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[M]
Erin's POV.
It's been three days and I haven't heard from Eddie. It's time to pay him a visit. Since I know Jay will invite himself along, with the guise of keeping me company, when I know he just wants to make sure I'm safe, I tell him to meet me at the doc after breakfast. I decide I want to take the 300, I want be in and out of that miserable little town as quick as possible. The time I spent there is burned into the back of my head, and I fear the memories will come back to haunt me if I linger a single moment longer.
"You ready to shoot a kneecap?" Jay says teasingly, coming down the stairs with his pack.
I roll my eyes. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."
"Your lighter ready too?"
I don't miss the smug smile on his face. My guy thinks he is funny.
My guy.
Caught in the moment, I stare at him. Jay in dark wash jeans and a t-shirt is unlike any other man in any other clothes. He just wears them so well. His jeans sit low on his hip bones, his t-shirt all snug across his shoulders, chest and biceps, but obviously not because he is trying for that look. That's just how the t-shirt fits. His hair is combed to the side, his face ruggedly handsome. The scruff he seems to never shave off nowadays, makes him seem more rugged. I'd never imagined someone could take my breath away, but there have been moments in the last month that has happened.
I'm not sure how long I stand there, but Jay walks up to me and pulls me from my daze with a kiss on my lips.
"You ready?"
"Uh, yeah… I'm ready."
We hop in the 300 and hit the road.
x
We arrive that the settlement a little after ten. The sun is high and blazing and in the broad open plain the heat is oppressive. I park a little out of the way and hide the 300 under a tarp. As we walk along the warped roadway an unshakable and unreasonable feeling that something isn't right hits me. I can feel the air being slightly amiss. It's lingering, like a ghost with unfinished business. I try to brush it off, but the feeling continues to hover like a dark cloud.
I can see that Jay has caught on to my uneasiness. He keeps his eyes trained on me, brushing his fingers against mine every so often - as if his touch alone can somehow absorb my restlessness. I try to ignore it.
We arrive at Eddie's shop and I spot him behind the counter, looking worried. It's almost like his heart sinks the minute he sees us.
"H-Hey, t-there Erin," he says cautiously.
"Hey, Eddie. Got the software?" I ask, straight to the point. I want to get the hell out of here.
"It's uh… It's downloading. It's going to take a little longer than I thought," he says, nervous smile on his face.
I lean in closer. I smell a rat.
"You remember what I said would happen if I came back here and you didn't have what I needed?"
"It's right here!" He motions to a computer. "It's just gonna take a while longer. I swear."
I look him up and down. Hard to be certain, but I'm pretty sure he's lying. A cold shiver runs down my spine. Somebody spooked him.
"Eddie, hand me the software. Now," I demand.
"It's…it's not ready. Come back later." His hands are shaking.
I pull my gun out and aim it at his head. I motion to Jay and he jumps over the counter and inspects the antiquated computer.
"If you move, I'll shoot," I warn him.
Eddie doesn't blink.
After rummaging through the computer, Jay pulls a USB out. "Got it," he says and places in his pocket.
"So, I guess it was done downloading, huh?" I take two steps forwards and touch the barrel of my gun to his forehead. "Who was here? What did they want?" I ask.
Jay walks toward me, a puzzled frown on his face. "Erin-"
"I'm going to ask one more time, Eddie, who was here and what did they want?"
Eddie looks like he'd seen a ghost, which is saying something considering he already looked pale as a sheet. It takes him a moment, but he manages to compose himself enough to say. "I don't know who they were. They had guns. Big guns," he says nervously fidgeting with the cuffs on his shirt. "They c-came looking for s-someone." He bites his lower lip as his eyes moves from me to Jay.
My heart sinks.
I smash my gun on the counter. The glass display spiderwebs, but doesn't break. "What did you tell them?"
"I . . . I . . . I . . . d-don't remember," he stutters nervously.
Without an ounce of hesitation, I shoot him on his thigh. A flesh wound. Eddie falls to the ground and shrieks in pain. "Uuuhhh!" He moans and begins to rock back and forth on the dirty floor. "OOOOHHHH! It hurts."
"Relax. It's a flesh wound, barely scratch," I say. I aim my gun at the middle of his forehead. "Now, I'm not playing any games. What did they want?"
"H-Him. T-They were looking for him," Eddie points towards Jay.
"How do you know they were looking for him?"
"Erin, let's go," Jay interjects and starts to pull on my arm. "We got what we came for."
"They said they would kill me," Eddie cries, clutching the gash on his leg. "T-They are coming for him."
"When?" I say, my finger on the trigger.
"Now," Eddie whispers.
My mind churns, in despair and confusion. My heart beats frantically against my chest.
"Let's go," Jay insists. There is a sense of panic in his voice. "We gotta go!"
As soon as we leave, we hear engines nearing. Within a couple of seconds, the little village is surrounded by a circle of armed hunters. They begin to violently usher everyone in the village out of their quarters and into the center of town. We are pushed and shoved from all directions. I'm vaguely aware of commands being shouted, hurled at us, because my heart is pounding a deafening sound dangerously blocking out the noises in my surroundings.
Jay grabs me by my shoulders and starts shaking me. He is mumbling something, I can't tell what he is saying, but I can make out the words, run and go. He puts the USB inside my pocket. "Make a run for it!"
Snapping out of my stupor I say, "What? No! I'm not leaving you!" I tell him.
"No! You have to go. Now!"
He pushes me away, but I can't leave him. There is no way I'm walking out of here without him. He is my person. My guy. "Jay, stop it. I'm not going anywhere. We are going to figure this out," I say stubbornly.
"Please, Erin. Just go. You're not safe here."
I take his face in my hands and make him meet my eyes. "Jay, I'm not leaving." I interlace our fingers in case he decided to do anything heroically stupid.
In minutes, after everyone crowds at the center of town, we see the hunters pull out small hemoglobin test meters. They begin calling people one by one, pricking their fingers. They are looking for donors. They are looking for Jay. The realization makes me overcome with fear. The sweat that soaks my shirt, in an instant, goes cold.
"Erin," Jay whispers. "Go to the other side." Away from me. He doesn't say it, nevertheless, it is implied.
"No," I say curtly.
Then an idea pops into my head. I rip out a few threads from my shirt. I pull out my pocketknife and slice through my thigh, cutting and ripping my skin until blood begins to flow from the wound. It is painful. I don't feel a thing though because I'm only focusing on getting us out of here.
"Erin!" Jay takes a hold of my hand. "What are you doing?"
"I have an idea," I tell him, and busy myself soaking the threads from my shirt with my blood.
"Y-You're bleeding!"
Jay is a bit exasperated, but I try to keep a calm mind. I ignore his protesting shrieks and continue to soak the rags until they are drenched with blood. "Here," I take his hands and rub my blood all over it, then I take the rags and wrap it around both his palm.
"This might make it harder to get the signal from your blood." I tell him. "If they ask, say you cut yourself, or something."
Jay is silent, looking at his hands. His mouth starts to move as if he is trying to say something, but nothing comes out – all protests escape him.
"It will work," I assure him. Maybe reassuring myself in the process too.
"Your leg needs a tourniquet," Jay says quietly.
I take the bandana from my face and tie it around my leg. It's not a deep cup. I know I will be okay.
When the hunters get to us, my body is in such a state - trembling, my mind in overdrive - I don't even hear them call me. One of guards has to push me forward with the barrow of his long gun. Jay is none too pleased.
The man operating the meter is big and burly, with a closely shaven head and sunglasses. "Extend your hands," he orders and I comply. The machine pricks my fingers and in a second it beeps twice. "You're a carrier?" He asks.
"Y-yes," I tell him. The machine probably detected my recently acquired antibodies. "Got infected when I was a kid," I lie. "My brother too," I motion to Jay, standing a few feet behind me.
The burly man motions to one of his guards to usher Jay forward. He peers at Jay closely, searchingly. He draws back to stare at him, like something about him suddenly struck him.
"What happened to your hands?" He asks.
Jay looks down at his bandaged hands. Blood drip off and pools on the ground. "I sliced it on a blade while fighting off two vagrants."
The burly man looks Jay up and down again, scrutinizing every detail of him, the way one does a strange animal. He then nods and takes the meter, placing on his finger.
Beep.
"Hold on. These damn things." He bangs the meter a couple of times against his palm. "I have to do it again," he says.
My heart beats faster, the uncertainty turning into dispair.
The meter pricks his finger and we wait again. The time it takes for it to spit out an answer is the longest in my life. Seconds feels like hours, with life passing in slow motion while we wait for the inevitable outcome.
Beep. Beep.
The burly man looks at the screen. "You've carrier, too," he says nonchalantly.
Jay nods and looks at me. I see the sharp relief on his face, probably mirroring my own. But I hold my emotions in, pushing them back as far as I can. This is far from over.
"Got any family?"
"No" I shake my head. "Just us."
I'm trying to sound calm, but I'm missing it by a mile.
The burly man looks us up and down once more. My heart is nearly pounding out of my chest, my hands are clammy and uncontrollably shaking.
"Where you coming from?"
"Hebron," Jay pipes in.
"What are you doing this far south?"
"What's anyone doing south. Looking for water."
The man nods his head. He looks annoyed, angry even. "Go on now," he says dismissively. "Next," he bellows.
We give him a silent nod in response and begin walking away. My legs are shaking; my head feels like it's about to float away from my body. I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I quicken my pace, feeling myself start to break. Then at the sight of the 300 I fall to the hot asphalt, tears streaming down my face.
Relief, like a warm blanket, surrounds me.
Jay kneels down on the ground, just inches from my face and I can feel his warm breath against my skin. He cradles my face and brushes his thumbs from my nose to my ears, under my eyes, wiping away the tears. He starts to apologize over and over and my heart aches. He plants a kiss on my forehead. On my nose. On one cheek then on the other. On my lips.
"I'm sorry," he says. Another kiss. "I'm so sorry."
I glance up at him; his eyes are glazed. "Stop," I tell him.
He tenses and apologizes again.
"You didn't do anything wrong." I try to sound calm, despite the turmoil inside of me. I know where his thoughts are headed.
He pulls away from me slightly. "I can't keep you safe. As long as you are with me, you'll have a target on your back too."
My mind reels at his words. "Jay, look around, we are safe-"
"-For now."
I cup my hands around his face. "That's all that matters. Here. Now. Not tomorrow."
Everything seems to be spinning, so I close my eyes and rest my head on his shoulder. I lean in closer to him, pressing my face against his neck, trying not to think about what could've happened. I've never known such fear. My heart aches. I mean it really aches. I can't picture my life without him in it. I can't picture myself holding someone else's hand or kissing another set of lips. I can't imagine not waking up to him.
I know this fear of losing him will linger in my subconscious for as long as I'm alive.
"How's your leg?" He looks at me, then down at my leg. He goes to inspect it, removing the bloody bandanna from round the wound. "You could have cut through your femoral artery, you know?"
I wince at his touch. "It's just a flesh wound. I'll survive."
"We have to get the blood stopped."
He tears the hem of his shirt and soaks them with water from his canteen. Then he begins to gently clean the wound. It takes him a few minutes, working carefully around the wound, pouring water into it and delicately removing particles of sand and anything else that might cause an infection. By the time he is finished, there are three piles of blood-soaked threads and two empty canteens. He ties a makeshift bandage around my leg, heavily padding the wound.
"This should hold until we get back to the Refuge."
"I guess we're even now." I say lightheartedly.
Jay frowns.
"You saved me. And I just saved you," I explain.
He cracks a small, watery smile. "Yeah, I guess we're even now."
X
It's been two days since the scare at village. We've had extensive meetings and debriefings about what transpired, and now we operate under a new set of precautions. It's apparent that the Aedes is actively searching for Jay. Whatever their master plan is, Jay seems to be the missing piece.
I'm just trying to forget it happened, forget the fear, forget the feeling of utter loss. I try to convince myself that it was all a bad dream. But the truth is, it wasn't a bad dream; it was very real.
Jay doesn't talk about it. I think the memory is still too raw to touch. All his fears about us being together almost came to pass – almost being the operative word here. I can feel his grief; it cuts deep within me, plunging me into a pool of sadness that feels as if it could engulf me.
We are waiting in the 300 for the team to finish scavenging a junk yard of old computers parts when I get an idea. Jay helped me out of my funk a few days ago. It's my turn to reciprocate the gesture. I look at him and he is unusually quiet, leaning back in the passenger seat, fingers fiddling aimlessly with the radio.
My hands find their way to his thigh, fingers slowly traveling upward.
He turns with a raised eyebrow. "Erin…" Jay grabs my hand. "We are the lookout."
"I know," I say and lean in and kiss him softly. Nothing has ever made my heart pound as much as being with him. And I want to show him that. I want him to know that he is worth it. Whatever he thinks I'm sacrificing or risking, it's all worth it.
"Backseat," I say.
Jay stills for a moment and studies my face. "What are you-"
"-C'mon," I persuade him.
We clamber into the backseat and I roll down the windows halfway for air. I straddle him, feeling the bulge between his legs growing. My hands go for his pants.
"Erin…" He says cautiously.
"I just want to help you take your mind off things," I tell him and skate my finger along his waist, and his muscles tighten, his blue eyes widens.
I undo his belt and zipper, and move his boxers lower, freeing him.
"We are going to do this here? Now?" He asks in disbelief.
"You won't be doing a thing." He eyes me incredulously as I slide to my knees onto the floorboard, and take him in my hand. I start to stroke him and his breath shortens with my touch.
"Jesus Erin, what are you doing?"
"If you don't know I think we have a problem." I laugh at the mixture of excitement and concern that sweeps his face. "Try to relax, okay?" I say and lower my mouth, taking his tip in ever so slightly, tasting the salty, musky flavor of him. it's the briefest of touches, my lips just on him. But he inhales sharply, his eyes turning a dark shade of blue.
"God, Erin…" he groans, his hand fisting at his sides.
I want him.
With one hand I brace myself on his thighs, and with the other I grip him firmly in place, allowing me to set a rhythm – a bit sweet and a whole lot torturous. I swirl my tongue around his tip, teasing him, feeling the softness of him. He lets out a small moan. I look up, his eyes are closed, his head is back. I let my tongue trail down his length and then all the way back up before drawing him deeper. I feel his body twitch.
"Oh God..." He grits out. I look up to see him panning his head around. "They…the, um, team…. I think…. are coming."
I check. No one's coming. "I can guarantee that the only person who will be coming is you." I watch him squirm before me. "What? You're not enjoying it?" I ask mischievously.
"I am. Too much," he groans, barely getting the words out.
"Good."
I press a kiss to his shaft and my lips surround him again. I slide my mouth up and back, and with each slick motion, I go farther down, closer to the base. Jay is getting restless, if that's the right word. He is so tense that every stroke of my tongue and caress of my lips has him teetering closer to the edge. His hands are reaching blinding against the seat to steady himself. I feel him holding back, holding tight. So when I go all the way in, letting my teeth graze his skin slightly, his whole body tightens. Then, wave after wave of pure, raw pleasure rockets through him. A moan tears from his throat and echoes in the old 300.
Jay is gasping, I can hear his heart hammering and his lungs scrambling for air as I swallow the warm, salty fluid.
"Jesus Christ, Erin," he cries out.
When he opens his eyes, I slowly pull away and move back up to straddle him again. I lean my forehead against his while he catches his breath. A huge, albeit bashful smile is pulling at the corners of his lips.
"You leave me breathless, you know that?" He playfully bites my shoulder, sending shivers down my body.
"That was the plan." I say with a grin.
"C'mon." He gently taps my bottom. "I need to get myself straight before the guys come back out."
I really don't want to move. I am rather enjoying where I am. Sighing, I move back to the driver's seat. "Fine," I mumble.
Moments later he scrambles back to the passenger seat, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. He leans close and says in rugged voice, "You're the best thing I have." He winks and bites my bottom lip, I laugh. His voice finally has some life in it.
I love that I was the one that put it there.
Thanks for reading. Also, feel free to ask any questions. I will do my best to reply. =)