Chapter Ten: Dazed and Confused
Dust.
There was so much dust, it seemed to cling to every inch of her skin. It felt as if it filled her lungs with each breath she took.
She looked out over the hillside and spotted the bombed remnants of a village down below. The ragged edges of its broken buildings cast misshapen shadows across the dead landscape in the light of the setting sun. She surveyed the sea of dead grass surrounding her, then followed the dusty road down towards it.
The town was quiet. Empty. She passed the carcass of a goat beside an empty fountain, its fur taut and dry against sun-bleached bones.
Her radio crackled to life as she entered the street, but the transmission was scrambled. She paused for a moment, hoping to hear a familiar voice, to not feel so alone. The crackling stopped.
She noticed a shape in a pile of dirt by the roadside and approached it. There was a face covered in ash, eyes open but unseeing. A child. She turned away from it as she heard whispers to her right. But she was alone in the street.
She caught movement in her peripheral vision and turned back to see a line of soldiers pass by, the only sound the crunch of their boots against the unsealed road. They disappeared into the building through a gaping doorway.
The radio on her hip burst to life, "INCOMING! INCOMING! INCOM-"
Cement exploded from the wall, sending her flying to the ground as she covered her head.
As she pushed herself up, she realized her face was inches from the buried child's. She scrambled backwards as people began to scream. The building was going up in flames, red tongues stark against the washed-out landscape. She was suddenly surrounded by villagers, all of them staring expectantly, waiting for her to do something. She couldn't move. She felt paralyzed under their gaze. There was a flash of light and the people were on the ground, some clutching at stumps where their arms and legs had been, others cut open by flying debris, clutching their spilled insides as they opened their mouth in silent screams. An old woman reached for her with bloody hands, begging for assistance, but she couldn't hear, ears still ringing from the blast. She turned back to the building her men had entered and ran inside.
The fire was gone. She was in an empty room now. It was dark except for the occasional burst of light coming through a nearby window. A woman's compact lay open, casting a reflection across the floor. She picked it up and looked into the mirror, catching movement behind her. She spun around, but no one was there. She was alone. The light continued to pulse through the window, bright as lightning. She shielded her eyes and moved towards it, looking out across the water. A lighthouse sat perched atop a cliff in the distance, barely visible in the dark. Its signal came as a steady beat, illuminating the room. She made out a small silhouette on the floor below the window frame. As she approached, she was hit with the sharp smell of copper, and realized she was stepping in thick, black blood. She crouched down and touched the small figure on the shoulder, rolling it over…
Lumen woke with a start, ripping herself from the dream before it could finish. She knew what was coming next. She'd had this dream many times before, though it changed a little each time, her unconscious mind choosing new details to recall and relive. Her throat felt tight as she took a deep breath. She felt movement beside her.
"You okay?"
Chris sat next to her on the bed with his back against the wall, knees drawn to his chest as he rested his chin on folded arms.
"You're still here? I thought you'd be asleep," the soldier commented, rubbing her eyes and reaching for her bottle of water.
The teenager stretched out one of his legs and turned to look at her.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Lumen cocked an eyebrow as she drank.
Catching the expression, Chris looked away, suddenly embarrassed. He had hoped his decision to stay would have at least invoked some form of appreciation from her, but she seemed indifferent. He still couldn't figure out how to approach her. He was used to the girls his own age; easy to read, hearts worn readily on their sleeves. At least he had always known where he stood with them, even if that position was 'not a chance'. With Lumen, he had no idea. Not that he was even sure she would be interested in him in the first place, considering the age gap; though she seemed pretty close to Nick, and he wasn't that much older. He had known her for less than a week but he couldn't deny the attraction he felt every time he saw her. He would have put that down to their brief encounter at Strand's house, but with every interaction since, his interest only seemed to grow. He thought back to the night in the diner, her fingers ghosting over his, their brief moment of intimacy. He felt a flush creeping up his neck and glanced at her to see if she had noticed.
"Was I asleep long? What time is it?" she asked, staring at the bottle as she shook its remaining contents.
"Late, I think. I haven't been up top for a while."
She turned to look at him, noting his fading bruises and the dark circles under his eyes.
"When's the last time you slept?"
"I haven't, really. Not since…my mom."
"You should try."
"I can't. I just…Too much," he motioned to his head, "Too much noise."
He snuck another glance at her, watching her tie her hair back with the elastic she kept on her wrist. He recalled the way she had looked on the raft after he had pulled her from the water; the way she had run her fingers back through her wet hair. She met his gaze and gave a friendly smile.
"How do you?" he asked her, "After everything that's happened?"
She shrugged and leaned back against the wall, offering him the last of the water. He shook his head and dropped his gaze.
"When you've been assigned to clean-up after a bomb detonates in a street full of civilians, you figure out a way to leave it behind you at the end of the day."
Chris frowned at the thought.
"Is that what you dream about?"
"Sometimes. Just the bits that stuck with me over time. That, or…"
She looked at him, remembering his confession about the lights.
"What?"
"Nothing," she replied, forcing a reassuring smile, her brow knitting together as the earlier lightheadedness dissolved into a throbbing headache.
He wasn't convinced, but didn't push the subject any further, sympathetic to her current state.
"Has that ever happened to you before?" he asked her. "Getting sick like that?"
"It was nothing. Dizzy spell. I just need to keep my fluid intake outside of the bar," she joked.
"It looked like a panic attack. There was a girl in my class at school who used to get them around exam time." His brow creased as he realized that girl was probably dead now. "What happened at the house?"
Lumen squeezed her eyes shut as she recalled the dead little girl in her mother's arms. She could almost smell the blood.
"Hey, it's okay. You don't have to talk about it."
She felt his hand on her shoulder and opened her eyes, debating with herself.
"I need to tell you something," she said, her voice low.
His heartbeat quickened as his imagination began to fill in the blanks. He shifted closer, hand still resting on her shoulder as he leant forward, giving her his full attention. She stared down at the bed.
"What is it?"
"Those lights you saw…"
He frowned, wondering what that could possibly have to do with anything. She looked up, reading the worry in his eyes.
"It was my squad that was sent in to investigate."
The words spilled out before she could allow herself to rethink the confession.
"What are you talking about?" Chris asked, brow creasing.
"Your dad…He must have reported it to your zone's commanding officer. The call came through. My squad answered it."
Chris dropped his gaze, processing this.
"What was it?"
She wanted to stop there. He didn't need to know this. She didn't need to relive it. But the thought of finally telling someone else made her feel better.
"There was a guy squatting in the house with his daughter. They'd been evading the imposed quarantine. Didn't have a lot of supplies left. Probably why he was trying to get someone's attention."
"What happened to him? Did you take him back with you, to where they were keeping Nick?"
She swallowed, ignoring the tight feeling growing in her chest.
"No."
Chris's mind whirred as he reached the only other conclusion.
"Did you kill him?" he asked, trying his best to sound neutral as he waited for the answer.
"He got taken by the infected. But…yeah, I would have had to execute him anyway."
His hand slipped off of her shoulder.
"I…I made sure he didn't suffer."
She looked over to see how he was taking it, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.
"What about the daughter?"
He finally looked back, but her expression was blank as she stared down at the bed. She shook her head. They sat in silence for a moment. He was the first person she had told, the only other person that knew outside of the remaining members of her squad.
"We didn't find her in time." Her voice was barely a whisper as her throat grew tight again. She coughed in an attempt to clear it, but it didn't help. "That's the night my friend became infected. The one I told you about. The same night one of my men broke his leg so badly they had to amputate it. He didn't make it either."
"The one my mom helped with?"
She nodded. When his silence grew too heavy for her, she turned to look at him and found his expression darker than before, jaw clenched. His eyes shone with tears but he was working hard to keep them in check. It was not the reaction she had been expecting from him. Shock, maybe, but not this look of anger.
"I shouldn't have said anything," he finally spoke, and she realized she had misread him. It wasn't anger she was seeing, it was furious guilt.
"What? This isn't on you."
He had a distant look on his face as he replied, "Every time I try to help…I mean, look what happened back there. We caused that."
Lumen thought of Nick. She needed to check on him. She knew he would be blaming himself for Willa's death.
"This is why I agreed with Strand. We can't help everyone. Someone always ends up hurt."
Chris looked at her, eyes softening under her gaze. He nodded.
"Thanks for staying with me," she said, offering him a genuine smile, hoping the sudden change of subject would ease his mood. She crossed her arms, hugging herself as she began to feel the cold creeping in again. "And for looking out for me. I know I can be a stubborn bitch."
She chuckled and Chris's lips parted, surprised by her gratitude. His expression shifted into a smile and it took her a moment to realize she was staring.
"So, how much shit am I in for when I go back out there?" she asked, looking away, pushing past the awkward emotional moment. She peeled off the blanket that had been covering her and swung her legs over the side of the bed, immediately regretting the sudden movement as her head began to swim. She paused and waited for it to pass before getting to her feet.
"What do you mean?" Chris asked her, watching her movements with concealed interest.
"Well, I can't say they would have been too impressed with me holding a gun to a kid's head."
"You were trying to help."
She turned and threw him a look. "Yeah, I don't know how well that's going to hold up in 'Madison Court'."
Chris smirked and a chuckle escaped his throat.
"Yeah. I know the judge."
"So you'll put in a good word?"
His smile fell as he thought of his step-mother. "I doubt she'd listen to me. Maybe ask Nick. He seems pretty good at taking himself out of trouble with her."
Lumen stared at him for a moment before nodding towards the door with an inviting smile.
"Come on. What do you say? Will you be my character witness?"
As much as she had been joking about the 'character witness' thing, Lumen was glad to have at least one friendly presence by her side as she sat in the wheelhouse under the critical gazes of both Madison and Travis. She had hoped to speak with Strand before the expected ambush, but he was nowhere to be found. Chris sat on the arm of the cushioned booth, arms folded as he glowered at his father. Travis avoided his son's gaze, letting Madison do most of the talking.
In the main room below them, Nick came up from the cabins, looking uncertain. He glanced over at Daniel, who sat at the dining table with a glass of whiskey, swirling the contents of his drink as he stared out at the water.
"Hey, have you seen Lumen?" Nick asked. Daniel glanced over, but seemed completely disinterested in the soldier's whereabouts.
"Did she come through here?" Nick pressed. He had slipped back inside after a quick cigarette out on the deck, and headed down to check on her, surprised to find the room empty. Daniel gestured to the staircase that led to the wheelhouse and turned back to stare into the golden liquid of his glass. His frown deepening, Nick began the ascent.
"What you did back there…" Madison began, trying to find the right words. Chris jumped in almost immediately to defend her.
"She was trying to help," he cut in, voice defiant.
"Chris," Travis said, a hint of warning to his voice. Chris's eyes flicked to his father and his scowl darkened. His father's gaze faltered and fell back to the floor.
"I wasn't going to hurt him," Lumen interrupted, "You really think I'm capable of that?"
"We don't know what you're capable of," Travis replied.
"So after all the shit I've pulled you guys out of, it's only now that my training is an issue?"
"They train you to hold guns to kids' heads?" Madison asked with dark sarcasm.
Nick, leaning on the rail at the top of the staircase, frowned at his mother's words. Lumen had been through enough; she didn't need the third degree.
"Mom," he said, announcing his presence. Madison looked over at him as he approached, and he shook his head, urging her to leave it be.
Glancing at Nick, Lumen could see he hadn't approved of her actions either, despite his attempt to break up the little lecture. She felt a pang of guilt as he stepped towards them.
"Look," Madison continued, "What happened back there was inexcusable-"
"No, what happened back there was me making sure no one got hurt. Me taking control of the situation that you got us into. I told you I didn't want to bring any of the kids on board."
"So, what? You would have preferred that we left him there? After what we saw?"
She wanted to say that it was their fault; that the tragedy that had befallen the Gearys would never have occurred without their intervention. But she knew a large portion of that blame fell on Nick. He had found the pills. He had led Willa to their hiding place. She couldn't bring herself to say it, but Chris was right – this was on them. Strand chose that moment to make his appearance, coming in from the upper deck.
"What's going on?" he asked them, sensing the hostility towards his soldier.
Travis turned to him, growing tired of the pair's secrets, of the way they constantly took the other's side without any consideration for what was right.
"We're not going to just ignore what happened back there."
"What happened? What happened is Lumen was doing what I brought her on board to do – to protect our interests at any cost."
"Not at that cost. We don't do that."
Strand stepped towards him.
"We do what is necessary. You brought that child onto the boat. She had to deal with the consequences of that. She got between you and a gun. Yet here you are, chewing her out like she didn't just save your asses yet again. You should be grateful. Though considering the way you've spoken to me, the way you continue to act like your position on this boat is anything other than fortuitous, why should I expect any different?"
Lumen raised her eyebrows as she listened to the captain come to her defense. Though she knew his whole speech was put on for the sake of freeing her up for more important tasks, she still found it amusing to hear these borderline-praising statements leave his mouth. The words failed to effect Madison, however.
"We still have morals," she argued, "That doesn't go to shit just because the world has."
"Let me know about morals next time someone points a gun at you. At your children. Tell me how well your morals hold up then."
Lumen glanced between the two. She felt like she was back in high school, stuck between her parents as they bickered with the principal looking on. She had gotten caught once smoking in the girls' bathroom, her first ever taste of a cigarette. The experience that had followed had turned her of them for good, with her mother had reacted like her daughter had decided to join a cult. She was getting punished for one puff of a cigarette, meanwhile her brother had been off god knows where, doing god knows what and was still talked about like he was the golden child. She zoned out for a moment as she recalled the distant memory, brought back to the present when she felt Nick step up beside her. He took a seat next to her, arms crossed against his chest as he watched Strand and his mother argue. It was always an interesting fight when these two came together – stubbornness equal in both opponents.
Growing more uncomfortable by the second, Travis glanced away. Observing the three opposite him, his frown deepened as he processed what he was seeing. Lumen was zoned out again, staring down at the floor in distant thought. To her left, Chris sat watching her with curious interest. On her right, Nick looked back at him, more at ease than his step-brother, but his posture just as protective. It wasn't until now Travis became aware of the growing attachment they had to the woman. He glanced back at Madison and she met his gaze with a thin-lipped expression he was familiar with but rarely saw; her look of defeat.
"You didn't look very well back there," Madison addressed the soldier, moving past the incident with Harry.
Lumen glanced up at her, slower than usual to think up a lie. "Just…everything sort of…" She motioned to her head, "Everything just sort of hit me. All at once. You know? I'm feeling much better now. Thanks for the concern."
Madison just stared at her. She had become adept at picking up on lies from her days spent in an office across from troubled teenagers. Meeting her gaze, Lumen acknowledged the detected deception and waited for the older woman to comment. But Madison turned away.
"Since we seem to have reached an understanding on the matter, would you mind vacating my wheelhouse?" Strand asked them, beginning to feel crowded in the small room.
Madison leaned close to Travis, exchanging quiet words as Lumen got to her feet.
"You stay," Strand requested. She looked at him with mild surprise and returned to her seat. Chris looked ready to remain right where he was, when his father gestured for him to follow. He scowled.
"Chris," Travis warned for a second time.
The boy rolled his eyes and did as he was told, looking back at Lumen as he stuffed his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and followed his father towards the staircase.
As the three left the room, Lumen looked over at Nick, noticing for the first time what he was wearing. She reached out and pinched at the sleeve of his shirt and he turned to her with a curious frown.
"What the hell, man? Where did you get that?"
He looked down at the polo shirt he had discovered in one of the cupboards, Abigail embroidered in white letters against the blue material.
"You want one?" he asked with an amused smile.
"Well, I think the first mate should have the appropriate merchandise."
She glanced at Strand but he didn't seem to find their exchange particularly amusing, nor did he comment on her self-proclaimed title.
"We need to talk," he said, forcing them to recall every relationship-ending conversation they'd ever experienced.
"What happened back there? Is it something that I should be concerned about?"
Lumen knew right away that this wasn't Strand showing concern for her wellbeing; if anything, it was him being concerned for his own.
"No. Just…what we saw in the house. Brought up some old stuff. I'm fine now."
"Oh, I picked the soldier with PTSD. Great," Strand replied, as if he'd purchased defective goods.
Lumen's expression turned dark at his callous comment. "Fuck you."
"Hey, man, that's not cool," Nick said to him.
"Is this going to affect what I brought you along for, I guess is what I'm asking?" Strand went on, ignoring both reactions, "Will it affect your future performance?"
She stared up at him without bothering to mask her distaste to the line of questioning.
"No."
He sighed.
"Nicholas, leave us."
Nick frowned at him and glanced at Lumen. She gave him a reassuring pat on the knee to send him off, her expression dark as she relaxed back into the seat and focused on the captain, avoiding the teen's gaze. He got to his feet, not feeling at all comfortable about leaving her to deal with Strand on her own, but followed the request. As he reached the staircase, he looked back at Lumen. He wasn't convinced that she feeling as well as she claimed. Strand glanced at him, waiting, and under the pressure of his gaze Nick took his leave.
"You and I have an understanding, Lumen," Strand began when they were alone, pacing in front of the console, pausing to check the radar screen. "I believe honesty is part of that. We may not be friends, but as I recall from our initial conversation, part of your price was absolute transparency. I assume that goes both ways?"
"What's your point? You think I'm lying to you?"
He turned back to her and gave an impatient huff.
"What was that? Mental breakdown? A little too much reality for you?"
"You have no idea."
"Don't I?"
"You have no idea the shit I've had to deal with. The stuff I've witnessed. What you and the others have been exposed to doesn't even come close. And this was all way before the dead started walking again."
"So you should be used to it, then."
"It's the first time it's happened, okay? I doubt it will happen again."
"You ever talk to someone about it? I hear Madison's qualified if you need a sympathetic ear."
He smirked as if the idea somehow amused him and she rolled her eyes.
"I guess my main concern is if we happen to find ourselves in a sticky situation, who's to say you don't choose that moment to experience another little breakdown? Remember our agreement. You're here for one reason. If you're incapable of fulfilling your end of the bargain, you're of no use to me."
"Gee, don't start getting all sentimental on me. What are you going to do? Toss me overboard?"
He chuckled.
"I doubt that would go down well with the others, despite the recent show you put on. You've been making new friends, I see."
She threw him a confused look.
"The boy. The younger one. I didn't think it was your style, but who knows, maybe you're learning a thing or two."
"What the hell are you talking about?" she asked.
"You get the kids on your side and the parents are more likely to tolerate you. Just as I got Nick on my side, and here you are."
"Jesus," she said, shaking her head as she realized what he was getting at, "Not everything is about leverage, you know. And who says I tolerate you?"
"Oh, so that's not your game, then? You got a lot in common with sixteen year olds? Don't play me the fool, Lumen. Do whatever's necessary to keep these people in line. They can't seem to realize that you may be the only thing standing between them and their own stupidity, the only thing keeping them alive. So make them tolerate you. Oh, and I would suggest keeping your weapons with you at all times. Just in case."
"You've got a lot of trust issues, Victor."
"It's kept me alive this long," he replied with a calm smile, putting on his sunglasses and easing back into his captain's chair, soaking in the sun's last rays of the day as they spilled through the surrounding windows.
Taking this as her cue to leave, Lumen shook her head and headed to the galley, hoping to find something decent to eat.
"Chris. Hey, Chris, look at me. Listen to me."
Travis caught his son by the arm as Chris made an attempt to stalk back towards his room. He spun around and met his father with a sharp look, yanking his arm from his grasp.
"What?"
"What the hell's the matter with you?" Travis asked, disturbed by the constant look of hatred his son seemed to display towards him lately.
"What?" Chris asked again. "Do you need something, or can I go?"
He was used to his son's attitude, something that had reared its head not long after the divorce, and that seemed to have developed into an even deeper loathing since Madison had come into the picture. But even during their worst arguments, Chris had never raised a hand to him. He touched his hand to the cut on his lip, and recalled the look on his son's face as he had driven the pickaxe through the infected man's eye back on the beach. This was something new, something darker and much more dangerous, and he had no idea how to deal with it.
"Look, I want you to come up with the rest of us more, okay? I don't want you sitting in your room by yourself."
"I wasn't by myself," he replied quickly, his scowl slipping as he tested his father's reaction.
"You were in there with her the whole time?"
"Yeah. I was making sure-"
"Chris…"
"She needed help, okay? She was sick."
"Chris, come on. You can't-"
"How many times has she saved us now? And you guys treat her like she's a monster. Are you serious? We need her. We don't know shit about what's going on out there. We don't know how to survive. She can help us."
Travis stared at him, taking this in. He couldn't deny the potential benefits of having someone with Lumen's knowledge and training on their side. Still, Madison was right: they had to maintain their morality. It was the last remnant of civilized society they had to hold on to.
"If she needs the room, you should move your stuff down to the crew quarters with Nick and Alicia."
"It's fine."
Travis frowned, unsure what he meant by that. Surely he didn't think he could share the room with her.
Realizing what his words implied, Chris backpedaled, "She'll probably go back to sleeping where she used to."
"If she's sick, it might be nice to offer her a bed, Chris."
He hadn't been sleeping much anyway, so the bed was of little use to him, but the room had been the last place he'd seen his mother at peace. He wasn't quite ready to let go of that. Having learned that the best way to end an argument with his father was to make him think he had won, Chris nodded, making an effort to drop his scowl.
"I'll talk to her about it."
Travis reached out and gave his son's shoulder an appreciative squeeze, feeling him tense under his touch. He had tried, at least; he couldn't do much more than that. He turned to head back up the stairs, counting this as a small victory.
Watching him go, Chris's expression dropped back to one of disdain. As he reached the open door of his cabin, Chris stared into the room, his gaze landing on the empty space of the mattress that both his mother and Lumen had once occupied. Dropping down onto his side of the bed, he turned to the bedside table and picked up the postcard Lumen had given him back at the diner. Something small slipped off of it, landing on the floor with a metal clink. Reaching down, he grasped the chain and picked up his mother's necklace, holding it up to the light of the bedside lamp to admire the silver pendant of the Virgin Mary. The necklace had been Liza's grandmother's, passed down to her mother, then on to her. Chris couldn't remember ever seeing her without out. He had taken it off of her just before the funeral, unable to bear the thought of losing it to the sea. It was the only thing he had left to remind him of her; a small detail that he could still hold close. He placed it in his pocket for safekeeping, and began gathering up his belongings.
Alicia was relaxing on top of one of the bunks, listening to her iPod and staring up at the ceiling, when she saw her brother enter the room. He sat on the bottom bunk opposite her, deep in thought. Pulling one of her earbuds out, she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow, watching him.
"You okay?" she asked.
He glanced up and his expression became lighter for her benefit.
"Yeah. I think so. I can't stop thinking about what happened back there."
"What Lumen did?"
"No. Just…that family. It's never going to be the same for them."
Alicia paused her music and switched her iPod off, wrapping the headphones around it before placing it aside. This didn't sound like the kind of conversation she could manage with one ear and only half of her concentration.
"It's never going to be the same for any of us, Nick."
He stared at his sister, recognizing the distant look she seemed to get in her eyes often lately; the look of an accepted fate. The more she witnessed, the more she slowly came to terms with their situation and the new way of life. It hadn't taken Nick long to accept it, but then he wouldn't have made it long on the streets without his gift of adaptability.
"Have you talked to Chris lately?" she asked.
Nick's eyes flicked up to her once more. "Not really. He's keeping to himself a lot. I thought I'd give him space, you know, to deal with his mom."
Alicia's brow knitted with heavy thought. "I don't know. I mean, even when he stayed with us for Travis's weekends, he wasn't that antisocial. He always came around in the end."
"Yeah, cause you were there."
She threw her brother a look.
"He just needs to know people are there for him."
"We are. We're not exactly going anywhere, Alicia. We're all on the same boat." He snorted at his unintentional play on words and lay back on the bed, reaching up to pluck at the metal underwire of the bed above.
"Is Lumen awake?" Alicia asked, attempting to sound indifferent to the soldier's condition.
"Yeah," he replied, narrowing his eyes, "You don't have to give her any shit, though. Mom already took care of that."
She stared down at the floor and Nick could sense the mental debate going on. Lumen had at least made the effort to talk to Alicia, to try and get to know her. As one of the only other young females on the Abigail, Nick could see Lumen lending a sense of comfort and confidence to his sister, especially since Ofelia seemed to keep to herself at Daniel's behest. He just wasn't sure how she felt about the soldier after the scene with Harry. He wasn't even sure how he felt about it. Hearing footsteps in the hall, they both looked up and found their stepbrother standing in the doorway with his backpack in his hand.
"Hey," he greeted sheepishly.
Nick sat up, observing his nervous behavior, "Hey, man."
"I thought I'd free up the room for Lumen, you know, in case she needs it again."
"Yeah, sure. Plenty of room in here, man," Nick invited.
Alicia offered her stepbrother her best attempt at a smile and he seemed to relax a little as he stepped into the room, dumping his belongings on top of the bunk across from hers. The Clark siblings exchanged a look before Alicia rolled onto her back once more and picked up her phone, looking through her selection of music. It was moments like these she wished they still had a WiFi connection, ready for her to scroll aimlessly through her Facebook feed to avoid unnecessary conversation. Nick forced back a smirk at her sudden ant-social behavior.
"I'm gonna go see what's left to eat," he told them, getting to his feet and stepping past Chris, "You guys want anything?"
"I'm good," Chris replied, glancing at his stepsister.
Alicia just shook her head, then recalled her empty water bottle and tossed it to him. "Please. Thanks."
He rolled his eyes at her hurried manners and moved off towards the galley.
He found Lumen in the galley with her back to him, bent over as she looked in the fridge with a granola bar sticking out of her mouth, and took the moment to her admire her from behind. Failing to find whatever she had been looking for, she turned around and jumped at the sight of him, taking the granola bar from her mouth to speak.
"Geez, Nick. A little warning."
"I thought you heard me," he grinned, eyes shooting up from her rear as he leaned back on the counter.
She aimed a playful kick at his shin, "Fucking perv."
Taking a large bite of the bar, she offered it to him with a look of mock-sincerity and he declined with a laugh. He didn't want to think about what she had done to Harry; he wanted to believe it had been a symptom of her breakdown, that it hadn't really been her. He liked her like this; playful and quick, joking around like she had when they had first met back in the pens. He didn't want to see her go through a breakdown like that again.
"You look better," he smiled. "What did Strand say?"
"Oh, you know, the usual 'if you're not well enough to do your job, you're no use to me'."
She leaned back on the counter beside him, arms crossed as she chewed thoughtfully.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. But, you know, he's growing on me. Once you get passed the whole 'gigantic fucking asshole' aspect, he's not so bad."
She eyed him carefully and he looked back at her with mild bemusement.
"You doin' alright?" she asked, taking another bite of the bar.
His gaze fell to the floor and he moved towards the sink to fill Alicia's bottle, a task that gave him an excuse to avoid the soldier's gaze. He knew exactly what she was talking about, but he didn't want to think about. What had happened with Willa was just another misfortune brought on by his addiction.
"Hey."
He looked up and found her offering a gentle smile that eased his mood significantly.
"We're gonna be alright," she told him. She finished the last of her granola and tossed the wrapper in the trash, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder on her way past. As she reached the door, she turned back.
"Oh, hey, so what do you think about what happened with your mom? You think she'll leave it be?"
He chuckled but his expression was far from amused. His mother was not one to let things go; not when she thought she was right.
"I think you're off the hook. For now."
Lumen threw him a crooked smile, cocked her head in a kind of 'touché', and made her way up the stairs.
It was almost dark when she stepped outside, feeling the quiet calm of the ocean calling her name. She threw the blanket she had grabbed from the main room around her shoulders, grateful for the rare moment of solitude. Taking a seat by the railing, she stared down at the water. The headache was still pounding softly in the back of her head, waiting to rear up at the slightest indication of stress or discomfort, but she seemed to have it under control for now.
The attack had come on so suddenly. She tried to recall the details leading up to it and the feelings during, but her mind was doing a pretty good job of blocking most of it out. She didn't think of Willa, focusing instead on the moment she first began to feel that something was wrong. Strand had a good point; if they got into trouble, she couldn't afford to lose consciousness in the middle of a horde of infected. She forced herself to remember, hoping it might at least help her recognize the warning signs if there was a next time. She missed the simple days of jumping online and googling things.
Find: anxiety attacks. PTSD. How to deal with difficult colleagues.
PTSD. One the men from her squad in Afghanistan had committed suicide not long after one of their rotations. The officers had put it down to untreated psychological distress, encouraging any of the other soldiers worried about their mental state to seek help; but it seemed a pretty common thing. She heard of at least two a month, and knew there had to be more they didn't hear about. She had seen some pretty horrible things on tour, but she had always been able to push it down and get another night of dreamless sleep – a feat she thanked her unconscious mind for every morning. But she had known it would catch up with her one day. During an undead apocalypse just seemed like such inconvenient timing.
Just as she began to settle into her cozy spot on the bench, cushions positioned just right, she heard the door to the main room slide open. She cursed to herself for the interruption, but turned and spotted Chris approaching carrying two steaming mugs and a look of uncertainty. She looked him up and down with a curious stare and he seemed to grow even more uncomfortable under her gaze.
"Thought you could use this," he said, holding out one of the cups with a nervous smile. She accepted it and couldn't maintain her composure any longer, a large smirk spreading across her face.
"Why are you acting so weird?" she laughed, shuffling over to make room for him to sit. "It's almost as if you've seen me naked or something."
"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" he frowned, unappreciative of the teasing, taking a tentative seat beside her.
She chuckled, "Look, it's either I joke about it, or I feel incredibly uncomfortable every time I'm around you. And I'd rather it not be like that, so humor me a little."
He stared down into his cup before taking a sip.
"I took my stuff out of the room," he told her, on a more serious note, "If you want to move in there permanently. If you're still not feeling the best."
"I'm feeling fine," she assured him, "You keep it. I wouldn't know what to do with a comfortable bed and my own space."
"I should try to spend time with the others, anyway." His father's words tasted bitter in his mouth.
"You really don't want to share with me?" she joked with mock-disappointment, and he had to look at her to make sure she was joking. Of course she was, but he couldn't deny it put thoughts in his head.
He glared at her, then turned his focus back down to his mug.
"Come on, it was a joke, man," she grinned, nudging him playfully. He looked back at her and finally gave in, allowing himself a small smile as he settled back against the bench.
"Thanks for the drink. I didn't even know we had tea on board."
"I had to call in some favors," he said, glancing sideways to see if she approved of his attempt at a joke. She chuckled and they settled into a comfortable conversation, unaware they had an audience.
Travis stood in the main room watching the pair as Madison poured drinks for them behind the bar. He hadn't seen Chris smile that much since even before Liza's death. Conflicting thoughts passed through his mind, but he chose to ignore them for now, focusing instead on the beautiful woman holding out a tumbler of whiskey for him. He smiled and took it from her, following her down towards the bedroom.
Strand watched his soldier from the topmost deck. She had seemed so convinced that she wasn't manipulating the vulnerable passengers with what he supposed, for her, passed as charm. Yet here she was, chatting up a teenager like her objective wasn't to force his parents' compliance. She already had Nick under her thumb, and since the Alicia seemed a little too bright for manipulation, Travis's boy seemed the easier target. Maybe she was smarter than he gave her credit for after all. He chuckled to himself and turned back to the wheelhouse. Maybe she was finally going to prove more useful than a simple gun-for-hire.
"Just try, okay, before you end up passing out on the deck," Lumen said to Chris as they made their way downstairs towards their rooms. They had attempted to lower their voices in respect for their sleeping shipmates, but, used to using hand signals for silent communication, Lumen seemed to have trouble whispering, which made Chris laugh all the more. She had convinced him to try and force himself to get a decent night's sleep, offering suggestions to help shut out the horrible events of the past week, even though he still didn't seem to think himself capable of doing so.
"Night," he grinned, reaching the crew quarters and turning back to her.
"Night," she smiled, watching him go.
Grabbing a towel from the linen closet, Lumen collected her long-abandoned garments from the laundry and ducked into the stateroom to check for any useful items of clothing before she headed for the shower. She smiled as she spotted the gift lain out on the bed: a blue polo shirt with Abigail embroidered on the chest.
A/N: I apologize for the delay with this one, but it's my longest chapter yet! Life seemed to get in the way a lot during the process of writing this, but I want to thank my writing buddy anr017 for her continued support and encouragement, as well as the awesome ideas she helps me with. I'd also like to thank FriendlyNeighborhoodHufflepuff, Candace, angelicedg, AJ Granger and rachel101448 for reviewing! I noticed a number of you made mention of a preference for a Nick/Lumen romance. I have planned this story out up to where the show is currently, so all I can say is that I hope you like where I go with things.
The music for this chapter was: Villain by Thom Yorke, for the dream sequence, The Troubles by Lykke Li & U2, which I feel fits the theme of this chapter, and of course its namesake Dazed and Confused by Led Zeppelin.
Once again, thank you for reading, and I appreciate any feedback and reviews.