Page 21 of Tear Me Down (Descent to Darkness Trilogy #2)
Chapter ten
Ashia
The Next Day
Trees pass us by, gliding past as smooth as the car rides, and the drive to the Attic is surprisingly quiet—even with Carter and Serena in the back seat. We're all excited, but nervous. Today is going to be a busy day, but I'm just happy to help however Damien needs me to.
Once I finally got myself together and came downstairs earlier, I heard Carter and Damien talking about the plan for the day.
I'm not sure what all the intake will require, but I know Damien needs to inspect the Attic before the mercenaries arrive.
He hasn't seen it in person either since the last time he oversaw the construction.
The poor thing has barely left my side since before last night, and while he's anxious to get the Attic up and running, I know he's worried about his father coming.
Damien woke up again last night, at four in the morning.
It actually kind of scared me the way he jerked awake, covered in sweat.
He tried to tell me a little about his dreams once he settled down, but he doesn’t really remember them once he wakes up.
Stumbled over the few blips he recalled and got frustrated.
I tried explaining to him that he doesn’t need to remember them in detail to remember how he feels about them, but that still didn’t make much sense to him.
He just said that he was being ridiculous.
Of course, I tried to shoot that down, but he insisted that he was alright and ‘just needed to get over it.’
The aggravation carried onto everything he did this morning.
He was in full commando mode, and giving out orders left and right, checking in with Chris and Ezra to make sure the gun shipment was received properly and that everything was finished and ready.
I know he's frustrated, but I wish he would open up about how he’s feeling.
He’s always so tough. So strong. I’m not sure he’s ever felt like this.
There has to be so much that he harbors deep down and doesn’t let slip.
So many things he locks away and doesn’t allow himself to feel.
He hasn’t brought up Henry since I was poisoned, he’s never talked about Emma—about how he felt or what happened after she died, and he hasn’t really talked about what happened last week.
Besides love and anger, he hasn’t really shown what else he feels.
Perhaps he doesn’t allow himself to feel anything else.
Hell, he didn’t even believe he felt love until recently.
Is he afraid of feeling? Since he does so intensely, I find that hard to believe, but this seems new for him.
With everything he’s been through and seen I’m surprised this hasn’t happened to him before.
I’m shocked that every dream he has isn’t filled with the faces of the men he’s killed or the things he’s witnessed.
I mean, his best friend died, and I’m not really sure how.
That’s how little he’s talked about it, and while he continues to pretend like it doesn’t bother him, it’s clearly starting to mess with him.
I kind of envy that. His ability to act like nothing is eating away at him, even though it makes me feel helpless. I don’t want him to wake up scared every morning in a panic and not know why. He needs to take it easy and make sure he gets enough sleep.
At least from my experience, the dreams and reactions were worse when I was tired.
I know with what he does, though, it might be difficult for him to get enough rest, especially when he’s constantly worried about me.
I had mentioned going back to work soon, so that maybe he could relax a little during the day, but you would have thought I shot his dog, if he had one.
It’s not that he doesn’t want me working at all. He understands that I need work to help me feel normal, but he’s terrified to let me. Especially after I got sick last night, he said he doesn’t think it’s a good idea for me to go back to work until I’m at one hundred percent.
Knowing when that is, though, is going to be difficult.
Earlier this morning—before I came downstairs, I got sick again, and I didn’t tell him.
I know I should have, but I don’t want him to worry any more than he already is.
Derek had said that because of my past issues, my stomach could be very sensitive for a while.
I called this morning to talk to him about it, and he said that he could prescribe me some anti-nausea medication if needed.
Declining respectfully, I just said that I’d wait to see how long it lasts.
The sickness comes and goes in waves, even as we ride in the car, but I won’t tell Damien that either.
Between his murder spree last night, the very early morning sex, and his nightmares, he’s exhausted.
The last thing he needs is something else on his shoulders, and I know that he’s going to put anything involving me at the top of his list.
A few minutes later, we pull up to the Attic, which is only about fifteen minutes from the house, higher into the mountain, and it looks exactly what I imagined a military base would look like.
Barbed wired fencing surrounds the entire property, and the gate to get in is much more intricate than the one at the house.
It’s tall—very tall, and it’s more like a wall than a fence.
There’s no space to slip through. Not even for something as small as a hand.
You have to scan your palm on a small pad at the same time you turn a key just to open the gate.
The building itself is massive and very plain, but it’s not supposed to look flashy.
It’s supposed to be indestructible, or as close to it as possible, and I would believe if it were.
The exterior walls are a mix of concrete and metal, clearly fortified by the placement of steel posts and beams, and while there are some windows, they’re visibly thick glass.
The sun barely bounces off of them, showing how dense and sturdy they are with how eagerly they absorb the light.
Damien pulls into a parking space behind the building—since the front is nothing but a solid wall and then grass, rock, and tree-filled hills—and we all get out of the car.
This back area, however, is not similar at all.
There’s what seems to be a hundred parking spaces, and I can see on the far end of the building what looks to be a loading dock with three pull down, heavy metal doors.
Looking up at the lot lights, I see the many security cameras posted up, and the walled fence seemingly stretches around the entire property.
“We’ll get you girls scanned and keyed before we leave,” Damien says as he walks around the car and takes my hand.
“I get a key?” Serena asks, her eyes wide. Damien rolls his eyes briefly, clearly annoyed with her already.
“Unless you don’t want one?” he retorts, and Ser shakes her head vigorously.
“If Ashia’s going to be here, I'll take one.”
We walk through the heavy door, which also requires a handprint and a different key.
The scanner lights up green, and as Damien pushes open the reinforced door, it leads us to nothing but a hallway.
On the left is a large window made of the same glass as the exterior ones, but this is more like a reception area than anything.
Not that I expect that he plans on having a lot of visitors, but the man sitting behind the glass seems to be on a lookout.
“Hey, D. Hey, Carter.” He greets us.
“Hey, Ezra. This is Ashia, and Serena.” Damien points to us.
“Nice to meet you,” he says before we hear a buzzing sound, and Damien opens the next door.
My jaw drops with how detailed the security is, and how thoroughly they thought this out.
This is definitely more intricate than the Basement was, and it looks so professional.
A spy would be jealous of this set up, but I suppose with his father’s military background, something this detailed is to be expected.
He shows us around, and this place looks like something from the movies.
It has a stockpile of water and food, it runs on solar power, and has its own well and river access.
Plus, it has a huge armory, garage, training area, bunks, and pretty much anything necessary to comfortably survive a zombie apocalypse.
I know Damien said this was an upgrade, but holy shit.
This is definitely more than an upgrade .
How much of this did they do after what happened last week?
Carter looks like a kid on Christmas when we walk into his new lair.
At least, that’s what he calls it. He smirks as he looks around the room, obviously proud to show it off.
There’s an actual couch with a pull-out bed, as well as a humongous desk with countless drawers and cabinets.
Twelve monitors line the walls above it, six in one row and six underneath it.
A large scanner sits off to the side and looks like it’s connected to the main tower.
I can’t help but giggle at all of the left-over boxes and packaging from the organizational items they bought for him.
Considering the state of his old room at the Basement, I’m not surprised he has more options for structure here.
Knowing the little I do about Carter, I assume it won’t be long before it starts looking like it once did—which is probably why they bought as much storage as possible .
Serena and Carter choose to stay in his nice new set up, while Damien and I wait outside for his dad and the mercenaries.
His dad called earlier to tell us that he was going to ride in with them, and I think that made him more nervous.
I look over to Damien, and he has his arms crossed as he lightly sways back and forth, looking down at the ground in contemplation.