Authors note: Hey, im really sorry that i haven't posted in a while, ive had exams and i just haven't had the time. i mean mostly its because im a bit lazy, but those are reasons too.
Im trying to write longer chapters because then i feel as though the longer they are, the more i can tell you about the characters back stories and emotions. So this is a chapter that i really like because i feel like there's quite a bit of clace feels. I hope you enjoy it. I will update soon i promise.
Thank you for your reviews and please keep reviewing, i want to know what i am doing badly and well. :) xx
When I awake the next afternoon I feel… different. Not in a bad way or in a way that nags at me, like something I have to worry about. But something had definitely changed. Then it hits me. I am actually clean.
I throw back the quilt and sit up, stretching my arms over my head and arching my back. My skin feels tingly and soft, probably from the bath I had this morning, before I went to bed. Soaking in the tub had been hot, clean bliss. Never, not in the whole of life after the plague had I had a proper soak like that. Getting rained on or falling into a muddy, churning river doesn't count. And there is soap, something I have only dreamed about. Hodge makes his own soap from lye, sand, goats milk and honey, and I had used the strange yellow lump to scrub of the caked layers of grime and blood, until I could finally see the pale colour of my own skin.
I stand, taking in the small room. It had probably been a child's room once, if the cheery sun quilt and faded cloud wallpaper are any indication. For a moment, I wonder what became of the child whose room I am borrowing, but I quickly abandon that train of thought.
I gaze around and spot my clothes, lying clean and neatly folded atop the dresser. My katana lies on top of the pile, the dangerous cherry on top. I slip into my clothes and buckle the sword to my back, vowing not to be separated from it ever again, not even a couple of hours. Pulling a coat over my shoulders, I turn to leave when there is a knock at my door.
"Clary?" comes a voice from the other side. "Are you up yet? It's Jace."
"It's open," I call back.
The door creaks as it swings open, revealing a very clean, smiling Jace on the other side, holding a torch. He wears a white shirt and slightly baggy jeans, and his blonde hair feathers out over his eyes and collar, looking very soft and touchable. His gun, machete, hatchet and various other weapons are still in place, but he looks more relaxed than I've ever seen him.
"Oh, wow," Jace says quietly, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Look at that. There is actually girl under all the blood and dirt. Though you're a bit paler than I was expecting."
I snort and reply, "Seen you?"
He laughs good-naturedly. "Come on. I just got up, but I think Valentine and the others are down in the barn. They arrived a few hours after we went to sleep. At least that's what Martha said- after telling me she was washing my unmentionables and that I could have them back tomorrow." He wrinkles his nose adorably. "I think the old woman was coming on to me."
"Okay I'm just going to erase that image from my mind now." I give him a mock-horrified look as we start down the corridor. "For the record, the words old woman and unmentionables should never be in the same sentence."
He grins as we make our way down the stairs and through the shadowy halls of the ancient farmhouse. It truly is a monstrous old building, two stories tall, with high windows, wooden floors and a roof that has been patched over many, many times. But it serves it purpose I suppose; despite its ugly layout it keeps a roof over the people's heads.
"Where is everyone?" I ask as we hit the ground floor without running into any of the clans numerous members. Last night, Amatis had told me that almost a sixth of their small village had ended up living in this compound. I have only seen about 6 people around so far, and I suspect that there are many more, sleeping in their rooms. Where is everyone now? I hear banging noises coming from the kitchen, but other than that the old farmhouse is quiet.
Jace shrugs. "I think most everyone is outside, taking care of animals, finishing work in the fields, and making sure the wall is safe. Martha told me that they keep goats and sheep in the outhouses, and they take them into the fields at day."
"Jace?" a frail, reedy voice calls from the kitchen. "Is that you?"
Jace grimaces and ducks behind a wall, turning off the torch as a small white-haired lady comes out of the kitchen with a frying pan in one bony claw. She blinks when she sees me; thick glasses and toothless gums making her look like a lizard.
"Oh," she says, not able to hide her disappointment. "It's you. The girl."
"Clary." I provide.
"Yes of course," Martha wasn't even looking at me anymore, rheumy eyes scanning the candlelit room. "I thought I heard that boy, have you seen him?"
"No sorry." I say, trying not to look at Jace in the corner of my eye. I can see him shaking his head profusely. "I don't know where he is."
"Oh pity." Martha shakes her head and sighs. "He must be in the barn with the others. Such a handsome lad that one. Don't you think he would make a wonderful husband?"
"Yeah." I shift uncomfortable and feel myself blush at Jace's grin.
"Well if you see him, let him know that I made him a special pie. Boys like pie. Dinner will be ready in an hour."
"I will," I mutter as she vanishes back into the kitchen. I glance at Jace, hoping he hadn't picked up on my unease. He shrugs, and I raise an eyebrow.
"The mighty hunter," I quip as we sneak out the back door, escaping into the yard. "He can take down vicious zombies and rampaging boars, but one old lady can make him flee in terror."
"One scary old lady," he corrects me, looking relieved to be out of the house. "You don't see the way she looks at me- like she wants to eat me alive. And she told me when I got up, she said-you're so cute I could put you in a pie. Tell me that is not the most terrifying thing you have ever heard." His voice climes a few octaves, turning shrill and breathy. "Today for dessert, we have apple pie, blueberry pie and Jace pie."
We laugh together, our voices bouncing off of the farmhouse walls.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," Jace says, his face and voice turning serious. "I shouldn't have pried into your personal life. I was just worried about you."
I sigh in response and look at my feet, trying to decide what to say. "Thank you, and I'm sorry that I overreacted. I just… I guess I just don't like talking about my past, or thinking about it either to be honest. I don't mean to exclude you from anything, it's not that I don't trust you it's just…"
And then I freeze. Because I can't think of a reason to not tell Jace other than one I can't say out loud. I can't tell Jace because then he will hate me. "I just can't tell you certain things. I am not a nice person."
"I don't care." Jace says, kicking the ground boyishly. "Being nice doesn't keep you alive, not in a world like this, being nice doesn't kill zombies, or feed the kids, or get us water. Being nice doesn't get you anywhere, not anymore. So I am glad that you are not nice, because I… we need you. You're no use to me dead." We have stopped walking by now and he is looking at me. His golden eyes are dancing passionately as he talks and I think I realise why everyone likes him, why Alec was in love with him. He is hard not to love.
"Simon was my best friend." I blurt out. "He and I escaped with my mother's ex-boyfriend. We left New York in Luke's van and tried to run, but we didn't get very far. Something happened to them, and it was my fault."
"What about your mum?" Jace asks me tentatively. He looks down at me, his eyes gentle and sad; his hand is on my arm comfortingly.
"I don't know," I reply, because it's the truth. "I don't know where my mum is; have no idea in fact. But knowing this world, she is probably dead; I accepted that a long time ago. She wasn't with us when the world went to shit and so she wasn't with us when we tried to escape." I shrug, batting my eyelids methodically to stop from crying.
"There was nothing you could have done about that. It's not like you could have gone looking for her, everywhere was panic, don't beat yourself up about it. And who knows, maybe she is alive- stranger things have happened."
"Maybe," I say, although I am not convinced by his words. We have arrived at the barn and, stepping inside, the smell of meat stew fills our noses welcomingly. We both stand and breath it all in, I thank my lucky stars that we found this place and that generous people still exist.
I follow Jace over to where Valentine and Amatis stand. Amatis' back is to us but she turns when she hears us coming. Her facial expression is very odd, a mixture between sadness and shock. Valentine stands as stiffly as ever beside her. His face is cold and void of any expression but his body is rigid and painfully straight, as if he has been flattened out.
"You didn't tell me that the leader of your group was Valentine Morgenstern." Amatis' voice sounds pained and hollow. Her eyes are fuelled with anger.
"Do you two know each other?" I ask.
"Oh for sure we know each other, haven't seen the git in years though." Amatis replies, threading her hand through her hair.
"We met a very long time ago, when I was dating her brother's best friend." Valentine remarks coldly.
I freeze when Valentine says the word 'dating'. I can't imagine such a strange and cold man could ever love anyone, or be loved in that way. I'm not even sure if Jace loves him and Jace is his adopted son. I wonder if Valentines ex-girlfriend (it makes me queasy even thinking about him in a relationship) is still alive. I wonder why they broke up, if it was before or after the plague, and I wonder what she was like. Maybe this woman, Valentines ex-girlfriend and Amatis' brothers best friend is the reason why he is as cold as he is today; maybe this woman (or possibly man if that's the way he swings) made him mean.
From Jace's shocked expression it's not hard to tell that this is news to him as well.
"Speaking of your brother, where is he" Valentine asks poisonously.
"I'm afraid you just missed him," Amatis sighed and her complexion softened. "He's not the same man as he was when you knew him. He's been through a lot, suffered more than most. These past couple of years just seemed to get harder and harder for him; he spent most of the time in his room, barely ate anything. The poor man was slowly going insane, locked up in that room of his.
He went on like that for a long time, until one day he came down to breakfast and announced that he had had enough of his room and was going on a quest to find some mystical land without any zombies."
Both valentines and Jace's heads snapped up. Their eyes seemed to gleam with excitement, and maybe even hunger- longing. Could this land that Amatis' brother was in search of be…? Utopia?
"Could you tell us anything else about this 'mystical land'?" Jace asked carefully. Amatis looked at him pityingly.
"Oh child, it doesn't exist- just the imaginations of a mad man based on rumors. Don't be getting your hopes up."
"Answer his question woman." Amatis' eyes narrowed and she shot Valentine a look of pure hatred. Clearly they were not the best of friends.
"Well since you asked so nicely," she said her voice oozing icy sarcasm, "he heard about it from a traveler who came through about a month ago. The man said that he had come from a village nearby and after their village got rampaged by the walkers they all headed to a place they referred to as The Promise Lands. No one listened to the man; we all passed it off as hopeless gossip. But my brother…- he always was one for a good story. He gobbled it up. Claiming he was going in search for it, he left a week after. Haven't heard from Luke since." She looked a bit sad as she said that, and her shoulders slouched. We all looked away as she sheepishly wiped her damp eyes.
"He might not be dead," I said, trying to comfort her, "Luke could just be…" I trailed off, not knowing what to say. And then I realised what I had just said. Luke. My breath caught in my thought. Could it be? No, there's no way that Amatis' brother and my Luke are the same person.
I look at Amatis again. At her sharp features, the colour of her eyes. I think I finally know why she looked so familiar. Why her eyes gave me a sense of Deja vu. Because her eyes, those grey-blue orbs, are the same as Luke's. She is Luke's sister.
I gasp. My heart starts beating really fast. My breaths come out as pants. My head is a whirl wind of thoughts, of emotions. All at once I feel happy, sad, scared, hopeful, guilty, but most of all relieved. Because this means that Luke is alive. This means that all those years ago when I left him and Simon… I didn't kill him.
"Luke… isn't dead," I exclaim. I try to laugh but it turns into a sob and suddenly I am crying. Torrents of tears cascade from my eyes and I run outside, I can't let them see me cry, not like this.
I run until my legs can't run anymore and then I sink into the grass behind the main building. My sobs rack my body, and I shiver and shake. I cry for Luke, I cry for Simon, I cry for my mum. I cry for everybody that I have ever left behind. I cry for the group I have found. I cry that max and the twins have to grow up in this terrifying world. I cry that they don't have any parents, that they are alone. And finally I cry for myself. My sobs are selfish, loud and self-indulgent but I need them. I haven't cried in so long that it feels as if I am never going to stop.
Jace finds me as my sobs begin to run out. He doesn't say anything, he just sits next to me and I feel his body heat mingle with mine. I rest my head on his shoulder and he grabs on to my hand, holding it in his. We sit like that until the sun has gone down and the stars come out.
