CHAPTER ELEVEN

Secrets

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Three weeks passed, and the rain grew heavier. By the first week of september, there was green everywhere, present on every rock, crawling on the walls. Ravens were found bathing on branches, their wings spread out leisurely, beaks pointed at the clouds. The river flow grew vicious, almost rising up to the level of the bridge, engulfing the banks that Joel and Ellie used to walk their horses along.

People rarely went outside into the woods, except for the regular perimeter check that was now done once in three days. Electricity worked all-time, with the dam roaring at full swing, brimming with fresh rain water. The only problem was the wires and poles collapsing or breaking, cutting off supply to a few parts frequently.

Joel hated the rain. Ellie, on the other hand, loved it. She danced in it once in a while, before Joel or Kenda called her back in, saying that she would catch a cold. Vera accompanied her sometimes, and they leaped around in puddles, poked at snails and collected water in their hands to splash it at each other.

Kenda visited often, came by atleast thrice a week. Joel found it a bit embarrassing that he couldn't get intimate with her, with Ellie and Vera in the house. He yearned for it, and saw it in Kenda too, but she never made any attempt to ask him for privacy. Ellie would give him these smug smiles whenever him and Kenda were alone together, and that very expression was enough for him to be put down.

He never got enough privacy with her at the dam either, nor at the warehouse. They did find it sometimes, very rarely, either while coming back home or when Ellie and Vera went out for a while to play or something. But he never had the opportunity to spend a night with her. He thought of going to the same cabin again, but realised that it must be teeming with spores by now, with fungal growth lacing the walls from those dead runners.

He didn't want to leave Ellie alone for a night either. Even when he thought of it briefly, an anxious fear filled his mind and he immediately rejected the idea. He knew she could take care of herself, but he was never at peace when away from her. Something else sprouted in his heart when he thought of it.

Remorse, guilt. He found it unsettling for himself, to get away and spend time with a special someone, when he knew he had started this life with a lie.

September was almost over, and on a particularly rainy day, he sat in the warehouse with Kenda after work, talking.

'What else did you do?' Joel asked her. She sat beside him, elbows rested on the crate.

She had told him about the time she had spent in Chicago four years ago, how she had survived in the city even after the QZ fell. She had left behind a major chunk of events, and abruptly started in the middle, but Joel knew better about heavy secrets. He let her talk, unquestioning.

'I escaped the hunters,' she said. 'I evaded them for months, because I knew that city so well. It didn't help that I kept running into infected though. So I mostly avoided buildings, except a few times to drop in for supplies,' she explained. 'I lived in scraps. Sometimes on the train platforms. I went on boats often, because it was safe and they usually had supplies.' She looked at him, continuing. 'I remember I lived in the lighthouse for a few months. First day I lured in all the infected with glowsticks and stuff, locked them in a metal room with a few explosives, and never opened the door again.'

Joel raised his eyebrows, impressed. 'No hunters?' he asked, curiously.

'They dropped by once a while, looking for supplies,' she said. 'Whenever they did, I hid myself in this trapdoor near the light. Once one of them caught me there, so I fought off and escaped in the boat they had arrived in. Then the fuckers occupied the tower.'

He shook his head heavily. 'Goddamn,' he simply uttered. 'Remind me never to get on your bad side.'

'It's not that bad,' she shrugged, with a bemused smile. 'I mean, it might sound impressive, but the truth is that I was hiding most of the time,' she nodded. 'I knew the city's safe zones, I had enough supplies and I knew how to sit in a place without making any sound or movement.'

'Did you ever come across someone to . . accompany you?' he asked.

Her eyes widened for a second, and he caught the emotion in them before she masked it. 'Yeah,' she accepted. 'Her name was Janine,' she looked down at her hands as she spoke. 'We travelled and survived together in Chicago. Had each others backs for nearly two years. She'd heard of Jackson county and told me about it. We head out together. Stumbled upon a pack of infected in St. Louis,' she shook her head lightly, like she was still trying to convince herself that it had really happened. 'There were too many. She took the upper hand and told me to run . .'

Joel looked at her sympathetically, because he knew exactly what she felt. He remembered Sam and Henry, the blast of the gun and their limp bodies beside a brimming pot of stew.

'When I came here, I thought of going back a number of times, to look for her. Shared it with Maria. Both her and Tommy told me that she could not have made it.'

'There was nothing you could've done,' he mumbled. He put his hand on hers comfortingly, and the chatters from other parts of the warehouse faded.

Kenda gazed at him for a few seconds, opened her mouth to say something, and then stopped.

Joel hesitated for a second, confused at her turning her head away. Then she looked at him again.

'You alright?' he asked, his voice conerned and soft, his fingers interlacing with hers on the table. She simply gazed at him, thoughts racing in her head.

She nodded twice, her eyes drifting to the window. Joel stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and when he looked at her again, he felt the finality in his mind, sitting in one place and refusing to move like a stubborn child.

He felt a plethora of emotions erupt in his mind, and when she looked up at him, he saw the same thing rising in her, beautifully mixed with sorrow and desire.

'Come home with me,' she mumbled, squeezing his fingers.

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The rain progressed to a thunderstorm, water pouring down heavily, hitting the window glass and roof. Wooden houses dripped and gave way to large quantities of it, and thankfully, Kenda's was made of solid brick.

Joel watched the water trickling down and splashing against the window in Kenda's bedroom, leaning against the headboard. A flash of lighting disturbed his sight, followed by a thunderous roar.

He looked to his side, saw Kenda asleep under the sheets, her head turned towards him, right hand wrapped around his. Her face was flushed, but still beautiful. Her hair lay in a dark messy cloud around her head, spread across the pillow. Strands fell on her cheeks, and he gently pushed them away, trying not to wake her up. She was exhausted, and he could tell that she wouldn't be rousing for a few hours. Her skin looked soft, supple, inspite of all the harshness it had endured. She felt surprisingly smooth in his hands. He adored that sensation.

She had lazily put on his blue plaid shirt to keep herself warm, and her hands almost drowned in the enormous sleeves. He glanced at the watch on her bedside table and squinted to see. It was almost seven o'clock. He could still stay. Ellie was used to him coming back at nine sometimes.

He sat by her for a while, gazing at her, fascinated by the faint mumbling she did rarely - almost incoherent. He made out a few words like 'Can't' and 'gone'. He could tell that it was a nightmare. Nobody had normal dreams anymore.

He wanted to hold her in his arms again, feel her heat, bury himself in it. But he didn't want to wake her up. He wished that she would open her eyes by herself, so he could atleast tell her how wonderful it was before he left.

Gently, he pulled his hand away from hers, and stepped out of the bed. He dressed, wore only the grey T-shirt, leaving the plaid one on her. He could feel the slight sting on the back of his shoulders from the scars her nails had left behind. He went into her bathroom and splashed his face twice with the chilled water, wiped it with a towel and came back out. He tiptoed out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him, leaving a tiny gap.

Her living room was quite small, and didn't have much in it, except a small table and two chairs. There were mantle pieces above an abandoned fireplace, and a few pictures frames in the hall. He walked by, observing the pictures, and saw a younger Kenda in them. All of them were either torn or half burnt, but he could make out backgrounds, parts of faces, all from an innocent time. He looked at the fireplace, and caught something glinting under all the burnt out wood. There was a mountain of ash, and on the back, in the very corner, he saw a silvery shine.

He smiled, and reached out for it slowly, expecting another memento from her past. He held it and pulled it out, and the familiar texture confused him, tore his mind to a million pieces. He didn't look at it, but held it in his hand, eyes on the window, on the rain and the lightning.

'No, no, no,' he heard himself chanting, his voice barely a whisper. He felt a sickening drain of energy as his mind reeled in confusion. He felt like he had been thrown onto a roller coaster, everything around him racing by, incomprehensible. His eyebrows drew together, his mouth disfigured in a scowl.

With a trembling motion, he slowly opened his fist, felt the blood gushing back to his fingertips as he unclenched it. He forced his eyes to drift to it.

A flash of lighting, and he saw.

A circular, silver pendant. The same symbol he despised - four wings. He turned it over.

Kenda-Marie Deloria. 000055.