Bass hands Charlie the flickering candle and overturns a wooden box that sits on the stone floor next to the bed. It had probably served as a table when the dead guy needed such things. "I'll put the bones in here for now. We can bury them in the morning."
Charlie doesn't argue. The rain is coming down hard outside and she is in no mood to get wet again anytime soon. She watches Monroe as he carefully places the bones inside the box. Charlie is pretty sure the care he's taking is for her benefit. He's worried for her mental state. She can see it in his eyes when he bothers to look at her. Charlie has had a couple of bad days, but she's stronger than he realizes. She's just too tired to point it out.
He pulls aside the thin tarp that has served as the skeleton's blanket, exposing the leg bones and then pauses. "Fucking creepy."
"What?" She asks. "Something creepier than you picking up a dead guy's bones so we can use his bed?"
He glares at her over his shoulder. "No, Charlotte. What's creepy is the way the bones are laid out. This isn't where he died. Someone took the bones from somewhere else and laid them here. Made it look like he was sleeping." Bass begins moving bones again, muttering under his breath. "Really fucking creepy."
"So, does that mean the sheets are sort of clean?" Charlie asks, eyeing the bed. She's never felt this tired in her life. "Since just the bones were here? No blood or whatever…"
"Clean enough." Bass drops the last of the bones into the box and uses his hand to brush off any remaining debris. "Bring me the blanket."
Charlie hands him the blanket. Bass spreads it over the dusty sheets and climbs in, flopping face down on the mattress.
"Hey." Charlie says. "What about me? Where am I supposed to sleep?"
"Get in or don't get in. Doesn't matter to me. I'm going to sleep."
"There's not much room."
"We're sleeping, Charlie. Not fucking. We don't need a lot of room to sleep." His voice is muffled. He's fading fast.
"As if I would ever fuck you." Charlie growls as she reluctantly crawls in next to him. The bed is narrow but when she lies down beside Monroe, she manages to settle comfortably without touching him at all. Her eyes fall shut, heavy with fatigue.
She doesn't bother responding when Monroe mutters, "G'night, Charlie."
The entry room to the old Otis silver mine is dark, warm and dry. The sound of the falling rain echoes through the chamber, lulling them both into a deep, exhausted sleep.
Charlie wakes with a start, her heart pounding. She senses Monroe still sprawled out beside her and relaxes a little into the mattress.
"Bad dream?" Monroe's voice is rougher than usual, thick with sleep.
"Yeah. I dreamed about Miles…" She isn't sure she even wants to tell him about the dream, and her voice trails off.
He props up on an elbow, watching her in the dim morning light. "What about Miles?"
"He was here and he was eating something and telling me not to worry about him." Charlie shudders at the memory.
Monroe frowns. "Doesn't sound so bad."
She turns to face him. "It was his foot. He had roasted it and was eating the flesh off the bone."
Bass screws up his nose in distaste. "Why was he eating his own foot?"
"Don't know. He said 'it tastes like chicken'."
Monroe pauses for a moment and then throws his head back and laughs. It is a hearty laugh that Charlie doesn't ever remember hearing come from him before. She watches him curiously, and can't help but smile back and laugh with him. His mirth is contagious. When he smiles, he looks younger, less burdened. She tries not to notice how the skin around his eyes crinkles alluringly.
Their laughter fades as memories of the days before come crashing in. Rachel is dead. Gene is dead. Miles and Connor are both missing. Their gaze holds. She feels that he sometimes sees deeper into her than anyone else she has ever known. He's doing it now and she feels too exposed, emotionally naked.
Charlie looks away.
Bass clears his throat, deciding to change the subject. "Still raining pretty hard. Guess we're stuck here for a while." He gets out of bed and walks to the door which is still mostly sheltered by hanging vines. "I slept good. You?"
She nods and gets up. Her empty stomach rumbles loudly. "Yeah, and now I'm hungry."
He walks over to the old baker's rack where he'd stowed the bread and fruit the night before. He tears the loaf in half and gives some to Charlie along with two of the apples. They eat silently, listening to the rain and looking around the space.
Everything is covered in dust. "Wonder how long that guy was in here?" Charlie asks.
"Years. Hard to say for sure. Been dead a while. Wonder why he was living in a cave at all?"
"Well, it's a good shelter. A good place to hide. Maybe he was running from something?"
"Maybe he had nowhere to go. No family." Bass points to the cans of coffee and pickles. "He lived a pretty solitary life here."
"No family." Charlie feels a tightness in her chest and takes a deep breath.
Bass watches her for a moment, unsure what to say. He turns and sifts through the items on the shelves. "Some candles, a few matches, some really old beef jerky and this." He holds something out to her. It's a baseball glove. "Maybe he used to play ball or something? Couldn't let go of the past?"
Charlie nods. "Sometimes it's hard to let go of the past." She looks over at the pile of things she'd brought in the night before and picks up the old photo album. She hasn't had the heart to look at it yet, but figures she might as well do that now. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opens the little book. The binding is ripped and some of the pages have suffered water damage, but most of the pictures have survived.
The rain still pours outside and the wind howls. The light is dim in the small room, but Bass settles down beside her. He doesn't invade her personal space, but he is close enough to look over her shoulder.
She opens the book and flips through the first few pages quickly. They are mostly scenes from a mountain vacation and don't include people. She turns another page and the pictures here are much different. Bass chuckles when they see Charlie in a Dora the Explorer bathing suit, carrying a fishing pole in one hand and a string of fish in the other. She is grinning proudly at the camera.
"How old were you there?"
"Five or six." Charlie smiles down at the picture. "That was probably taken my last summer here. Grandpa and I went swimming or fishing every day. He would sing me songs and tell me ghost stories. Then we'd go back to the house and Grandma Charlotte would have fresh baked cookies ready for us."
"Sounds like you had a lot of fun here." Monroe says.
"Yeah. It was great. Mom and Dad were always busy and Danny was always sick. When I came down here for a visit, it was just me and my grandparents. They spoiled me, I guess." She shrugs.
"Pretty sure that's how it's supposed to work. Grandparents always spoil their grandkids."
"Yeah. I guess so. I don't remember my dad's parents. They died when I was really little."
"Well, I remember them." Bass smiles at long forgotten memories. "Your Grandpa Gus smoked cigars and guzzled bourbon. He was always laughing and telling dirty jokes. Your Grandma Mary was sweet and kind and as different from Gus as a person could be. She made the best apple pie I've ever tasted."
Charlie looks up from the album, and meets his gaze. "Sometimes I forget that you knew them …"
"Well, I didn't have any grandparents, but Gus and Mary treated me like I was part of their family. At Christmas, they hung an extra stocking up on the fireplace with my name on it." He looks down at his hands. "They were good people."
Charlie feels strange, having this type of conversation with Monroe, and senses that he wishes he hadn't said anything. She turns the page again. The next few pictures are from the same summer and mostly are of Charlie. She tells him a little about each one.
Toward the back of the album several loose pictures are shoved between the pages. Charlie pulls them out. The top picture is of a younger Gene Porter next to a smiling blond woman. Charlie sucks in a deep breath. "God, I miss him so much already."
Monroe doesn't say anything. He knows there's really nothing to say.
She goes through the rest of the pile. There are more pictures of her grandparents, a few of Danny, Charlie's kindergarten school portrait and then there are some snapshots from Rachel and Ben's wedding. Bass takes one of these from her and looks at it closely. "I might be in this one." He points to one corner. "See, right there."
"You were at their wedding?"
"Yeah. Miles and I were pretty trashed by the time the ceremony rolled around. He was best man."
"Was that awkward? Miles and my Mom already had some history by then, right?" She's never known this for sure, but has suspected as much ever since they started making eyes at each other.
"Awkward would be an understatement."
"Did my Mom cheat on my Dad with Miles?"
Bass shakes his head. "You can ask Miles all the questions you want when we see him. Not my place."
She shrugs, not terribly surprised.
Bass wants to change the subject and points to a bridesmaid with long brown hair in one of the pictures. "Pretty sure I nailed this girl at the reception."
Charlie frowns. "Gross."
Bass looks at her and cocks an eye brow. "If you think sex is gross, you've been doing it wrong."
"Whatever." Charlie isn't sure why this turn in the conversation bothers her, but it does. She puts the album down and walks to the door, looking out into the rain. "Hey, it's starting to let up."
Bass walks up behind her and looks out as well. Sure enough, the rain has slowed to a light shower. The raindrops make little circles in the stream and the leaves on the trees are glossy and green. "We should walk into Willoughby. See if we can scrounge up some supplies."
She nods. "Soap. We need some soap. I'd kill for a –" She breaks off as Monroe's hand clamps over her mouth. Instinctively, she bites down hard.
"Fuck!" he says in a harsh whisper, but he doesn't let her go. Instead he nods toward the south.
Charlie relaxes as she sees the two figures walking along the creek, coming their way. Now that she understands why he was trying to silence her, she nods back at him so that he knows she'll be quiet.
He removes his hand from her mouth.
"Who are they?" she asks, her voice a soft whisper.
"War clan members. Look at their arms."
Charlie watches as the man and woman get closer. They are laughing at something, and look harmless enough if you ignore the weapons hanging from their waists. She looks at the black tattoos that cover both of the man's arms and one of the woman's. "What do they mean? The tattoos?"
"Those diamond shaped markings each represent kills. It's typical of the Plains clans. These two are probably out of the St. Louis area. No idea why they're down this far south, but it won't be good."
"Can we take them in a fight?" She asks.
"With what? Your little knife? Look at his swords. We wouldn't stand a chance. Let's just wait till they move on. We'll still go to town later, and we'll definitely get some proper weapons while we're there."
"And soap." Charlie says with a frown. "I really want some soap."
"We'll get some. Just gotta wait them out."
Charlie walks back over to the bed and sits again. "Do you think it's weird?"
"That St Louis killers are walking by our cave in Texas? Yeah. Very weird."
"No." Charlie shakes his head. "I mean the way I am. Shouldn't I be crying or something? I'm sad about my Mom and Grandpa but – " She shrugs.
"But what?"
"But I kind of feel like I cried enough the other day. Now the only thing that makes me want to cry is the thought of losing Miles." Charlie shakes her head. "Maybe it hasn't hit me yet? I don't know."
"Everyone grieves differently, Charlie. There's nothing weird about it. It is what it is."
They both fall silent at the sound of a human cry from outside. Charlie is at the door in a heartbeat, peeking through the curtain of glistening green vines at the two naked bodies grinding together on the sandy shore of the creek. "What are they doing?" Charlie asks, incredulously.
Bass is behind her. "I guess you were doing it wrong. Seems pretty obvious to me."
She bristles at the mocking tone in his voice. "I know what they're doing, asshole. Why are they doing it here?"
"Pretty sure they think they're all alone."
Bass and Charlie watch, eyes riveted to the tattooed couple, rutting like animals, not fifteen feet away. The man is pounding into the woman and she is arching her back and moaning. He growls as he begins to thrust with more force. He comes hard, still deep inside her. She's writhing beneath him. He moves quickly, pulling out to reposition and bury his face between her thighs, licking and sucking her pussy.
Charlie feels a stirring in her core. Her heartbeat accelerates and her face goes hot. She tears her eyes away and turns suddenly, crashing into Monroe who is standing closer than she had thought he was. She falters and he grasps her shoulders to steady her. They find themselves standing chest to chest.
"That was –" Charlie starts, but she doesn't even know what to say.
"Yeah it was." Bass's voice is lower than usual and Charlie shivers. This slight movement brings her into contact with the indisputable proof that Monroe is also affected by the show outside. His cock is hard against her belly.
Charlie freezes and looks up at him with wide eyes. For just a moment, he looks embarrassed but he recovers quickly, shrugging. "It's been a while, Charlie. Not a big deal."
She can't help but think that it actually had felt like a very big deal, but decides that comment would only make their situation more uncomfortable, if that's even possible. "You can let me go now," she says instead.
He releases her quickly, turning and walking to the far wall. He leans there, watching her warily.
She doesn't meet his gaze. "Like you said. Not a big deal. I just wish they'd get done so we could leave."
"Maybe we can find another way out." Bass nods toward an opening along the back wall. It is framed by old wooden beams. Beyond the door, the mine is inky black.
"No. Grandpa always warned me that this was the only way in or out. There have been a lot of cave-ins over the years and the mine itself is unsafe."
"Well, then we have some time to kill. Sounds like they're starting on round two."
"Jesus." Charlie mutters, more uncomfortable than ever.
Monroe feels it too – an awkwardness between them. He decides it's time to think about something else. "You said your Grandpa told you ghost stories?"
She nods, relieved. "Yeah. His favorite was about this outlaw who tried to rob the silver mine. The outlaw was a man named McGee and he was being chased by Texas Rangers when he got to Willoughby. He heard about the mine and decided to see if he could get something out of it. The miners outsmarted him and he ran, but the only place he could run was deeper into the mine. The story was that old Otis himself, trapped McGee in one of the caverns and then set off a blast that buried him alive."
Bass cracks a smile. "And the thief McGee haunts this place looking for a way out?"
"Yeah. He wanders around the mine, looking for an exit and never finding one." She smiles sadly. "Grandpa loved that story."
"I'm sorry, Charlie."
She looks up, surprised. "For what?"
"Your Grandpa. Your Mom. All of it."
"You hated my Mom." Charlie closes her eyes.
"But you didn't, and I know it's not easy to lose family."
She lets out a long breath. There are a million things she could say about losing family and the part he's played in that in the past, but what would be the point? It's taken time, but gradually Charlie has forgiven him for the part he'd played in Danny's and her Dad's deaths. "Yeah. Well, I just hope Miles is okay."
"He is. Connor is too." Bass nods confidently.
"How can you be so sure?" she asks.
"If Miles was dead, I'd just know." Monroe pauses and then shakes his head. "He's not dead."
Charlie isn't sure if Bass is just being optimistic or if he really does have some psychic connection to his oldest friend. Either way, she decides to go along with it. There's nothing wrong with having some hope.
She points toward the door. "You think they're done?"
Bass walks over and looks out. "Yeah, but we're still stuck."
"Why?" Charlie walks over to see for herself. Looking through the narrow opening between the vines, she sees what Bass had seen. Instead of two clansman, there are now six. And in the distance at least ten more are walking this way. "They're setting up camp? Here?" Desperation drips from every word.
"Yep. Setting up camp right in front of the mine's only fucking door." Bass slaps his palm against the smooth rock wall. "Have I mentioned how much I love your hiding place?"
"Hey, if you wanted to stay out in the thunder and lightning and pouring rain, you could have. Nobody forced you to come in here."
"I know." He deflates a little. "We have to come up with a plan. Who knows how long they'll be out there. We need food and weapons."
Charlie places a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure something out."
"I can help."
Charlie and Bass both whirl at the sound of a new voice. By the inner door that leads into the blackness of the mine itself, stands a boy. He's maybe twelve. He's dirty and his clothes hang loosely from his slender frame. He has shaggy brown hair and piercing green eyes. He holds a small burning torch in one hand.
"Who the hell are you?" Bass asks, instinctively stepping between Charlie and the boy. "Are you with the clan?"
The boy shakes his head. "Hell, no."
"Are you a ghost?" Charlie asks, knowing she sounds ridiculous but not caring. Her heart hammers in her chest.
The boy raises an eyebrow. "No. Are you an idiot?"
Charlie falters, but quickly recovers. "Sorry. Who are you and how did you get in here?"
"I'm Teddy Mathews and I live in Willoughby. I come in here all the time. I like to explore."
"Mathews? Related to Joe?" Bass asks.
Teddy nods. "He's my uncle."
"But how did you get in? We've been standing here by the door." Charlie steps around Bass, moving closer to the boy who is clearly no threat.
"There's an old ventilation shaft down one of the corridors. It's small, but so am I so I can squeeze in."
"You come here a lot?" Charlie asks.
"Yeah. I come to look around. I found some silver chunks twice and I found some old tools once. And I always check on the dead guy." He nods toward the bed and then narrows his eyes at them. "What did you do with him?"
Bass points to the wooden box in the corner. "We needed the bed so we put him in there. Were you the one who arranged his bones on the bed?"
"Yeah." The boy nods. "I found him. He'd died inside the big cavern and I didn't want to just leave him there. I think this was where he lived so I brought him home. I check on him whenever I am down here. I guess that's weird." The boy won't meet their eyes.
Charlie smiles at him, reassuringly. "No. It's sweet."
He smiles back at her, his cheeks reddening slightly. "Anyway, I heard noises and came in to see what was going on. Who are you?"
Charlie holds out a hand for Teddy to shake. "I'm Charlie. This is Bass. Dr. Porter was my Grandpa."
Teddy has a strong grip but he frowns. "Was?"
"Yeah." Charlie says. "Died in the storm. Lots of folks did."
"I liked him. He was a nice guy." Teddy says. "Sorry."
"Thank you." Charlie looks to Monroe, silently begging him to take over the conversation. He understands.
"We came in here to get dry and find a safe place to sleep. The storm took out our house." Monroe says. "How about your family? Everyone okay? What about where you live?"
"Uncle Joe's house is fine. Haven't seen him though. Not sure if he's okay or not."
"What about Heather?"
The boy shrugs. He looks like he might cry, so Charlie changes the subject. "Can you show us how to get out of here? We need to get back to town for supplies and we need to leave a message with somebody for when my uncle Miles comes back."
"I'll show you where I came in, but you won't fit. Maybe I can go get supplies and bring them back?"
Bass and Charlie exchange a long gaze. Bass turns to Teddy and nods. "Lead the way."
"I don't know about this." Charlie says as they follow him through the door into the unknown cavern beyond.
"What else can we do?" Bass asks. "Kid's willing to help. We gotta let him. See what happens."
The light from the small torch shines eerily along the narrow corridor. Every ten or twelve feet, there are wooden braces helping to support the shaft. The floor is damp and the air is cooler. "Watch out for snakes," The boy warns over his shoulder.
Bass stops. "Snakes."
Teddy chuckles. "Just kidding. Nothing down here but bats that I've ever seen."
"Oh that's so much better."
Teddy shrugs. "They've never bothered me. Okay we turn here. If you go straight you'll get to one of the cave ins. It's a dead end." They turn when he does and find themselves in a huge room. "This is where I found the dead guy. Over there, on the other side of the pool."
"Pool?" Charlie asks. "What do you mean?"
He tilts his torch down a bit so that they can see what he's talking about. "Probably fed by the creek outside, but I don't know for sure. It's fresh water. I think it's where the dead guy would take a bath or whatever."
"A bath." Charlie says. "I'd kill for a bath."
"You can just take one now," the boy says with a suggestive grin. "I'll hold the torch so you can see what you're doing."
Charlie shakes her head. "Nice try, kid. I'll wait till I have some time alone and some soap."
Bass frowns at Teddy. "What are you, twelve?"
"I'm thirteen. I'm just short for my age. What are you, fifty?"
Charlie laughs and Bass growls something about children being seen and not heard. They've left the big pool room and it's slower going now because rocks litter the floor of this passage.
"You're sure this is safe? Ever been down here when there was a cave in?" Charlie asks.
"Yeah, once. That's why I'm careful. Don't want to ever go through that again." He points ahead. "Almost there."
They can see some natural light filtering down from a small hole in the wall. The hole is very narrow. Bass and Charlie both can see that the kid was right. An adult would never fit through. Their shoulders would get stuck. "You think you can bring stuff back? How will you and stuff fit?"
"I'll tie a bag to my foot and drag things back in." Teddy shrugs. "Just tell me what you need. I'll leave the torch with you. I have another one at the other end of the shaft."
"Food, soap and clean clothes." Charlie says.
"Weapons, matches, another blanket." Bass adds.
"And something we can write a note on that you can take back."
Teddy nods. "I can help with all that. Well, not sure about weapons. I'll see what I can find."
Charlie steps forward and puts a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Thanks Teddy. We really appreciate your help."
He beams at her. "Happy to do it. I'll be back in a couple hours." Then he hands the torch to Charlie before scrambling up over the rocks that are piled under the opening and disappearing inside it.
They make their way back to the room where they slept the night before and watch through the vines as the clansmen make themselves comfortable in their new camp. Charlie and Bass don't talk much, each lost in their own thoughts, each wondering how the hell they can get out of this particular predicament.
"Hope he comes back." Charlie says. "He's going to come back, right?"
"I think he's half in love with you." Bass says with a frown. "He'll be back."
"You're delusional. He's just a kid and we just met him. Why would he love me?"
Bass looks at Charlie. She is filthy. Her hair hangs in dirty, matted curls. She's wearing clothes stained with sweat and blood. She should be an emotional wreck after all that's happened. In spite of all that they've been through, Charlie is strong. She is also breathtakingly beautiful.
"No idea, Charlie." A lump lodges in his throat, but he lies smoothly because he's used to hiding his emotions from this woman. "No idea at all."
A/N: One more chapter to this I think. Sorry if you are reading "Two Roads Diverged" and are wondering when that will get updated. I hope to have it this week. I'm behind on writing and reading/reviewing as well. I have one of those awful head colds that never goes away and cold medicine is not conducive to much other than sleep. I'm feeling better though, and hope to be back to my usual self soon. Comment if you have a minute. Smut will be in the next chapter.