Chapter Four
Dual Sided
A hot heavy sun hung in the sky. It poured in through the open mesh of the blue and silver tent. Humidity already tainted the air as Laini rose from her cot. A sheen coated her skin. The pungency of her armpits soured her nostrils.
She should have taken that bath like Shane suggested.
Her body ached as she rose to standing. The pain sourced at the low end of her back.
The stupid cot was slumped in the center from many nights of two bodies cuddled together. It no longer supported them adequately to prevent mild soreness when they arose.
She tossed on one of Shane's old high school football t-shirts over the soaked through bra. As bits of its outline made specks of dampness on the shirt, she opted for a freer style. The bra was thrown into the exiled corner – clothes in dire need of soaking and soap and maybe decontamination with a blow torch.
Silky shiny new pants taunted her with their intact store tags. They were stretchy. However, their material felt durable, thicker than usual stretch pants.
They were smooth against her legs as she pulled them up. The fabric clung to every curve of her frame. It tucked in the slight pudge at her belly with the taut hold of the waist band. All in all, they were leggings that paraded as hiking pants, with external cargo pockets and khaki color. It contrasted the black, moisture-wicking shirt of Shane's which typically clung to his chest and arms that looked rather relaxed on her person. Baggy and billowed out in unflattering light.
She tied away the excess of the shirt, twisting and tucking it at the center of her bellybutton. Soft nubs of her nipples protruded the fabric.
Andrea said we couldn't cling to the old-world thinking. Laini didn't see why it couldn't apply to women's nipples, too.
The camp was busy with their chore list. Late morning scrambles. Shane's green jeep was gone. It was used as a transport for water.
Lori was bent over the tub with her hands in water. Scrubbing away.
She caught a glance at Laini's emergence from the tent. "We didn't wait."
Her nose wrinkled. The first voice she liked to hear in the morning was someone not so…Lori.
"I didn't ask you to," she retorted as she brushed by Lori's wash station.
A pair of gentle hands touched Laini's arm with an even gentler voice. "Don't worry. I saved some for you. It's just in the pot there."
The brunette bitch continued her glare. "If you sleep late, you have to do your own dishes."
The bottom scraping of stew was the best part. It was full of the heavy bits. Loaded with the added vegetables and small shreds of meat. The serving spoon filled half up.
"It's a spoon and a bowl. I think I can manage."
They were sure not to betray the intention of their words with a harsh tone. Lori knew how to hide her statements in the guise of an indifferent sound. It fooled most of them. Even Rick, at times. It only helped Laini's mood to give the woman a small taste of her own condescending medicine in front of others so it was hidden in the same tone as Lori's.
Carol and Sophia were near. Neither lifted their gaze to observe the actual cat fight. They were busy with their tasks, unbothered with the conversation, like it was discussion of the weather. Little Soph was able to do basic mending with a bit of thread and needle. Her hands held one of her mother's shirts, just a small enough tear at the collar.
"Are you sure? You don't need Shane to hold your hand." Lori snipped.
The sting of hot stew on her tongue forced her voice quiet. She swallowed the chunk of meat with great effort.
Smug pride toyed with Lori's lips. Decidedly she thought she'd come out on top.
Feminism spoke to women supporting women. They were not competition or enemies to other women's success. That was a product of patriarchy conditioned to their minds.
Feminism, of course, forgot to address how to respond to the ones who bought into the conditioning.
Laini was taught violence was a sound option when words were only doing a thumbtacks job when a sword was needed. But violence in and of itself was different in every form.
She did not need to eliminate Lori in her life; that would never happen. The only thing needed done was proof that Shane chose which place Lori was in, and it was dead last.
"I only hold his hand to keep it from roaming." She flashed a quick wink before she turned to Carol. "The man's too bold to be trusted in the middle of camp."
The woman gave a small laugh. Her cheeks flared red with a blush.
Her daughter beside her did not know what to think. She glanced upward at Carol with question. It had Carol's cheeks flaring brighter. "When you're older," she told her.
There was a bit of life that peaked out time to time. Carol forgot to be scared. Her eyes ignited with a sparkle, like bits of her old self coming out to play.
Lori finished her scrubbing. She carried the tub out to the edge of camp to toss the dirty water into the grass.
"Camp's busy this morning," Laini commented.
A strange rush sparked behind their heels.
Motions of Carol's hands slowed as she, too, looked around. "Rick's decided to go back to fetch Merle."
The spoon went slack between Laini's fingers. It clanked against the bowl's bottom in a loud commotion.
"They're going back." She shook her head in disbelief.
"Daryl came back from his hunt early this morning," Carol stated.
That statement needed no further explanation.
Laini caught sight of a bobbing red cap through camp. She abandoned her breakfast to bounce after it until the man attached came into sight. "Glenn."
He shoved something in his backpack.
"The place is overrun. You said so yourself. They can't possibly think they'll be able to get through to him."
Glenn shrugged. "I don't know. We might."
"We?" She scoffed. "You're going with them? That's insane."
"They'll be lost without me."
"What happens when you get lost Glenn? What happens when a fool's errand becomes an all-out mistake?" Her arms cinched tight against her chest. She tried to hold herself in from feeling too upset. "Who else agreed to do this?"
He sighed. "Rick. Daryl, of course. And T."
"T-Dog's going?"
All these men were insane.
"He's the reason Merle's up there in the first place," Glenn reasoned. The corner of his mouth sank. "We've got to try."
"Please tell me Shane didn't support this nonsense."
"No. He didn't say outright, but he talked to Rick and Lori a good long while. It didn't look good."
She released a pent-up breath. "Glad to see someone's got some sense in this camp."
The nervous energy was palpable. It lived inside their chests, blown through their lips and into the nose of the next person.
A cloud of dust tore up the road. The green vehicle slammed to a halt.
Daryl paced in front of the car like a caged tiger. The crossbow at his side swayed back and forth with his every motion. Words flew out of his mouth that should have been a long angry hiss.
A caged animal was a dangerous one.
Her eyes were narrowed. She glanced back at Glenn. "Not too late to stay behind."
His frowned deepened.
Back and forth their eyes followed the man watching the frustration build inside him.
Shane emerged. He went to the back and opened the hatch. Camp had an assortment of buckets, plastic jugs and bottles they used to collect water. Two metal buckets with long handles were the easiest. He unloaded them first.
Daryl let him pass without a word.
"We can't expect him to be happy about it," Glenn said. "His brother might be dead."
Her resolve dropped. As did the tension in her arms, fallen slack at her sides as she watched the man continue to pace.
Family. What she wouldn't do to find her own brother. She'd leave Shane in an instant if she caught word of their survival.
Through a clenched jaw, she gulped. "Yeah. You're right." The lens clicked away from her eyes. Daryl's anger faded to hurt, anxiety, fear. The want to be whole in a broken place. "We'd all do the same if it was us."
The two went to the Jeep to finish unloading the rest of the water. It still had to be sanitized.
She dropped a plastic jug down at Carol's fire. When she snapped back to standing, a strong gaze on Shane's face absorbed the scene before him with twisted, devious glinted eyes. Hunger spread through their darkness. They glanced down at her nipples and exposed mid-riff more than once.
A small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She teasingly lifted her brows in a challenge.
"Ah. God. These are heavy." Glenn's voice broke the air.
Their eyes dropped back to their reality.
"I'll get the rest," Shane stated.
Laini blinked. "I'll help."
She led the way to the back hatch. The other containers were farther inside, having her bent over the back bumper as she reached for their handles.
Shane was back behind her in an instant.
"Why didn't you wake me this morning? I felt like a slacker sleeping in so late."
A palm cupped her ass as he leaned and pulled another bottle closer. "I tried. You were out cold," he answered. "I thought I'd broke ya."
Her mouth moved to a grin. He had a way of making her smile even when she didn't want to.
She pulled herself up. "You'll have to try a lot harder to do that."
Their bodies were flush straight. Her chest against his. Eyes stared up into coal dark eyes shaded in the light.
A delicious smirk curled the corner of his mouth; it filled her with delirious satisfaction to render the man speechless.
It pushed her further. "Unless you've got some moves I don't know about." She popped out her hip. "Holdin' out on me there, Shane?"
One sweep of his arm captured both her wrists in his long grasp and stretched them behind her back, leaving him in total control, and with the guidance of his hips against hers, he had her ass pressed into the back of the vehicle with no escape. Their bodies aligned. Heat of their lonely spaces muddled together through their pants.
Hardness dug through the willing fabric of leggings to the soft flesh below its cover. He made a point to thrust it against her and hold the rest of her in place.
"I'm more than a one trick pony." Swollen pink lips pressed into hers with biting fury. He pulled back for a ragged breath. "Don't forget that."
Once the hold of her arms was released, she slid off the tailgate. Her utility boots struck up matching clouds of dust.
She brushed debris from the back of her new pants as he collected the last few containers in his arms.
The sound of the cube van's back door opened clinked through the air. It was loud. Shane glanced over in acknowledgement, rather tense at the echoing through the distance.
He was not in his usual teasing mood. A rather fixed rigidness was through his face. Animation of his eyes and mouth were stretched thin with a white-knuckled hold on the water containers.
Delaney's heart fell.
"You aren't going to Atlanta?" Her motions kept in sync as to deflect from the inquiry. Part of her had to know if it was because of her that he stayed behind rather than go where he should.
"No." His arm reached above his head. "Someone's got to protect the camp. All we've built."
She kept her gaze out of his, deflecting to the height of the rustling tree leaves above their heads. "Rick disagrees?"
It was a fine line to walk between question and answer. There was little power to be found when words threatened him.
For all that he had done for her, objectivity mattered still. He was a man. A strong man.
Truth had to remain focused. Shane could turn. In an instant, their bond could sour and become dangerous.
Shane slammed the tailgate closed. The vehicle responded with a light bounce. "He's holding onto who he was."
"His morals?"
His lips pushed together and fell to a frown. "The world's different. We have to be. To survive. And I don't think one person outweighs the group. It definitely doesn't outweigh his family, his son. The people who matter most." He shook his head. "He's risking them all for a man who wouldn't save a drowning baby."
"Maybe you should go," she said softly. "Make sure he makes it back."
The man was many things, and loyal to his best friend was the main one. If he felt like Rick wouldn't come back, how there was even hesitation to go was beyond her.
They were best friends from their childhood. One never without the other. Football, the academy, the sheriffs department. None of their life was free of their other half.
Back when they met, Shane wouldn't hesitate to jump into a burning building if Rick went, too. Not a single thought of himself, only that if Rick was there, Shane should be.
"If he wants to get his ass eaten for Merle, that's on him. He's not the only one with obligations."
And with that, Shane walked away. He carried the last few containers to the fire where one of the huge buckets had been dumped in a pot to boil with Carol watching carefully over it.
Glenn stood near the cube van. His hands rested on both straps of his backpack. The red cap was pulled down tight on his head. A building strength through the anxiety that shuffled his feet.
The cube van was alive with noise. Daryl's things were tossed inside. Kicking or shuffling things around. It echoed out the back.
T approached not long after. His shoulder brushed hers. "Y'all keep an eye out for them, won't you Delaney?"
She nodded.
"Marco's leg has been actin' up again." He tossed his bag into the back of the van. "Jacqui knows to keep a watch, but in case she's busy…"
"We won't let him go without."
Although it took some prodding – and the urgent honking of the van at Daryl's fist – to pull Rick from his daze and bring him to the duty he'd assigned himself. The man wore a full sheriff's uniform. A bronze badge sat pinned at his chest. It glinted. Like it'd just be shined. The tips of his pointed cowboy boots, too, reflected a fair bit of light as he marched through the grass and rock.
His son and Lori followed behind. Neither looked too proud to watch him ready to leave.
As much as the woman was proud and indifferent, the slightest quiver was at her mouth which she kept behind her hand. Her eyes blared bright, soft and amber.
A boy lingered in the midst of the departure with an overturned mouth. He watched as part of his family was yet again torn apart, uncertain if the piece would return or be left a broken remnant out there somewhere like the rest of them.
All parts of their souls were broken. Families torn apart and dismembered. Questions that would never be answered a constant threat in their minds.
Rick, Lori and Carl were one of the few who did not have that agony. They knew it as they'd thought Rick was lost in the beginning, but their family was reunited in a way that bordered miraculous. How could they ever think to risk it? That feeling. It tortured everyone else. Why would they tempt such a fate?
Her feet marched up to the back of that van. She stared up at the man above her. One that she'd only met a month before the outbreak with a very reserved understanding to the depths of his relationship to Shane. Something, in part, she knew would forever be mystery to her.
"I should be goin' instead of you," she said.
The man knelt down so bring his face nearer. "How do you reckon?"
"The rest of us don't have kids waiting for us to come back." Her eyes glanced over her shoulder. A brown-haired boy held onto his mother's hand with eyes wide enough to drown in. "Merle should be released. I know that. But you don't have to be the one to do it. I can just as easily ride in with these guys."
He reached his side where a brown leather holster sat. The revolver pulled from its hold was produced on his flat palm out to her. "You know how to use one of these?"
"No."
Rick gave a polite smile. He was about to open his mouth when his eyes caught sight of something in the distance. It killed the words on his tongue before they escaped.
"I appreciate the offer, but I really should be going," he stated.
Just then, Shane approached. A hand rested at her lower back. "Not trying to rally more into this suicide mission, are you?"
"No." The sheriff shook his head.
She sucked her teeth. "I'll go then. Five is better than four."
A cross look shot from Shane to Rick accusing of just what he'd said he hadn't done.
"You best be on your way, man," Shane told him.
Daryl blared the horn. "Let's go!" He shouted.
Rick rose to his feet. The hat readjusted deeper on his head.
"I can make the choice, can't I? I want to go." Her voice raised ever so slight.
"Hell no," Shane said.
"It is every man's decision," Rick reasoned.
Shane shook his head. A deepening scowl on his lips. "If you think I'm going to stand here while you let her go off to that city, unprotected -."
"I won't be unprotected," she pointed out. "I'll take a knife."
Tension grew thick. Their voices were raising. Daryl's impatience was surmounting to a higher tone, too.
All too soon, it'd grow to uncomfortable levels.
"She says she wants to go. Everyone has to make their own choice."
An arm wrapped tight around her waist. It pulled her back. Shane's strength, even a single arm, was difficult to fight against. "Go on. Get out of here, man."
He kept dragging. He dragged her past the crowd of onlookers by the road, the send off for maybe the last time for their friends, until they were deeper in camp.
She finally found footing with her nails and dug into Shane's arm.
He released a painful hiss. The hold dropped away from her.
"Listen, I -."
Laini slapped his chest. It stung the tips of her fingers as they dragged across the muscle.
Her jaw clenched. "You don't own me, Shane Walsh. Fuck you. I'm not going to be some woman you can push around. Go find Ed. Ask him if he'll loan you his."
She stormed away. Her feet madly crunched against the ground. It wasn't until the point of her ankles taking sharp pains on either side that she stopped.
There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape to.
The world was a small, empty place for a single woman to be. No safe corner. No friends there to support her or sisters to wrap her in hugs. No place that tears did not feel wasted.
It would continue to feel like an endless stretch of agony and despair. How could a sun rise on a glittering lake seem as beautiful when the beaches were filled with rotten corpses, strewn remains of animals and people so blessed to be truly dead, or the changing of seasons warm up the soul with leaves of golden yellow or vibrant red when it only meant the harder the life would become in the cooler months? A life was wasted. A life that had so much promise to be an adventure turned to nothing but ash. For what did death mean in a world that only aided its descent?
Laini settled on her knees in the long grass. Awash with whatever coursed through her veins – despair, hopelessness, anger, sorrow?
Her hands reached out to the still hanging tin cans. The wind moved their bare metal bodies ever so slight. Not even a sound echoed from inside their bellies.
Did a thin little line matter? Would it be all that stood in the way of their survival or end? It was nothing but a strand, a slender rope or twine, with all the bottles the camp could spare. They were filled with rocks and pieces of metal and whatever else was found.
It had only a single job. Alert. It would not keep them safe. Only give them time.
Time.
That was the all-determining thing. The world before was absorbed with time. Time was allotted. There was only so much to succeed. The ticking down, never ending pressure of dwindling time to live the way they wanted before time made a mockery of them.
She sucked in a deep breath and let it resonate with the pinky flesh of her lungs. It sank to the bottom of her chest. Every ounce of her capacity filled.
As she released her breath, she thought of Quinnie, her younger sister. She pictured Quinn at that same perimeter line in camp with the question of letting it matter or not. Her little hands touching the wire. A wire that held everyone's lives in balance.
Her heart bled. There was no question in Laini's mind. Quinn could not give up hope. She could not give in to the fears of the world just to make it easier to be stamped out.
Heat in her body lessened. The burning flare of embarrassment and anger smolder with the wave of reality. Emotions lowered to their depths once more, not so swimmingly flooded in her head.
That perimeter line mattered. It made all the difference.
She set to work. Dale loaned her a pair of tin snips. There were some discarded cans from Carol offered up, which Laini was grateful for.
Little bits of tin and aluminum cans were created. Their sharp edges jabbed at the skin of her palms before they were sprinkled inside the hanging bottles of the line. She shook each can, bottle and container until she was satisfied the noise was enough to catch the camp's attention.
Down the line, over and over she snipped as many as she could until the material ran out.
It was interesting that Jim had not come by that time. The man tended the line every day.
On the way back to the RV, there was no sign of Jim. She glanced at the cars, the firewood stack, even the quarry where a little boat floated atop the blue surface. There were people on the rocky beach washing over the camp's laundry. Bits of soap muddled the colors of the water.
She spied Shane over the ledge. He was submerged in the water. A little brown head floated across from the man. Carl. They splashed in the water with Lori near the edge. She could tell by the limp brown hair blowing back behind her shoulders. Laini stepped quickly away.
"Delaney. Are you alright?" Dale popped his head over the side of the RV.
"Fine and dandy," she answered.
It was not convincing herself, much less him.
He flexed his brow. "You know no one wanted you to go to fetch Merle. It wasn't just Shane." He paused as she replaced his tin snips with his other tools. "To send people in after the man is just ridiculous. He's a person, but a man reaps what he sows."
"There's a child here who depends on one of those men. It matters if he comes back or not."
A curious look overtook the man's eyes. "Rick?" It took a minute as he absorbed the information after the deflection – practical confirmation – of her gaze. "You wanted to go to protect Rick."
"I tried to get him to stay," she admitted. "He wouldn't."
The man hurried down the faded chrome ladder of his motorhome to face her level. His face twisted with bazar bafflement. "Why would you want to go in his place? He's more to offer there than here."
She sighed. "I already said. He's got a son. A family that has been kept together through this. It's wrong to throw it away."
"Morales went to the city and left behind his children. You didn't step in then."
Laini blinked.
There was no conscription into joining the group in Atlanta before. It was volunteers to restock camp. Glenn was in the lead. He gave a very sound plan as to how they would move, where they would go, what they would grab. No one expected things to go as bad as they did.
"The danger is still the same," Dale pointed out. "It's the same place. Same everything. But, you wanted Rick to stay."
There was an allusion in his tone.
She crossed her arms and shifted. "What's your point?"
"You're mad at Shane for stopping you, but he's the one you were doing it for. You didn't want him to lose Rick."
A scoff punctured the air between them. Her eyes shifted away.
"Shane's a grown man. He doesn't need anyone." She kicked the rocks under foot.
"Ah, ah. But he does. I think you know that. He's the type of man that needs to need someone." Dale's hand reached back and gripped the ladder. "The time for him to outgrow his best friend is coming. In fact, I think it's already started."
A shiver went down her spine. She held herself tighter.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She knew what that meant. The words written on her heart memorized the truth as it was inscribed day by day. It'd already started.
The man said nothing more on the matter. He only gave a knowing gaze before he shimmied back up to the roof for a higher vantage point of lookout. The rifle and binoculars were permanent accessories to his person. Even though it was supposed to be done in shifts, the man took it upon himself to always have eyes to the horizon in defense.
Something about him said there were people who once needed his protection and didn't receive it. Now it was burned into his heart to never stop looking.
The topic of Shane was resigned to the question of other things. She wanted to know where Jim had went off to. "I mended the line all morning and he didn't come out."
"Probably thought you had it handled," Dale answered.
Her mind disliked that suggestion.
She marched off in search of firewood. It was a job that needed tending constantly. Between sanitizing water and cooking and general heat, camp used quite a bit.
The easy pieces were already run through, picked clean. Easy gathered wood laid farther out from camp.
Her feet crunched on the gravel. It was melodic.
The state park was densely populated with trees of every species. They changed like fluid through the canopy. Some were vibrant and green. Where others were deeper, dull green leaves. Few were pine trees. Eastern white pines dropped their cones on the floor below with their discarded needles. Very little undergrowth survived near those.
A small bundle of fallen branches soon populated her arms. They were thin but better than kindling. She emerged from the shade of the trees to turn back to camp when she heard a strange shlunk sound. It moved in motion. Not constant, but still consistent.
Laini followed it through a large gully of overgrown weeds. They battled with their talon-like blades, scratching and piercing the length of her arms, as she walked through their thickness until they lost their power and became lost to a short clover meadow. Trees were on either side in a circle, only open the one side she trekked through.
Through the meadow there were heaps of soil. They were scattered about.
There was a man in the midst of the chaos. Digging. The shovel slid through the ground with a shlunk.
His trucker hat was kept low on his face, but she recognized it as Jim. No one had noticed he slipped away. It must have been early in the morning to have dug so many holes.
She traversed the speckled landscape. Her feet rounded each one, making sure to leave the dirt undisturbed.
The man did not acknowledge her approach. If he had not noticed or made the choice, she was not sure.
"Jim," she called out softly. He moved with his shoulders high. A strange tension came in his presence that gave her caution. "Are you alright?"
He gave no hint that he heard. Again, she tried.
"I can help…whatever it is that you're doing. Do you need help?"
It was not strange for the man to be quiet. The camp knew him to speak very little unless it came to repairing the motorhome's busted engine, in which his knowledge was extensive. Still, the interaction was not typical of him.
Laini swallowed down her concern. "I mended that perimeter line. Made sure it was good and noisy. Added some more pieces of tin in the cans."
There was only a pause in his action. His eyes stayed locked at the ground where a shallow hole formed under his shovel's blade.
He dipped his chin in a half nod. Like he approved of what she'd told him.
"I'll just leave you to it, then."
Her feet moved fast back to camp. The strangeness in that meadow twisted her belly in knots. She could barely wait to get back and drop the firewood from her arms just to express the weirdness over her clothes.
She heard faint cries the nearer she reached camp. The grunting and groaning. A pile of damp clothes laid out in the grass near the tents that belonged on a line somewhere.
"I'm sorry, Ed," a voice whimpered. "I should have listened. I should have l-listened."
The man gave a gurgle.
The commotion in the Peletier tent was nothing new. As much as she hated to, she walked past.
Her arms dropped the bundle of wood by the stack of fresh split logs. The sharp intense smell of sap twinged the nose.
Camp was quiet. Miranda was with the children at the small makeshift table with workbooks in front of each of them. Carl, too, sat there in the lesson. The only one absent was a small girl with short blonde hair.
Laini gave a small kick to the dust.
"Anything to report?" Dale asked over the top of the motorhome.
"Look for a clearing. Off in that direction." She pointed her finger. The man looked down with curiosity but eventually raised the binoculars to his eyes. "He's making himself something. Must be pretty focused too. Barely acknowledged I was there."
Dale caught sight of what she meant. His feet stepped forward. Brows lowered to the top of the binoculars.
"What's he doing?" He asked.
She shrugged. "Don't know. He's just, digging."
"Digging what though?"
"Holes."
It was a long while of looking through the faraway gaze before Dale retracted to the present place. He swung the binoculars off his neck. "Would you mind taking over watch?" The things were handed down to her before she gave an answer. There was fire under his step as he moved off the top of his home.
He snagged a canteen off a lawn chair.
She mounted the roof. An endless sky greeted her with warmest regard. The stunning heights showed the density of treetops all around, the descending road that wove down the hill to a paved road at the bottom that flowed out of view.
A small quarry pond of blue sat below a sharp cliff. It was fed by a waterfall. The gentle waves splintered halfway through the water. The rest of the pond laid soft and calm.
Andrea and Amy had their fishing poles hung over the sides of a small metal boat that Dale had strapped to the top of the RV prior to driving to Atlanta. They floated in circles. Neither seemed to care where the waters took them. It could never venture out of sight, or to unreachable ends.
There was a hushed return of laundry from the quarry. Jacqui and Lori carried baskets that dribbled behind them as they walked.
A few trees were strewn with long lines throughout the camp. It was not often that there weren't clothes fluttering in the breeze.
The two set to work. Their eyes looking back at the Peletier tent every so often. Voices whispered in quiet tones between the pair of women. They took pieces of battered clothing, some ripped, some thin, and strung it over the intended line.
A royal blue shirt emerged through the clothing heap. Jacqui placed it over the clothing line. WILDCATS.
Laini scanned back down to the quarry. It was clear of moving shapes that were not human. Or, live human.
She placed the pair of binoculars to her face. Looking through, she saw Dale with his canteen. He marched back hurriedly. More than once, he looked over his shoulder at the man he left behind. Digging.
The heavy weight dropped against her chest.
Either Jim was just fine and not feeling up for socializing, or something was wrong.
"Dale's got you doin' watch now?"
She couldn't see him but she knew who it was. "Yup."
"Where's he gone to? Check on his boat?" Shane teased. It was a half-hearted attempt, at best. "Ah. Told 'im those girls had no business takin' it out."
Laini rolled her eyes. She gestured over the side of the RV. "He took off down that way. Coming back now."
The man must have looked down after. Dale was clearly visible from the crest of the hill. He marched up the long gravel road to their high vantage point camp.
Shane did an impressive job of reading people. "Something happen while I was gone?"
Her tongue went to the side of her mouth. Did she dare rile him on purpose?
Obviously. "You were gone?"
Dale's quick pace broke the awkward silence that followed where Shane possibly debated climbing up to face her. Instead, he walked to approach the fast mover with concern.
"We've got a problem," Dale said. His eyes rose to the top of the RV. "He wouldn't say a word. Just like you said. I don't think he's right in his head."
Shane glanced back. His eyes twisted with question. "Who?"
"Jim," Dale replied with a quick breath.
The hike up and down the hill worn the man's lungs. He pulled a long sip from his canteen.
A second later, the two fishermen – fisherwomen – emerged with their catch as tall as they each are. Shiny silver fish bodies strung together in a bountiful string of food. Morales emerged to behold the great bounty of their efforts.
The camp seemed truly excited by the procurement.
Andrea even looked to the top of the RV. She held her arm higher in display. "Whatcha think, Lain? This good enough for a day's work?"
The bright eyes of excitement – the first in so long – were dimmed by the worrisome recount of Dale's interaction with Jim who refused to take any water despite working heavily and lacking any canteen for himself. A sense of worry descended their hearts. The rising murmurs of the crowd roused Carol from her tent. The red rims of her eyes went wide with concern. Ironically.
Dale elected to stay behind as watch when the camp decided to confront Jim's strange behavior. Laini, too, thought it better to remain at camp. "I'll hang up the rest of the washing. Get the fire started for supper."
Her eyes caught Shane's through the crowd. There was a great darkening swirl amongst the almost black of his eye.
"It should be all of us," he said.
There was little question as to whom he spoke to in her mind. He blared straight to her soul.
"He has to know we all care," Amy added.
"The man's got heat stroke. He's not thinking right because his brain is melting under this sun," she countered. "It won't matter how many of you go."
Lori fluttered her lengthy arms atop one another to lay on her abdomen. "We have to be sure. We owe him that."
"I agree," Shane added.
"Go then. I'm not stopping you." Laini made a reach for the fish. "Someone's got to tend to these anyway."
It eased the camp's mind to have her remain with a designated task rather than a choice not to help one of them.
Guilt still gnawed at her resolve. She cared for Jim. It mattered that he was struggling – environmental or just mental. They all came to grips with what had happened, some still caught in limbo of what truly happened to the work, and the way to cope was different for each person.
There were worst things he could do than dig holes all day.
Bodies shuffled away. Down the lane road to the clearing like a solemn march of a funeral. Andrea lingered. Both palms were in her back pockets.
"If you're going to make him suffer, you could just put him out of his misery already."
It earned a questioning glance.
"Don't dangle him on a line."
"I'm not dangling anything." Laini scoffed. "He's the one trying to control me."
"Control? It seems like he's the one trying to protect you. Something we all need right now. You can't expect a man like him to only focus on himself. He's not a lone wolf. No matter how much he likes to pretend he is." The blonde overlooked the group. They were getting further ahead. Amy's little head bobbed in the flow of their pace. Farther and farther from Andrea's watch. It made the woman itchy. Her body inched closer toward the road. "If you hate him, fine. Tell him. Just don't let this absorb everybody else."
Everyone else?
Pressure from all angles hit her like a brick wall. She wished for the option to escape the choice of continuing with Shane rather than accepting one path or another.
Andrea chased after the group, rejoining her sister. It left a large divide, one that pushed her farther and farther away from them all.
She gritted her teeth. It was Shane's damn meddling. Her fingers dipped into the basket of the soggy clothes, warm to the touch, and hooked them over the hanging line. Pins were in limited supply. She used as little to secure each item while still preventing it's want to be airborne right over the edge into the quarry below.
Laundry was not as mind numbing as the perimeter line. Her thoughts roamed wild yet kept secured within camp.
If she was honest, she thought of Shane the most.
It was not like they ever said they were exclusive. The signs were obvious that it was a benefits situation with hooking up and spending time together – as friends – with no promise of exclusivity or expression of commitment.
In fact, the only thing they were dedicated to was sex. They were at each other like animals. There was gravity in their fingers the moment they became close. Each unable to remove their lips from the other as if the very subsistence of their lives was found buried within their flesh. The inescapable attraction made serious thoughts all the more difficult. How could they truly separate if they were always a tangled mess of limbs somewhere?
She was feeding the flames of the camp's central firepit when the group returned. A hollow glint in their eyes concerned her. Her knees cracked as she stood.
The children were dispatched to their work immediately. Lori and Miranda clung near. Each woman knelt by the table and instructed them what to do in the eerie wave of quiet that fell. Amy and Andrea surrounded their fish. Morales brought out the filet knives, super sharp to the point of precision. Jacqui looked on from the road. Her dark arms crossed; eyes stayed level.
A small figure broke her gaze.
"Carol," she said with surprise.
The woman looked at the growing fire and gave a timid smile.
"Are you alright?" Laini asked.
She'd seen the way she looked before. The whimpers, too.
Carol nodded. "I'm fine." Her voice was mild. Flat. "Ed's resting. He'll heal up fine."
Her head cocked. A strange ringing rose through the noise of the camp. "Heal?"
Just then, there was commotion at the road. She heard a struggle. Her feet instinctively moved. They pushed her forward, toward Jacqui who seemed to watch it progress without intervention. When she surmounted the hill, she realized why.
Jim was being tied to a tree. His arms tied behind him to prevent his escape. Shane was there, next to him, whispering something, calm, while his fingers cinched the ropes tight. He patted the man to comfort though the agitation that surfaced through Jim's face said it did anything but calm him. It had his shoulders flexed against his restraints. Bits of bark broke.
The black canteen hung from Shane's shoulder was opened atop Jim's head. Water poured through the man's hair to his shirt. The redness of his cheeks slowed under the cool wash.
Her mouth finally found strength. "What happened?"
"We just asked him to stop. That's all." Jacqui dropped her arms to her sides. "It made him angry. He swung his shovel at Shane, nearly struck him in the head. It took Shane and Morales to hold him enough to tell he was overheated."
The poor man was tortured with a melting brain. None of them could escape the heat. It just sank through to him quicker.
"It's not his fault." Laini looked on in desperate ache at the scene below the tree.
Jacqui glanced over and nodded. "It's got him bad. I don't know if he'll ever recover."
"He just needs cooled off." Laini trekked back to the tent to grab her own canteen. Water. Water and shade would help.
She returned to the sight of the tree where Shane remained by Jim's side, calming him. The words were lost to the wind, but she felt the undercurrent of his tone. It was soothing. Talking the anger out of the heat-exhausted man.
Sweat clung to Shane's chest. His shirt held deeper to the land of his muscles. Heavy beads of perspiration weighed the edges of his hair down sticking it to his forehead and back of his neck. Warmth spread throughout her limbs as she took in the image of him with a besotted lust in her mind.
He noticed her step closer. His eyes removed from his charge to appraise her until finally noticing the canteen.
She handed it over. "Take it. He needs it more."
Shane dipped his head in a nod. The lid of the canteen fiddled between his fingers. Red cuts were across the spread of his knuckles like a rash.
"He's going to need some time to cool off," he explained. His eyes fell low after a minute. "You gonna want some to drink before we go, there Jim?"
"I wasn't causing trouble. I wasn't doing nothing wrong," Jim rambled almost half in a trance.
She frowned.
Shane dumped a bit more water down over Jim. The tree provided him shade. It was the best they could offer under the circumstance of his refusal to drink.
He hesitantly waited by her side as she continued to watch the poor man writhe against their best efforts to help him. It was not what she would have chosen to do; the choice was his own. The holes did not bother any thing to sit out there.
There was sweet earthen scent on the breeze as it brushed by Shane's moist body to her nose. It was oceanic. Salty and tang, like the beach coast.
"It's just until he's calm enough. I'll explain why I had to tie him up then," Shane explained under his breath. "I'll cut him loose. He just needs some time."
She nodded. "I know."
A small twist of relief went through his eyes as he beheld her.
As pissed as she'd been when he dragged her away like an insolent child, it refused to spark to life with him so near. Especially after witnessing the compassion it took for him to not kill Jim after swinging on him with a shovel. He held him down and waited for it to subside.
That was not the making of the man she thought she knew pretty well. It was not the impression he gave the first time they met, and it'd changed the longer they were stuck together in this hellish landscape, where the blurred lines of attraction and disbelief were further muddled by the sudden emergence of patience and kindness towards people that was not expected to be there.
His hand reached over and brushed the fallen strands of her hair across her cheek. The sun caught sight of the deep red scrapes against his knuckles.
So it was the other side of Shane that existed.