What Little Remains (The Fallout Trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

April 8

I wake up before Nicole. I finish getting ready and head to
the door.

“Where are you going?” she asks, sitting up.

“I’m going to talk to John.”

“Okay,” she says, lying back down. “I’m here if you need me.

I nod my head and open the door only hesitating for a second
before bolting out into a downpour. I realize how much she risked by telling me
and why she waited. If I had gone to Ricky, telling him what I had learned from
Nicole, he would have killed anyone who was involved before it ever got into an
uprising. She really trusts me, even now, to walk out this door knowing that I
could go tell Ricky everything.

The sky is a light gray, and the water is pouring down in
sheets. The ground is mud beneath my feet. By the time I push open the door to
John's cabin, I'm soaked.

"It better be a bloody emergency—" John
yells from his room. He walks out, zipping up his pants, his belt unbuckled. He
doesn’t have a shirt on, and from the red blotchiness on his stomach, chest,
and face, I’m guessing I caught him at a bad time.

"Oh," he says, his voice gruff. "What do you
want?"

"I need to talk to you," I say, a shiver running
through me. I don’t know if it’s from the cold or from knowing what I just
interrupted. "But seeing that I interrupted—"

Megan comes out of his room, buttoning her shirt. Her hair
is rumpled and her mouth red. She gives me a small smile and kisses John on the
cheek.

"It sounds important, and I have to get to work
anyways," she says.

John hugs her, leaning down to whisper something in her ear.
She giggles before kissing him again and running out into the rain.

"I'm sorry," I say awkwardly closing the door.
"If I had known you were occupied...”

"You still would've interrupted," John says,
tiredly dragging a hand over his face. "What did you want?"

"Answers," I say grabbing one of the towels and
using it to dry myself. "I know that you've been lying to me. You’ve been
keeping a very dangerous secret for Ricky."

John sighs and sits on the ground slowly, like he’s aged
forty years. "How did you find out?"

"He had a secret meeting last night. I snuck out to
listen to it. He admitted to everything."

John shakes his head. "He's been so careless lately.
People have already started to figure it out. Though I’m guessing a certain
redhead had something to do with getting you to that meeting. I told Alec not
to overwhelm you like this."

“You know about Alec’s involvement?”

“Of course. Alec approached me first. He knew that I
couldn’t start something because Ricky is already suspicious of me. He’s
running the whole thing and keeping me in the loop.”

I push myself away from the door and plop next to him.
"Why didn’t you tell me?"

A bitter smile forms around John's lips. "He threatened
to kill anyone who did. Besides you weren’t ready to hear something like that.
You've just begun to dig yourself out of your depression. News like that could’ve
sent you spiraling back in. I wasn’t willing to risk that. Not when you are the
only hope we have to stop him."

"Me? Why would he listen to me? He has never listened
nor will he ever listen to me.”

John smiles and shakes his head. “Charlie, you have no idea
how much power you have here. He would walk through fire for you.”

“He’s sure started enough fires to put that theory to the
test.”

“I know you don’t believe me, but if you put your foot down,
he’ll listen to you. Nothing scares him more than the thought of losing you,”
John says, nudging me with his shoulder.

“So you want me to what? Tell him that if he doesn’t stop
his bad behavior that I’ll leave. We both know that he’d never let that
happen,” I say, thinking about what he said last night. I won’t ever let you
go.

“Have you talked to him yet? At all?”

“I tried to, but I realized too late that he was drunk. He
put his fist through the wall right by my face. I don’t know what to say to him
now.”

John’s face tightens. “I didn’t realize that was how he
injured his hand. That would explain why his self-loathing was more noticeable
than it usually is.”

“What should I do?”

“I can’t answer that,” Johns says.

“John,” I groan. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Both,” John replies with a sad smile and, after a
moment, he stands up slowly, his knees popping.
 
“Just make sure that he’s sober.”

He needs to play his big brother card and tell me
what I have to do. God knows I can’t decide this by myself. Clearly my judgment
is down the toilet. My feelings are so muddled when it comes to my feelings for
Ricky, but there is this giant hole that has been ripped out knowing that he
lied to me. Talking about it, admitting that this really
happened,
changes everything. I could pretend that it wasn’t true, but talking to John
has made it real. I’m eighteen. I never thought I would ever have to deal with
something this serious, especially at this young of an age

 
“Do you
mind if I stay here for a minute while I figure things out?” I ask, pulling my
legs up to my chest and resting my forehead on my knees. I take a deep breath,
and then another. The questions in my head are endless.

“No,” John says standing up. He gives my head an
affectionate pat. “I’m getting breakfast. Take all the time you need.”

He leaves after grabbing a shirt, and I do my best
to hold it together until the door slams shut behind him. The sound echoes in
the room, and I close my eyes.

I put too much pressure on him. I asked too much.
Ricky was just a teenager, and I put the weight of my pain on his shoulders.
No. This isn’t my fault. I’m not going to blame myself for something I had no
control over. I can’t control him or his actions. I will not be with a
scavenger.

Everything I know about Ricky tells me one thing:
he’s not going to let me go without a fight.

I take another deep breath. It took me months to
climb out of that cocoon of pain to get where I am today. Ricky is such a huge
part of why I made it this far. He saved my life. As much as I want to, I can’t
deny that I do love him. Even when he makes me angry, I couldn’t imagine not
seeing his face every day. I can’t imagine not loving him or him not being part
of my life. When the ground was falling out from under my feet, he was my Peter
Pan and taught me how to fly. He helped me remember the happy memories of my
family and fight the nightmares that followed their death.

I will never forget that. I could never forget
that. But I can’t forget what I just learned either.
 
I won’t look the other way.

I let out the rest of the air in my lungs, sending
up a quiet prayer that I’m not as dumb as I think I am right now. If Ricky
doesn’t stop what he is doing, there is nothing I can do to make him stop. I
have to choose between
who
I think I love and what I
know is right.

My heart shatters into a million pieces, and I feel
each one stabbing my chest. The pressure builds at the back of my throat again,
but I take a deep breath, calming myself.

I have to make a decision. I have to decide whether
I am going to stand behind Ricky as he continues to murder innocent people, or
if I am going to stand against him with Nicole and Alec. I know Ricky. If a
threat against his power makes itself known, he would stop at nothing to
eliminate it. If I stood against him, it would end up with someone dying. I
don’t think Ricky would kill me, but he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Nicole or
Alec. And they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him.

I have to talk to him. I don’t know what will
happen. He might listen to me, or he might blow me off and keep doing what he
is doing. I can’t fret about this all day. I won’t. But I won’t know what will
actually happen until I talk to him.

He’s asleep when I walk through the door. His arm
is draped over his eyes, the blankets kicked to the floor. His stomach goes up
and down as he breathes, and, after a few moments, I squat down, running my
hand up his arm.

“Ricky,” I whisper.

Waking him up isn’t easy. Most of the time he jumps.
Sometimes he grabs the gun that’s under his pillow or the knife he keeps in his
boot. Once he realizes it’s me, everything’s fine, but his instinct to shoot
first has nearly ended very badly for me.

He wakes up slowly, his muscles tensing.

“It’s Charlie,” I say before he can reach for
anything.

He groans, keeping his eyes closed. “Is everything
okay?”

“We need to talk,” I say, standing up. “You need to
wake up.”

“What time is it?” he grumbles, rolling over on his
stomach.

“Late. You overslept. By a lot,” I say as I walk
over and sit down on the table.

He sits up, running his hand through his hair. He
looks confused as he stands, wobbling. He keeps his eyes closed as he stumbles
over his feet to go sit at the table. The only time he is clumsy is when he is
hung over. I push food towards him, but he grunts, pushing it away.

“You at least need water,” I say.

With his eyes still closed, he downs the glass I
put in front of him. Slowly he opens his eyes, letting them adjust to the dim
light. He looks at the table for a while before looking up at me.

“What do we need to talk about?” he asks,
exhaustion clouding his voice. He slides his hand over mine and squeezes
it.
 

I practiced this part over and over again. “I know.
About everything.
About the
scavenging.
About you.
I know it all.”

I give it a moment to sink in. This is the part in
my head where he apologizes. This is where he realizes the error of his ways.
He will promise never to do it again.

Only he doesn’t.
 

He doesn’t say anything. He looks at our hands, his
eyebrows coming together, the corners of his lips turned down.

I wait, holding my breath for a response. No
response comes.

“Don’t you have anything to say?”

“What do you want me to say?” Ricky asks.

I remove my hand from under his. “I expect you to
say something.”

“I’m glad you know now.”

“Oh, you are glad I know now. Good, so now you can
be honest with me as you go out to kill innocent people.”

“Charlie, you don’t
underst
—”
Ricky starts, but I cut him off.

 
“Don’t
you dare tell me that I don’t understand,” I say, having to fight to keep from
yelling. He is using that voice. That stupid voice that used to make me want to
melt inside, but disgusts me now that I see what he is using it for. He used it
to manipulate me so that he could always get what he wanted. After all, who
wouldn’t believe someone with the voice of an angel? He has always known my
weaknesses; I never dreamed that he would use them against me.

“After everything that we have been through, don’t
you dare tell me that I don’t understand what’s going on
here.
How could you do this? Why would you do this?”

“Charlie, why do you think?” Ricky yells, and then,
with an obvious effort, he manages to lower his voice and forces a smile. “I
did this so that we could survive here. I did this so that we—you, me,
and all the other people here—would have the possibility of a life. A
life that is safe, where we never have to worry about being under attack.”
Ricky’s voice has turned to pleading, as if he could make me understand.
“Please Charlie; can’t you see that I’ve done this for us?”

“No, you’ve done this for you. If I had known, I
would’ve starved instead of letting you take food from people. I would not have
let you steal from innocent people or burn down their homes. I’d never have
stood aside as you murdered people,” my voice cracks. “I wouldn’t have fallen
in love with a scavenger.”

“I don’t believe what I’m doing is wrong,” he
disagrees, shaking his head. “In times of war, there are casualties.”

“Don’t use that bullshit line on me. This is not a
time of war. Six months ago, it was a war zone. We don’t even know how many
people died. But this, this time right now, is rebuilding. And if you don’t
think that what you are doing is wrong, why didn’t you tell me about it?”

 
“Charlie what do you want me to say? That
I steal supplies from other people so that we can survive here?” Ricky asks.
His tone is agitated as his eyes stalk me while I pace across the room. “I do
it so that you can have a life and not starve or be cold. I’m sorry I lied to
you. I was only trying to protect you.”

“You don’t need to do it anymore. I get it. I get
why you felt you had to do this,” I say, stopping and looking at him. “Tell me
you will stop. Tell me you’ll stop, and we can move on, past this.”

“I’d be lying to you. I’m not
gonna
stop,” Ricky says, his voice quiet, but there
is no remorse. As his eyes follow me, the anger in his tone starts to
disappear.

“Ricky if you don’t stop, I’m going to—” I
start, but this time Ricky cuts me off.

“You’re
gonna
what?” he asks, his voice filled with unconcerned laughter.

I open my mouth but close it before anything comes
out. I know exactly what I’ll do. But he can never know. I know what Nicole is
planning. I won’t watch him die or lose Nicole.

“You don’t have anything to threaten me with. You’ve
already moved out and broken my heart.” He laughs bitterly.

I keep my mouth shut, and he continues.

“Listen, I understand that you don’t like what I’m
doing, but I’m doing it because it’s what’s best for everyone here. Now, if you
will excuse me, I’ve got work to do. We’re going back out, and I have meetings
to plan.”

“I trusted you.” I ask. “I should never have let
you into my heart.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Ricky chides. “You had to have
realized what was going on. I was still bringing back supplies after this much
time. And I wasn’t running into survivors? Come on, Charlie. I remember you
asking about that. You stopped asking questions. You had to realize that I was
getting my supplies from somewhere.
 
Don’t act all high and mighty when we both know that you stopped asking
questions. You’d have done the same thing.”

“No,” I say. “I wouldn’t have. I couldn’t do that
to innocent people.”

“First, Charlie, no one is innocent. Not even you.
Second, do you truly believe that you could let those children you spend so
much time with starve? I’ve seen your nature, I know who you are,” he says.
“I’ve seen behind that mask, as you now see behind mine. You would do anything
and everything in your power to keep those children from dying. You would have
stolen, and you would have killed. I did it so that you would never have to
make that choice.”

I open my mouth to argue, but the words die in my
throat. I can’t argue because I would have done everything in my power to keep
those kids safe, and I know that. I would have stolen or lied to get what I
needed. But murder? I don’t think that I could do that. I couldn’t take the
life of another child just to save one of mine.

“No,” I say softly, looking him in the eye. “I
wouldn’t have murdered people. I couldn’t. And even if I understood the
insanity that was going through your head, why keep doing it? We have more than
enough food here to feed everyone. We will survive. There is no need to kill
people.”

“You have no idea what you would be capable of if
you were actually in that situation. No one does until they are faced with it,”
Ricky says, his voice carrying a deadly edge.

“I understand why you feel like you had to do it,
but I’m asking you to stop now,” I say standing up. I walk over and sit next to
him, putting my hand on his knee. “I know that I put too much pressure on you
to keep me safe. I made you feel like you had to go to these extremes, but you
don’t anymore.”

He gets to his feet, picking up both of my hands. I
stand with him as he brings my hands up to his lips. He closes his eyes,
pressing his lips against my hands so gentle. He opens his eyes and looks
straight into mine.

“I don’t want to stop,” he whispers. “And nothing
you can do will ever make me.”

I try to pull my hands from his but he holds on
tight. “Don’t push me, Ricky. I can’t be with someone who murders innocent
people. I won’t be. I’ll never talk to you or look at you again. Don’t make me
hate you.”

Ricky yanks my hands towards him and pulls me so
that our faces are inches apart. He wraps one hand around both of my wrists and
uses his free hand to touch my face. He traces lines from my eyes down and
around my mouth. I’m too scared to fight.

“You’re so beautiful when you are angry. Have I
told you that?” he asks and covers my mouth before I can answer. “I love you,
Charlie. I understand that you’re angry right now. I understand and can respect
that. But don’t pretend that you haven’t been lying to me too. I’ve been very
lenient with you. Letting you do as you please. But make no mistake; I have
absolutely no intention of letting you go. Ever.” Tears fill my eyes as my
wrists start to throb. He makes a shushing sound and kisses my nose. “Baby, I
love you. But this is your final warning. Don’t tell me what to do. Don’t
threaten me.”

He releases my hands, and I turn away from him,
holding my wrist in my hand. Tears stream down my face in anger and at the
pain.

“I’ll send John in to look at your wrist,” Ricky
says standing up and walking towards the door. “You don’t seem too well. Why
don’t you stay inside today?”

I keep my face hidden from him and wince as he
touches my shoulder. He kisses the top of my head.

“I’m sorry that we fought. I know this has been
hard on you. But know that I am doing this for you. I love you. And I know you
love me, even if you don’t know that right now.”

He leaves a moment later, after getting no response
from me.

I look around this building. There used to be so
many good memories in here. So much love. Tender kisses. Stolen moments. Now
all I see is the hole in the wall.

I should have realized that something wasn’t right.

What have I gotten myself into? I read books and
have seen movies. I know the signs of dating violence
;
the isolation from friends, all the fights being my fault, the escalation from
grabbing my arm to hitting the wall.
And now this.
It
has taken this for me to finally see the truth.

What do I do now?

Some part of me truly believed that he would listen
to me. That I could convince him to stop what he was doing. That it wouldn’t
end with Nicole and him killing each other. I thought that I could fix
everything. How did everything become so twisted?