Page 11

A Dark Place

RILEY

“You were never crazy, Ril.”

Heavy breaths passed between us as Amaia ran at my side. I picked up my pace, training before lunch had become a routine. It was my favorite time of the day since it was just the two of us. The temperature along the coast of Monterey had finally tempered though we couldn’t be sure if it was the season or Earth starting to heal. With as many scientists and researchers that had arrived lately— Scholars or whatever people had been calling them—maybe the answers would come soon.

“You don’t know that,” I said after another quarter mile.

She’d been pushing the issue of the bugs and my mental health the last few weeks. With The Compound being so quiet lately, Amaia had grown bored. Her boredom happened to lead to an interest in my personal affairs. It wasn’t like she didn’t have things to do to pass time but deflection of her own problems was her MO. Problems like her relationship with Jax.

“Except I do,” she chided, picking up the pace as we crossed through an old golf course. “And now, you know it too.”

Only the kick up from the recently laid cobblestone of this corner in The Compound responded to her statement. What was there for me to say? She was right. Science had never been one of my strong suits, but I wasn’t an idiot. There were indisputable facts, hard science, and then there was what your mind wanted you to believe as fact. I was struggling with the latter. We waved at one of the newer couples from the San Antonio area as they stepped out the most recent duplex builds.

Monterey Revival Style , Jax had labeled it. The Culture and Customs Committee he was intent on forming had decided to designate a living area filled with inspiration from residents’ hometowns. Of course I’d heard Amaia whisper the concept in his ear over dinner, but her thoughts often rolled into his.

“Why is this the one thing you refuse to accept?” she accused after another lap of silence.

My lips pursed to the side. Though there was a very straightforward answer to that question, if I voiced it aloud, I would have to address it. At times I felt ready for that, times such as now when Amaia was by my side. It was the reason she’d sought out one of the doctors for an opinion at my request. Then there were the moments I was alone with my thoughts. When the realization that the wrong answer to the questions I sought after could end up haunting me forever.

“Because.”

A strong gust of wind slapped me across the face. La Nina had kicked up in aggression with the instability of the atmosphere.

“Because.” Amaia broke into a full sprint. “Why?”

“Because if I accept it, then I’ll let my guard down.”

“Letting your guard down never killed anyone,” she came to a complete halt as the words passed through her ill-filtered lips. “Poor joke.”

I shrugged, coming to a stop a few steps ahead. The same could be said for her. “Only if you’re laughing at yourself too.”

“Ha, funny,” Amaia grumbled and turned down a path leading to another portion of the now fully enclosed Compound.

They’d closed off most of what would have been considered Monterey city-proper in what Amaia referred to as The Before. It was her way of separating realities. We were not the people life had molded us to be before society collapsed. Those who remained the same, died. It was simple. The same could be said for the city of Monterey, the people here were determined to rise from the ashes. We would never be who we were Before but it was who we were in The After that would make all the difference.

A large glass building sat in the center of The Compound next to The Gardens. It wasn’t complete with all the rooms Jax had instructed them to add on. So we ate most meals under an awning that an Earth elemental constructed to keep us shielded. The Kitchens , the Customs and Culture committee had settled on, was far too big for our current population. I still found it an illogical allocation of resources but I wasn’t in charge. I understood the line of thinking though. With the violence of the world slowing down and trade networks securely established, population growth was inevitable—especially if this test of society proved to be sustainable.

“I’m being serious though, Riley,” Amaia pressed on. Her persistence was oddly endearing. “It’s time to accept the truth for what it is, a gift.”

Rolling my eyes, the words slipped past my lips without a second thought. “This has never been a gift.” The response was reflexive.

“Then make it one.”

“How do you mean?” I asked, admittedly curious on her perspective.

“You know, bend that shit to your advantage. Use it to fuel you, to do whatever it is here that you want to do.” I listened as she spoke, her tone shifted to one that was definitive. I wouldn’t be able to fight her on this. Not anymore. “It’s time. You’ve been here for half a year and while everyone’s found their job, their home?—”

“I haven’t.”

“You have,” she said, side-eyeing me. Snapping at her never ended well. Much like London, it was better to bite my tongue and let her say her piece. “My home is your home, you know that. But now you need to find your place. Not just physically, I mean, here at The Compound. It’s time to settle in.”

“Been spending a lot of time with Prescott lately?” I muttered, it sounded more like his words than hers and she had a bad habit of regurgitating his opinion.

It wasn’t something I blamed her for. She was young, not exactly impressionable but Prescott had a lot of knowledge to share. I only wished she put a little more faith in her own line of thinking. There was a lot of pressure though with her being a founding member of The Compound. People looked to her with a certain sense of authority. Saying the wrong thing could make all this shit collapse. The saying ‘Rome didn’t fall in a day’ was stupid because it did. All it took was one bad decision, and the rest was a trickle-down effect.

“Well, yes,” she said, her head tilting side to side as she thought through her next words. “But my point is still valid. You were never crazy, Riley. Your father was never crazy, according to Henry, the symptoms presented as schizophrenia.”

“Can I tell you something I’ve never voiced out loud?”

“Always.” Her voice was gentle, soft, as she took my hand and gave it a light squeeze.

“I knew that,” I said, reflecting back on my childhood. “From the time I was a kid … Just if I said it out loud, it made it real.”

“Denial isn’t really your thing.”

Huffing a laugh, I looped my arm around her shoulder, pulling her in for what had become a comforting embrace over the last few months. “Don’t I know it.”

Henry was a surgeon in The Before but here at The Compound he was multi-faceted. If others with healing gifts or medical training in the past ended up settling here, he could go back to his specialty. With his wife as a former psychiatrist, Amaia had asked them to team up and run some tests, ultimately landing on the diagnosis. Well, a lack thereof. I was not schizophrenic, but my father was, so it would remain a possibility for the next few years until I aged out the range. The whispers I heard were true, and the shadows were my answer. The bugs spoke to me, awaited my command. No one else had these gifts that we were aware of.

“We can’t tell anyone.”

“I know.” She nodded. “Henry and Margot won’t say anything either. We’ll protect you, don’t worry.”

I shook my head. That wasn’t my concern. Yeah, there were people out there who still hunted down those who had more power than them. They ran in groups and often overtook smaller ones to ‘secure their survival.’ Survival of the fittest had taken a tragic turn. Some even claimed they’d seen them tossed into the back of caravans that were headed east. Rumors were of no importance to me, but facts, facts I could work with and I knew exactly how to get them.

We approached the construction site of what would be The Kitchens in a few months. Jax waved to us from the spot we’d become accustomed to eating most of our meals at, though at times the two of them disappeared into Prescott’s quarters through dinner and late into the night. I gripped her wrist, halting her in our approach. She turned, staring up at me in question at the hold up.

“You’re right. It’s time I do more around here. Pull my weight in a more consistent way.”

“Feels like there’s a ‘but’ coming somewhere,” she said as she nibbled on her bottom lip.

“That’s a given,” I chided, peering down at the person who saved me in more ways than one. A deeper dive into our vulnerable side wasn’t something the two of us shared often. We’d been in sync since the day I’d arrived. But there were moments like this when it was important to get the words out. Important to make it clear where I stood, where my priorities lied. “My mind … it’s a dark place, yet you brighten it.”

“Oh shit, are we having a moment?” Amaia chuckled only to be silenced by the simmer of my glare. “Right, sorry. Go ahead.”

“If this is truly a gift I possess, then I want to use it to help you. To keep this place safe.”

She took a step closer to me, the scent of ash and coffee filling the space between us. A heavy look of concern hung in her dark eyes. “You mean keep me safe? We talked about this. Compound first. I’m a big girl, Ril, I can handle myself.”

“Don’t we all know it.” I brushed off her response, tipping my head at the passersby headed to mealtime. In a hushed tone, I met her stare. “That doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to have your back.”

“Well, there’s two someones technically.” She shrugged with a sigh. “Three if you include yourself. Not that any of you ever asked my permission to do that.”

“And I still won’t, but I’d like your blessing. Yes, there are two men at your back, but this place is going to be something someday. A symbol of what’s possible. A good soldier has a plan A, B, and C. A soldier that survives ?—”

“Doesn’t have plans, they possess an artillery of blueprints, knowledge and a solid team at their back.” The smirk she so proudly wore crept onto her face she finished my sentence. It was the exact phrase she’d uttered this morning to the current, pompous general who was bound to get someone killed. “You’ve been working the shadows despite your concerns.”

I held my head high, accepting the praise she always managed to provide no matter how small the accomplishment. Jax rose to his feet in the distance at the shift in my posture. His freckled face was reddened, a wide smile plastered across it. He was far more observant than the residents gave him credit for.

“You’ve shown no interest in being one of our soldiers.”

“I’m not their soldier.” I stood at attention, eyes trained on the daring woman before me. “I’m your weapon.”

“Are you sure about this?” she whispered, but the toothy grin shining back at me dimmed out any ounce of hesitancy that may have remained.

With a sharp chuckle, I saluted her. “What’s my first mission, Lieutenant?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”