My fingers curled into my pants when they fisted on my thighs. “Randy did. He was going through houses scrounging for supplies. There were two other survivors with him. Both of them were disgusted when they found me sitting next to the sink, covered in blood, vomit, and waste. I’d have been disgusted too, but not Randy. He lifted me up, carried me into the bathroom, and set me in the tub clothes and all. He turned on the water and hosed me off the best he could before finding fresh clothes and telling me to put them on. While he waited outside, I did as he’d instructed and struggled to put the cleanclotheson.
“He made me get up, made me continue, and refused to let me die when I would have been fine with that. There was no arguing with him; he wouldn’t allow it. But it was a long time before I argued with anyone as I didn’t speak again until months after that day. I’m not sure if I forgot how to talk, or if my voice became trapped beneath the screams I never issued while those demons slaughteredmymom.”
I couldn’t believe I was telling him these things. Later I could blame it on the dark and our circumstances. The ouro may be dead, but we were far from free of danger while in these tunnels. Everyone tried to unburden themselves before they died,right?
“Randy packed a bag for me and took me from my house. I never looked back,”Isaid.
“Did you know Randybeforethen?”
“No. He lived a couple of neighborhoods over from mine. He could have left me there, and most would have understood if he had. Few others would have dragged a traumatized eight-year-old around with them when the world was literally going to Hell, but he did, and he was only twenty-one at the time. It would have been much easier for him to leave me, but he kept me safe. He taught me how to survive and became like a fathertome.”
“Where isRandynow?”
I leaned closer to the heat he emitted.Slightly warmer than a human,I realized. It didn’t make me pull away from him like it would haveyesterday.
“I don’t know where he is,” I murmured. “He left to travel beyond the Rockies and explore more of the Wilds. We’ve never gone into or over the mountains before, and he decided it was time to check out some unchartedterritory.”
“Why?”
“Because Randy still holds out hope there is a safer place for us in the Wilds, a place where we can stop moving and settle down. He’s determined tofindit.”
“And you don’t believe there is such aplace?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Anything is possible, right? It’s part of the reason why I decided to reach out to Kobal. None of us want to live at the wall, but I think Randy would have sought Kobal out too, if he’d experienced what I had with the king. Despite everything that’s happened, Randy remains a dreamer who is determined to give me, his wife, and the rest of his followers abetterlife.”
Randy may have gone to speak with Kobal, but he definitely wouldn’t have cuddled up with a demon like I was right now. I didn’t want to know what he or the rest of the Wilders would think if they ever learnedaboutthis.
While at the wall, some of the Wilders had gone to the tents where the demons resided on the hill. I knew some of them had had sex with the demons, but I was their leader right now. I was supposed to keep an eye out for the Wilders and keep my distance from the demons who might turn on us. I’d led them to the wall, and yes they were adults, but if something went wrong with the demons, it would be myfault.
“Randy divided his followers before he left so we weren’t all put in danger. He placed me in charge of the ones who remained. The Wilders agreed to my lead while he was gone, even though many of them are older than me, because he’s their leader and he raised me. In the beginning, I demanded to go with him, but he refused to take me. He insisted it was necessary for me to be in charge here, but there were others who could have done it. I think he left me behind to keepmesafe.”
“Probably,”Corsonsaid.
“We were supposed to meet up again in May, but that was before the seals broke. Now, I have no idea what will happen or if Randy is even still alive. We may also be traveling into the mountains to hunt for the angels before he has the chance toreturn.”
His palm ran over my hair, soothing me as much as the heat of him did. My hands unfurled from my clothes and edged toward him, one settled on his thigh while the other rested against his back. His head turned toward me, and his lips brushed mytemple.
“You said you were making the cookies for your father,” Corson said. “Did you everfindhim?”
Closing my eyes, I lifted my hand from his thigh to rub my forehead as the world lurched precariously. “His body was on the porch when Randy led me outside. My dad made it all the way home only to be brought down by a demon at our front door. The blood soaking him turned his red hair and beard a scarlet color. There’s no red anymore. Now he’s all white,” I murmured as older memories gave way tonewerones.
“What do you mean?” Corsoninquired.
I removed my other hand from him and folded them both in my lap. I clasped them so forcefully together that the bones in them grated. “We traveled past my house on our way to the gateway. It was the fastest way to get to where we’re camped now.” He stiffened beside me. “We made camp about a quarter mile away from myoldhome.”
“You should have led us adifferentway.”
“We all have painful memories. I did what wasnecessary.”
“Wren—”
“I did what was necessary,” I insisted. “I just wasn’t….” My voice trailed off as I twisted my hands. “I wasn’t expecting his body to still be there. Parts of him were missing, probably taken away by animals, but most of his bonesremained.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as I recalled the skeleton lying on the front porch. My father’s bony fingers remained extended toward the door, forever reaching for the family he would never see again. There was no more garish blood covering him, only the stark white of hisbones.
Maybe seeing my old house again wouldn’t have been so bad if the red door hadn’t been faded and chipped, but the red color evident all the same. It hadn’t helped that one of my mom’s potted plants remained hanging from a hook. Nothing remained of the flowers, but the plastic pot had swayed in the breeze as we walked by. The porch sagged with age, most of the windows were broken, yet the house remained standing when many othersdidn’t.
For one split second, as I’d stood there gazing at my old home, the laughter and smells once filling it came back to me, and I’d been a child all over again. Not a frightened, waste-covered child, but a happy one with dreams andlaughter.
