Apocalypse the Blossoming (The Power of Twelve Book 2) Page 7

"Have you seen them?" he asks suddenly.

  "Who?" I ask.

  "Them," he whispers, emphasizing the word while his eyes go wide.

  I shake my head in confusion. He drops the sponge in his hand and grabs both my arms gripping them tight. It's almost hard enough to hurt. He leans in really close, and I smell his breakfast on his breath.

  "You should leave, now," he hisses. "Before the haunts get you."

  "What haunts?" I ask.

  "All the people who died," he whispers.

  Staring into his eyes, I see madness. While he seemed nice at first, it must've been a cover. There's very little at home here.

  "I don't know what you mean," I reply.

  "Everyone who died here is stuck in a no-man's-land. They're trying to break back through. They get really restless at night."

  The worst part is, even if he is crazy, his words might be true. I've seen too much to doubt anything weird without further proof it’s not for real. It is the Apocalypse out there.

  It draws my mind back to the symbol. An image of it flows through my thoughts, but I try to push it away. I'm worried that thinking about it can trigger the effects Rafe warned of. Especially since my magic has been next-to-useless at fending off anything bearing it. I have to find something I can do to be effective. I can't be this vulnerable.

  "Okay," I say, answering Cordy. "Thank you for the warning."

  He nods enthusiastically, picks his sponge back up, and returns to scrubbing the wall. I go back to finishing the chore I was assigned as well. The rest of our time together passes uneventfully. When we’re done, Efram and I are left alone again.

  "Maybe we should explore a bit," Efram says. "We might learn something useful."

  "Yeah," I agree.

  Anything to keep my mind off the symbol and of what's going on with Rafe and Nathaniel. Doing something with our time is better than sitting around doing nothing—by far.

  Chapter Ten

  Efram

  She veils her emotions, putting a brave face over everything. It's admirable and I appreciate it. But no matter what kind of face she puts on, she can't hide what's really going on with her, not from me. I feel her concerns. It pervades her energy and pounds against me like the waves of the ocean. Almost it makes me feel like a lighthouse trying to hold strong amidst the raging storm of her emotions.

  If the intensity keeps going up she’ll end up with a headache at the very least. I have to find a way to help her relax. I should be able to do something. I know she's not sleeping, and that’s probably the biggest part of the problem. At night I hear her tossing and turning, and sometimes she cries out.

  I wish she would talk to me. Maybe then I could figure out how to help. She's kept herself withdrawn. I'm sure she thinks she's being brave, protecting those around her, because that's the way she is. It’s part of what I love and admire about her. Her heart is bigger than anybody I've ever met.

  "So where do you want to go?" Aviella asks.

  "I thought we’d would go a little deeper into this Bunker. See what else there is here," I reply.

  She nods, pursing her lips.

  "Yeah," she says. "There's something off about this entire place."

  "This was all part of the Wormwood facility," I say. "It’s where the government created most of the monsters that broke loose early on."

  As if in response to my words, another one of the loud screeches echoes through the halls. Something scratches at the walls on the other side of our bunk. Aviella jumps and looks around. It’s a common sound, though it hasn’t been this close before.

  "I'll be really glad to leave this place behind," she mutters.

  "We'll need hazmat suits," I say. “Hunter says some of the areas are still dangerous.”

  Aviella nods. Dark circles are forming under eyes, confirming my suspicion of her lack of sleep. Maybe tonight I'll drain a bit of her energy off, that should help her to get some rest. Of course, if she ever found out I did it, she'd be pissed as hell.

  I debate the merits of such an action while we dress in the protective suits. I still haven’t come to a decision when were ready to move through to the next section of the Bunker.

  We go through a decontamination room, and on the other side is another rough set of tunnels. There are long scratch marks down the walls. Aviella walks over and touches them. She looks over her shoulder arching an eyebrow.

  "I don't think we want to know," I answer her unspoken question. "Let's just hope we don't run into it."

  She nods, and we walk side-by-side through the tunnels. The tunnel opens up and becomes smoother as we walk along. It isn’t long before we enter the next section of the Wormwood facility. The area begins to look familiar, and then it hits me—I've been here before. This is one of the experimentation areas.

  The same pale green, sick-looking tiles decorate the walls. Flickering fluorescent lights cast a dim illumination that doesn’t seem to reach the corners. Massive cages are set around the walls interspersed with heavy chains. Once-sterile metal tables dominate the middle of the rooms, covered in stains. I can only imagine the source of those stains.

  A roar echoes through the room. Aviella jumps and lands in a crouch looking around wildly for the source. The howl continues, growing louder, the sound of it bouncing off the tile walls. When it finally fades my ears are ringing.

  "What in the holy hell was that?" Aviella asks, her voice echoing strangely through the hazmat suit.

  I shake my head and swallow hard. Memories come without warning. I've heard that sound before, and I hope we don't run into it. This may have been a very bad idea.

  "A mammoth," I say.

  "What in the hell is a mammoth?" she asks, rising from her defensive crouch.

  “Something I hope we never run into,” I reply.

  “I take it you’ve seen one,” she says.

  I nod, the memory consuming my thoughts, pulling me into it.

  "Yeah," I say. "A few years ago, I guided a group of survivors through here. This was back when the rails through this area were still working. We were supposed to just pass through, never intending to stop. Something tore up the rails, forcing us to abandon the car.

  “We unloaded here, in this area. I’m certain now it was a planned attack. The first thing we heard was that monster, and then it was on us. No one with me had any fighting ability.”

  Aviella places a hand on my arm. She looks up into my eyes through the plastic plates separating us, our protective gear. I stare into her eyes, losing myself in her. It helps push away the darkness of my memories.

  “What happened?” she asks.

  “I tried,” I say, swallowing hard.

  Aviella nods. She tightens her grip on my arm and touches the side of the headgear covering my face.

  “Go on,” she says, encouraging me.

  “It was the worst thing I’ve experienced. I lost all of them. I fought with everything I had. My magic wasn't strong enough to save them. The mammoth… I hope you never see one."

  "You did what you had to do," she reassures me.

  "Yeah," I agree. "That's the problem. I survived; they didn't."

  "I understand," she says. "I still think about Bunker E247. What else could I have done?"

  Her eyes drop away from mine. The sadness and the loss are palpable in her energy. This is the source, as much as anything, of her worry. It's a testament to her heart. So many people still alive at this point in the Apocalypse care about nothing but themselves. Not Aviella. She's always worrying about everybody around her, and not just those closest to her.

  My hearts pounds and my breath is coming in ragged gasps. I can't ignore my arousal. My desire for her is both physical and spiritual.

  No, I can't give in. No matter how much I want to. I know I'm bound to her. There's no question about that. When she looks up at me, her lips flushed, it takes every effort of my will to not pull her into my arms. No matter the suits protecting and separating us I want to, take her. Claim her, but more than
that I want her to claim me, physically to match the way she has marked my soul.

  I turn away. I can't look at her and resist my baser urges too. Having her bonded to me as a companion is safe. If she goes any further, I don't know where we would end up. It could have consequences, ones I'm not sure I'm ready to face. I'm afraid I would lose myself in her.

  Give it more time, I reassure myself. It's what I've been doing or at least trying to do. It's just been so damn hard.

  We continue exploring this section of the tunnels. It helps to focus on something else, anything besides her. She's so damn beautiful. I didn’t know that anyone, anywhere, at any time could make a hazmat suit look attractive, but Aviella pulls it off.

  This section is deserted as far as we can tell. We find no other survivors. Turning a corner we come to a dining area with vending machines. None of the product inside seems to be any good. We continue the explorations, hoping to find something useful. My main idea behind this was giving her something else to focus on besides her worries. Get her out of her head a bit. At least that part seems to be working.

  "What do you think is over there?" she asks, pointing to a door that leads into a dark area.

  "No idea," I say, shrugging. "How about we find out?"

  I don't want to admit to her that I'm nervous. I don’t want to run into one of those mammoths. Aviella is powerful and I don’t doubt that together we could handle it, but why take the risk? The memories of my last encounter haunt me. So many lives lost, and their blood is on my hands.

  Aviella is fearless, as usual. She walks towards the darkness beyond the door and I follow. I’m enthralled with her. I can’t tell her no, and I know it. I’m hers to command, even if I will only admit that to myself. Realizing how entwined I am with her is frightening in its own way. I’ve never been dependent on another like I am her. The closest was my sister and losing her was almost the end of me. If anything happened to Aviella, I don’t know what I would do. The thought is so dark, my stomach turns and I have to push it away.

  The light from the previous room casts weird shadows into the one we enter. Hydroponic tables line the walls, growing food, but something is off. The growth lights aren’t casting light but there are plants growing on the tables. They look like food. Lettuces, tomatoes, cauliflower and other items but how are they growing without light? Aviella walks over to one of the tables, moving slowly, and I follow her. She feels it too, I know. Everything about this area is wrong, like so much of Wormwood. Wrongness pervades the whole place, creating a constant assault on my awareness.

  “How?” she mutters, leaning over the table to look at the growing plants.

  "I don't know," I say, joining her and looking closer.

  "It's wrong," she observes. "It feels off."

  She passes a hand over the growing table, and I would swear that the plants vibrate as her hand passes over them. It's creepy, and a further testament to the wrongness of what's happening here.

  "We should be careful about what we eat while we're here," I say.

  "You think?" she asks, sarcastically.

  There's a sound behind us and we turn to look. Hunter walks into the room. His wild eyes stare at us but not from behind the protective gear of a hazmat suit because he's not wearing one.

  "Y'all need to get out of here," he says. "This area is off limits right now."

  Aviella and I exchange a glance before nodding.

  "Yeah, no problem," I agree.

  He steps to one side of the door letting us pass. He has his arms crossed over his chest, and despite the feelings of anger and upset rolling off him, he has that same crazy, fixed smile on his face. He stares as we leave and head back the way we came. After we've walked a short distance, I look over my shoulder and see no sign of Hunter.

  "That guy can't be human," Aviella says.

  She holds up her arm and points at the badge there that indicates the radiation levels. It glows a deep red, which means no human can survive in this area.

  "He's definitely something… more," I agree. "I have no idea what though."

  Aviella nods. "Yeah. I hope Nathaniel and Rafe are home soon. I'm ready to leave."

  We make our way back to the decontamination chamber, where we take off our suits and then head back to the bunk we were assigned. It's been a long day and we’re hungry, so we stop by the commissary. When we walk in, there are a handful of others eating.

  I buy some food from the vending machines, carefully picking stuff that looks like it's prepackaged only. Once I pop it out of the microwave, I take it to the table where Aviella is sitting waiting. The resident who was talking to her before, Cordy I believe his name is, is standing before Aviella.

  "The haunts always test the new ones. Don't let them into your heads," Cordy says, grinning.

  "Thanks," Aviella says, her eyes darting to me.

  "No problem," Cordy says. "Just trying to be helpful."

  "I appreciate it," Aviella says, taking the food I offer her.

  Cordy wanders off, leaving Aviella and me alone.

  "What was that?" I ask.

  "It's something he's been talking about. He says everyone who has died here is stuck in a no-man's-land and haunts this place."

  "Great," I say. "Because dealing with all the government-experiment creatures wasn't enough."

  "Hey, what would our life be if it wasn’t exciting all the time," Aviella says with a grin.

  Chapter Eleven

  “They should have been back by now,” I complain, slamming my hands down onto the bunk.

  I’ve been lying here for what feels like hours, waiting. Since Hunter cut off our explorations, we’ve been hanging out in the bunk. I’m worried and I’m bored, never a good combination.

  “They’ll be back soon,” Efram answers, his voice reassuring.

  “Yeah, but when?” I ask. “We need to get out of here. This place is creepy.”

  “I know,” Efram agrees. “It won’t be long, I’m sure.”

  “Ugh,” I grouse.

  As if to enhance my desire to no longer be here, there’s another long, drawn-out roar filling the hallways and echoing off the walls. I arch an eyebrow at Efram letting the noise affirm my position. Efram shrugs and shakes his head.

  “What can we do?” he asks. “You know they have to find a safe path. This is our best option right now. Patience is a virtue.”

  “Patience? How long have you known me?”

  “Right, bad choice of words,” Efram replies. “How about we play some cards?”

  “Just because I’m agreeing to do this doesn’t mean I like it,” I say, swinging my legs over the edge of the bunk and jumping to the floor.

  “Noted,” Efram replies.

  He pulls out a deck of cards from one of his pockets and shuffles them. His fingers are deft and quick. I take up my hand that he deals to me and look it over. We play a couple of rounds both of which I win. I suspect he’s allowing me to because it doesn’t seem like he’s trying very hard.

  The girl, Mina, walks in with both of her arms loaded with clothing as Efram deals our third hand. She looks around nervously, swallows hard, and motions up and down with her arms.

  “Hi,” I offer, hoping to reassure her.

  She trembles and her eyes dart all around avoiding making contact. She swallows hard and her mouth opens as if she’s going to say something, then snaps shut. Another tremor, she nods her head repeatedly, then her mouth opens again.

  “Hunter says,” she says, her voice quavering, “you should wear these.”

  She motions with the clothing in her hands then holds them out in front of herself.

  “Wear them where?” I ask, confusion rising.

  It doesn’t look like protective suits that she’s carrying, hell one of them looks like a dress.

  “You’re to come to dinner,” she says, her voice still trembling.

  Efram and I exchange a glance. Going to dinner with Hunter is the last thing in the world I would want to do, even if we h
adn’t stumbled across the weird hydroponic garden. The fact that he wants us to eat food here, that doesn’t bode well.

  “I don’t think we’re going to be hungry,” Efram says.

  Mina looks at him with wide eyes, meeting his gaze for the first time. She shakes her head and her lips tremble.

  “No,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Oh, no.”

  Her fear is palpable, rolling off her in waves. It makes me feel sorry for her. When I see tears welling up in her eyes, it’s more than I can stand. I rush over and embrace her. She stiffens, but I continue to hold her. It isn’t long before she relaxes, and the tears are flowing down her face.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “You don’t say no,” she says. “It doesn’t happen. No, you can’t say no, no.”

  She’s shaking her head violently, emphasizing each time she says the word no.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll be at dinner. What time should we be there?”

  “One hour,” she says.

  She pulls herself out of my embrace and wipes at her tears. She nods and then turns walking away without another word. Efram and I look at each other, and I just shake my head. There are no words.

  I pick up the dress and hold it up. It’s nice, and not nearly what I was afraid it would be. I had half-assumed it would be some kind of a slutty show-off piece. The fact that it’s not brings its own form of relief. The dress is a nice teal and it’s covered with sequins but doesn’t leave anything exposed that shouldn’t be. Resigning myself, I go to dress for dinner.

  When we walk into the dining area, it has been transformed into a sad attempt at a royal dinner. Various pieces of cloth are draped around the walls in a mishmash of colors that don’t go together. The tables are lined up into two long rows leading the way up towards a single large table that has been set on top of a stack of pallets.

  The people of Wormwood Bunker are dressed in a mishmash as well. While at first glance they appear to be well-dressed, closer inspection reveals the flaws. Everything they have on is worn and has been patched multiple times. I noticed when I was putting on the dress that was sent to me that it was very threadbare. I assumed it was because they were stretching, and I was not a citizen, but being here tells a different story. They’re barely surviving.