8
Vulnerabilities
i
The sharp rattling of locks startled Stacey awake. Someone was coming in. After Silvin was done speaking to her and murdering her friend, she had been hauled off down the hall and locked in a cramped, dingy restroom. She’d sat on the stiff floor for hours, one arm stuck in a lifted position—wrist handcuffed to the towel bar—and left to cramp in what was effectively solitary confinement.
____Bad as it was she at least enjoyed the privacy, soured only with the knowledge that it would inevitably end. The only bulb above was broken and she just sat in the dark, waiting for whatever horrible thing would eventually happen to her. Now light spilled in on her as the door opened, then all went to black again as a massive figure entered, all but blocking the doorway. There Mardew stood.
____He wasn’t wearing his helmet now: an ugly face marred with sunken lines greeting her. He looked angry, though Stacey could tell that was simply his neutral expression. Silently fuming was the best his mood got. She gave him a good scowl back as she stood.
____He approached, “Silvin is treating you to dinner.”
____Stacey shoved her hunger to the back of her mind. She maintained her frown as he unhooked the cuff from the bar, “And if I don’t want to partake in his clichés?”
____“There’s no choice in the—” Mardew had to stop as she ducked past him and just ran out the open door the second she was freed. The giant man sprinted after her, surprisingly fast, catching her and throwing her against the metal wall: sparing nothing to account for her size or gender.
____“Oh!” Stacey yelped, quickly pinned. The man was comically larger than her, ignoring every kick she gave him as he grappled her. The free cuff was moved to her other wrist, and with that he yanked the chain and dragged her like an unruly pet down the hall and back into the office.
____A table covered with fresh food had been set up there, almost a shocking sight in itself. Stacey hadn’t seen an actual meal since VACC: the government-backed lab all funded and ready to go since the outbreak. Where had all this come from? Part of her wondered if it was somehow all fake: an elaborate trick would almost be easier to believe.
____Mardew threw her hard into one of the empty chairs. Stacey reeled into the seat, sitting up right into his backhand as she righted herself, “You expect me to—
Oh!!”
____It was force enough to simply knock her out of the chair and onto the floor. Her captor circled around and hoisted her back up, dropping her into the seat again. One big hand rested atop her head, palm pressed and forcing her to look up as he spoke:
____“Quit yapping. Consider yourself lucky that Silvin is so fond of wasting time and resources playing supervillain.” He growled, “I’d have you handcuffed to a cot naked in the barracks where the men could get their fill of you, if you were to serve any purpose at all here. Then in the morning I’d take you out and shoot you like a dog. We did all the time in Ituri back when I was PMC. And no, you wouldn’t get dinner first.”
____Stacey said nothing, refusing to give him the pathetic gratitude he was trying to wring out of her. As expected this made him angry, and he moved to strike her again.
____“Are you listening?” He scolded, “I’ve got so many undisciplined monkeys to work with, you know. They’re starved for pretty little things this many months in!”
____“That’ll do, sir.” Silvin came to her rescue, standing there at the open door with his arms pressed against the jambs. He grinned and strolled in, “Methinks she’s too dead inside to be scared by your talk. She has you and me for company, and her friend was just killed. Right now she just wants to die, so save your breath. Why not retire for the evening?”
____“Hm. Yes sir.” Mardew relented his grip on Stacey and stood up straight. He seemed more obedient to his superior today, if nothing else, “I’ll be gone tomorrow, sir. Elias is sending transport to pick up myself and a contingent from here. The bunker in Topeka got busted and they want us to help sweep up any stragglers.”
____“Leaving now that the cure’s confirmed gone? I figured. How many are you taking?”
____“A little over a dozen.”
____Silvin snorted, “Ha! Leaving me barebones as usual, that blonde bastard. Well, enjoy your trip and don’t forget to file all your complaints once you’re back with Babyface.”
____“Sir.” The giant turned and left, shutting the door behind him. It was quiet.
____Silvin held his arms tightly behind his back and gave the closed door a gleeful little smile. He then moved to sit down across from her, “Chin up, Stacey. You must appreciate your luck when you can. I’m
certain those were only half-empty threats. Why risk one of those imbeciles getting attached? Mardew’d likely just kill you. And of course had it been Vigil who’d found you instead of yours truly he’d already be between the legs of your corpse hours ago. It must really sour you, after your earlier experiences… knowing that I’m not the worst of them. Truthfully I’m still getting used to it myself.”
____No answer.
____He leaned back and gestured to the meal before her, “Aren’t you hungry? Look at my efforts to please a guest.”
____She glared up at him, meeting his eyes. “I’m not eating,” she said, “I’d sooner starve myself and get it over with than consort with you even for an act. Because you are the worst of them. You think I’ve up and forgotten everything you did?! You think I’ve forgotten the scars your touch left on me!? You think food is going to fix that?!”
____“Ah, that’s right; you’re the androphobic one. Well relax.” Silvin said in a rather sudden serious tone, “I’ve no reason to squeeze you again. We’re alone—no friends or enemies in sight—I don’t have to put on my show here.”
____“You killed Jaxson. Monster! Murderer—”
____“Oh quit it. Your friend is alive.”
____Stacey stopped, “...What?”
____“I had to placate that gorilla’s stupid code and cut your pal loose without riling the men.” Silvin explained, “So I took a chunk of your friend with my pistol just to paint myself. I meant to spare him from the start, or didn’t you see that I wasn’t wearing my usual deagle? My .50 Cal would’ve blown him away for sure. But regardless he’s alive, provided he outpaced the zombies. How else do you expect me to get word to Thorn? The hat I gave him should be proof enough.”
____Stacey didn’t say anything. Now she was stuck: wondering if he was being truthful or if she was just throwing herself into some easy deception of his.
____“So…” Silvin continued, “Provided fate smiles—which it always does on our beloved Corporal—your friends will come for you. And mean old Mardew won’t even be here to torment you anymore after tonight. And I pinkie-promise to treat you well enough (within reason) until the cavalry arrives. Then there’ll be a big battle and lots of explosions, and Thorn will personally carry you out of here in his big strong arms. Sounds good? Then there’s no reason to purposely starve yourself, eh?”
____“...” Stacey frowned, half at herself, then caved to his reasoning: reaching out and piling food onto the plate before her. White-carpet-colored turkey meat still steaming, and little chunks of potatoes with wrinkled skin, and clusters of little peas… how she hated peas as a child back when she could be spoiled. And bread, the god of granted: nothing strove to break her more back there than the fresh bread there in the very corner of the table. She went ahead and helped herself to a little bit of everything, using the utensils laid out for her. She’d been given a fork and a knife both, making her wonder just how impetuous her captor was. Could Silvin be so dumb as to allow her access to a genuine knife? Surely not. He’d anticipate using it as a stabbing weapon, so she shelved the thought for the time being and focused on eating for now. Someone as cocky as him would give her a window eventually, she was sure of it.
____It was difficult to serve herself with her wrists still cuffed together, but Stacey didn’t care how much was spilled or missed the plate in translation. Screw it. Screw everything. If that vile bastard across from her wanted to be kind while they both waited for Thorn to come and blow him away then so be it. Because she knew Thorn would blow him away, and that maybe for the first time in his rotten life Silvin might get more than he bargained for. See him smile then, she thought bitterly.
____Silvin himself had very little, mostly just watching her eat with a strange look of sinister contentment. He was studying her, she could tell. And she could also tell that he knew something. Where else would that kind of smile come from?
____She studied him right back. She had seen it before when he had come in, and yet not really hit her until now that he was wearing a dress. A simple black form-fitting little tube that she had seen countless women wear before the outbreak. It didn’t much work on him: not exactly having the form it was supposed to be fitting. He made it look ugly.
____“Were you planning on asking me to wear that to dinner?” She asked of him, “Are you trying to mock me somehow?”
____“Heavens, no.” Silvin replied coolly, “I’d never be so cruel as to put you in so bleak a color. I just like a fine outfit when I see it. You should’ve seen the look on Adib’s face the first time. But then you saw plenty of the contempt in my new lieutenant’s eyes, didn’t you? I don’t think he approves either.”
____“You’re that petty, Silvin?”
____“Only partially.” He tugged at the fabric, “It was originally for comfort, once upon a time. Picture a naïve little boy wearing what he wanted because of how it made him feel. ‘Impossible!’ everyone else would say. Well, they must be mad, thought I. Only a woman can wear a dress? Not only was it possible, it was actually an extremely easy task. You need only put it on. My first victory over society.”
____Stacey scoffed, “You’re not the first person to be like that, you know. I knew someone like that in high school, having a hard enough time from people thinking there was something wrong with them, an idea that you’ve doubtlessly helped to perpetuate.”
____“People giving your friend a harder time because of incidental association with
my habits? Good. That hardly reflects badly on me. Besides, I’ve made life worse for everybody, in one way or another.” The fork in his hand twisted and turned, prodding and tormenting the lonely scrap of meat upon his plate, “I perpetuate no ideas myself. I’m sure your ‘confused’ pal—who is almost certainly dead by the way—would hold no grudges against me for just looking my best self. Anyone can clearly see that I look fabulous.”
____“You make it look dreadful.”
____Silvin only cackled, “Certainly better than
you would look in it Stacey, what with the exposed back and all.”
____He knew. Stacey’s heart skipped a beat. All the scars she hid. That was what he had known. It had killed her even having to show her burns to Brooke; having Silvin know was hellfire all over again. He could drop it into anyone’s lap whenever he wanted.
____“You stripped me.” She said plainly.
____“Come now, even if Apostles don’t need to bother checking for bites we still had to make sure you two weren’t hiding any weapons or God forbid that precious vial Professor Joetex gave you. Even a needle could be sheathed in the skin and just like that you’d be out of here, no?” The fork finally thrust down into the turkey scrap, Silvin lifting it up, “Do you wanna talk about it or do I have to guess?”
____“That’s no one’s business but my own.”
____“And your father’s.”
____Her heart tripped a second time, “How’d…?”
____Silvin smiled, “Hasn’t Thorn told you I’m the luckiest man on Earth? Let me guess again: he was a strict man? A ‘disciplined’ man…?”
____“No, wrong, he was a heartless bastard! A man with a speck of discipline would have the self-control to be faithful to his wife and not mutilate his baby girl just because she was being loud, which is what infants do!!” Stacey paused long enough to calm and click at his words, “...But then you’re talking about yourself now, Silvin.”
____“Heheheh…” He chortled quietly, shrugging, “You got me.”
____“I take it your father didn’t approve of your cross-dressing?”
____He cackled again at the suggestion, “My father… would not let my mother—or anyone for that matter—drive while he was in the car. Because he refused to ‘Ride B*tch’ in the passenger seat, not ever, under any circumstances. Now, knowing this, how do you think he felt about his only son wearing women’s clothes?”
____“I could make an educated guess…” Stacey sighed, “Does that make this all revenge, then?”
____The notion seemed to offend him. “Revenge?” Silvin pondered, “To write it all off as his influence? To have the whole world place all the blame of my life and actions upon my father? And let him rob me of all my agency?” All joy left his face, “
…Never!”
____Stacey said nothing.
____Silvin calmed himself, “Vengeance is for short-sighted fools, and my father is much too dead to get revenge on. There’s nothing to be gained on that road. Besides…” His fork lunged next for fruit, impaling a green grape, “It’s my sweet mother I hated. My father was sexist and pigheaded and as easily upset as a toddler: a truly proud, insignificant man who never budged on anything. Any woman of merit, were I asked my thoughts on the matter, would never bother with such a blunt useless creature. But alas for my mother: choosing to relent to him, bending the knee because he never would. And of course my sister and I got to be a part of that through their ill-advised union. Thanks to her, truly. Because behind every monstrous patriarch is a pathetic, loathsome little enabler. Justifying that mindset because at least one person comes crawling back after every slight to continue inflating their ego. Yes, they tend to be quite inconsequential without one, don’t they?” In the grape went. Silvin chewed and swallowed, then nodded at his guest, “But you already know all about that, I’m sure?”
____“My mother was a good woman trying her best in a harsh world.” Stacey said, “She made mistakes, but she loved me more than anything. She loved me more than she loved herself, more than her need for that toxic relationship. And she destroyed it the second it hurt me.”
____“Lucky, lucky you…” His eyes were piercing, glaring.
____“Luckier than you, it seems. Despite what you claim.”
____“Heh.” Her counter made him smile, “Well if nothing else we both managed to survive long enough for our pendulum to swing against our fathers. I believe it’s the duty of every child to make plain the folly of their creators, not perpetuate them as most do.”
____“...I…” Stacey muttered, thinking on the words.
____“You…” Silvin answered, “Ah… there’s the difference between us. The vile terrorist and the
normal one. You perpetuated.”
____“I didn’t mean to.” Stacey murmured. She stared at the empty plate now, and the barely-visible reflection its shiny stained surface bounced back to her. Her other scars—the bite scars—burned on her skin, “It was the one thing about my mother that never made sense to me: why him? It seemed so obvious from an outsider’s perspective. But when it’s happening to you, you see things that others don’t.”
____“Not to me!” Silvin sharply clarified.
____“Well then when it’s happening to you, others see things that you can’t!” She cried, spilling her guts to him, “...A friend of a friend. I was in high school, he was in college. He had a car, that was what mattered. It was a stupid fling. I was a teenager, willing to give anything a whirl at least once. He was funny and charismatic, and sensitive when I was needing to be. He always had time for me, because he’d drop work on a dime. He was always between jobs. That just made him cooler to me.
____“There were signs. My mother didn’t like him, but I didn’t listen and kept him out of her life. Even his friends would get awkward around me, like they knew what was coming but couldn’t bring themselves to say anything. I never once questioned what a college student was doing hanging around my high school so much. I moved in with him first chance I got. My own best friend told me not to. I was naïve and defensive. Words were said and we didn’t talk again. And then I was locked in with him. I gave myself to him the first night we were there. He asked me to say I belonged to him, and I did. It was only the next morning that I learned that he had a dog at his place.”
____Silvin’s smile etched ever harder upon his face at her story, loving the chance to explore her psyche. Knowing her body, knowing its ending.
____“He had me there. He got what he wanted. He stopped letting out the line.” Stacey said simply, eyes locked with Silvin now. Knowingly telling this intimate story to this killer, knowing who he was and still not hating him as much as this boy, “He got worse so fast. Or I saw this part of him that’d been hidden. He stopped asking. He got so irritable and I didn’t do anything! I got scared. I thought of my mom. I thought about getting pregnant, of having to bring a life into the world only to hide it. I didn’t want that. I wanted out. But his grip was on me. He had to know where I was when I was out. He had to know who I was talking to, and he had to approve of it. I was stuck in that apartment so often. I didn’t even have keys.” She could feel herself gripping the seat of the chair now, cuffed hands between her legs, “Sometimes I didn’t leave all day. I was just stuck in there with that dog. It wasn’t cute. It was a big mean dog, and it didn’t like anyone who wasn’t him. I was scared of it, I would hide from it. He didn’t comfort me when he came home. I wanted out, I wanted out!”
____There was a sudden ringing in her ears now. It was nighttime out those windows, black and yet blindingly bright under the moonlight. The winged moon was full, and hovering directly over the office they were in, she could tell. She could hear barking behind her as she spoke, specks of spittle against her neck. But she didn’t dare turn around or even stop talking, like the words were being torn out of her like it or not. She continued in terror, refusing to break eye contact with Silvin across from her: sitting there viciously smiling at her story, drinking in the pain of her mistakes.
____“I begged to leave. Then I shouted to leave. I couldn’t just ask Mom or anyone else. I wouldn’t let myself be proven like that, letting myself be shamed. Everyone says there’s no shame in reaching out, but there is! There is because people don’t do it, they don’t ever do it unless they’re ashamed! I couldn’t show myself like that, not after all my mother went through! I just wanted out! I just wanna go home! He wouldn’t let me! I tried to force my way through. He hit me. I cut him. He called out. The dog attacked me.”
____Tears fell from her cheeks to her knees. The noises had all subsided.
____“He at least didn’t kill me. I woke up in the hospital. As soon as he left I asked for a nurse and called my mother. She took me home. I never went back to collect my things from that apartment. I was too afraid to. I just stayed with her, mutilated twice over… her little failure, her little prodigal daughter. Until the outbreak killed her. It’ll kill me before I can ever have any children to perpetuate my mistakes, so you don’t have to worry.”
____Silvin’s expression had softened. “It’s okay.” he said, strangely tenderly, “It’s all over now. All that’s gone.”
____“Thank you.” She whispered.
____“Ah…! ‘Thank you’. ‘
Thank you’…!” Silvin seemed to find this most amusing, “You… dumb… b*tch. You had everything you needed to know better but you still went through with it, didn’t you? No doubt there were ten times as many warning signs in the real events compared to your abridged little story, but that never stopped anyone, did it?”
____“Wha…?” Oddly she had expected more compassion from him. But what a stupid thing to think, and he obviously knew it.
____“Most people go off experience alone, and you even had that.” Silvin continued, “But no, even that’s not enough. Normal people are just too quick to forget. Even now you’re already latching to me, just because we talked, just because we had awful parents. You’ve already forgotten that I tortured your friend’s baby to death, butchered countless others and personally contributed to this Armageddon. But you’ll always hate this man more, because of what little you know. And yet,
and yet, you’re still looking to replace him with another one, even now. Even my shoulder you’re already subconsciously trying to lean on. Maybe you instinctually prefer abusers, hating them and yourself both. Never above them, always bending before you break!”
____“I…!”
____“Whenever that bastard hurt my mother, he would always make sure to soothe her afterwards. It wasn’t for no reason. It made her forget everything, and she would again eat gladly out of his hands because of the
infinite kindness he’d shown her. I’m sure you know this technique all too well. All I had to do was show you Mardew and then take him away: because he is scary and said nasty things to you just as I told him to, when I will sometimes say and do nice things. Despite the fact that I’ve far more bodies to my name. He is the beating, I am the bath.” Silvin sneered, “Oh, how I could’ve milked this across the days until you insisted that I could be saved and studied and fixed. What a perfect poison for Thorn that would’ve been, though I’ll spare him of it. Experience has taught you nothing, because you’re a dumb b*tch. You’ll have to thank King if you see him again, for bringing this apocalypse and robbing you of the chance to destroy yourself again.”
____“Mocking bastard!” Stacey had fumed at his words, had let him talk. Now she grabbed the knife off the table: such a weapon in her hands feeling like her security blanket at this point, and thrust at his yapping throat.
____He reacted with military precision, catching her wrist and jerking it. His other hand was in her palm and the knife went clattering across the floor. She was disarmed. In a single motion Silvin moved and took her with him, yanking Stacey across the table and down against the floor just like that. Plates fells shattering to the floor. One of his sandals dug into her spine, Stacey crying out at the severe pain the pressure put onto her scarred deformed back. Her handcuffed arms pawed haplessly at the ground, unable to reach back to that heel dug in her the way his fork had done to that scrap of meat all dinner long.
____Silvin stooped down low to her, “Of course, if you see King again he’ll just kill you without a second thought. Unlike myself he doesn’t care for drawn-out fun. He’ll drop you dead. And then down you’ll go into the charnel pits your stupid decisions have been digging all your sorry life, forever and ever… You don’t want that to happen, do you?”
____“No, no!” She quietly wailed. He relented his pressure, stepping off.
____“What a giant time-bomb you are.” He noted, stroking his chin, “How Thorn would grieve over the could’ve-beens of your corpse. But I’m beginning to think the cruelest thing I could do would be to hand you over as-is and just watch; wait for you to find a way to destroy it all from the inside. Let’s both pray he hasn’t been killed already by Apostle’s other machinations!”
____“Please just let me go!” She begged, clutching her head, “I just wanna go home!”
____“There ain’t no home anymore, sweetheart! And be grateful for that: it’s the best thing that could’ve happened to people like us.” Silvin snatched a whistle off the office desk and blew it, waiting a few moments for another soldier to hurry to the door. He gestured simply and the trooper obeyed the silent order, picking Stacey up to haul her back to the restroom. Silvin continued before she was gone: “You’ll be under my protection in the coming days. Appreciate them before they’re gone. Once I’ve finally dealt with Thorn, I’ll have to decide what should become of you then. Do remember that!”
ii
DAY 3
____Brooke exhaled as she leaned against the jeep. They had found Sgt. Londel and her men, finding them few in number but in good order. The garage they were hiding in housed four working vehicles and they were willing to part with two to aid the group. From there Header had collected instructions to make it across local roads to VACC, stopping at the settlement they’d been told about halfway for what were increasingly much-needed supplies. Hunger had been lying low this whole ordeal and now suddenly was poised to leap upon them all: in about a day or so if things kept as they were. Londel had almost nothing to give them.
____They had driven for some time but now stopped for a break on the road, having gone for about thirty minutes without a distant zombie sighting (that being the best metric to judge when they could pause for a bit). Everyone remained on edge, not sure what to expect going forward. They had all been promised a military escort or an airlift, but again they were on their own. Again. Brooke was starting to become bitter to the promises of anyone outside their own little group. It felt like they alone could deliver for each other.
____Thomas was helping the two military men recheck their rations, keeping a far stricter count of it all right now. Everyone else was stretching their legs or keeping an eye out, or slinking off somewhere to relieve themselves. Brooke herself just stayed leaning on the jeep, breathing. It was getting colder again by the day, and it was making her very sleepy. But it was early still, and she couldn’t stop for a moment until they were back home at VACC, which sounded sweeter with each passing hour. Part of her was ready to get back in there where there were no zombies, no enemies, no wind, no cold, no hunger, no responsibilities… to curl up in a bed and doze off forever. Man, she needed a smoke right now.
____Irene’s voice snapped Brooke out of it, shouting heard from not far off. She was kicking at the prisoner, “Hey! Don’t you listen? I said do you need to p*ss or anything?!” Now the shouting was directed at Brooke, “Hey Sunshine, come over here!”
____The prisoner. No matter their pleading, Sgt. Londel would not take him off their hands, saying that he would be dead within the hour if they left him with her. If any intel was to be got out of him, he should be taken somewhere where he could be shipped to the higher-ups. It seemed like a bad idea, taking him with them, but Brooke wouldn’t have him be executed and so the group begrudgingly kept him like a pet. Irene wasn’t too happy about this and—deciding that it was somehow Brooke’s fault—had elected to refer to her only by nicknames moving forward. It was the best punishment she could conjure for her new scapegoat, James now being gone and all.
____Sighing, Brooke headed over. The Apostle soldier was simply sitting on the ground staring off into space while Irene stood impatiently by him, tapping her foot. Brooke approached, “What is it?”
____Irene pointed, “Talk to this killer for me, Rainbows. I’m trying to be nice and he won’t respond to a thing I say. I guess even a Yes-No question is too tall an order.”
____Brooke sighed and stooped, “Do you need to go, sir?”
____He gave her, just… just a strange look, “No.”
____That was all he could muster, breaking eye-contact at that: seemingly unable to look at her any further. Brooke stood, “He says No.”
____“Yeah, I caught that.” Irene said, “You got him to speak. Feeling talkative again, soldier? You ready to tell us yet how many people you’ve killed?”
____Still no answer.
____“Whatever. Just sit there, then.” Irene mused for a second, “I’d thought for sure he’d use the time to take a leak as a chance to give us the slip, but I guess not. He’ll live a day longer. Maybe he likes being our luggage. Oh well. That’s all, Sunshine. Shoo.”
____Brooke contemplated all the things she could say: that she didn’t like Irene and thought she was rude, that she could tell on Irene to Header, or that Irene’s old friends or Carlos wouldn’t like seeing her acting this way. But Irene wouldn’t be bothered by the first, would laugh at the second, and would be bothered too much by the third and get wrathful, so Brooke just said nothing and slunk away. What she had was a rare feeling to experience these days, but common before the outbreak and not one that she had missed.
____What she did miss was better female companionship. Brooke desperately hoped that Stacey was all right, wherever she was. She thought they could have been good friends—under normal circumstances—should any of this ever come to an end. But right now that seemed like wishful thinking. Brooke missed her sorely.
____They still weren’t leaving yet. Brooke went to one of the vehicles and clambered up to sit on top of it, letting the cool wind blow through her hair as she looked across the landscape about her. Flat and chilly: even the greenery looking rigid in the still cold. She sighed. Her time spent waiting recently would normally go to thinking over her music, or trying to reach VACC on the radio to speak with someone there for a bit. Being in contact with their destination on the regular made returning there feel more certain, so she tried to do it at least once a day. But she didn’t feel up to it right now, for reasons she wasn’t sure of.
____Thomas came over, having apparently finished his conversation with the two soldiers. She was glad to still have him after the shootout in the city, never knowing when any skirmish would end with him suddenly gone forever. If Thomas died before she could truly bring comfort to him… she would survive, but it would be a cold winter indeed. Brooke tried to brush off such thoughts. God wouldn’t snatch Thomas away when he was out of his faith. That wouldn’t be fair. He wouldn’t do that.
____“You okay up there?” Thomas asked her as he came close, “It’s getting a little chillier every day now.” He smiled and added: “We maybe should’ve looted some warmer clothes instead of instruments.”
____“We’re only a ways out.” She told him, “The music is more important to me. They’ll have heat at VACC, I sure hope.”
____He glanced inside the jeep where the violin remained boxed, before looking back up to her, “But you’re not playing? I thought you might keep working on our song.”
____“Not right now. Irene would probably yell at me. It’d draw a lot of unwanted attention, she’d say.”
____“I guess.” Thomas said, “Don’t let her bother you. Her boyfriend just died, so give her some leeway. Or a lot of leeway. As much as you were willing to give a stranger like me.”
____He kissed one of her knees—the closest thing to him while she was up on the car—and backed off to check back with Thorn and Header. Brooke smiled softly. She’d have liked more, but she knew he was paying attention to everything around him. Irene was effectively widowed, so the two of them doing anything lovey-dovey in an open or prolonged way would probably only make her feel extra-awful. And the others weren’t feeling much better, she’d be willing to bet. It would be best to remain professional until they got to solid safety. She really couldn’t act too tone-deaf right now. There would be a time for hand-holding and soft-spoken words at VACC, or maybe even at this place Oakerley had directed them to. It couldn’t be too far now.