Chapter 4
I wake up. She's there, looming over me, her face inches from my own. I scream, my body sits bolt upright, clashing my forehead with hers. I roll off the couch on which I've been sleeping, and back away from my intruder. She is slightly taller than me, with a muscular figure and trim brown hair. Her green eyes are intense, confident but also with a detectable amount of fear. Instinctively I reach for the shotgun underneath the couch, however she whips out a handgun from her side and then we're trained on each other in a grand stalemate.
"You're not taking me anywhere," I say.
"Why would I take you anywhere, Soul? The sooner you're dead the better," She snarls, clicking the safety off on her gun.
"I'm not a Soul."
"Prove it."
"You first. You're my guest, after all," I remark.
"This is my town. You're my guest in here," she snaps.
There are two physical ways of identifying a Soul. One is the blue ring that encompasses the eyes, which is most common in hosts, however in some cases the ring is faded, even not apparent, which occur in a person with sight impairment. A sure way of telling is to check the side of the neck to check for the incision where the Soul was transferred, and massage the area to draw the Soul closer to the skin surface.
I pull my hair to one side to expose my neck, however keep the shotgun trained on the girl. She moves at lightening speed, knocking the gun easily from my grasp and tackling me to the ground. Before I can react she has me pinned with her full body weight against me. I struggle, but my any movement I make is useless.
Embarrassingly I cannot help but feel the warmth of her stomach and pressure of her breasts against my chest, which sends off little sparks inside my skin. All the sudden danger has brought on excitement. She continues to stare me directly in the face, her green eyes close enough for me to see my own reflection in them. But the emotion behind them draws me away from it, and also...have the pupils dilated? Am I crazy enough to have imagined it?
With her left hand she caresses the side of my neck, trying to draw the imaginary Soul from within. But surely if I was a host, wouldn't the Soul know if my body was under stress? The hell do I know.
Her touch though. It is soft, unlike the hardened look in her eyes, the masculine gait of her jaw. Oh God, could I be any crazier? I hadn't taken this much notice of human beings since dad left. Or even girls. There was the occaisional boy, but never a girl.
Her breath on my face and neck is not helping me regain my train of rational thought either. We lay like this for what seems like minutes, and neither of us speaks a word.
"You're not a Soul," She says finally, getting off me, but keeps her gun raised.
"No," I reply, slowly standing up.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I was looking for a place to hide," I answer.
"This is the wrong place to hide."
"Where else was I supposed to go?"
"There's a settlement North of here."
I explain, "I came from the North."
The girl frowns.
"Is it just you?"
I nod.
"I'm assuming it was a raid."
"Yes," I reply.
"I destroyed that car of yours. They can track them y'know."
A dual wave of dread and relief washes over me. Her voice is very matter-of-fact, and her language cagey.
"What's your name?"
"Jennifer," I answer. "What's yours?"
"Nic."
"How'd you find me?" I ask.
"I have tabs on the water system. I can tell the activity going on in every house in this town."
Holy shit.
"And because they were tracking your car into my town, I had to set off a few of my traps."
Traps? She goes out of her way to catch Souls? Other human survivors? Is she a hunter? Suddenly the slight comfort of being in the company of another normal human being dissipates. At least with Soul's their intentions are predictable. Humans are incalcuable. What if she has the whole town rigged? What if I had triggered one of her traps?
"Is it just you?"
"Yes."
"Actually, no. It's not just her," a new voice enters the house, answering to a young adult man, tall and lean, with dark curly hair.
"For fuck sake Stephan, I told you to wait back at camp. I can handle this myself."
The boy ignores her. "Don't you know it's rude not to introduce me to your new friends, Nicky?" His colgate-white smile widens further, crinkling the skin around his eyes.
"I don't have to introduce you to anybody, Stephan. And I told you never to call me by that name."
"Anyway, what would you have done if she was a Soul?"
"I would have killed her," Nic replies bluntly.
"Sure, sure you would have. That's why Dan sent me."
"Well Dan doesn't understand anything," Nic snaps, keeping her gunsights still trained on me.
"You want me to tell him you said that?" the boy Stephan warns.
Nic disregards him. There seems to be a sort of brother-sister relationship between them. The shotgun lies on the floor behind me - I could quickly turn, snatch it and take cover behind the arm of the couch - no, I realise that's impossible, as long as her gun is still pointed in my direction.
"What d'you plan to do with this one then, Rebecca Francis?"
Nic turns back to face him. "Rebecca who?"
If I back slowly enough for them not to notice...
While they continue to argue, I manage to shuffle backward a few centimeters at a time, nearing the shoulder strap of the shotgun. Then I am within arm's reach.
"...don't know what to do with her." Nic says.
As fast as I can, I pluck the gun off the ground and duck behind the couch. No gunshot.
Only a shout from the girl, "Shit! See what you did, you fuckwit?!"
I check the chamber. Loaded. The end of the shotgun is protruding from behind the arm of the couch. I need to move. The kitchen bench nearby is a suitable means of cover. I fire a round into the air, splintering the wood of the ceiling. While they are distracted by the sudden noise, I dive behind the kitchen counter.
"There are two of us. You're outnumbered, Jennifer," Nic says.
I know all too well that she is just as scared as I am, and that she is only trying to get me to surrender.
"Fuck you, bitch," I snarl, pumping another round into the ceiling.
"Christ!" The boy shouts, the bemusement clear in his voice. "How did you get her so pissed?"
"Shut up, Stephan."
An edgy silence ensues. Flakes of timber float gently to the ground. The smell of gunpowder fills the room.
"Listen," Nic says, her voice calmer, coming from somewhere behind the couch. "We don't want to hurt you."
Bullshit, a voice screams.
Give them a chance. Let them explain themselves, Mum says.
I'll hear them out first. Then I'll make a decision from there.
"What do you want?" I say.
"Tell you what. We have an ample supply of food, water, everything you need to survive. I could find you a place in our ranks, where you can work in exchange for a place to stay. And protection from the Souls and hunters."
"That's what the last camp promised," I say.
"Our camp is heavily fortified, reinforced by military-grade weaponry and defense systems. One of the strongest in the country - perhaps the strongest."
I am hesitant.
"I'll show you."
I slowly peer over the edge of the counter. Nic and Stephan are half-emerged from the end of the couch. Nic's gun is still clutched in her hand, but lowered at her hip. I notice she is the only one with a weapon. Stephan isn't carrying anything. What would he do if Nic was in trouble, if I happened to be a Soul or hunter and I'd overpowered her? He looks strong, but in a gun or knife fight, I'm fairly sure he wouldn't stand a chance.
"They don't accept foreign guns. Or any foreign items. They could be tagged."
"No," I answer.
She gives a heavy sigh.
"Fine, you can keep your weapon - until we reach the camp. I'm sure we can have them checked over."
I take her hand.
"Okay, deal."