“I know.” He did as I asked and, once we were enclosed in the blackness, I quickly started to change. I don’t know what came over me, exactly. Normally I would never have been so bold around anyone but my closest friends, but I knew he couldn’t see anything in the darkness, and I was afraid if I asked him to step out, he might leave all together.
I pulled the clean shirt over my head and stuffed the dirty one back in my bag. I sighed, “That feels so much better. Now if I could just get a hot shower, I think I’d feel like a human being again.”
“Is that all it would take?” he asked.
I thought a moment and then smiled. “Maybe an iced chai tea latte made by Sarah.”
“Is Sarah a friend of yours?”
“She
was
my best friend,” I said quietly, feeling the pull of memories.
“How long did you know her?”
“Since grade school.” I laughed and said, “You’re full of questions tonight.”
“Hmm, I guess I am. I suppose I’m just trying to learn more about you. You’re not like most girls I’ve known.” My chest tightened. I’d fantasized about him telling me a version of that line before in this very room.
“What about Lydia?” I asked.
“No. You don’t remind me of Lydia in the least.”
I thought about her shiny hair and flawless skin and hoped he wasn’t referring to those traits. I wanted him to elaborate, but he didn’t. So I pressed, “What’s she like?”
“Well, I suppose she’s what you might call ‘solid,’” he said after a moment.
“Grey, I hate to tell you this, but girls don’t like to be thought of as ‘solid.’”
“It’s not a slight,” he explained. “It’s the opposite of weak. Most girls wouldn’t like to be called that, I would imagine.”
“Yes, that’s true. But, I think if most girls were to ask a guy they were close with to sum them up in a word, ‘solid’ isn’t a word they would want used either.”
“Well, in that case, I would say she isn’t like most women you’ve met. She’s very focused and reliable. I think she would be pleased with the summation.”
Summation? I’d never used that word in my life. I ignored the thought and said, “She doesn’t sound very easy to be around,” with a bit of undisguised bitterness. This time I heard a genuine, full on laugh from Grey.
“No. No, she isn’t. Not like you, that’s for certain.”
The side of me closest to him was on fire, tingling with his close proximity. My fingers twitched a little, wanting to reach out and touch him. I reminded myself he had a girlfriend, and I shouldn’t embarrass myself by being forward, but I felt a closeness with him that seemed familiar and new all at the same time. It reminded me of Sarah and how easy it had been to share my thoughts with her. This feeling comforted me and, unable to stop myself, I blurted out, “I don’t think Lydia likes me very much.”
“What makes you say that?”
“I don’t know. She just seems cold around me.”
He thought a moment and then replied. “In her defense, you haven’t ever witnessed her around anyone else. Maybe she’s just like that?”
“Is she?”
“I think so... for the most part.”
“Do you think she would be upset if she knew you were here with me now?” I held my breath as soon as I got the question out.
There was a pause in the darkness, and then he quietly said, “I think she would prefer I be somewhere else.”
I waited for more, but he didn’t continue. I wished he’d make this easier on me. I felt like I was prying, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“How long have you two been together?” It hurt asking this question more than the rest. It was my first verbal acknowledgement of their relationship.
“A very long time. She’s my partner; we work very well together. We went to school together, we travel together...”
“Oh...” They sounded practically married. Realistically speaking, I barely knew him. I shouldn’t care. But I’d spent the last few months thinking of him when I desperately needed a mental escape, and this “companion” had been nowhere in those daydreams. I was jealous.
“Autumn, are you under the impression Lydia and I are romantically involved?”
“Aren’t you?”
“Not in that sense.” The statement hit me with a crashing wave of relief and excitement. She wasn’t his girlfriend. Everyone here assumed they were, but there it was, plain and simple. They weren’t together.
“Oh, um... I think everyone here thinks you are.” I tried not to let my excitement seep out.
“I know. People will think what they want to. But we’re not and we never have been romantic,” he said, without a hint of deceit in his voice.
“Don’t you like her?” I asked.
“Yes, of course.”
“Oh.” This time, I let the pause in the conversation sit there, not compelled to fill the silence.
“As a colleague. I’ve never felt any other kind of attachment. But we
are
friends.” I tried to breathe normally so my relief wouldn’t show.
“Do you have a lot of friends?” was all I could think to say.
“Not many,” he said.
“What about me?”
“Would you like to become my friend, Autumn?” His questioned seemed very clinical. But I didn’t really care at this point.
“No, I don’t want to
become
your friend.” That seemed to get him.
“But, you just said...”
I cut him off, “I think we’re already friends, as in present tense. ‘Becoming’ seems to insinuate we aren’t already,” I added.
“Oh, I see. And what brought you to this conclusion?” he asked.
“Well, you’re here now. And you didn’t re-open the door after I changed clothes.”
When he didn’t immediately respond, I went for broke. “You kept it closed, because it’s more intimate. If we weren’t friends, you wouldn’t care to be closed in with me for so long.”
“You’re right. We are friends.” He reached out and took my hand, and my heart skipped a beat. His body heat on my hand instantly made me start to warm. It was divine. I squeezed his hand, trying to signal I was happy he’d made the gesture. “I’d like to tell you more about myself sometime. Not tonight, though. But I think there are things about me you should know, eventually, if we’re going to continue to be friends.”
For the first time since we’d met, his voice sounded timid, as if he had a secret he wanted to spill. I wondered if he was going to tell me about the family members he’d lost in The Plague, or if it was something dire, something life changing. But I could tell this was as far as he was willing to let me in for now, so I decided not to press until he was ready to confide in me. If that time ever came.
“Okay,” I said. “But, since we’re friends, I think I should be honest with you, too. And I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”
“Oh? What is it?”
“I have to go back for Ben and Rissi.”
I heard him exhale a long sigh. “Your friends. I suspected you might, but you shouldn’t.”
“I have to.”
“I didn’t think The Front would become so aggressive. Our rules about leaving didn’t exist when I first told you about this place. On the next supply run, I’ll try to check on them.”
“But when will that be? A couple weeks? Maybe more?” I argued.
“Probably.”
“What if Ben never made it back? Rissi will have been alone for nearly three weeks by then.”
“I might be able to make it out sooner. I’ll bring them supplies.”
“And what if you can’t?”
“Please. Trust me. This is the only way to ensure your safety.”
“My safety doesn’t matter,” I snapped.
“I disagree. I wouldn’t have told you about this place if I ever thought that.” I detected a trickle of desperation in his voice.
“Please, Grey, help me.” I squeezed his hand, but he shook it loose and began to stand. I thought he was going to go, and I instinctively reached for him. But then he did something wholly unexpected. He sat down next to me and pulled me against him. I would’ve enjoyed it more if I didn’t suspect it was his way of quieting me on the subject. There was no way I was giving up on this, so I asked again, this time much softer. “Please.”
After counting forty-four of his heartbeats, he murmured, “I’ll think about it. Let’s make no decisions tonight, though.”
That was a no. I had my answer. In this moment I knew I had to make a choice. I could stay here, where I would be free to spend more time with Grey, or I could jeopardize any further dealings with him, and this group, by trying to escape. A small part of me wanted desperately to choose Grey, but in the end, I knew this would be my last night here with him.
I pulled away from him, drew my knees up under my chin and rested my cheek there. After the Crimson Fever, nothing felt more right than when I was close to Grey. Even with Ben and Rissi. And it made my heart ache to know that what I was about to do would build a wall between us.
I felt his hand on the nape of my neck. Warm. Heavy. Steady. I didn’t want to go. But I had to.
The next morning, I formulated my plan. First on the list was inventory. I dumped out my backpack and organized the contents on my mattress. There was a small blanket, a pair of jeans, three cans of soda, two chocolate bars, a lighter, a mirror, a hand crank radio, a digital watch, a pen and paper, and a first aid kit containing a pill bottle. I poured out the contents of the bottle. I found four prescription strength Tylenol, daytime cold medicine, four Aleve, a sedative and some kind of antibiotic, penicillin perhaps? I was surprised at how much thought Ben put into my satchel. He’d thought of every possible scenario.
I wrapped the digital watch around my wrist and pushed one of the buttons. It glowed bright green, revealing the time. I pulled my door shut and tested it in complete darkness. Not bad, I thought. This could work in place of a flashlight. I pushed the door back open and scanned my supplies, hoping for inspiration. This was all I had to work with.
After an hour of wracking my brain for a plan, I decided to take a break. I pulled out the small mirror, possibly to use for seeing around corners or starting a fire in case the lighter ran out of fuel. I used it now to give myself a once over. It had been days since I’d seen myself.
I was taken aback by the girl staring at me in the reflection. I looked older than I did before I left the penthouse. Maybe it was the thin layer of dirt, or the unkempt hair, but I was changing for sure. I was grateful it had been too dark for Grey to see me the night before.
Every day I stayed here, the less presentable I became. We were given our daily allotment of water each morning in two bottles to use however we wished. Sometimes that meant drinking it all, or drinking one and using the rest in a restroom sink to wash with. There was even one outdoor shower like the one Ben made for us in the corner of our bathrooms. Some people chose to save one bottle a day for a couple weeks and use it to fill up the shower.
So far, I’d been using one bottle to drink and one to wash with. I’d developed a system of washing my hair in the sink, and then using the soapy water to sponge bathe my body. It wasn’t ideal, but for the most part, it worked. All in all, it could be much worse.
It was still early, and I wouldn’t have to report for breakfast duty for a while, so I left my small room and tried to stay as inconspicuous as possible as I mapped out my plan of escape. I found the door to the hallway that led to the crawlspace. There was a person sitting on a folding chair by the door. A guard, I thought. That could be a problem. So I moved on and passed the room with the security monitors a little ways down the hall. Karl’s voice radiated out of that room like a menacing fog. I hated coming anywhere near this area. The radio was constantly on, monitoring The Front’s messages of “hope” to the people left in the city. And every now and again, I would hear him warning of the people hiding in “The Underground.” I assumed that was us. He talked about us like we were vermin, vile and untrustworthy. It made me nauseous, knowing what kind of lies he was spreading, and how convincing his silver tongue was. I wished I could find the radio station where he was broadcasting his devious messages, and burn it to the ground.
When I peeked into the surveillance room, I saw monitors showing the guarded door, hallway and crawlspace along with four different cameras streaming video. They looked like rudimentary webcams with some kind of night vision filter on them.
Leaving here was starting to feel impossible. I didn’t want to outright sabotage anything, because I wanted them to be able to defend themselves if The Front found their way through the secret entrance, but I needed at least a temporary distraction. I thought of setting a small fire, but discarded the idea because it might get out of hand.
In the end I decided to keep looking for excuses to walk past the surveillance room and tried to memorize the angles of the cameras. When I did manage to leave, I would take care to stay out of their line of sight. A couple of the cameras were the type that scanned the halls going back and forth. I did my best to memorize their timing using my digital watch and finally decided they were on fifteen-second intervals. At the top of the minute it scanned right, then left and then right again at the thirty-second mark. If I had the choreography right, I should be able to slip by unnoticed.
I kept walking in no particular direction as I thought about my plan. I decided to grind up the sedative from my bag and slip it to the guard somehow.
I stopped walking when I heard a familiar voice behind a partially closed door. It was Lydia.
“And you were there the entire night?”
I froze in my footsteps, unable to move. I strained to hear the answer, knowing it was Grey she was talking to.
“Most of it, yes.”
“That was careless.”
“I think she’s... interesting,” said Grey, never breaking his calm.
“Interesting? Have you lost your senses? I hope you’ve had your fill now. Can I expect you to be in your
own
quarters tonight?”
“Certainly. I won’t go to her again. I apologize if I’ve hurt your feelings,” said Grey.
I was suddenly embarrassed. But I couldn’t help but notice their strange choice of words. Quarters? Certainly? Who talks like that?
“My feelings have nothing to do with it. You should know better,” Lydia said stiffly. My heart broke into a million tiny pieces. Had Grey lied to me about their relationship? She was clearly angry at him for having spent the night with me. If she didn’t like me before, it was clear she hated me now.
I didn’t know what made me angrier, that Grey backed down so quickly, or the fact that it sounded like he lied to me about his relationship with Lydia.
“Enough of this. Shall we?” I heard Lydia ask.
“Of course,” Grey answered.
I shoved the door open suddenly, having no idea what I was going to say, but knowing I needed to confront both of them. I hated playing games, and I wanted to know, once and for all, if they were together or not. But the room was empty.
I stepped through the doorway, looking around. There was a mattress like mine on the floor and a folding table and chair. I recognized the jacket Lydia was wearing earlier. This must be her room. There were no other doors though. Where had they gone?
I looked again, more carefully, but there wasn’t much to see. I noticed a small air vent above the door and wondered if I heard their voices carry through it from another room. They didn’t sound that far away, though. It seemed like they were just on the other side of this door.
I left the room, feeling dejected, confused and irritated. I was suddenly even more compelled to get out of this wretched hideout. After tonight, I’d be on my own again. The thought twisted my heart and left me with an empty feeling.
I got to my room and closed the door. I stayed there for the rest of the day, skipping my daily chores. I told myself I was biding my time until the evening. I would need my rest if I was going to try to escape that night, but it was a lie. I was hiding, hiding from Lydia, and hiding from Grey. This small hole of a room was my refuge and soon, I would be glad to leave it and this encampment behind. I told myself I hated Grey, despite the things he had done for me.
The hours passed slowly, and I was thankful for the chocolate bars Ben packed for me. The candy I stuffed my face with prevented my stomach from growling at me in hunger. I drank one of my sodas as well. The sweets and carbonation gave me a stomach ache, but I didn’t care. Eating in my room kept me from having to wander out into the halls and join the rest for meals. I didn’t want to face anyone, not even Connie and Shad.
I knew I should go find Connie and tell her goodbye, but there was a part of me that was too afraid she’d try to stop me for my own good. I didn’t think she’d rat me out necessarily, but she would attempt to dissuade me, and I didn’t have any extra time on my hands for that. She had stayed with Shad in the infirmary the night before and would probably be there again tonight. I used the light from my digital watch to write her a note of thanks and begged her not to make my absence known if it’d gone unnoticed by the time she read the letter. I thanked her for her honesty and kind words and wished her and Shad the best.
I’d thought about leaving a note for Grey as well, but couldn’t decide what tone to take. I was confused about his feelings for me, if he even had any. I was frustrated by his strange relationship with Lydia and yet still fascinated by him. He’d shown such kindness to me, though, and I suppose I wanted to preserve him that way. I decided leaving nothing was the nicest thing I could manage.
The time finally came. It was around one in the morning, and it’d been at least an hour since I’d last heard any shuffling in the halls. I pushed the door open and looked around. The path was clear. I slipped back into the room and poured the crushed-up sedative in the one soda I had left from my bag. I hoped the guard on night watch had a taste for cherry soda, because there was no backup plan.
I tiptoed into Connie’s empty room and slipped the note under her pillow. I took a breath to steady myself. I held the tainted can of soda like a priceless artifact as I proceeded down the halls. After a moment, I saw my intended target. Good, he was already yawning. No one liked pulling night duty. I took another deep breath.
“Hey there,” I said, trying to sound as benign as possible. I’d never seen him before, and I could tell he was a bit perplexed as to who I was.
“My name’s Autumn. I don’t think we’ve met.” I stuck out one hand. He shook it. His firm grip scared me a little. I didn’t want this guy to catch me trying to escape.
“James. Why you up so late, Autumn?” So far so good, I thought.
“Oh, too much caffeine.” I motioned to the soda in my hand. I saw him eye it. Things like soda were a luxury here. “I’d been saving a few of these, but I forgot how they keep me awake.”
He seemed uninterested in what I was saying but was still eying my drink.
I chuckled and hoped it didn’t sound fake. I pressed on. “Matter of fact, I just opened this, but it’ll just keep me up the rest of the night. I’d hate to throw it away, you know?”
He seemed to perk up a bit. “That would be a shame. Is it cold?”
“Not really, but it’s still good. Really sweet.”
“Yeah, I bet.”
“Do you want it?” I held my breath, hoping he wouldn’t notice my shaking hands.
“Only if you’re sure.”
“Totally.” I handed him the can and as he took several long gulps I said, “I bet you could use the caffeine.”
A few more gulps, and he paused just long enough to say, “God, I miss these. I used to drink way too much soda. Ironically, since The Plague, I’m healthier than I ever was before.” He smiled almost boisterously up at me.
“Yeah, no such thing as fast food anymore,” I said with a laugh. I thought about that strange truth. Now that everyone had to work to survive from day to day, and all of the modern conveniences were all but gone, those of us who’d survived The Plague probably
were
all healthier than before.
I watched him finish off the last bit of the soda, hoping to God the sedative would be more powerful than the caffeine. “Well, I’m going to head back and try to get some sleep. Nice meeting you, James,” I said with a friendly smile.
“Yeah, you too. Thanks for the drink.” He waved happily as I started my retreat.
“Sure thing.” I turned and walked back to my room. I figured I’d wait half an hour.
I set the timer on my cheap watch and leaned back against my bedroom wall, resting my eyes. It felt like only a minute passed when the alarm went off. I tried to kick-start myself back into action, mentally chiding myself for allowing the small nap. It had only made me more tired and dulled my senses. I pulled on my backpack and slipped down the hall.
The guard was snoring with his head hanging limply to the side, and I felt instant butterflies in my stomach. My plan had worked so far, and now I had to follow through with the rest. I took another quick look, making sure no one was around, then I rested my hand ever so quietly on the door handle. I twisted it slowly and watched the sleeping guard. So far, so good.
I slipped through and pulled the door behind me, shrouded in darkness yet again. I illuminated the light on my watch. The hallway was now dimly lit in a lime green shade.
I found the theater Todd had led me through my first day here. From here on, I was less certain of the path. I hadn’t paid that much attention when I followed him. If anything, I would just keep going in the general direction of “down.” It wouldn’t matter if I came out somewhere else. As long as I found an exit, I could figure out how to get home from there. Having been raised in Los Angeles, one thing I knew was that I was never really lost. As long as I could find a major street and take it west, I would find the ocean, and from there it was a simple matter of heading north or south to find the marina.
I surprised myself at how quickly I found the familiar halls and doors from the security cameras. I quit using my watch to guide my way, knowing the light would definitely be seen on the cameras. It was pretty easy to skirt around where I suspected the static cameras were monitoring, and it wasn’t long before I heard the small whine of the moving cameras. I closed my eyes and pictured the monitors, recalling exactly which areas they overlooked. Then I covered my watch with my hand and held it up to my eyes. I pressed the illumination button and saw the time, making sure not to let any of the light escape from my hands. Once I had them timed to the second, I mentally counted down until I was certain the camera was starting to scan in the direction going away from me. I pressed myself against the left wall and followed it until I felt a doorway. From there I dropped to my belly and dragged myself silently across the hall to the adjacent door. I was still counting, and when I was certain the second moving camera was beginning its scan in the opposite direction, I stood up and followed the right wall down the corridor, occasionally sliding on my stomach as needed to move forward.