Page 10

The Quiet Ones

RILEY

*three months later*

The last sunrays of the day filtered into the cave, the glow elongating the shadows of the critters that accompanied me everywhere. I crouched over a small fire I managed to kindle from dry branches. This was the part I hated the most. When there were no fish and the ants found their way back to me empty-handed.

There was a short time where surviving had become easier. Fish had begun to repopulate the Pacific and streams. Depending on the luck of the day, I could catch enough to hold myself over for a day or two. In the moments when I’d come home empty, my ants brought me what they could. Small crumbs, occasional edible plants. Those were always trial and error.

My magic, while useful in life or death situations, had failed me when it came to food. The plants I grew were poisonous each and every time. I wasn’t sure if it was due to a lack of control, my less than ideal health, or just how the earth had punished me for surviving. Bringing myself near death twice had deterred any further efforts in determining the why .

When times were desperate, when food had evaded me for days, they offered up themselves. Ants, crickets, grasshoppers, inch worms if it rained the night before. Protein was key. Though I wasn’t quite sure what the point of surviving was. If there was really nothing left in this fallen world, then what was I fighting for? It wasn’t giving up. Acceptance is perseverance in disguise.

A rock tumbled into the fire from behind me, my body tensing, trying to get a sense of the threat behind me. Whoever it was had been silent in their approach. A threat. Only predators sneak up on their prey. I turned, hand going to the ax strapped across my back. Her appearance caught me off guard. The innocence in her face didn’t match the lethal confidence of her demeanor.

“Pansies don’t scare me, but those little shits you have crawling up your arm are enough to send me in the other direction.” Her raspy voice bounced off the cold, stone walls of the cave as she stepped into the entrance. “Is it hard? Eating your friends?”

Drawing my weapon, I flipped it in my palm and shifted positions. With the sun streaming in at an angle, it put me at a disadvantage I wasn’t keen on keeping.

“Relax. If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done that hours ago,” the woman remarked casually. The slight in her voice carried a hint of amusement.

Her boldness set me off kilter, unsure of how to respond. She stepped further into the cave, arms crossed over her tank top that was tucked into some black cargo pants. A small armory lined the belt of her pants, but her energy made me feel as though there was more to fear from her than the weapons at her side.

I scanned the rest of her as she set down a backpack at her feet. “You should really be more aware of your surroundings.” Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, everything about her was a bit too put together to be out here on her own.

“You’re clean,” I observed, taking note of the lack of overall grime over her body. Even underneath her fingernails was absent the usual caked clump of both earth and flesh.

“So observant.”

Smoke and ash filled the air around me, yet the truth was evident. “No smell.” My eyes narrowed. “You don’t stink.”

“How kind,” she surmised, hand falling to her chest in feigned flattery.

“What do you want?”

There was no denying the woman before me was a force of nature. While she appeared a few years younger than me, a pinch in my gut set off the warning bells in my mind. The way she stood there—a mixture of defiance and vulnerability in her stance—I found myself intrigued. Still, I wouldn’t ignore my gut. Not again.

The tension between us hung sharply in the air. I edged to the side, sizing her up. Shifting my weight, I glanced around the cavern walls. In this confined space, every move mattered and an advantage could be the difference between life or death. Her gaze was unwavering as she met my eyes. Everything about her seemed calculated.

“For you to come back with me to Monterey.” The woman’s round lips curled into a smirk, a hint of the wild in her wide eyes.

Frustration flickered through me. The emotion was so fleeting, it caught me off guard. There was something innately trustworthy about the woman standing before me, yet her choice to lie made it wane. “Monterey burned to the ground.”

“Odd thing to tell someone who literally passed through its very gates this morning. You know something I don’t?”

I struggled to maintain a facade of disinterest, but could sense my uncertainty lingering beneath the surface. We stood there, locked in wordless curiosity. She closed some of the gap between us with a few purposeful steps. Her head tilted, a curl popping free in her bun. I looked down at her, though the command in her presence made it feel as if we met eye to eye.

“How long have you been on your own?”

“I’m not alone,” I lied.

She scanned the cave in a dramatic display before smirking. “Oh, come on, don’t lie to me. Not a great way to establish trust.”

“Ninety-two days.”

While my focus remained locked on the micro-change in her body language, the quickness of my response shocked even myself. Maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was because I was so damn tired. But I wanted to tell her my story against my better judgment.

Don’t. Remember what happened. You’ll fail her too.

“That’s very precise. You count the days like that often?”

The fire crackled in the empty air. Embers floated around the cave as the flames dimmed. She took a deep breath, tapping her fingers against her pants in contemplation. Looking toward the gray smoke trickling out of the cave, the fire erupted back to its original state. A firecaster then.

“Well, that explains a lot,” she continued when I offered no response. “You’re misinformed. Sad reality of leaving behind a group.”

“I don’t leave people behind,” I hissed, angered by the insinuation.

I would never leave someone behind. That wasn’t an option for me. Once a team, always a team. No matter what, no matter the costs.

I would not fail.

She took two steps forward, closing what remained of the gap while carefully avoiding the critters on the group. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she swallowed a gag as the ants at my feet crawled up my leg toward my arm. “Didn’t peg you for the kind of guy that did. Just making sure.”

Backing away, she kept her steps even paced. Her foot backed into the bag she’d dropped at the entrance. Slowly, she pulled it up and opened it. Wide brown eyes held steady on mine as she pulled out a canteen and a pack of nuts. A piece of jerky wrapped in cloth landed on top, causing my mouth to water. It’d been a long time since I’d had any meat that didn’t come from the sea.

“Sorry, it sucks. We’re just now getting into the whole quality food stuff.” Her eyes flickered as she gauged my reaction. “Name’s Amaia. I’m from a group over in Monterey. We’re putting up walls, rebuilding. Ya know, trying out the whole civilization idea again if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“You’re inviting a stranger to come stay in your home?”

It didn’t make any sense. So far, all the groups I’d come across had been nothing but trouble. My sister was right, staying to ourselves had been the best course of action. If only I had followed the path. There weren’t many good people left in this world. Weren’t many good people to begin with.

“Well, it’s a community, not a house, and you’re not a stranger if I’ve spent the last day watching you. I know enough.” Mischief sang in her tone as she spoke of her antics, leaning her body against the wall of the cave. “Followed you back from the Pacific. It’s not that you’re bad at covering your trail. Actually got me lost a few times before I picked it up again. You just aren’t good enough to keep away someone looking for a guy like you .”

Who was protecting this woman? Who had her back? The work she was doing was dangerous. Not because she was a woman, but because she was alone. Amaia’s mindset was risky. Taking in strangers, accepting the unknown would end up with her hurt or worse. Flashes of London’s last moments sauntered around my mind, teasing me with pangs of guilt. If no one had Amaia’s back, then I would. Someone had to look out for her.

I glanced her over once more. Really studied her this time. Inspected every inch of her being as she watched, letting me see what I needed to. She kept one arm down at her side, the other on her hip, leaving herself vulnerable to my scrutiny. A small smile graced her lips. This time, however, the smile was kind, pure. Honest. Screamed an honest woman. Pure hearts never got you far these days, but what did I have to lose from finding out what she had to offer?

“How many of you?”

“No more than a thousand,” she answered, shrugging as she considered a passing thought. “Though that’ll probably change when Jax gets back tonight. He was tracking a decent group a few miles east for a while.”

Peering behind her, I wondered if she did in fact have someone accompanying her. If she did, they’d kept themselves well-hidden during our interaction. No one was there. Moments passed, and I listened for any hints. The only response was the crashing of waves and nature in the distance. Not sure who the hell Jax was, I loosened my posture, deciding to see where this next phase in life had to offer me.

“You can bring your stuff with you.” Amaia chuckled, taking a few steps back and leaving the backpack at the cave entrance. “There’s more food in there. Try not to eat it too fast or you’ll make yourself sick. I’ll be back in a day. I need to make some arrangements.”

“I didn’t say yes,” I called after her, watching her disappear around the corner and out of sight.

“Yes, you did,” Amaia’s voice chimed over the angry waves below the cliff side. “Maybe not right now, but your mind will change by the time I get back.”

I considered following her for a moment. A brief moment, but nevertheless, considered. Spooking her was the last thing I wanted. Amaia hadn’t been kind necessarily, but she was forward in her intentions. I respected that. Respected her for offering me the opportunity. She was right, I hadn’t decided to go with her yet. Physically. But mentally, I was there. Ready to accept whatever the future looked like.

Women had enough to worry about in this world—a man following her along the coastline didn’t to be another. I wasn’t sure how she would respond to that or the kind of magic she had, but I knew what I had and I didn’t want to hurt her. The joyous youth that remained in her eyes stroked that hopeful string in my heart that had lain dormant for God knows how long.

No. That wasn’t true. I did know. Since London died.

Maybe it was her spirit speaking to me, driving me to follow my heart again when I’d long abandoned it for my head. I could trust Amaia. And now I would need her to trust me. If Monterey was truly a place meant for me, she would come back. No matter how agonizing the next twenty-four hours would become.

On the ninety-third day alone, I found my forever home.

She came back the next morning. The sun’s position blinded me as my eyes cracked open. Her shadow crawled across the cavern wall. A tall man stalked behind her, his eyes shifting about. It took him a few moments before they passed over me. I shot up under his intense stare. Sharp, hazel eyes hovered on mine. We remained locked in a stand-off, the threat passing between us clear: Hurt her and die . I nodded in reassurance. There would be no threat from me.

He cleared his throat for a false pleasantry. “How are you getting on?”

“See, I told you it’d make a good hideout,” Amaia said, splitting the tension.

“I’m not sure a cave where you can spy in without them knowing is a good hideout.” His vowels stretched while he tripped over other portions of words, making it hard to place his accent. If I had to guess, he’d been in the country for a while before the bombs went off.

“Oh please, I never would’ve found this place had I not followed him from the wharf.” She paused thoughtfully, stopping in front of me with a container in her hand. “Also, fire is always a bad idea unless you’re desperate.”

The familiarity with which she communicated with me was not overlooked. When she spoke to me, it was as if we were long-lost friends. Now in the group of three, she moved between the red-haired man and me with relaxed shoulders. His attention on me was unwavering though it was clear he tracked each of her movements.

“She’s a wee hardheaded. Apologies for the intrusion lad, ready to go?” His use of slang clued me in, though now that I looked him over, it was obvious.

My silence persisted despite my best wishes. It was overwhelming being around others after spending so much time alone. While I hadn’t been out there solo as long as others and it was only two of them, it still felt like a crowd. No, you made your decision. Stick to it .

Amaia cleared her throat, offering a small smile. Today she’d come more casual. Her hair was down, the dark curls falling in front of her face, and she sported shorts instead of cargo pants to accommodate the heat of the day. She hadn’t lost the small armory around her body, however.

“This is Jax. My friend I told you about yesterday. We trust him, okay?” With a gentle push, Amaia placed the container against my chest. Her gaze shot toward the ground as she peered in Jax’s direction. By the way his freckled face reddened at his name on her lips, ‘friend’ didn’t seem to be the right word. “For your little friends. Thought you should probably stop eating them.”

For the first time in ninety-eight days, I laughed. A small, inaudible laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. It had been ninety-three days since London died. Ninety-five since I’d accepted she might not get better. And ninety-eight since she fell sick.

You can’t put yourself through this again. This is wrong. Leave in the night. Stick to the shadows.

I shook my head, wrestling with the thoughts and doing my best to discern logic from fallacy. The facts. All I needed to do was focus on the facts at hand. The rest I could deal with once I had all the information I needed to make an informed decision. That would mean seeing the place firsthand, really looking into what they had to offer. Amaia and Jax seemed healthy enough. Clean. Well put together. More importantly, there was a peace in her eyes that I hadn’t seen in over a year and a half. Since the world ended.

“If your home is safe, why do you need a hideout?” I questioned, circling back to her first observation when she arrived.

Jax cracked a crooked smile. “Because she’s got a few screws loose.”

A sharp, childlike chuckle escaped Amaia as she stepped toward Jax and shoved him playfully. “ No . Because one can never be too prepared,” she said, her tone shifting back to one of authority. “Sometimes you end up shit out of luck. A stocked up hideaway can prevent that.”

“You must have resources to spare if you can stand the risk of someone else taking it.”

Amaia shrugged while Jax released an amused snort like it was not a big deal that it was. Resources were slim. Every calorie counted. Leaving something for the next person may end up causing your own death.

“That’s kinda the point,” Amaia offered. “At the end of the day it’s how humanity will survive. Whether it’s for our people or someone else, at least it’ll go toward someone in need.”

Opening the container, I commanded the ants to make their way inside. A few curious stray critters joined them and I wondered if my command had reached them too. I still wasn’t clear on how many I could have under my control at once, but maybe the safety of a home would allow me the space to explore the full extent of my gifts. Amaia had jabbed small air holes over the top. Although she didn’t appear to have the same appreciation toward my small friends, the gesture meant everything.

I reached for my belongings, but Jax beat me there. “We have to start caring less about ourselves and more for the good of the group. Do you ever wonder how far the human race could have gone had we kept that idea as a guiding force?” Tossing one of my bags over his shoulder, another sly grin tugged at his lips followed by a pat on the back as he strolled out the cave. It was harder to read him than it was her. Still there was a welcoming aura in the protectiveness he offered her.

My heart palpitated. The sore, aching place in my heart saddened my sister would not be here for this. Whatever this was.

Amaia walked at my side, keeping my hesitant pace. A constant, small smile populated her face. I watched as she followed behind Jax who’s head remained on a constant swivel. The sun shined against her sepia skin. Grateful. That was the emotion she wore that radiated from her. Not peace, but grateful for another chance. It was comforting.

We walked in only the white noise of nature for miles, the landscape stretching on in desolate ruins. Somewhere between being lost in my thoughts and Jax’s whistles a dog had appeared at Amaia’s side. She was large with a healthy shine to her coat. The animal sniffed at my ankles as I walked before taking off on ahead of our group. It wasn’t until a gust of wind brushed against my skin that the faint whispers of my surroundings sunk in. The horizon ahead was broken by the sight of looming steel walls and the distant dance of smokestacks.

Despite the obvious signs of construction, an eerie quiet hung in the air. The realization dawned on me. This community had harnessed their powers to rebuild, the wind dispersing the noise of construction in order to spread out any incoming herds.

I spiraled. My thoughts varying from utter amazement to a horrid question of whose bed I was offering to lay in.

Amaia bumped her shoulder into mine with an understanding stare. “You don’t talk?”

“I prefer to listen,” I mumbled, and it was true. There was no need to speak when people’s intentions often became clear if you just sat back to listen. To watch, much to Amaia’s point.

“They say it’s the quiet ones you have to watch,” Jax said, slowing to match his pace to ours.

Glancing at Amaia, I took my chance to make a boundary clear. “I also prefer to do the watching.”

“We’ll work on that then,” she teased. “Because you’re not very good at it.”

“Or maybe I am.”

“Was that a joke?” Amaia grinned, the Doberman ahead of her barking as we approached a gap in the wall.

I didn’t answer her. Didn’t need to. Instead, I stepped through what felt to be a portal to a new home. As long as it was her home, it would be mine. For I would protect this place with everything I had, protect Amaia. Construction had consumed this area of stone homes and cobbled roads but within a few steps I knew it was everything London and I had searched for our entire lives. It was a haven. In this life, it was hard to tell who was who in the world before. But here, it didn’t appear to matter as a village of people worked to put this place together. They greeted Amaia and Jax as I walked through. Each of them nodded toward me in silent hello then turned back to their duties paying me no mind. Laughs erupted between the young and old, but more importantly, there was no sign of distress.

This place was a haven. A place to call home. Amaia’s vision was mine, and thus, she was mine to protect.

And I would not fail.