Thanks for making it this far! As I was writing this story, it sort of fell into a three act structure. Chapters 1-7 can be considered Act One, or what I like to think of as the B.C. portion of the story (Before Camille). Now, with her on board, the story can progress into it's next arc.
Welcome to Act Two.
Chapter Eight: Holding on tight
The first thing Richard became aware of was the gentle tapping on his shoulder. The second thing was her.
Evidently, things had changed during the night and instead of simply holding hands, they had decided to hold a great deal more. Camille was lying almost completely on his chest and both of his arms were wrapped securely around her. As he slipped steadily into wakefulness, he felt her squirm around to minutely change her position, punctuating her movements with a soft moan. Richard increased his grip around her ever so slightly. The tapping persisted.
"Richard," he heard in a whispered voice. "Richard, I'm sorry to disturb you, but it's Trevor. He's gotten worse."
That caused Richard to open his eyes and turn in the direction of the voice. He made an unintelligible grumble that he vaguely intended to mean "Tell me more," and squinted up at his awakener with one eye while the rest of his body succumbed to a stretch.
All of the movement and sound seemed to wake Camille as well. She breathed in deeply and turned her head, rubbing her sleepy face across his shirt before lifting her half-lidded gaze. "Good morning," she said drowsily, and surely, this was the best morning of Richard Poole's life.
"Good morning," he echoed, looking down at her and causing the skin to bunch up in rolling wrinkles at his throat. Probably not very attractive, but she smiled at him anyway, rolling off of his chest and back onto her side. Richard's ribs immediately ached at the relief. They both rubbed their eyes and scratched their faces and looked up at the man who had awakened them.
The doctor grimaced sympathetically at them both. "Again, I am sorry for disturbing you. …Hello," this last part, Holden nodded towards the mysterious woman whom Richard was still holding with one arm.
Richard looked between them and had the presence of mind to make introductions. "Doctor, this is Camille. Camille, this is Booker Holden, the doctor I told you about."
"How do you do?" Camille replied, her voice scratchy and adorable.
"Charmed," Holden said with a contemplative twinkle in his eye. "…Richard never mentioned-"
"What was it? You were saying, about Trevor?" Richard hastily interjected, now fully awake. He wasn't entirely sure what Holden had meant to say, but he was certain it would have put him in an awkward position either way. It was early morning and the cave was still very dim, but Richard could still make out the amused (and perhaps more than a little curious) expression on Holden's face. He hoped the good doctor could also make out the expression of veiled warning to "drop it" that Richard wore on his own.
"Who is Trevor?" Camille asked, dropping her hand onto Richard's chest when she was finished hunting down itches. And if Richard had been worried that the doctor would continue to fixate on him and Camille, the subject of Trevor did seem to make Holden's attitude shift back to serious. It was only then that Richard noticed the signs of utter exhaustion on the other man's face.
"He's a young man here. Very sick," Richard supplied.
"And he's getting worse. I thought we could delay a little longer, but…his mother and I have been up all night with him. He's not taking water anymore and…the truth is we're losing him. I've explained to both him and his mother about the prospects of an operation and they understand the risks. They've agreed; I think at this point, they both know they have little option."
"An operation? Is it that serious?" Camille asked, now fully awake as well.
Richard and the doctor both answered "Yes" in unison. Then Holden added lowly, "If we're going to do this, I don't think we can put it off any longer. We need to send a team today."
Richard nodded and started to reposition himself so he could sit up slightly, feeling his legs finally untangle from Camille's as he pulled himself up.
Holden handed him a small sheet of paper and a pocket flashlight. "Here's the list you asked for."
"I asked for two," the inspector pointed out. Holden flipped the little page over, revealing a second list on the back. Richard used the flash light to discreetly examine both lists, conscious of the fact that most people around him would still be trying to sleep.
Camille wrapped her hands around Richard's bicep and leaned her cheek on his shoulder to read along with him. Presently, her brow furrowed. "Where do you plan to find all of this?"
"Honoré general," Richard mumbled in reply.
"You can't get all the way to Honoré general!" Camille said, bouncing her head off of her Richard Pillow at the sheer audacity of the thought. "It's at the far eastern side of the city! It would take you a week just to get there."
And a week back, Richard realized. He looked over at the doctor hesitantly. "Could he make it two weeks?"
Holden didn't look confident. "It's hard to say. I'd hope yes, but…"
"No, you aren't hearing me," Camille insisted. "You cannot make it. There are dozens of families of those things between here and there. And even if you manage to get all the way there, I can almost promise you that the hospital has already been looted. There is no guarantee that those things will even still be there."
Richard looked over at the doctor and they both had the same expression, the one that asked if all hope was lost. Richard turned the paper over and examined the list of "creative substitutes" for the medical supplies Holden needed. "And if I could get you only these?" Richard asked.
Holden turned his head to one side with a grimace. "It wouldn't be my preference. But if it's the best we can do, it's the best we can do."
"Hang on, you don't have an anesthetic here," Richard said, looking at the list. Holden reached out and pointed at one item. "Vodka or similar?" Richard asked incredulously. "The boy can't keep down water and you want to give him hard liquor?"
"You said to be creative and I said it wouldn't be ideal."
Richard sighed and clicked off the flashlight. He let his head fall back against the pillow and ran the back of his hand against his brow. "Alright," he said after some time. "Wake Ronnie."
"I'm coming with you," Holden asserted.
Richard almost snorted at the suggestion. "You most certainly are not."
"Nobody knows what to look for as well as I do."
"Not true," Richard said casually. "I have a list. Two in fact."
"Richard."
"Booker, we only have one basket, and I'm afraid you're a rather important egg...Wake Ronnie."
Altogether, Richard wanted to keep this team small. If Camille's assessment of the city's crypto population was accurate (and there was no reason for it not to be), then having a small team would give them a greater chance of moving through the city unnoticed. At the same time, he recalled the fight that had taken place between Edward Fry and Rudy Kent, and how both men had indicated a frustration with the dwindling food supplies. Richard decided, therefore, that he would take a larger team of six as far as the elementary school. Then he and Ronnie would peel off from the rest and carry on, deeper into the city in search of the medical supplies, while Fidel would lead the remaining three members back to the camp with the food.
Richard stood beside the armory, reloading all of the magazines with ammunition. Despite their best efforts at staying quiet, assembling a team of six people and preparing them for an arduous journey was not the easiest thing to keep "under wraps," and so Richard was unsurprised to hear a decent number of their population stirring to wakefulness behind him as he worked. He was, however, surprised when he saw a familiar figure step up beside him and start loading her weapon.
"Umm…" was the most articulate reaction he could manage, wondering if she was merely helping him, or if she meant that other thing.
"You have been up in this cave for three months while I have been down there," Camille said, her eyes never leaving the work of her hands. "You will need a guide."
That other thing, then.
"But…your ankle," he tried.
"Is fine," Camille finished. She obviously wasn't very impressed with the argument.
"Well…did Dr. Holden have a look at it?"
"I didn't need him to." For proof, Camille hopped on the damaged leg a few times, never flinching from the pain. Richard grimaced for her. "And one quick question," Camille said, turning back to her weapon and asking innocently, "Did you hear me ask permission?"
Richard's mouth bent into a contemplative frown and his eyes darted once to the side. "No," he answered.
Camille's rifle cocked a bullet into the chamber with a clean schinkt and she turned back to him. "Neither did I," she said and turned to exit the cave, leaving a somewhat befuddled Richard in her wake.
It was all coming back to him now: their constant battle of the wills, Camille's stubborn defiance and not misplaced sense of self assurance, her unwillingness to ask anyone else to do what she herself was too afraid to do, and her utter inability to follow orders when she thought they were stupid. The memory came back like a brash aftertaste as Richard suddenly remembered all of the headaches she had given him through the years. Apparently that much hadn't changed. And yet, Richard couldn't help the sly half smile that took up residence on his face as he quietly muttered, "Right," and followed her out of the cave.
Richard held a simple mission briefing out in front of the cave once everyone was assembled. The group had known about the food collecting mission at the primary school, but the part where he, Camille, and Ronnie would separate from the group for an extended mission into the heart of Honoré was news to them.
"Sir, are you sure that is the wisest decision?" Fidel asked, respectfully voicing the same concerns everyone else was thinking.
"It may in fact not be wise, but I'm afraid we no longer have a choice. Dr. Holden, Ronnie and I have been monitoring this situation for some time now, and the doctor has been very clear: Trevor's chances of survival dwindle with every passing day. Now, we've lost people before. We can't forget that," he said solemnly, watching as the mood darkened at his words. "But this isn't a crypto we're talking about. It's an illness, one we have the chance of fighting. Every time we have lost someone before, it has been quick, too quick for us to do anything about it. But this time, death is staring us in the face and for once, we have a chance to prevent it. And as long as we have that chance, I intend to take it. Wise decision or not." He looked over at Fidel at this last part, and was met with a resolute nod from the other man.
"In the meantime," Richard continued, "you might have noticed that our ranks have just grown considerably, which means we have a lot more mouths to feed. It's important that the rest of you bring back as much food as you can reasonably carry. With every person who sees that X and comes to join us on this little hill, hope is restored; I know you can feel it." Richard saw a chain of nods roll through the group at his words. "But it also makes the task of survival that much more challenging. If we're going to keep up with demand, you four will have to be successful today."
When his speech was concluded, everyone gathered up their equipment and started down the path towards the city, courage bolstered within them and a noble resolve in their steps.
"You've gotten better at that," Camille said, coming up to walk alongside Richard.
"At what?"
"The speeches."
"Richard is definitely the most articulate of the group, so we let him do most of the talking. He has a knack for inspiring people," Ronnie offered, coming up along Richard's other side.
"I remember a few of the speeches he used to give to the press when we would finish an important case, and none of them ever went as well as that," Camille observed, causing Richard to shoot her a slightly affronted look.
Ronnie just shrugged. "Ah well," the bloke sighed. "The end of the world changes everyone, I guess. You knew Richard before?"
"I'm standing right between you, you know," Richard noted incredulously.
Camille nodded with a, "Mhmm, we worked together." Then Richard had to flinch backward slightly when she shot out a hand in front of him and said, "I'm Camille."
Ronnie smiled and shook the hand that was offered to him. "I'm Ronnie, and I guess you could say I work with him now."
Richard looked down at the weird little seatbelt of salutation that had formed in front of him, and he reached up to forcefully break the two apart, just to reclaim his own personal space. "Yes, yes, good. Greetings all around. Now can you two please stop behaving as if I'm not even here?"
Ronnie straightened his neck to peer at Camille from around the back of Richard's head. "Did he always used to be this cranky?"
Camille giggled and said, "I suppose the end of the world doesn't change a person that much."
"Oh for Christ's, here," Richard said, scooting himself out from between them and forcing Camille to close the gap he left. He took her old spot on the outskirts of the trio and harrumphed, "Knock yourselves out."
Camille and Ronnie both laughed good-naturedly while Richard reached into his pocket to pull out a small compass he kept with him. He tried to ignore the other two, but that was made difficult to do when Camille reached out and took his hand.
That had been happening a lot lately, but the novelty of it still hadn't worn off. Richard's eyes dropped to the junction of their hands and something warm fluttered in his chest and heated his cheeks. His irritated attitude completely evaporated, he looked up and found her smiling at him. Camille altered her stride and purposefully bumped into his shoulder in a teasing nudge. And she chuckled a little bit, casually, like this was normal. But was this normal? Could Richard get used to her behaving this way? Reaching out and grabbing his hand in public? Wearing smiles that seemed to belong to him?
Then Richard looked past Camille and caught sight of Ronnie eyeing their hands with thinly restrained interest and surprise. The other man lifted his gaze and made eye contact with Richard, cocking an eyebrow at him questioningly. Instinctually, Richard flinched and released Camille's hand, bringing his own hand up to tap on the glass of the compass he had been holding. He mumbled something about not thinking it was working and, oh yes, there it goes, much better. And then he shoved his hand, still somewhat tingly from where Camille had held it, deep into his pocket.
He knew he would have to answer for that later, certainly to Ronnie and most likely to Camille too. And judging by the looks he had gotten that morning from Holden, there was almost no doubt that both men would corner him the first chance they got and interrogate him about this mysterious woman who seemed to have appeared from nowhere and who apparently liked a good cuddle.
Perhaps he had been wrong not to mention her before now. But the truth was, before yesterday, he had no way of knowing if she was even still alive, and if he was being honest, he would have to admit that avoiding talking about her (and even thinking about her) was the only way he had managed to maintain his sanity these last several months. There were just too many feelings happening all at once and Richard didn't have the emotional fluency to organize and process them adequately, so instead he piled all of those emotions into a mental suitcase and sat on it. It was the only way he really found to cope.
There was another reason why he hadn't wanted to think about Camille all that time. In those rare moments, when Richard would let that mental case inch open and thoughts of Camille would slip out, they would start to vaguely come together and form the edges of a feeling he hadn't felt since his university days, but which he thought he recognized all the same. And that realization was troubling and saddening in its own way. Because if it were in fact true, and he was only discovering it now, when she might be lost forever, then Richard honestly had no idea how to handle such a revelation, and the loss of his colleague and friend would have also meant the loss of something else too, something even more profound. It was much easier to simply keep that case closed.
And then the unthinkable had happened, and she had, somehow, been miraculously restored to him. Then, Richard made the shocking discovery that some of those unprocessed emotions didn't need processing anymore, because they were suddenly perfectly obvious to him. Namely, that he was glad to have her back, that he never wanted to be apart from her again, and that he could never hold her close enough.
But having her back also had a reverse side-effect, because seeing her again and interacting with her regularly brought back all sorts of memories and feelings from before the cryptos surfaced. Seeing her was a bit like having a portion of that old life restored. The old world. And Richard was suddenly and jarringly confronted with the Old Richard: a man who was awkward, repressed, and so very unsure of himself in virtually every non-investigatory way. While being apart from Camille, Richard had made certain progresses in the way he felt and thought about her, but seeing her now suddenly reminded him of where he left things with her, which is to say: Awkward, repressed, and so very unsure. It seemed wrong to just dive headlong into something without the appropriate approach, and so Richard wanted to be careful.
But he also wanted to hold her again tonight, and every night again afterward, and he wanted to be with her when he was awake too, keeping an eye on her to make sure she was alright. In fact, he was certain he never wanted to let her out of his sight again, if he could help it. Oh dear…he could see that becoming a little oppressive. He would have to be careful about that. But the point was, he had new feelings, and old feelings, and in balancing the two, New Richard would have to battle the Old Richard and try to shake himself out of old habits.
Resolute in that decision, Richard abruptly pulled his hand from his pocket and he took Camille's hand again, holding on tight.
Author's Note: A big thank you to everyone who has been reading and reviewing on the story so far. You know that I love hearing from you guys and every time I get an alert that one of you has left a review, I start grinning like an idiot. It really does make my day. So thank you.
Next chapter is a long one! So stay tuned for that!
