Tracey Ward - Backs Against the Wall

“You two should get some sleep,” Trent says. “I’ll stay up and take first watch.”

“Are you sure, man?”

“Yeah, I got it. I’m not tired.”

“Good, cause I’m exhausted. Wake me up in a couple hours. I’ll take next shift.”

“You got it.”

“I’m not tired,” I tell them, staring into the fire. “I’ll stay up too.”

Ryan frowns at me. “Are you sure?”

I smile weakly, nodding. “Yeah, I’m sure. I need to relax a little. Come down from what’s happened tonight. You sleep, though. You have to be tired from…”

He grins. “Nearly dying.”

My smile fades. “Don’t do that again.”

“I don’t plan on it.”

“Good.”

“Thanks, by the way. To both of you.” He looks at Trent, his mouth going tight. “I’d be dead if it weren’t for you guys.”

Trent shakes his head. “We didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done for us. It’s nothing special. Go to sleep.”

Ryan nods silently before sprawling out beside me. He’s between me and the door again, a position I’m beginning to think he’ll always take. It speaks volumes and I’m finally beginning to understand the language it’s written in. I’m not fluent yet, but I’m getting the gist of it.

It’s not long before Ryan is snoring away. I look across the fire at Trent, giving him a small smile.

“So,” I say softly, “how much trouble are you guys going to be in really?”

Trent watches me for a second, his face blank. Finally, he says, “A lot.”

I nod, hating it but knowing it’s true. I’m glad he’s willing to be real with me about it. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. What’s done is done.”

“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to do this to you both.”

“It’ll be worse for Ryan than for me. They were like a family to him. I was only there because of Ryan and Kevin.”

“How did you all end up together?”

He smirks. “How do any of us end up together?”

“You don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not any more than you do. Don’t feel bad about it, though.”

“Which part?” I chuckle unhappily.

“Any of it. I don’t mind and Ryan wouldn’t have done things any differently. If you needed his help, he was going to give it.”

I frown, shaking my head slightly. I’m too embarrassed to look him in the eyes anymore.

“I can’t understand that.”

“Are you sure?”

I shake my head again.

“How many times did you go back under the water for him? How many breathes did you give up? How many would you have given?”

All of them. Every last one of them. I never would have stopped.

I feel dizzy. Disoriented. I take several deep breathes, trying to get my bearings. Trying to find my center, my numb, but it’s been gone too long. I can’t get it back. I want to retreat into myself and hide from everything, all of it that’s not working and the things that are working too well, but I can’t. I’m in the thick of it now. I’m living life surrounded by so many more things than I realized were out there, so many more dangers than I ever dreamed of. There’s so much more to fear than just the Risen, the Colonists and the gangs. There’s so much more to gain. To lose.

I look up at Trent, about to ask him to tell me the story of how he met up with Ryan and Kevin, even if it means I have to tell my own in return. I’m ready for that. I think I can do it. I at least want to try. But the look on his face freezes my breath in my throat.

“What is it?” I whisper, knowing whatever it is, it isn’t good.

Trent stares at me patiently, his weird, light eyes looking white in the firelight.

“We aren’t walking out of here in the morning,” he replies, his deep voice vibrating through my bones.

I swallow hard. “Why not?”

“Because they’re coming.”

My vision goes funny, fuzzy. I’m having trouble breathing. “No one is coming. No one knows we—“

“I can hear them,” he interrupts me, his voice hushed and calm. “They’re not even trying to hide themselves. They want us to know.”

“Why?” I whisper, my eyes glued on his. My ears straining to hear the evil that speaks only to him.

“Because,” he says, his voice dipping lower. I can hear it then, behind his words. Footsteps. Slow, unhurried. Patient. “They want us to run.”

I bite my lip until I taste blood, willing myself not to cry out. Not to jump up and run, to leave them both behind.

“Who?”

I hear the screech of metal over the pavement. It’s not far off. A blade being drug over the ground. A warning. A promise.

“You know who.”

I nod hard.

“The cannibals.”

Vashon Island

Ali stands at the edge of the water, separated from the rest of the crowd. They’re shouting with excitement because they think they’ve won. But she knows this enemy better than most. Not all of them were there at the start. Not all of them watched the evil grow, seeding from one man, one idea, to ten then twenty then a hundred. Thousands. Tonight, this victory, it’s only the beginning of a war and that cold realization helps her understand that the life they’ve lived for the last ten years has been on borrowed time. This was always going to happen. It would always come to this.

This was always how it was going to end.

“They’re on the run,” Jordan tells her, coming to stand behind her.

She shakes her head. “Tonight they are, but tomorrow…”

“I know.”

And he does. He was there with her at the start. He saw it all.

“Are you hiding?” he asks quietly.

Ali sighs. “I swore I never would again.”

“They’re going to come looking for you soon. Once they realize the prisoners are gone.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure about them?”

She chuckles darkly. “As sure as I am about anything.”

“Sam agrees with you.”

“That is remarkably comforting.”

“Taylor is going to side with you too. He doesn’t believe they were Colony spies. He thinks they were idiots, but not spies.”

“They’re just young,” she says, sounding sad and tired, “and desperate.”

Jordan wraps his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head of long, dark hair. She takes his hand in hers.

“I can remember being that desperate,” he mumbles.

“Me too. It’s part of why I let them go.”

“What was the other part?”

She smiles. “They knew Crenshaw.”

He chuckles behind her, shaking her body with the movement. “Oh, Persephone. You have such a soft spot.”

“You’re just jealous he never gave you a name.”

“I’m hurt he named you after a woman married to the king of Hell. What does that say about me?”

“It says you’re strong. Strong enough to endure.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs thoughtfully, not buying it.

“Do you think they made it?” she asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe, if they were lucky.”

“I lost sight of them once most of the ships were burning.”

“It’s a beautiful night for it.”

She grins. “For what exactly?”

When he speaks, she can hear the familiar sound of a smile in his voice. “For smiting your enemies.”

“You know what’s sad?”

“Soy milk.”

She rolls her eyes. “Jordan.”

“It’s not real milk, Ali. It’s imposter crap and I won’t drink it. I won’t drink a lie.”

“Jordan.”

“Tell me. What’s sadder than soy milk?”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve stood in the dark with you watching the world burn.”

He pauses, going serious. “It’s not even the second time.”