What Little Remains (The Fallout Trilogy Book 1) (9 page)

 

April 6

Chapter 11
 

I didn’t sleep well last night, tossing and turning. I
wasn’t hungry. I couldn’t get myself out of bed, so I just turned over and
tried to go back to sleep.

I still don’t want to get out of bed. My head is pounding,
partly from anticipation.
Ricky’s going to yell at me today.
I know that much. I just want to get past this.

Even after a night of sleeplessness, I don’t regret
yesterday. It just puts things in perspective. Now more than ever, I feel like
a caged animal, and I know that’s going to get worse. Ricky is going to tighten
the reigns even more. He might’ve already revoked my privileges to go outside
the wall, even for laundry or bathing, without a babysitter.

Any trust that I might have earned over the last six months
just went down the drain.

A soft knock on the door gives me a moments warning before
Daren pokes his head in.

“You’re awake,” he says, leaning against the door.

I don’t say anything but sit up in bed.

“You look like hell,” he says.

I slide my legs off the bed, stretching my arms. “Thanks
Daren. You know how to make a girl feel special.”

“You have to be hungry,” he says.

I slide on a pair of shorts under Ricky’s shirt and follow
him back out into the kitchen. Jack is sitting at the table, sliding a glass
between his hands. He looks up when I walk into the room.

There is food on the table, just some vegetables from the
garden. I sit, using my right hand to grab. My left one hurts when I move it. I
eat my tomatoes, ignoring the stares; Jack’s is one of curiosity while Daren’s
is more guarded.

Finishing my food, I lean back in the chair, stretching my
legs out. I thought the pain was bad yesterday, but today it is even worse.
John always reminds people that pain means healing. No pain means that we are
dead. John doesn’t have the best bedside manner.

I stand, wanting to see Nicole.

“Ricky wants you inside today,” Daren says, not meeting my
eyes.

It feels more and more like a prison every day, with Ricky
acting as the warden.

“Great,” I say. “Let me guess. You’re supposed to stay with
me.”

“We both are,” Jack says. “Ricky’s orders.”

“Wonderful,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “What about my
responsibilities here?”

“We’ve already found people to cover them,” Daren says,
shifting on his feet.

I walk back to my room. “I’m going back to bed.”

“I’m sorry,” Daren whispers as I pass him.

I shrug, and answer over my shoulder. “It’s my fault. I
forget that I’m dating a five-year-old.”

I close my door behind me and lay back on my bed. Lockdown.
I snuggle under the covers, turning on my side and closing my eyes. If the only
thing I can do is
be
in this house, I might as well
sleep.

Only sleep doesn’t come. I let my mind wonder, thinking back
to yesterday. Those guys were talking about McQueen.

The chances are slim that someone else with that last name
survived and lives in this area. If they’re talking about him, are all the
things they said true? How many people has he killed?

There is no way that the little boy I saw standing out in
the rain could do those things to those people. He had this tender side. I see
it, though admittedly I don’t see it as much anymore. He took the hand he was
dealt and adapted to it.

But…

He isn’t the same boy he was. He did what he does best. He
adapted to this new world. Becoming tougher and harder. He is controlling, and
I have seen his temper on more than one occasion. The flashes of rage that
break through and the fits of violence. It’s hard to know exactly what is going
on in his head.

He excelled quickly at learning how to shoot a gun and at
hand-to-hand combat. After a month, no one wanted to spar with him because he
was fast and rough. He could be capable of more than I ever imagined.

I shake the thoughts from my head. No. There must be some
mistake. Those scavengers had to be talking about someone else.

But then what was John trying to hide from me? Daren seemed
keen on making sure that John wouldn’t tell me something, but what? Were the
scavengers telling the truth? Are John and Daren covering it up? I could see
Daren doing that, but John? He’s never liked Ricky.

I blink. I guess they could be arguing about Ricky’s
slaughtering of innocent people.

It is obvious that anyone who’d know the truth is not going
to tell me. The only other place I could find the truth would be outside this
camp. If somehow I could find the scavenger who got away, he obviously knows
something. Not that I’m in a hurry to do that.

Where is he now? Who was he? I know Razor is in charge, but
how big is their group? If they do search groups with only two people, does
that mean that they are fairly small or just that they are confident?

A knock on the door makes me jump, and I roll over. I take a
deep breath, preparing for Ricky and for the argument we are about to have.

“Come in,” I call, clearing my throat.

Nicole pops her head in the door, a hesitant look on her
face.

“Hey,” I say, sitting up in bed.

She comes in, shutting the door behind her. She’s wearing a
baggy gray shirt that looks like one of Alec’s with a pair of shorts peeking
out from under it. She sits on edge of the bed and folds one leg under her on
the bed, another on the ground. She looks ready to jump into action.
 

“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay,” she says,
her eyes looking me over. They rest on my hands, a guilty look coming on her
face.


Nic
, it’s not your fault,” I say,
tapping her leg with my knee.

“It was my idea,” Nicole says, looking up at me beneath her
fiery hair.

“I wanted to get out of here more than you did,” I say,
placing my hand on hers. “I don’t regret any of it.”

She shakes her head, but her shoulders lift.

“How did you get past my bodyguards?” I ask, laying back
down and resting my arms across my stomach. “And what time is it?”

 
Nicole shrugs.
“Talent. And it’s late. Past dinner time.”

“Ricky hasn’t come by yet,” I say, biting my lip.

“Are you going to ask him about what the scavengers said?”
Nicole asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Maybe,” I shrug. “We’ll see how much yelling there is. How
come they recognized you?”

Nicole takes a deep breath. “It’s a long story.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I say.

“No, no. I’ve been keeping this in for way too long,” she
says. “Before Ricky brought me here, that guy, Jackson, found me. It was about
a week before I arrived here. I lived in a community much smaller than this;
only fifteen people. We lived in a cave, surviving off vermin. That group came
in and they killed the men. They played with me for a week while they used up
all of our supplies. You know that scar on my abdomen, and the one down my
back? They gave those to me and left me to die. I somehow managed to survive
for a week before Alec found me.”

“I had no idea.” I speak softly but keep my expression open.
Nicole doesn’t want to be pitied.

I always figured that something terrible happened. The scars
were jagged and the skin over them is angry and red. Not to mention the
terrible state she was in when she got here. She would jump when anyone tried
to touch her, but she doesn’t let what happened to her dictate her life. It was
watching her pull herself out of her darkest place that helped me get past my
own darkness.

She shakes her head, her eyes getting watery. “I didn’t want
anyone to know. I just wanted to move on. You know how I am. What happened to
me does not define me. But seeing that monster again yesterday brought
everything back.”

“I’m so sorry.”

A knock on the door interrupts us. Nicole sighs, leans over
and kisses my forehead. I notice a change in her facial expression. A mask
slips into place. I realize how big of a deal it is for her to tell me that.
Nicole hates to be vulnerable, and she just bared a secret she has been
carrying with her for a while.

“That’s my cue to leave. Daren agreed to a few minutes. I’ll
see you later.”

“Bye,” I say as she slides off the bed and leaves, giving me
a wink goodbye.

It must have been unbearable for Nicole to come face-to-face
with the men who attacked her. I can’t believe that she had to go through that.
She’s stronger than I ever knew. I want to thank her for telling me, but I know
she doesn’t want me to make a big deal about it.
 

I can understand why she is so willing to push the rules.
After being held against her will for a week, I imagine that any rules would be
stifling. And Ricky keeps a pretty tight hold on everyone. Maybe we aren’t the
only ones he’s suffocating.

I lie back down and let my mind drift. I can’t imagine what
Nicole went through. She lost her family during the storms. The survivors she
had been living with were murdered. Then she was tortured and left for dead.
Dealing with the mental scars is bad enough, but to have a physical reminder of
the suffering she went through is too much to think about.

“Charlie,” a voice calls.

I jerk up in bed, my heart pounding. I forgot about Ricky.
The urge to hide under my covers is nearly overpowering.

I slide out of bed, my heart still pounding. I walk over to
the door, resting my hand on the handle and my head against the door. I haven’t
seen what I look like, so I don’t know how bad my face looks. From the
soreness, I’m guessing it’s a lovely shade of dark purple. I roll my eyes. Why
do I care what he thinks of my appearance?

I take a deep breath and open the door. Ricky is sitting
alone at the table, his legs resting on top of it, leaning back in his chair.
His arms are folded in a peaceful gesture across his stomach, but his hands are
balled into fists. I sit in the chair furthest away from him, having a good
view of his face. His look is almost predatory as he observes me.

We just stare at each other, neither of us making a sound.
He looks rough but in a neater way than those other men did. His facial hair is
the only thing on his face, the dirt is gone and it looks clean. His nose is crooked
at the base where someone punched him in high school and then again four months
ago. He’s wearing a short sleeve black tee that isn’t tucked into his
camouflage pants. He has one gun strapped to his right thigh. He must have
given the rest up before he came over here.

He’s always armed, always on guard.

We still haven’t broken eye contact. I refuse. In biology
class, my teacher told us that breaking eye contact with a dog or wolf means
submission. I’m tired of bending to Ricky’s will. I want to know the truth
about what is going on here. For the first time, I am ready to have a fight
with him. I am not worried about him getting angry with me anymore. I am not
going to back down.

I didn’t realize before I saw him, how angry I was with him.
I’m furious that he’s played me and that he’s controlling my life. I want to
move on with him. I want us to be in a better place so that we can have a
future together. Before that can happen, we have to have this argument. We need
to clear the air before we can move past this. I need to hear him say that what
the scavengers said wasn’t true.

Ricky slams his hands down against the table, looking away
from me. I jump at the noise but do my best not to show any other emotion.

“God dammit, Charlie,” Ricky explodes, glaring at me. “How
can you be so incredibly selfish and stupid? Aren’t you even ashamed of what
you’ve done?”

“Why would I be?”

“You almost died. You put everyone who lives here in danger.
You put me in danger,” Ricky answers, his voice raising.

“You’re always in danger,” I answer. “As for putting
everyone here in danger, I would never have told them anything. And as for
myself, it is my life to live as I choose.”

Ricky shoots up from his chair and walks behind me. I stay
facing forward, my heart pounding in my chest. His hands grip the back of my
chair and he leans down toward me.

“You truly think that if someone was torturing you for
information that you’d hold up against them? You have no idea what torture is
like.”

He pushes away from the chair and starts pacing behind me.

“I know that I would never betray someone I love,” I say and
turn around to face him. “But can you say the same?”

He stops pacing and looks at me. “What did you say?”

I stand, walking over to him. “I would never lie about
something serious to someone that I love. Can you say the same?”

Ricky’s eyes harden. “What are you calling into question?”

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

He rolls his eyes, impatient with this line of questioning.
“You know I have. It’s part of my job.”

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