Vacant – Chapter 13

"Jesus Christ, Tris," he said in disbelief. He began walking towards where I sat against the cold metal interior of the trailer.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, surprised by his sudden appearance. "I thought you were staying behind at the manor…"

He waved me off as if his family house wasn't worth mentioning at the moment. "Nevermind that," he dismissed the thought. "What happened to you? Are you hurt?" I slouched back a bit, relaxing at his concern. I dropped both of my hands down from their hostile positions, taking the light off if his face. I let the pistol fall from my hand, and I set the flashlight next to me, facing up, in a way that the light beam bounced off of the ceiling and illuminated the entire trailer. In this light, I watched as Al came and crouched in front of me, staring at my ankle. His hands hovered over it, looking for the best places by which to hold it. He tried one position, but I winced in pain and tried to draw my foot back. He looked up at me.

"Sorry," he apologized.

I shook my head. "Don't worry about it," I said. "I think I sprained it in the rain. I haven't gotten a good look at it yet, though." Al nodded while still examining my self-diagnosed ankle.

"Seems like you're right," he agreed. "Looks sprained. We should wrap it." He stood, and I tried to stand with him, but he set his hands on my shoulders. "No, no, no," he said. "Let me. I'll do it."

I paused, but then followed his orders. I sat back and rested, but pointed at my bundle of supplies on the ground a few feet away. "There's some medical wrap somewhere in there, I think," I offered. He nodded and crouched down there, shifting some things out of the way before he finally held up a limp roll of medical gauze. I nodded. He came back to me and had me scoot over. He sat next to me, and I let him pull my injured foot up onto his lap. He began to work on it.

I found this to be the perfect opportunity to question him.

"How'd you show up here, Al?" I asked him. "There's no better way to tell me. I mean, I'm glad of course, but I thought you couldn't stand to leave the house…"

He continued to pull the wrap around and around my ankle strategically. He shook his head and paused, thinking about what to say. Then he continued. "I couldn't stand the thought of you out here alone, and then it started raining. I packed a few things as fast as I could and started out here, but I then I saw the broken chain at the entrance, and I got worried. I started driving north like I had told you to do, and I found the four-wheeler just parked out front, the keys missing, so I knew you had them. By then, it was really storming. I found you here… And if I can't convince you to come back with me, then I'm coming with you to the city." He finished with the wrap, and looked down, away from my eyes. I rested a hand on his thigh, causing him to look there, and then up at me. He placed his hand on mine, and I realized what this might have looked like on the outside: like two lovers caught in the rain.

At this point, the last thing I wanted to do was lead him on. I chose to give an air of humor, then.

"Well, then," I said, changing the subject. "Looks like we're going to the city." I laughed and he did the same, probably not because I was funny, but rather because he wasn't sure what else to do. I took this opportunity to pull my hand away.

I tucked some hair behind my ear and scooted a bit away from him, suddenly becoming conscious of my nakedness. He looked down, too, noticing my embarrassment and quickly looked away. He stood from his crouch and moved away.

"I'll get you some dry clothes, then," he suggested.

I offered a weak, "Thanks," meanwhile pulling the blanket up and wrapping it around myself.

He faced the other wall while I got dressed, trying to busy himself with fixing a lock onto the doors of the trailer. I moved up next to him when I finished. I was still standing, but I peered around the trailer, remembering the trucker I had dragged in here. But I couldn't find him. I moved boxes and crates around, searching everywhere, becoming increasingly concerned, enough so that my breath even picked up in pace.

He wasn't here anymore.

The only explanation I could think of was impossible. But now Al was concerned with my concern.

"Tris," he said, standing from his position. "Tris, what's wrong? Why are you pacing?" I spun around once or twice in panic before Al grabbed me by my shoulders and gave me a small shake. I looked at him, scared.

"He's gone," I said. "He's gone."

His brows wrinkled in confusion, so he shook his head and blinked a few times. "What?" he asked. "Who? Who's gone?"

"The trucker," I yelled incredulously. "He's gone. There was a trucker in the cab of the eighteen-wheeler, and he was dead. But he was like your brother, Al. He hadn't turned, but he had been dead for a while. He wasn't infected, so I dragged him in here and sat him up against the wall, but he's gone now." A sudden thought hit me, so I looked around again, but I was right.

Zombie was missing, too.

"Jesus Christ, Al," I said. "He's gone. Zombie. He left. They both did." I grabbed my hair and spun in another circle. This time when Al tried to grab me, I flung myself away from him; he dropped his arms. I stumbled away from him and sat back down on the crates and boxes. I pushed myself against the wall and let my head fall back. I let my eyes close and I lied down. I hadn't been this miserably distraught since the very beginning. I had been angry and frustrated and pissed plenty of times, but I hadn't felt true sadness since everything I had loved had been ripped from my life. I had found this feeling to be the most difficult which with to deal. I turned away from the doors of the trailer and faced the blank wall. I subconsciously decided to deal with this all tomorrow. A few minutes passed and I forgot about Al. He must have been standing there for a while. But then I felt a gentle force lie down behind me. It gave me slight discomfort, but I was too upset to say anything to him.

But then he wrapped an arm around me; I stopped breathing. I was actually extremely uncomfortable at this point, but I lied still for a few minutes. Finally, I was about to say something about my supposed boyfriend, but I stopped myself.

He wasn't real. None of it was real. I figured that as soon as I convinced myself of that, I'd be freer. As long as I played this charade, I wasn't doing myself any good. I was only deceiving myself. I was telling myself that there was in fact a happy ending to be had, that I could actually live the life I wanted, one with a lover and freedom. I could live a life without fear.

But none of this was realistic. I wasn't being realistic, and I hated myself for this. I was a fool to think I had a future with some stranger like the one I had attacked. I wasn't ever going to see him again; he was probably dead. And the chances of finding anyone else in the world were unlikely, considering the lack of communication or transportation. The people with whom I could possibly have a future were right here in front of me, and if I were too blind to see it, I didn't deserve to live in this world.

And Al. Al was a reliable man to depend on, if I were to choose. He was here now, and that was enough. He had implied that there was a future for us, and that was more than enough. It was a promise in a sense; he was giving me more than anyone else could at the moment, and I was thinking about loving him. Maybe it wasn't necessary, not really for survival. But if he were to love me in the future, I'd be doing him a favor to make the feeling mutual. And it had always been my theory that if you were to spend enough time with another person, you'd develop feelings for them. Maybe not romantic or sexual, but it would be a bond that could only be described as love. That was why I thought Stockholm Syndrome was so terrifying.

So it wasn't such a wild thought to think that we could have a relationship that could blossom. He had lots to offer, and to pass that up would be a mistake I'd probably regret later.

After all of this went through my head, Al's breathing behind me had slowed and steadied. He was asleep, and I figured I'd do the same. It was late and there was no use worrying about Zombie or the truck driver. Chances were, one would show up tomorrow without the other. I closed my eyes and calmed my breathing. I cleared my mind of any negative thoughts, and I focused on making it through the night, reassured that Al would be there in the morning.

…

I woke to the serene-like sounds of birds chirping outside and twigs snapping on the ground outside. The blankets were for the most part, away from me. Except I didn't feel cold at all. Instead, there was the smell of fresh earth and fallen rain from last night's storm. The bottom door had swung shut, which was peculiar, but I couldn't remember if we had closed it last night. Warm air blew in gently.

I sat up and patted my hand behind me, searching blindly for Al. Except my hand never found his large body, but rather the ruffled blanket on which he had laid the night before. The area was still warm, so he hadn't been up for long. I looked around frantically and listened again intently for the noise I had heard before. The branches snapping sounded unintentional and unmatched. I realized that they couldn't have been Al, since they sounded completely haphazard. Although he might have lacked grace or stealth, he would be able to maintain some kind of timing to his steps.

I though back to the night before, when both Zombie and the trucker had gone missing. My heart began beating faster and adrenaline rushed through my veins as I let my feet fall to the ground gracefully. The metal floor was cold, but I barely felt it. I let the weight of my body balance on my feet as I stood. I made my way over to the pile of supplies I had brought inside the night before and grabbed a new change of clothes. I only had time to slip on a pair of loose black cargo pants when I heard the snapping stop. I paused. The woods were close to the tipped trailer, meaning they were right at the edge of the pavement. I only had a few seconds before it would be at the edge of the doors. I moved to where my pistol lay on the ground, picking it up and holding it in my palm, safety off but facing down. I moved to the edge of the doors. If the Turned wasn't a cripple, it wouldn't be able to see my feet at the door, since it would be too tall. I moved my ear closer to the upper door, which was still shut. I listened for any movement to give away its position; instead I heard soft padding, like skin on the pavement. I still needed confirmation that it was a Turned so I could use a bullet. And if it didn't attack first, I'd simply stick to using a blade to preserve ammunition. I brought the pistol up and hit the upper door slightly, just to give a sign that there was life inside the trailer. This would surely piss it off enough to make a vocal, or at least guttural, sound.

Instead what I got was a bark. From a dog. I dropped down immediately into a crouch to look outside. I recognized the familiar bronze coat of Zombie. I said her name once in a small questioning tone. She barked again in response. I let out an excited screech, and she barked again as I crawled out from the trailer, letting the pistol lay a few feet away. I opened my arms to her and she moved into them, making small prancing motions with her feet, bouncing up and down. She nudged my forearm once and did a nosedive into the pavement, rolling over onto her back. I sat next to her and scratched her fur. She lied like a beetle on its back with her head tilted to one side and her tongue sticking out one side of her mouth. She had a stupid smile on her face as I started scratching her chin.

This was a new side of her I had yet to be introduced to. It was weird to see her like this, considering that when I found her, she was weak and bloodied, and only a few days ago, she had torn the throat out of the Turned. I didn't care much, though. I knew there were sides of me that no one had seen before. And no one was ever made up just of a fight; there was always a big sweetheart in everyone.

I heard more snapping of twigs from the woods, and before I could think, I had the pistol in my hand aimed up at the noise, my finger by the trigger. My vision focused on the target in front of me, and Zombie got to her feet quickly, a snarl tugging at her teeth. Except her vision cleared before mine. She saw the familiar before I did and relaxed. She walked forward and rubbed her wet snout on the back of my hand that held the pistol.

"Put the gun down, Tris," Al said at the end of my pistol. He stood a few feet away, but since I was crouching, he stood towering over me. I exhaled and dropped my head, standing up. He walked towards me, resting a hand on my shoulder. I looked at it and tried to hide my discomfort again at touch. I cleared my face and put on a smile instead. I motioned to Zombie.

"She came back this morning. Just showed up," I told him. He laughed lightly and looked down. I made a confused expression for a few seconds before laughing, too. "You brought her back, didn't you?" I asked. That's why he had come out from the woods right behind her. He didn't confirm it, but he laughed a bit more instead, which worked just as well. I tried to look at the scene from the outside and saw us together, laughing with his hand on my shoulder. This was a start, but I'd have to help out if the relationship were to sprout at all.

I gathered the courage and my hand twitched. I finally moved it up to rest on his hand. He looked up at me, staring into my eyes, doing that quite romantic thing with his eyes, where they bounce between your own two eyes, focusing on one and then the other. He moved in a bit closer and brought his other hand up from his side and hovered it over my cheek. I noticed then how cool the air was compared to his hand. And when he actually rested it on my cheek, it felt slightly damp, in a clammy way. He was nervous about this.

I didn't know whether to be anxious about this too, or rather over it. Because at that point, my mind was rushing with different feelings. They were old feelings, ones that I had already had before, regarding the possibility of a relationship with Al. I remembered my new mindset: any relationship at this point would be worth it, no matter with whom it existed. So I closed my eyes before he did and leaned in. We made brief contact before I pulled away, looking down. He lifted my chin up with a finger.

"It's okay," he whispered. He leaned in again, and the kiss occurred for the second time, a bit longer this time. Except this time, he moved his hand down from my cheek to my waist, pulling me closer. I stumbled into him and put a hand up to his chest. I told myself this was to steady myself, but I knew deep down it might have been to keep some distance between us. I pulled away a second time and brought a second hand up, applying small pressure, but not in a hostile manner. He brought his head up and rested it on mine. I was sure his eyes were closed, but mine were wide open. My mind was racing, deciding whether I should be regretting this or trying to go along with it for now.

As far as Al knew, I had a boyfriend. And right now I was cheating. He shouldn't be surprised if I stopped him right now. He'd have to deal with it, right? He wouldn't want to get in the way of two people who were supposedly in love, even if one of them happened to be fake.

I thought about the day ahead of us, wondering if we were supposed to continue the journey to the city, or if we'd rest here for a while. Yesterday, I was in a hurry because I thought the winter was rolling in fast, except now, I wasn't too sure. It was warmer than the day before, and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The sun shined down warmly and heated my bare shoulders. It was then that I realized I was just in a sports bra and the cargo pants. I stepped back from Al, trying to regain the confidence I had maintained only a few days ago when I had first met him. Now, I was all flustered like him, and this was wearing away at my poise. I was concerned that my dependence on him last night had given him the wrong idea. I ran my hands through my hair and pulled it back over my shoulders in one swift motion. I looked up to the sky again, but this time ignoring the clouds or lack thereof and instead focusing on the sun and its position in the sky. I wondered what time it was, since I had actually woken up refreshed. It looked like it was a few hours passed noon, which surprised me a bit, but Al spoke before I could voice it.

"We should get some food, huh?" he suggested. I nodded as he ran a hand over his chin.

"Yeah, we should," I agreed.

"I went out this morning to scavenge a bit," he continued. "But I couldn't find anything but a couple of these weird berries." He pulled a small pouch out of his pocket and opened it, pouring the contents into his other hand. I looked down at them, but they didn't look familiar. It was kind of cute to see him want to try to help and participate in surviving, but as I had already suspected, he had lived a sheltered life. He had probably never fired a firearm, or maybe even gone camping. I doubted he could hunt, and these "weir berries" of his could get us killed. So maybe he'd be more of a burden than a benefit, but he was a companion all the same, which was worth almost any price. And I didn't want to let him down too harshly.

"I'm not really sure what those are, so we'd better not risk it," I suggested. "I was thinking more along the lines of preparing something from our packs."

"Oh," he said, slightly embarrassed. "Right, of course." He turned and threw the berries away into the woods, making a quiet pattering noise. I turned around, too, squatting down to grab my pistol and slipping it back into my belt, safety on. When our backs were turned, I let out another shaky breath, except now it was from chills. I needed a shirt first.

Walking towards the trailer, Al stopped me with his voice. "Hey, Tris," he said, pausing for me to turn to him. I did. "I you wanted to wash up a bit, I found a small creek out about a mile into the trees."

I was about to deny the offer, just out of habit, but then I really thought about it. I hadn't been really clean for a while. The rain from last night had left my body sticky and when I was at the mansion, I had used the sinks to wash myself. My hair was knotted and my skin felt clammy.

"Alright," I agreed. "I'll check it out."

….

Christina POV

I woke in the morning slightly dazed, wondering where the hell I actually was. I sat up from my position and moved my legs around a bit to wake them up. I looked around the room and realized I was sitting on a bed, where I had slept the night before. Beside me, Will's chest rose and fell silently. I remembered the day before, when we had been traveling down the highway, and we had spotted the heavy clouds ahead of us. Will had sent me ahead of the van to try to scope out any kind of shelter for us to use. I had gone only a few hours before I had found the broken chains that had previously blocked off a dirt path to where we were now, which is to say the mansion.

It was peculiar the first time I had saw it. I thought I was high or something, to find something so beautiful and dark so deep in the woods of rural Illinois. I had left the motorcycle and looked in a few windows, checking for any dead, but there had been none. And then lightning had struck somewhere in the distance, so I had decided to return back to Will and the others. And when I had gotten back, there were others with them, another party. Will had told me that they were supposed to help with Caleb's situation, but when I got a look of them, they all seemed like fighters. We had a quick introduction, but then the rain was almost on us, so Will decided to save some information for later. So we got in our van, and they got in their RV, and we were all on our merry way. Except, when we were in the van, Will had told me who they were, what they had done to Tris.

When I saw them again, I had walked right up to Four and punched him in the face. Very blunt. He had been taken aback, but then came at me again, except now Will was there between us, holding Four back. I had started yelling at him, but I couldn't quite remember what I had said. Shauna had told me to calm down, claiming that they had just lost one of their own, Eric. She told me that it wasn't their fault that Tris was now missing. She had escaped them supposedly and it was on her. Marlene had interfered then, urging us to check out the mansion to see if it was clear. Caleb needed medicine and rest quickly, so we had stopped fighting for a while, and I pushed away my anger.

It didn't take us long to clear the building, but that was because there was nothing to clear. No Turned had been walking through the halls or the stairs or the rooms. I had checked the main floor and found the pantry full of food. And an unnerving frayed rope hanging from one of the rafters inside. I introduced Shauna to the room, and she got to work on meals for us before we turned in for the night.

Will and Four had taken the upstairs, clearing one room, moving Mar and Caleb there and then continuing. Apparently, there were some painkillers in a medicine cabinet in one of the master bedrooms, so Caleb had been knocked out for the rest of the night, Marlene checking on him every now and then. The brothers, Uriah and Zeke, from the other group had done a perimeter sweep outside until it started to rain before retreating back inside. By then, everyone was finished with the investigations, so we had come around the table and sat in silence with bowls of cold vegetable soup in front of us. Shauna had worked hard on the meal, though, so I had tried it. Zeke from the other group had made a comment on it, to which Shauna smiled and blushed in return. I glared at him until he looked away. Four had excused himself without eating anything and retired to one of the rooms upstairs, locking the door behind him. Uriah and Zeke took a room a little further down the hall, and Shauna and Lynn had stayed downstairs in the dusty sitting room alone to catch up. We left them to talk. Will and I had dismissed ourselves finally. He had begun walking up the stairs as I trailed behind him, stressed. I had grabbed his arm, stopping him. He had turned to look at me, "What?"

"You can't be serious," I had said incredulously. "You're letting them just walk in here and sleep beside us?" I asked. It was rhetorical.

"They're harmless," he dismissed me, beginning to walk up the stairs again.

"They are not," I argued. "They can't be. Not Four at least, and I'm skeptical about the other two, too. The brothers seem like they'd just follow whatever orders he throws at them."

He didn't respond. I stared at him, raising my eyebrows. A creek sounded right by my head where the landing was nest to me. Will looked over, but my hand flew to my holster. The lights were off and it was dark, the only source of light was the moonlight shining through the small circular window at the end of the hallway upstairs.

We waited for any movement or sounds again, but nothing came. He took this as an opportunity to take his arm away and start moving up the stairs again. I let him go, but continued behind him.

We took the room at the end of the hall by the landing, and I locked the door behind us.

"Uriah said there was a generator outside," Will told me, trying to get away from the conversation. "The sinks are supposed to work. You should go wash up. I'll go after you."

I was beginning to think that he didn't want to talk about his cousin anymore. He didn't think she was still alive. But that wasn't a reason to let her killers now kill us. "Will," I said with a humorless laugh. "You're not thinking straight. They probably killed her, maybe got rid of her in unorthodox ways. They might have made her suff-"

"Christina!" Will shouted. "Forget Tris! Forget her! She's gone and she's not coming back. We're getting to the city. This isn't a fucking rescue mission for her. She's not the focus; our destination is. Forget about Tris!" We remained silent for a few seconds. His eye twitched.

"I can't," I whispered. "She saved my life, Will. Your cousin saved my life when she could have left me for dead. I refuse to do that to her."

I pursed my lips and looked away. I walked to the bathroom without another word, closing the door and locking it behind me. I splashed my face like he had suggested, resting my hands on the counters, looking in the mirror. I spotted the tub behind me and squinted. I turned just my head for a better view. There was a small strip of fabric hanging limply on the tub's faucet. I went to inspect it, but found instead that it was stained of blood and was a bit frayed around one end. I heard a knock at the bedroom door; it opened. I moved to the bathroom door to listen. A female voice spoke, which I recognized to be Marlene's. She spoke to Will for a bit, but I didn't hear his voice at all throughout the exchange. She seemed to be dominating the conversation. I waited until the door closed again.

Then I unlocked the bathroom door loudly, announcing my presence without speaking. I walked out and stood by one of the bed's posts. Will was quiet, but then I heard the bathroom door close. I turned to find that he was gone. The faucet turned on inside.

I moved on to take off my belt and clothes, stripping to my underwear. I moved to one of the dressers, finding clothes belonging to a woman. I pulled out a pair of leggings and slipped into those. There didn't seem to be any tops to sleep in so I moved on to the room's closet, sliding open the doors. This was obviously a man's closet, but it was better than nothing. I grabbed a white button-down from a hangar and threw it on my shoulders, feeling its comfort. I decided it was only to sleep in, and began moving back to the bed. I began buttoning it up, looking down.

When I was finished, I looked up to find Will standing there in the doorway of the bathroom. I let my hands drop from the buttons. His chest was bare, which was a pleasant sight, and he must have taken a pair of sweatpants from the man's dresser, because he was wearing a pair and held his old jeans in his hand.

Until this point, we hadn't really spoken about the sleeping arrangements, but there seemed to be a mutual agreement. We'd sleep together, but only sleep. We could be platonic; it wasn't impossible.

So I moved to the bed and pulled back the sheets on my side. He followed and did the same. I crawled in and lie facing away from him. I kept my eyes open, but steadied my breath, still slightly thrown from what Will had said earlier. Except something told me Marlene had heard it all and come to talk about it with him. I wanted to thank her for something I couldn't do. Instead of comforting Will about Tris, I said I would try to help her. I guess in a way it had implied that he wouldn't, that he was doing nothing. And that must have been a blow.

I let my eyes close finally and stopped fidgeting. Thirty minutes might have passed without sleep coming to me and I heard Will speak behind me. "I'm sorry, Christina," he whispered, and I wondered if he had meant for me to hear it.

It didn't matter. I think the feeling was mutual. We were all sorry.

But it was too late for apologies.