𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 no time to take control of what he believed was rightfully his, Mackenzie ordered the last group of children into the two rovers, giving each of them a dagger made by the blacksmith. Mack knew that this was his time to shine, Noah was nowhere to be seen and barely in the state of mind to lead a community.
"Chop chop, we've got until noon," he dictated. The kids sped up their pace, as West climbed into the driver's seat. Zara watched from afar, disappointed.
"Mackenzie," she sighed and crossed her arms. He walked over to her, towering over her like a menace. She uncomfortably stepped backwards.
"Zara," he grinned, "are you joining? We're teaching the youngers how to attack a walker today."
"You really don't like listening when Noah talks, innit?" she grunted. Mack rolled his eyes and also crossed his arms.
"Noah ain't here, is he? I'm taking the lead and we'll do what I say should be done, you get me?" he asserted. Since Murphy's death, Noah was absent, he was managing so much mentally that he wasn't fit to lead. Mackenzie knew that it was opportunity to enforce his laws.
"What will you do when Noah takes charge again?"
"If he ever does, I don't know why you assumed that I would be stepping down," he scoffed. She frowned, as he traced her jawline delicately.
"He had to put down Murphy. You don't even seem empathetic about his death and what Noah had to do. You barely sounded remorseful, last night."
"Of course I am, but someone has to be the strong one. Everwinter can't run itself. I just told him what he needed to hear, he knows the world has changed but he never likes to believe it. Noah is my friend, he always has been, I'm just doing him a favour. He's always stressed out so I'm taking the weight off of him," his fingers rested at her chin, lifting her face closer to his, "permanently."
"Mackenzie." she sighed again. They'd been friends for almost ten years, she knew exactly how he was, so it was disappointing to see him betray his own friend.
"Stop making that face, Zee. You know where I'm coming from, you agree with the plan."
"Yes, but you have to compromise. Noah said a few more months."
"Who knows? We might all be dead by then. Just come with us, I'll let you lead one of the teams," he smiled.
She stared at him, feeling sick by what he was saying, but failing to retreat. He could tell her was winning her over, he tilted his head and widened his smile with his plea.
"Okay," she said quietly.
"Good." he replied, dropping his hands as well as his smile. "Jump in with West."
He walked away with such illicit power like it were a crown, leaving Zara feeling like the worst friend in the world. Everwinter was the successful creation of those three friends, and Mackenzie was soon to bring it to the ground—Zara feared that wholeheartedly.
•
Sleeping soundly against his chest, Noah stroked Monet's curls as he stared at the ceiling. The sun beamed through his curtain, creating a beacon of light streaks across the room. It heated the bedroom like a gentle, campfire blaze.
Both of them had fallen asleep fully dressed—even still wearing their shoes—not worried about the discomfort but enjoying their closeness. Noah was glad Monet stayed with him, last night's ordeal was beginning to make him feel helpless. Her company was enough to bring him back down to earth.
His gaze momentarily fell to Monet, scrutinising her peaceful profile, as she gently snored. Doing his best not to wake her, he slid from beneath her and trudged to his bathroom. Moments later, he was emptying his stomach into the toilet. It was certainly better than getting alcohol poisoning.
He took a shower before returning to the bedroom, almost cutting his foot on the glass that he'd forgotten he'd thrown. He grumbled, as he diverted it, noticing that Monet was awake and mildly confused.
"Man said I slept in shoes," she mumbled, before acknowledging Noah stood by the bed in only a towel, "Oh, hey,"
"Hey," he answered softly. Monet looked around, before her eyes ran along Noah's body. The scars that she'd seen along his right arm seemed to cover a considerable amount of his torso. The words that he was bellowing last night instantly came back to mind, possibly explaining the cause.
Against the fact that she was intrigued, she didn't want to stare for too long. Though, Noah hadn't seemed to notice, he was more focused on how irresistible Monet looked at the break of dawn.
"Are you feeling alright? You did drink a lot last night." she questioned, breaking his trance.
"I just threw my guts up about twenty minutes ago so, better." he answered, gaining a light chuckle from her.
"Good, you look better, a lot better," He smiled gently at the sound of that. Sitting in momentary silence, Monet finally realised, "Oh, I should probably let you get changed. Sorry that I kind of just knocked out here,"
"No, it's cool, I liked your company," he shrugged.
"Well, you needed someone. Grief is a lot harder on your own." she said, getting onto her feet and walking around the bed. "I need to pee, then I'll be going,"
He stepped in front of her, pulling her close by her waist. He was so much taller than her that he towered way above her stature. As he cradled her round face, she tenderly placed her hands on his waist, feeling his smooth, tattooed but also burned and damaged skin.
She wasn't sure if he was going to kiss her, and she hoped he wouldn't—she reeked of beer and sweat. So she quickly spoke, "Noah, I stink of beer,"
He faintly laughed, a small smile revealing against his plump lips, "Way to bait yourself out,"
"Oh, shush," She knocked him in the stomach, and he giggled. His hands moved to her chin and he pressed a long, sweet kiss on her forehead that made her feel weak at the knees.
"Thank you," he whispered, meeting her eyes once more. Monet shyly smiled. "Get changed and come back, I want to take you somewhere."
"Okay," He smiled happily and released her.
"Bathroom is the last on the left, and don't step on the glass!" he warned.
•
Canary Wharf was a lot quieter, now that there was no life running through the district. The heavy hum of decaying dead followed Noah and Monet, as they walked through the streets. Noah wanted to keep to his word and take Monet to see The Shard. It would help her get her mind off of everything; hell, his too.
"So, what do you really want after Everwinter?" Monet asked, she fiddled with the straps of her fingerless gloves, as Noah wandered ahead. He turned back and walked backwards. "I was curious after Zara mentioned it a while ago. What do you really want?"
"Uh..." he slowed down and soon walked close beside her, pulling down his mask so that she could see his smile, "You know, I've always wanted a greenhouse."
"Really?"
"Yeah, a whole garden with a glass house, and pretty flowers, and a watering can," Monet giggled, "that would make this terrible reality a little bit better to live in, you know,"
"That's cute. I'll start looking for flowers to put in your garden for you," she replied, as they approached the tall, HSBC high-rise building.
"When Angelo ain't a problem anymore, we'll build it together." he grinned, opening the door for her. "Aight, let's get to the top," he then whispered. He unfortunately failed to notice the giddy smile that tingled against Monet's lips at the sound of that, before she concealed it with her mask.
They drew their weapons, scattering in different directions to clear the area. Monet turned the corner, holding her silent, dual blades. She walked into the back room and explored the asbestos-exposed walls. "Fucking hell," she muttered.
As she explored further into the dark room, she heard quiet sniffles and then uncontrollable coughs. She stepped back, knowing that she had to keep her distance with a croaker. The walker was probably trapped here for a very long time.
She waited for it to approach, soon coming to realise that it was a child, frail and exposed. She exhaled painfully. He probably came here to seek for refuge with a group, unfortunately not surviving. It came closer and closer, she hadn't even realised how close it'd gotten.
Waves of shock startled her body, as a silenced bullet killed the croaker. Monet heaved, relaxing to Noah's presence behind her. "They're way past dead, don't forget that." he whispered.
"Yeah," she replied raggedly. They continued, climbing the twenty-seven floors to the roof. Noah pushed the door open, feeling the cold, Autumn wind gush past them, and whistled at the sight of the city.
"Look at that! This ugly city looks great from up here." he smiled, he pulled off his mask and took a deep breath, "And apparently it still lives,"
They neared the roof edge to marvel at the sight of The Shard across the River Thames. Monet removed her mask and grinned deviously, "Told you you could see it from here."
He chuckled, "I guess you were right, Monet."
The comfortable silence sat between them, as they watched the view of the still, capital city. The breeze began to pick up speed, brushing Monet's soft curls against her cheeks. She gently closed her eyes, engulfing a deep breath. Noah memorised the city-scape, he was transfixed by how the destroyed city still somehow looked so beautiful.
They were so high up that nothing could be heard from the ground below. Peace had now become intangible, there was never a moment where stillness could be captured, so finally standing in the cool air of quietude was satisfactory.
"Noah," she whispered, he now focused on her slightly parted lips, "do you ever want to get revenge?"
"On who?" he quizzically furrowed his brows.
"Anyone, anyone that's hurt you, like my brother or Mack," she mumbled.
"Mack?"
"I-I mean, for Murphy, revenge on my brother for Murphy," she repeated, trying to clean up her slip.
"West deserves the same fate, but I can't kill your brother." Noah replied painfully.
"He killed your friend."
Noah diverted his eyes from her, "Angelo shot that gun."
She growled, her restraint diminishing. His fists clenched and he lowered his head. "Westley got Murphy killed, Noah, and he wants you fucking dead too! He killed our father, he even tried to kill me—"
"Monet," he grunted.
Anger was pulsating through her, the longer he held his silence. She wasn't sure if she wanted was validation for her vengeful urges against her brother, or if she didn't want Noah to hate her for it. But, it was only impotence that lined his shoulders and clung to his heart like chainmail. Noah sought peace and solitude, and the guilt of all the mistakes was gradually killing him.
"I just don't want anyone else to die." he whispered, releasing his tight fists. "Je ne veux pas que tu meures." Noah's voice was gentle and, for once, afraid. I don't want you to die. Afraid of the future that he knew wouldn't be as peaceful as he'd hoped.
"I'm sorry," Her hand found its way into his, he clutched it for the comfort in her words—but they lacked it. She stared ahead at the ruined city, the land was riddled of its power; and soon Westley would be too.
"But his time will come."