Page 23 of Whispers and Warriors (After #2)

TWENTY-THREE

Emma stood at the railing of the ship, gazing out at the endless expanse of blue before her. The salt-tinged breeze whipped through her hair, tangling the curls even more as they whipped in front of her eyes.

She couldn’t help but marvel over the fourteen days. Fourteen days of safety, of being surrounded by other women and children. Fourteen days without the constant fear of being trapped or hunted. Or worse.

Working alongside the men, or having them guard her as she helped care for the kids, had been an odd experience, but not a bad one. It had just been years since she’d worked doing anything other than keeping her plants and animals alive in the basement. Seeing how wonderful Alex, Liam and William were with were with the children, their gentle hands and patient smiles, had stirred something deep within her. A longing for the life she’d once dreamed of, before the world had turned to ash and dust. She imagined Chris and Bash would be a little gruffer, but it changed nothing.

As she prepared for a meal with just the women, excitement warred with nerves in her gut. Captain Novak had assured her it was to allow them total peace, a respite from the constant vigilance required in the presence of men. Emma understood what the captain meant, but after so many months constantly by someone’s side, this seemed strange. William was technically hovering, ready to stand guard with another member of security because Chris and Bash couldn’t be spared.

Her mind drifted back to the conversation with Chris the night before, their voices rising in the confines of their shared room. And how the others did nothing to step in.

“I don’t like it, Emma,” Chris had said, his jaw clenched tight. “We don’t know these people. It could be a trap. We can’t just up and let you go in a room alone, what if they gas it?”

“It’s not a trap,” she’d insisted, meeting his gaze head-on. “Captain Novak has given us no reason to doubt her. I’m going, Chris.”

He let out a low growl, his eyes closing. “You are not property for me to command but this isn’t smart. Haven’t you had enough adventure in the last month? Fuck, even at the island it’s possible you’ll need us, but it’ll be safer.”

“I’ll always need you but that doesn’t mean I need to be guarded all the damn time.” Her chest heaved and tears threatened to blur her vision. They’d never fought before, not since a few rough words when she thought he hated her.

Their voices clashed like thunder in the small room, each word a sharp edge in their first real fight since she had become part of his team. Frustration painted their expressions, her eyes flashing with defiance while his jaw set in stubborn resolve. But as the tension began to dissolve, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her into a comforting embrace, as he leaned in, his face nestled into the softness of her hair, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender.

“I’m sorry,” he’d murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Your safety... it’s just hard for me to let go of. I need you to be careful, okay?”

Emma had nodded, melting into his embrace. She understood his fear, the constant dread of losing someone else in this unforgiving world. But she needed this, needed to connect with other women who understood the unique challenges they faced.

Now, as she made her way toward the mess hall, and the delicious aroma of barbecue sauce wafted on the breeze, she couldn’t help but believe she’d made the right choice, even if it was a bit scary. She would embrace this moment of peace, this chance to forge bonds with those who shared her struggles. And later, she would return to her men, and let them do whatever they needed to assure her she was well.

The smell of steaming broccoli and barbecue chicken enveloped Emma as she stepped through the doorway, a tantalizing mix of spices and savory notes that made her mouth water. She paused for a moment, letting the warmth and the chatter wash over her, a stark contrast to the eerie silence she thought she’d have endured for the rest of her life.

With a deep breath, Emma moved toward an empty seat, her footsteps light and purposeful, as if she were walking on air. Around her, women of all ages and backgrounds greeted each other with warm smiles and friendly touches, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of camaraderie.

“Happy to sit near you! I don’t think we’ve met yet, but I’ve seen you around. You’re Emma, correct?” A woman with silver-streaked hair and kind eyes waved her over. “You and your…protectors are a little hard to miss.”

Emma returned the smile, feeling an immediate sense of belonging that she hadn’t realized she craved, but also a little embarrassed. “Thank you,” she replied, settling into her seat. “It’s wonderful to be here.”

As she took in the scene before her, Emma marveled at the transformation. The mess hall, usually a functional space for hurried meals, had been transformed into a haven of warmth and companionship. Colorful quilts draped over the tables, and mismatched vases held sprigs of wildflowers, their delicate petals a reminder of the beauty that still existed in this broken world.

The clinking of cutlery and the rise and fall of conversations filled the air, and Emma allowed herself to relax, the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. It was a world away from the constant vigilance and danger that had become her norm, and for a moment, she could almost forget the horrors that lurked beyond these walls.

“I’m Delany.”

“Do you mind if I ask how you came to be here?” Emma nearly whispered, uncertain if there was an etiquette around these things.

“I don’t think I count, but I don’t mind. You see, Captain Novak is my sister, she basically had to bring me along.”

“So, you do this trip all the time?”

“Three times a year so far. It takes time to steal the supplies we need. The government handout drops aren’t enough to fuel a mission like this. Thankfully the island has a lot of livestock and vegetation. Not the stuff we’re used to, but good stuff.”

I could farm again.

The thought would’ve driven her mad five years ago, but today it seemed like a warm hug.

“It’s nice to see everyone so happy,” Emma remarked to the woman beside her, a petite brunette with a friendly smile. “I don’t think I’ve heard this much laughter in... well, a long time.”

Delany nodded, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “It’s important to find joy where we can,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “In a world like this, these moments of peace are precious, but the island will change all that.”

Emma couldn’t agree more. As she looked around the room, taking in the faces of the women who had become her sisters in survival, she felt a swell of gratitude. They had all lost so much, had endured unimaginable hardships, and yet here they were, finding solace in each other’s company.

And though her heart ached for the men who waited for her return, Emma was excited to be able to be with others who knew her experience in a way men never would.

“I’m from the safe haven. We’d barely gotten there when a transmission warned what was going to happen because I wasn’t pregnant and my team was essentially told they would be killed and I could end up being a fuck doll since I hadn’t conceived despite many attempts.”

Delany’s face twisted with disgust, but before she could respond the woman beside Emma leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself,” she said with a smile. “I’m Sarah. I’ve heard so much about you, Emma. It’s an honor to finally meet you. I came from a small family compound just outside of Colorado. There were whispers about this ship, so my family took the risk. Nine kids, three adult women and five adult men. I think we’re the only party bigger than yours”

Emma felt a blush creep into her cheeks. “The honor is all mine,” she replied, reaching out to clasp Sarah’s hand in a warm handshake. “I love hearing that there are families here.”

Sarah’s gaze turned serious, her eyes searching Emma’s face. “We’ve all had to make hard choices to survive,” she said softly. “Thankfully this trip is supposed to remove of that.”

The weight of Sarah’s words settled in on Emma and she swallowed hard. It was a burden she hadn’t asked for, but one she would bear gladly if it meant bringing some measure of comfort to those around her.

“I’m just lucky to have found such incredible people to stand beside me,” Emma said, her voice thick with emotion. “My boys...they’ve been my rock through all of this. I don’t know what I would do without them.”

Sarah nodded, her dark brown eyes shining with understanding. “Love is a powerful thing,” she murmured. “It can give us the strength to keep going, even when all seems lost. And from what I’ve seen, the love between you and your men... it’s something special.”

As the conversation lulled, Emma found herself lost in thought, her gaze drifting over the sea of faces before her. Each woman here had a story, a tale of loss and hardship etched into the lines of their faces and the shadows in their eyes. And yet, despite it all, they had endured. They had found the strength to keep going, to carve out a new life in the ruins of the old world.

It was a strength that Emma both admired and envied. For so long, she had been running, always looking over her shoulder, never daring to hope for a future beyond mere survival. But now, surrounded by the warmth and camaraderie of these women, she couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps there was something more waiting for her on the horizon.

Her thoughts turned to her harem, to the five men who had become her everything.

They were her home, her family, her reason for living. And yet, even as her heart ached with longing for them, Emma knew that this moment, this brief respite from the chaos and danger of the outside world, was a gift. A chance to breathe, to remember what it felt like to be human, to connect with others who understood the weight of the burdens she carried.

As the conversation picked up once more, Emma let herself be swept away by the flow of words and laughter. She savored each bite of food, each sip of water, each fleeting moment of normalcy. And deep down, in a corner of her heart that she had long thought dead, a tiny flicker of hope began to burn, a promise of a future that might one day be more than just a distant dream.

The peal of laughter that escaped Emma’s lips was a foreign sound, a melody she had all but forgotten in the grim reality of their post-apocalyptic world. The joke, a simple, lighthearted quip about the challenges of finding a decent pair of shoes amidst the rubble, had struck a chord within her, igniting a spark of mirth that she couldn’t contain.

“I never thought I’d miss high heels,” Emma said, her eyes dancing with amusement as she glanced at the worn, practical boots on her feet. “But what I wouldn’t give for a pair of stilettos right about now.”

The woman beside her, a petite redhead with a smattering of freckles across her nose, grinned in understanding. “Right? I used to complain about how uncomfortable they were, but now? I’d trade a week’s worth of rations for a chance to feel that ache in my arches again.”

The table erupted in a chorus of agreement, each woman sharing her own memories of the little luxuries they had once taken for granted. Lipstick, perfume, the perfect little black dress—all relics of a world that no longer existed, but that lived on in their shared nostalgia.

As the laughter subsided, Emma felt a warmth blossoming in her chest, a sense of camaraderie and connection that she had never experienced before. These women, each one a survivor in her own right, understood the trials she had faced, the losses she had endured. They knew the value of a moment of levity, a fleeting escape from the constant strain of simply staying alive.

Chris might not love it, but Emma was going to come to these meals as often as they had them. He would come to understand, and probably realized he missed boy time as much as she needed this.

William stood rigidly outside the bustling lunch area, his piercing blue eyes scanning the crowd of chattering women inside. A simmering frustration bubbled just beneath his calm exterior as he watched them go about their meal, blissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked beyond the confines of this ship.

He shifted his weight, the rifle slung across his back a familiar and reassuring presence. As much as he loathed being stuck on guard duty after days spent with leadership. Someone had to keep watch, to protect what remained of their fractured world.

Protect her.

His thoughts drifted to Emma, picturing her warm smile and the way her hazel eyes sparkled when she laughed. A fierce protectiveness surged through him. He would do anything, give anything, to keep her safe. To keep all of them safe. If that meant standing outside some silly tea or lunch or whatever this was, he’d do it.

“Some weather we’re having, huh?” an unfamiliar voice drawled beside him.

William tensed, his hand instinctively twitching toward his weapon as he turned to face the stranger. The man leaned casually against the wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp and assessing.

“Can’t complain,” William replied evenly, his own gaze unwavering as he sized up the newcomer who also had a gun, leaving William hoping he was another guard and not a problem. “Beats the alternative off the ship.”

The man chuckled, but there was no real humor in the sound. “Ain’t that the truth.”

William kept his face carefully neutral, even as unease prickled along his spine. He hadn’t seen this man before, and new faces seemed impossible on a ship after two weeks.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you around,” William said, keeping his tone light and conversational. “You new to guard duty?”

The man shrugged one shoulder. “You could say that. Just passing through, really. My wife is in there, I wasn’t thrilled letting her out of my sight so I signed up to help.”

William’s instincts that screamed that something was off shifted because he understood what the man must be going through.

“Well, welcome to guard duty, I guess,” William said, extending a hand. “I’m William.”

The man hesitated a beat before grasping William’s hand in a firm shake. “John,” he said simply.

As they released their grip, William couldn’t shake the feeling that “John” was not being entirely truthful. But he simply nodded, turning back to his watchful position over the lunch area.

He couldn’t see into the mess hall, but the only door was right beside him, so he wasn’t too bothered that guard duty was outside—even if Chris has been.

The ship rocked gently beneath his feet, the crash of waves against the hull a soothing rhythm that had become as familiar to William as his heartbeat. He let his gaze drift over the horizon, the vast expanse of the ocean stretching out before them, endless and unchanging leaving him wondering if they truly every would get where they were going.

It was almost easy to forget, in moments like these, the horrors that lurked beyond the safety of the ship. The toxin, the violence, the countless lives lost... Here, with the salt spray on his face and the sun warm on his skin, William could almost pretend that the world hadn’t ended.

Almost.

But even as he savored the brief reprieve, a sense of unease coiled in his gut. It was too quiet, too calm. In William’s experience, moments like these never lasted long.

Beside him, John shifted his weight, his posture too casual, too at ease. William’s hand twitched toward his weapon, an instinct honed by years of fighting to survive.

“So,” John drawled, breaking the silence. “You permanent on this floating tin can or passing through like my wife and I?”

William shrugged, his eyes never leaving the horizon. “Guess you’ll find out in a few weeks.”

“Secrets to keep?” John chuckled.

“I just don’t need to speak to strangers. I have my unit and you’re not part of it.”

John held up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, man. Just making conversation.”

But before William could respond, a piercing scream shattered the tranquility, the sound ripping through the air like a gunshot. In an instant, William was in motion, his body coiled tight as he spun toward the sound, his hand already reaching for his weapon.

His heart pounded in his ears, adrenaline surging through his veins as his mind raced with a single, desperate thought.

Emma.

A second later a thunderous explosion tore through the ship, sending shockwaves that knocked William off his feet. The deck bucked and twisted violently beneath him, threatening to hurl him into the chaos. He fought desperately to stand back upright as the world spun wildly, a cacophony of alarms piercing the air, blending with the terrified screams and frantic shouts of the crew scrambling in desperation.

His eyes caught sight of the problem even as his brain swore the ship was flipping in circles.

Smoke billowed from the stern, the acrid stench burning William’s nostrils as he fought to stay upright. His eyes watered, his lungs burning with each ragged breath.

Beside him, John rose to his feet and cursed, his face ashen. “What the hell was that?”

But William barely heard him.

Emma .

Fear clawed at his throat, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin. He couldn’t lose her, not now, not after everything they’d been through. She was his light in the darkness, the one thing that made this hellish existence worth living.

Without conscious thought, he was moving, his feet pounding against the deck as he raced the fifteen steps to the mess hall door. He shoved past panicked crew members, barely registering their startled cries as he barreled through the chaos.

His heart hammered in his chest, his breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps. He had to get to her, had to make sure she was safe. Nothing else mattered.

He wasn’t certain where the explosion came from, but the smoke grew thicker, the heat more intense. He could hear the crackle of flames, the ominous groaning of metal. But still, he pressed on, his determination unwavering.

“Emma!” he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. “Emma, where are you?”

But there was no response, only the deafening roar of the alarms that seemed to pierce the very soul, accompanied by the haunting, tortured screams of the injured and dying echoing in the distance, painting a vivid picture of chaos and despair.

William gritted his teeth, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He would find her, no matter what it took. He would save her, just as he always had.

Even if it meant sacrificing everything else.

His eyes darted wildly around the room, taking in the chaotic scene. The once immaculate space transformed into a nightmarish tableau of destruction. Tables and chairs were strewn across the floor, flipped over in disarray, while shards of glass and scattered debris lay like jagged confetti. The air hung heavy with smoke, a dense, suffocating fog that carried the acrid stench of burning metal and plastic, searing his nostrils with its harsh, biting odor.

But he barely registered any of it, his focus solely on finding Emma. He moved through the chaos, his heart pounding in his ears, his breathing ragged and shallow. He called out her name, his voice hoarse and desperate, but it was swallowed by the cacophony of screams and alarms.

“Emma!” he shouted again, his eyes darting from one terrified face to another. “Where are you?”

He caught a glimpse of a familiar shade of brown hair and his heart leapt into his throat. He surged forward, shoving past a group of sobbing women, his hand outstretched. But as he drew closer, he realized it wasn’t her, and his stomach plummeted. He pulled the woman up. “That way,” he shoved her toward the open door, his heart torn between helping her and finding Emma.

“Damn it, Emma,” he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched tight. “Where the hell are you?”

Spinning around, his gaze swept the room once more. The smoke was getting thicker, the heat more intense. He could feel the sweat dripping down his back, the sting of it in his eyes. But he refused to give up, refused to let the fear that clawed at his insides take hold.

This damn room was too big, too many people were in the way and too many flipped over tables blocked him.

All around him, women shoved and screamed, their eyes wide with terror as they fought to escape the smoke-filled room. The acrid stench of burning plastic and metal seared his nostrils, making his eyes water and his lungs burn with each ragged breath.

But he couldn’t focus on that now. He had to find Emma.

“Everyone, stay calm!” he shouted over the din, his voice commanding yet reassuring. “Follow me to the exit, quickly now!”

A few women near him looked up, their tear-streaked faces etched with fear and confusion. But when they met William’s steady gaze, a flicker of hope ignited in their eyes. They nodded, grabbing hold of each other’s hands as they began to move toward him.

William led the way, his strides purposeful and sure despite the uneven footing of overturned chairs and debris. He kept his gun drawn, ready to protect the group at a moment’s notice. More women fell in behind him, their whimpers and cries creating a haunting chorus amidst the shrill blare of alarms.

“That’s it, stay together,” William urged, glancing back to make sure no one was left behind. His eyes continued to search desperately for any sign of Emma’s curly brown hair or hazel eyes, his heart clenching painfully at the thought of her trapped somewhere in this nightmarish hell.

A deafening groan suddenly reverberated through the room and William’s head snapped up. His eyes widened as he saw the far wall buckling inward, the metal twisting and screeching in protest. Fiery sparks rained down from exposed wiring, igniting pockets of spilled oil and sending plumes of thick black smoke billowing toward the ceiling.

“Go, go, go!” William roared, waving the women past him as he positioned himself between them and the collapsing wall. Terrified shrieks pierced the air as they rushed for the exit, clambering over piles of rubble in their haste.

With gritted teeth, William risked one last sweeping glance behind him, his eyes stinging and blurry. But there was still no sign of Emma. A wave of despair crashed over him, threatening to buckle his knees. How could he leave her? How could he abandon the woman he loved more than life itself?

Anguished, William forced himself to turn away, knowing deep in his heart that Emma would never forgive him if he let these innocent women perish for her sake. She was too good, too selfless for that. Her love for others had always eclipsed her own well-being.

Blinking back the hot sting of tears, William ushered the last few stragglers through the mangled doorway, the blistering heat searing his back as the flames licked ever closer. He left them, shoving back through the danger to find Emma and anyone else left behind.