The Retreat (The After Trilogy Book 1) (17 page)

K
not 27 cheered as Deimos took wobbling steps.

Phobos hovered close by, face pinched in worry. The simple movement had the sick member of their group sweating and pale.

Romy caught Thrym’s eye; he gave a subtle shake of his head. Deimos’s hospital stay was now at two weeks and counting.

More than anything, she wanted Dei back with them. Things weren’t the same without him. In fact, the dynamics within the knot were a little . . . weird.

Since that day in the storage room, Thrym had been acting odd around her. Different. He touched her just as often; a held hand, a ruffling of the hair. But some barrier lay between them. Her best friend was closed off and felt inaccessible most of the time. Deep down, Romy had an inkling of what his problem might be. However, thinking about
Thrym being attracted to her on top of everything else was just too much.

If he was, then attraction could certainly be one-sided.

Thank goodness her relationship with Phobos and Elara hadn’t changed. Though she couldn’t say the same for the relationship between
them.

“What’s wrong, Ro? You look constipated,” Deimos joked.

She shook her head as the others laughed, a witty response eluding her.

“Phobos has filled me in on the plan,” Deimos continued.

Elara clucked her tongue. “Really? If anyone hears us talking, they’ll figure out what’s up.”

“Listen to you, sounding all Earth human,” Phobos teased. His smile fell as she glared at him.

Elara hadn’t been as bad lately, but she was still prone to flashes of PMS. Romy actually felt like she’d gotten a handle on the puberty business now. Elara’s prickly fury made her glad this was the case.

“What should we call it then?” Thrym asked.

“Catheter,” Deimos offered.

The group groaned in unison.

“That’s sick, Dei.” Romy grimaced.

“Exactly,” he stated proudly. “No one likes to hear about catheters.”

Romy giggled at the look on Elara’s face, which showed baffled agreement mixed with sheer disgust.

Phobos raised his hand in a fist-pump. Deimos weakly pressed his knuckles to his twin's.

Romy waited.

And ended up cracking first. “So don’t you want to hear about the catheter?”

Thrym’s composure cracked. The hospital room was too small for their laughter.

“Shh,” Elara hushed them. Tears streamed down her face. “Someone will come.”

Deimos looked around the isolation room. “The way I’m going, it will take me a while to regain strength. I don’t want to slow you down.” He hesitated. “If something happens—if
they
find us—you need to leave without me.”

Phobos stood up from his perch beside Deimos. “Did you really just say something that stupid?”

Deimos rubbed a hand over his face.
Is that stubble?
Romy wondered.

“I mean it. It’s been a while, but if the Orbitos or the Mandate find out we’re still alive, they’ll kill us to protect their secret. You have to leave at the first hint of danger.”

Elara’s voice cracked. “We almost lost you once. We can’t lose you again.”

Deimos studied their faces and shrugged. “No one likes ripping a catheter out.”

It lightened the mood marginally, though not for Phobos, who slid open the door and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

Deimos turned to the rest of the knot, eyebrows raised.

Thrym clasped the recovering man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s just puberty.” His face went red as he glanced behind him at the girls. “It’s knocking us all around.”

Consternation lit Deimos’s face. “What’s puberty?”

Romy and Elara shared a panicked look and scrambled for the door. That was their cue to leave. Thrym sighed as they rushed out.

Elara pulled on Romy’s hand to make her stop when they were just out of the door. Muffling a laugh, Romy crouched down, listening at the crack left in the sliding door.

“Man, where do I start,” groaned Thrym. “It sucks. The girls don’t really seem affected.”

Elara scoffed under her breath.

“But Phobos and I have had it bad.”

Romy and Elara both tensed at Thrym’s words. Suddenly, Romy didn’t want to be listening at the door.

“Any reason you two are blocking the hallway?” A whisper sounded in Romy’s ear.

She stifled a scream as she fell backwards.

“Houston,” she hissed.

He crouched next to Elara, who looked like she’d suffered a heart attack.

“You know,” he said, “you shouldn’t listen in on people’s conversations about puberty. It’s a very trying time.”

Romy blushed. “You’re right, we—”

Houston waved a hand at her. “Shh. I can’t hear.”

Elara fisted her hand in front of her mouth, her giggle still making it around the sides.

Against her better judgement, Romy crouched down again, thinking Houston was the most unethical doctor she’d ever met.

Thrym was still explaining. “Phobos said he had some luck thinking of Critamal females. He said it seemed to help it go down.”

Houston pushed his glasses up, shaking his head. “I prefer dead puppies, myself.”

Romy caught Elara’s alarmed look.

“Houston!” a voice screeched.

The crouched trio jumped at the piercing sound.

Heavy shoes stomped down the hallway towards them. Romy rose as she saw Tina strutting their way in combat boots. Houston placed a palm on her and Elara’s backs to press them forwards. Romy swore he muttered “Tina the Terrifying” under his breath.

But his smile was blinding. “Tina, what can I do you for?”

The petite woman snapped her fingers in his face. “Don’t give me that. There’s a medical emergency in the orchards. We need you there, not acting like a child in the halls.”

Houston snapped to attention. “Yes, sir!” he said before sprinting down to his surgery.

Tina’s gaze softened as she looked at Elara. “Elara, dear. How are you settling in? Mr James has said you’re catching on very quickly.”

Elara beamed under the praise, while Romy inwardly gaped.

“Thank you, Miss Rogers. I find it all fascinating.”

Tina’s laugh tinkled. “Please, call me Tina.”

Seriously?

Pink with pride, Elara grabbed Romy’s hand to go. As though with great effort, Tina turned her fierce green gaze to Romy.

“Yes, Rosemary. Run along to the archives now.”

Romy sarcastically mimicked Houston’s salute. “At once, Miss Rogers.” She wasn’t quite brave enough to call the woman “sir”.

Tina’s eyes narrowed at the motion and Romy’s insides shuddered a little. Trust her snarkiness to decide to show up at the worst time.

Elara squeezed Romy’s hand. She broke away from Tina’s perusal.

“Just try not to make any innocent children cry.”

Romy ground her teeth as she strode away, hand in hand with her knot mate.

They pair got outside into the fresh air. Fresh was not entirely accurate; it was muggy, similar to the weather before the storm on the beach. Romy hoped there wouldn’t be a repeat of the three-day onslaught of rain.

“So, Tina doesn’t like
you
very much,” Elara started.

Romy looked back. “Yeah. Can’t say I feel any differently.”

“Because of Atlas?”

Romy turned to stare at her friend.

Elara winked. “He's always staring at you.”

It was Romy’s turn to go pink. “No. I don’t think that’s why.”

But Elara continued. “Well, Tristan, one of the sentries, said Atlas and her get it on.”

She felt her eyes widen in response. “Reproduce?”

Elara snorted. “Well, kinda. But without the kid. But yeah, they sleep together.”

Sleep together. Present tense.
Romy felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. She swallowed her reaction with difficulty. Elara continued on, oblivious to the injury she’d dealt her friend.

“I mean, she’s welcome to him, right? He’s scary.”

Romy echoed her empty agreement.

* * *

A
t some level Romy had known there was history there. Why else did Tina touch Atlas so much? But it hurt that she was so attracted to Atlas, only to find out he liked someone else.

She found herself overanalysing the kiss on the cheek. Did he take a breath because he was shocked? Or worse, did he see her advances as childlike? He didn’t look all that much older than Romy, though he was always so confident and self-assured. Did he view her as someone too young to be attracted to?

She was proudly embarrassed, and a little excited about the kiss before today. Now she was mortified. Avoiding Atlas sounded like a good idea.

No wonder Tina didn’t like her. Romy felt guilty for overstepping the boundaries. She’d read enough Earth material to understand relationships were mostly monogamous. And from her observations, the people in the settlement seemed to stick to one person.

Romy scanned a document on tidal measurements in the 2020s. Every piece of information she’d read from 2020 to 2040 documented the same trends—rising water level, increase in temperature, spread of disease, loss of animal species, and the inevitable, astronomic loss of human life. A piece of paper she’d scanned yesterday detailed the death toll. Most were from low socioeconomic areas. Many died from disease, most from malnourishment.

Placing a book titled
Marketing for Dummies
to one side, Romy’s eyes landed on a squashed poster below it.

The rubber band snapped as soon as she touched it, cracked and dried from age. The poster unfurled and excitement burst within her as she saw what it was.

A map!

A swishing collapse sounded behind her. Romy turned, expecting to see another toppled column. But her heart raced at the soldier dressed in camo holding a gun in the doorway.

She dropped the map, purposefully clumsy, so it floated down out of view.

Romy recognised the soldier. It was the pale, black-eyed man who had looked at her strangely in the entranceway that day Atlas refused to give her another task. The man had been following Tina somewhere. The only reason Romy remembered was because he was looking at her in the same creepy way right now.

“You scared me,” she said, smile firmly in place.

The man had the kind of wiriness that could either be weak or incredibly strong. As his black gaze swept over her from head to toe, her instincts screamed it was the latter; that this man was not someone to be messed with.

The gun dangling within easy grasp did nothing to dispel her uneasiness.

“I was told you were in here,” he said.

Romy said nothing. Did Tina tell him? Was that why he was here? Was Tina laying down the law?

She waited for him to get to the point.

“I have a few questions for you.”

Romy smiled again, deciding to play the fool. “You need a reference? I’m afraid I might not be much help until I’ve got this mess sorted.”

The man smirked, sauntering closer. “No. Not a reference.” He tilted his head to the side and settled on her chest. She wore a white T-shirt today. She’d been self-conscious putting it on because it was made for a child. His look made heat fill her cheeks.

He circled even closer and she resisted the urge to run for the door. The way he stared and the way he was invading her personal space made the bile rise in her throat, burning its way to her mouth.

“Now you’ve got it.” He congratulated her.

Trying to be circumspect, Romy scoped out the storage room. After a week here, she knew the place back to front—literally. There was one way in and one way out. And it was on the other side of this man. Unfortunately, the room was long and narrow. It would be hard to get past the soldier.

She decided to take the Critamal by the pincers. “What do you want?” Romy said flatly, arms crossed over her chest.

The soldier rushed at her. Before she had time to scream, he was right in front of her. Romy couldn’t help stumbling backwards in fright.

“I wouldn’t mind a few things from you, darlin’. Pretty sheila like yourself. But for now, you’ll be telling me all about how you came to land here on Earth.”

A deep, consuming beat drummed in her ears. He was under Tina’s orders. Did Tina work for the Mandate? Atlas’s warning never to reveal the truth echoed in her ears.

“We’re here on research,” she said. The monotone reply sounded like a lie even to her.

The man reached for a strand of her hair and she swatted his hand away, moving along the wall to put distance between them. She was loath to step on top of any of the papers. These were historic documents.
Easily damaged
historical documents.

“We both know that’s a lie, darlin’,” he said. The man rested his finger on the trigger of his weapon. The message was clear.