“Don’t be,” Sam says.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Trent asks, his words almost indiscernible. I think his face is seriously planted in his pillow.
“Absolutely not, never, no, thank you.”
“Cool. Can I take this opportunity to say that I find it insulting that our guard is sleeping on the job?”
“Are you going to try to break out?” Sam asks him, already sounding like he’s falling back asleep.
“Not tonight.”
“Well then I’m going back to sleep. Let me know when you’re breaking out.”
“I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“Goodnight, guys,” Ryan says. It sounds like a warning.
Either they listen or they’re already asleep again. Doesn’t matter, they don’t respond.
“You okay?” Ryan whispers, his voice barely making a sound. It’s more of a stirring of his breath near my face.
I shake my head, feeling humiliated and small. “Apparently not.”
“What’s wrong?”
I close my eyes hard, pinching them shut until I see bursts of light against the backs of my eyelids. A tear slips from the corner of my eye and runs down the side of my face. I cringe when it lands in my ear.
“I don’t know. I think I had a dream.”
Ryan settles on the floor beside the bed, his arm draped over my stomach. His hand is tracing slow circles on my forearm.
“A nightmare? Was it about the Risen?”
I chuckle darkly. “You mean the zombies?”
“Infected?”
“Undead?”
“Humanly challenged?”
I sigh, amazed that I’m actually smiling through my tears. I open my eyes to find him grinning at me.
“I think it was about my dad,” I hear myself say.
I don’t tell him that it was about my dad on Christmas day. That it was the same dream I always have and always ignore. The one about the tree, the door, the lights, the neighbor, the doll, the screams, the blood, the keys, the car, the days, days and days of being alone with nothing but my pink Hello Kitty bag full of snacks and treats left over from our road trip to grandma’s house. That I never opened the door. That I peed in that car, in addition to other things. That I found my dad’s iPod in the center console and I clung to it, silently sang the songs I knew were on it, but I never plugged it in, never listened to it because I knew if I made a sound or shone a single small light they’d find me. I don’t tell him that they found me anyway. The Risen, the zombies, the infected, the undead, the sons of bitches that stole my light. My life.
I don’t tell him, but I know when he looks at me that he understands it. He gets it because he’s lived it. And because he sees me, like really sees me, and I want to hide from him but I don’t. I don’t because it’s not so bad being seen. Not when it’s by the right person.
“Joss, I’ll sit here with you until—“
“Can I sleep down there with you?”
He’s shocked. Me too, but I meant it. I mean it. I want it.
“Can I?” I press when he doesn’t answer, only stares.
“Yeah, yeah, of course. Yeah,” he stammers, making me smile faintly.
I grab my blanket and pillow then slide down onto the floor, onto his narrow mattress beneath me. When I lay down on my side facing the cage door, I feel him hesitate. I think he’s scared. Scared of scaring me and I’m worried about it too but I want to know. I need to know if I can have him close like I think I want him to be and not freak out. Not break into a sweat or scream or run or punch him in the eye. I want to see if maybe it won’t be bad at all because I think, I hope, it will actually be better.
And it is. When he lies down beside me, the length of his body running from my feet to my head, I feel safe. Secure. Like I’m open and vulnerable but it’s okay because my back… my back is covered. It’s against the wall. Against him. So when his arm hesitantly drapes over my side, I grab his hand in both of mine, pull it up against my chest and hug him to me hard. He’s so close, so close. It’s suffocating but I push past it because it’s worth it and I want it. I want this. I want him. I want me when I’m with him, when I’m strong and I’m fighting and I’m trying for other people. When I’m alive and I’m hopeful and I’m not just surviving. I’m living, I’m laughing and I’m in lo—
“Wakey, wakey!”
I snap awake, my body jerking in every direction. My elbow hits a hard surface and I hear a shout behind me. I roll across the floor, look at where I’d been laying and see Ryan lying on his back with his hands clasped around his face.
“Jesus, Joss!” he cries.
I tentatively reach out to him, not sure what I plan to do to help. “Did I hit you?”
“Yes, you hit me. You elbowed me in the mouth. Who wakes up like that?”
I drop my hesitant hand and glare at him. “A girl who grew up in the wild, that’s who. You shouldn’t have been so close.”
He stares at me in shock over the top of his hands still clutching his face. “You were holding onto me!”
“Is anything broken? Are you missing a tooth? If I knocked out a tooth, don’t swallow it.”
“You are the worst,” he grumbles, sitting up.
“What do you want from me? I’m not a nurse and I’m not especially maternal.”
When he drops his hands I see his lip is swelling on the right side. I got him good and it makes me feel awful inside. Sick in the pit of my stomach.
“An apology would be nice,” he says.
“Ryan, I’m sorry I hit you beca—“
“Nope, that’s enough,” he interrupts, putting up his hand to stop me. “If you keep talking you’re going to turn it around on me and the apology will mean nothing. Let’s leave it at you’re sorry you elbowed me in the face.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
“I am sorry.”
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know you didn’t.”
“I overreacted. I was wrong.”
He grins. “Alright, Joss, don’t hurt yourself.”
“If you two are finished,” Taylor calls from the doorway, “I’d like to get started so we can get it over with and I can go do something else.”
“Like play Donkey Kong?” Sam asks, rubbing his eyes.
Taylor glares down at him. “Were you sleeping?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“Yes.”
“Perfect. They could have gotten out. Killed us all in our sleep.”
“Nah, they’re cool,” Sam says, leaning back against the wall, completely unconcerned. He points to me. “That one is seriously damaged. No offense.”
“None taken,” I say through gritted teeth. He’s not wrong, but still…
Sam points to Ryan. “He’d never go anywhere without her and she’s here for something. Needs something. Neither of them is going anywhere. And him,” he says, pointing at Trent. “I’m pretty sure he could have gotten out whether I was here or not, awake or asleep or dead. If he wants out, he’ll get out.”
“Your job was to watch them, not sleep.”
“Are they still here? Then I did my job. I’m grabbing breakfast.” Sam jumps up, heading for the door. He stops to point at me again. “Princess has requested eggs over easy, by the way.”
With that Sam is gone and Taylor is shooting me daggers. I shrug.
“I mean, I wouldn’t turn them down.”
He shakes his head, leans into the hallway and shouts, “Bring in the med cart.”
Ryan leans against the bars of our cage, standing beside me. Trent comes to stand beside him.
“What’s the med cart?” Trent asks.
Taylor waves his hand. “Nothing major. We want to take some samples. Well, not we. The nurses and doc want samples. I want you gone.”