exhausted muscles, sleep is easy to come.
***
Chunk. Chunk. Crack.
My eyes flutter open to the sound of what seems to be breaking wood. My head reeling, I reach a hand up to rub at my eyes and sit up.
Chunk. Chunk. Crack.
What the hell is that?
It has to be at least 2 am. Glancing once at Xavier, still sleeping, I unzip the door to the tent and slip out.
The wind is biting and cold at my bare arms, but the new pants and boots definitely help. I look around the campsite, but everybody else seems to be sound asleep in their tents. How has nobody noticed the noise? It's incredibly loud.
Chunk. Chunk. Crack.
The sound seems to be coming from the desolated trees a good hundred yards away from the campsite. Shivering, I grab one of the scratchy blankets from the tent and wrap it around myself before heading towards the sounds source.
I know I should probably stay out of this, in case this is the enemy and all, but my curiosity overrides my suspicion. Sure enough, when I get to the edge of the trees, the sound is louder.
Chunk. Chunk. Crack.
I move closer.
A sudden flash of movement dances across my vision, and my eyes snap to its source. At first all I can make out is a shadow, but then I see the outline of a boy, and when the figure turns I see the fiery blue eyes that intrigued me from the start.
From what I can tell, Luke doesn't see me. I hold my breath, slipping behind the nearest tree and peaking around it.
He's shirtless, and a layer of sweat shines from his chest. There's an angry welt across the front of his pectoral muscles, at least a foot in length. I must have hit him harder then I thought. The whole area is bruised. The only thing lighting the area is a dim little lantern hanging from one of the dead branches. He's got a dagger in each of his hands, the ring around his belt loop half empty, and he's twirling the blades as if they're pencils.
He's quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.
He's humming something, but I don't recognize the tune. His eyes are closed now, his black hair hanging in sweaty strips over his forehead. Then, in one fluid motion, he raises the knife in his right hand, whirls, and hurls it into the tree opposite of me. It sinks into the wood with a crack.
The other one follows seconds later, two inches from the previous. I watch, mesmerized, as he draws knife after knife off of his belt and throws them at the tree, forming a circle of blades. The aggression in which he moves is high and intense.
Finally there's just one left. He spins it around in his fingers, treating the blade as if it were precious, before he puts his back to the makeshift target he's created and sends the dagger sailing over his head.
It sinks into the middle of the circle with absolutely keen precision. Dead center. And he threw it backwards.
At first I think he's done, but then he braces himself, pulls another knife out of his boot, and bites the tip of it between his teeth. Placing his foot on the trunk of the same tree, he takes a deep breath, clenches his fist, and lurches forward.
He takes three large steps up the tree, almost as if he's running up it, and flips backwards. He sails through the air almost like in slow motion, landing on his feet with the grace of a swan. The knife hasn't moved, but when he takes it out of his mouth there's blood on the tip.
There's a short silence, me just staring in amazement, then:
"You know I can see you, right?" Luke pants, and my back stiffens. He doesn't even look up, just turns around to go and retrieve the weapons from the tree.
I contemplate leaving quietly and acting like this never happened, but decide not to give him the satisfaction. Bracing myself for the embarrassment, I step out. "Well, you kind of woke me up."
"And that gives you reason to stare at me from behind a tree?" He turns back around to face me, the ring of knives full again. A faint smirk is on his face. "You know, at least you were being secretive about it. Most girls just do it out in the open."
I curse myself for the heat flushing my cheeks. "Actually, I didn't know what you were doing. Thought you were an enemy or something."
"Well, you know now." He starts twirling a knife in his fingers again, turning away. "Go back to bed, sweetheart."
His use of the petty nickname prickles at my nerves. "I have a name, you know."
Luke files at his nails with the edge of the bloody knife, not looking at me. "Yes, Alexandra, everyone does. It's kind of a rule of society. Care to tell me your social security number as well?"
I narrow my eyes at him. "It's Alex. Call me Alex."
"Ok, Alexandra."
Exasperated, I throw my hands up in the air. "What the hell are you even doing out here? It's in the middle of the freaking night for Christ's sake."
"Sleep is a waste of time, and being this badass takes effort."
I roll my eyes. "Get over yourself."
His expression darkens, and he lifts those striking eyes to finally meet my own. "Considering I have a body count higher than your income will ever be, I'd rather not."
For reasons unknown to me, the goosebumps surface again. Everything about this boy is new to me. His permanent stern yet smug expression, the way he carries himself, his eyes. I've never met anyone that gives off an aura like him. Like I said before he reminds me of a black panther, sleek, mysterious and deadly.
"Well, fine. You just don't have to be such an asshole."
To my surprise, Luke just laughs. It's a cold one, like the kind you see in movies right before the killer catches its victim. "My troop takes you in, gives you food, clothes, and a place to stay, all while looking for your family at the same time, and you have the nerve to call me an asshole." He shakes his head. "Look, Alexandra, just stick to your business, and I'll stick to mine. It'll make this a lot easier for the both of us."
I just stare at him. In a way, he's right. But at the same time he's not. Food and shelter or what, there's no reason to be such a dick. Especially since we're kissing his ass in front of some big top military guy in return.
Luke stares right back at me, unwavering. We stand there for several moments, too proud to break the connection. Finally, I decide to let him win.
Scoffing, I turn around. "Fine. Hope that shit on your chest is slow to heal."
Even though I don't see it, I can feel the way his expression closes off again. "Goodnight to you too, Alexandra."
Anger festers in my veins. I let it go. It's not worth it.
With an anxious mind and clenched fists, I walk back to the tent.
***
Luke snaps three trees in half before he decides to stop for the night.
His blood is boiling. He can't stop staring at the red on the tip of that knife. The blood from his tongue. The blood caused from his mistake.
He never makes mistakes.
This isn't him. This isn't normal. All his life, from the time he picked up his first dagger, he's missed only twice. Once, the first time he threw one. And twice, just two hours ago.
Luke knew she was watching. His sharp hearing, obtained from years of practice, picked up the snapping of the twigs before she was even close. He knew it was her, somehow.
He knew.
It bothers him. It bothers the hell out of him. How he can't look at anything but Alex when she's within range, how he recognizes her voice above everybody else's even though he's known her for less than a day. He hates it.
This isn't like him at all.
He was shot, once. In the shoulder. On the banks of the Philippine Sea, moving in on Asian enemy lines. The pain was like lava in his bloodstream, burning away at his veins and crackling his bones. Somehow, when Alex hit him with that stupid metal pipe, it was almost the same.
Putting his back against the tree, Luke slides down to rest on the ashy ground. The sun peeks out over the desolated horizon. Another night, no sleep.
Something is happening to him. Something he can't explain. If he's going to kill the evil son of a bitch who did this to his country, he can't be like this. He can't be distracted.
Luke glares at the knife in his hands as if he could make it explode with his eyes alone. The dry blood gleams on the tip.
Taking a deep breath, Luke sets his eyes on a particular groove in the roots of the tree in front of him. With a fire in his muscles, he pulls his arm back and sends the dagger sailing through the air.
It hits its target. Where he intended it to this time.
•••
ok regular updates will start up, every Monday if all goes well :)
hella excited for this story.
xoxo
~Camryn