Backs Against the Wall

I don’t tell him, but I know when he looks at me that he understands it. He gets it because he’s lived it. And because he sees me, like really sees me, and I want to hide from him but I don’t. I don’t because it’s not so bad being seen. Not when it’s by the right person.

“Joss, I’ll sit here with you until—“

“Can I sleep down there with you?”

He’s shocked. Me too, but I meant it. I mean it. I want it.

“Can I?” I press when he doesn’t answer, only stares.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Yeah,” he stammers, making me smile faintly.

I grab my blanket and pillow then slide down onto the floor, onto his narrow mattress beneath me. When I lay down on my side facing the cage door, I feel him hesitate. I think he’s scared. Scared of scaring me and I’m worried about it too but I want to know. I need to know if I can have him close like I think I want him to be and not freak out. Not break into a sweat or scream or run or punch him in the eye. I want to see if maybe it won’t be bad at all because I think, I hope, it will actually be better.

And it is. When he lies down beside me, the length of his body ru

***

“Wakey, wakey!”

I snap awake, my body jerking in every direction. My elbow hits a hard surface and I hear a shout behind me. I roll across the floor, look at where I’d been laying and see Ryan lying on his back with his hands clasped around his face.

“Jesus, Joss!” he cries.

I tentatively reach out to him, not sure what I plan to do to help. “Did I hit you?”

“Yes, you hit me. You elbowed me in the mouth. Who wakes up like that?”

I drop my hesitant hand and glare at him. “A girl who grew up in the wild, that’s who. You shouldn’t have been so close.”

He stares at me in shock over the top of his hands still clutching his face. “You were holding onto me!”

“Is anything broken? Are you missing a tooth? If I knocked out a tooth, don’t swallow it.”

“You are the worst,” he grumbles, sitting up.

“What do you want from me? I’m not a nurse and I’m not especially maternal.”

When he drops his hands I see his lip is swelling on the right side. I got him good and it makes me feel awful inside. Sick in the pit of my stomach.

“An apology would be nice,” he says.

“Ryan, I’m sorry I hit you beca—“

“Nope, that’s enough,” he interrupts, putting up his hand to stop me. “If you keep talking you’re going to turn it around on me and the apology will mean nothing. Let’s leave it at you’re sorry you elbowed me in the face.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I am sorry.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“I overreacted. I was wrong.”

He grins. “Alright, Joss, don’t hurt yourself.”

“If you two are finished,” Taylor calls from the doorway, “I’d like to get started so we can get it over with and I can go do something else.”

“Like play Donkey Kong?” Sam asks, rubbing his eyes.

Taylor glares down at him. “Were you sleeping?”

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. They could have gotten out. Killed us all in our sleep.”

“Nah, they’re cool,” Sam says, leaning back against the wall, completely unconcerned. He points to me. “That one is seriously damaged. No offense.”

“None taken,” I say through gritted teeth. He’s not wrong, but still…

Sam points to Ryan. “He’d never go anywhere without her and she’s here for something. Needs something. Neither of them is going anywhere. And him,” he says, pointing at Trent. “I’m pretty sure he could have gotten out whether I was here or not, awake or asleep or dead. If he wants out, he’ll get out.”

“Your job was to watch them, not sleep.”

“Are they still here? Then I did my job. I’m grabbing breakfast.” Sam jumps up, heading for the door. He stops to point at me again. “Princess has requested eggs over easy, by the way.”

With that Sam is gone and Taylor is shooting me daggers. I shrug.

“I mean, I wouldn’t turn them down.”

He shakes his head, leans into the hallway and shouts, “Bring in the med cart.”

Ryan leans against the bars of our cage, standing beside me. Trent comes to stand beside him.

“What’s the med cart?” Trent asks.

Taylor waves his hand. “Nothing major. We want to take some samples. Well, not we. The nurses and doc want samples. I want you gone.”

Three more guards come into the room, one pushing a large metal cart that creaks and bumps over the uneven tiled floor of the hallways.

“Samples for what?”

“Information. We’ll just take some measurements on you. Do a few tests, if you don’t mind.”

“And if we do?” Ryan asks brusquely, eyeing a large needle on the top of the cart.

Taylor shrugs. “Then you leave right now.”

He sounds broken hearted about the idea.

“Just like that?” Ryan asks.

“Just like that.”

I shake my head. I’m not leaving this place, not until I get to speak to the council or someone of some importance. Not until I’ve tried. They can bring in all the needles, knives and scary med equipment they want, I’m not being bullied out of this place.

“Do your tests,” I tell Taylor defiantly, staring him in the eye to let him know I understand what he’s trying to do. “We’re not infected. We have nothing to hide.”

He smirks. “Not that you know of. But the infection rate isn’t what it used to be, not since The Cure,” he says sarcastically. “Thanks to that little beauty of a failure, the last we checked incubation took over a week before a person fully turned, meaning you’ll be locked in here for more than two. Are you prepared for that?”

It’s nothing new. It’s nothing we don’t already know or haven’t heard from him before, but the time frame is daunting. We can’t be in here for two weeks. I’ve already been away from the Colony for too long as it is. People didn’t have a lot of faith in me as a person to begin with. I doubt they’ve held out any hope I’ll come back and that makes me so desperately sad inside. That I’m still trying but I know I’ve been written off because it’s what I would have done. I would have given up and gone numb weeks ago.

“We don’t want to move in,” Ryan groans. “We just need to speak to someone. Someone who makes decisions for the group.”

“How do you know you’re not talking to him? How do you know I’m not the Grand Poobah? The king of the island?”

We all freeze when we hear a disembodied giggle from somewhere in the room. It’s small and light, childish. Girly. I scan the room, trying to figure out where it’s coming from. If maybe we heard it trickle down through a vent or if there’s someone hiding somewhere in the room. Then one of the guards bends down, throws open the doors on the bottom half of the cart and there she is. A young girl with long dark hair and brilliant, shining blue eyes peering out at us. She blinks against the sudden light, then her eyes fix on us inside the cage, taking each of us in one by one. She can’t be more than ten years old. Probably closer to nine. To eight.

“Beth, what the hell?” Taylor asks, exasperated.

She frowns, looking away. “I’m sorry, Taylor.”

“What are you doing in there?”

“Playing hide and seek with daddy.”

“Does he know he’s playing this game with you?” Taylor asks suspiciously.