Twenty-two
Something isn't right. I wake up on the cold floor of a darkened room. Cold air seeps in from an open window and chills my fingers and the tip of my nose. Grains of dirt roll under my fingertips against the wood flooring, and I brush a leaf which crinkles at my touch.
At the sound, there's movement. Not far away from me, a body moves, turning towards me, and I hop up to a sitting position and scoot away quickly. My shirt rides up my back so that bare skin touches a spider web in the corner and I yelp, turning around again and making a big scoot right towards the other body in the room.
Long arms enfold me and pull me close against a hard, warm chest with a quiet comforting shush sound. It's comfortable at first in this dark room in someone's arms, and I lean into him with a sigh. His chin gently touches my temple, scratching at it with a bit of stubble.
I close my eyes. It's Alex. It has to be Alex. Strong, but not large, he even has his legs around me as he quietly shushes me and whispers his apology again. I open my eyes and try to get my bearings. There is a window that has the pane smashed, jagged pieces left sitting in the frame. Outside the window, I catch a glimpse of the next door building, another run down place with shards left where the windows should be and I know right away that this isn't Henri's apartment.
“Where are we?” My voice is louder than I mean it to be. The room is smaller than I expect.
Alex shushes me again, and I get angry. I push at him, digging into his stomach with my elbows and fighting against his arms. They hold me in place like ropes. I can't remember how we got out here. The last thing I remember are his eyes, unnaturally, bright green.
“You used your power on me, didn't you?” I kick at him again, fighting against him even as he tries to hold me down. “You told me you wouldn't.”
“Paula, please.” His breath warms my hair and tickles my neck. Against my ear, his accent is a tiny bit stronger. “Stop. There are others who may hear you.”
I do stop, my breath too heavy to continue. I haven't budged. Alex still has a firm hold on me. “Why Alex?”
“I need your help.” His grip tightens around my ribs and I have to pat his arm and give a wheeze before he realizes how tightly he's holding me. He relaxes enough for me to get a breath and he takes one of his own before he just says, “I need your help to get my daughter.”
In the dark, quiet room, we both sit still. My breath is heavy and my heart beats hard. It's not that I'm completely unaware that Alex has sex, but having a child changes things. He's not just some strange boy, he's a man, a father.
Alex is completely unaware of this shift in my perception of him. He still holds me close as if nothing has happened, waiting for my answer. I don't give it right away. I let my breath return to normal, but my heart continues to beat quickly in my chest. He can probably feel it against his hands knotted together across my stomach. It feels as if my whole body vibrates just from the quickness of my heart beats.
“What if I say no?” My hair hangs in my face as I lean forward, away from him and his warmth and protection. “Will you take me back?”
His answer takes a moment, and when it comes it is barely audible. “Yes.”
I'm not sure I can believe him again. “What is it that you want me to do?”
The cold night air rushes in-between us as he turns his head away from me. “I can't tell you.”
“You can't tell me.”
“There is a telepath.”
I swallow and blink back tears, angry that they appear now when he might mistake them for sad or fearful tears. “You can't tell me because there's a telepath, but you'd like my help.”
Alex doesn't speak and he doesn't move. His grip tightens again and I jab him with my nails to make him loosen his fingers. “It's my daughter,” he says into the dark.
Between my anger and his desperation, we are locked together on the floor in the dark. In the back of my mind, I am aware that there is more. There are things he is admitting he can't tell me, and there is one important thing he has told me. His daughter needs help.
“How old is she?”
His fingers tense against my ribcage. “I don't know. Young. We don't keep time the same as you.”
“You mean the Lost Landers?”
Alex's grip is loose. If I wanted to I could break free from him, but I'm sure I wouldn't get far. I don't know where I am or how to get back, and Alex is faster than me. Plus he's probably trained to hunt, and I'd just be prey to him.
His head tilts forward so that he speaks into the back of my shoulder. “I didn't want to say. I didn't want you to fear me.”
My hand covers his. Somehow being afraid of him hadn't occurred to me as an option, even now when I'm alone with him and being asked for this favor. It should have. Lost Landers are dangerous. They're more savage than the Wildlanders-- more savage than people like Jimmy.
But Alex isn't what I imagined when I pictured a Lost Lander. There is nothing about him that has ever been a threat to me. Henri alone was never good protection. It was Alex, for the most part, who stood in front and stopped others from coming up. He was the one who called Brandon when Aaron stopped by. He's been looking out for me, and it seems the only thing I can do now is return the favor. It's probably what my mom would do.
“All right.” I sigh and close my eyes, suddenly exhausted. “I'll do whatever it is you want me to do to save her.”
Alex crumples. His arms wrap around me again and he lays his face on my shoulder, hugging me without making a sound. I reach up with one hand and lay it on the side of his head, turning my head ever so slightly to press him close. He doesn't speak. I can't tell if he's crying. But we hold still that way for a good while before finally laying down beside each other on the floor. He throws his arms around me and holds me close to him, and I feel myself tear up a bit at the knowing that no matter how close I am to him right now, we're still as far apart as any of the other people I have met already.
It's early the next morning when we wake. Alex runs his fingers gently through my hair, brushing the strands back from my forehead. I catch his eyes before I remember and look away again. He doesn't say anything about it.
We sit up and Alex hands me food to eat. Dried fruits and some dried beef with a canteen to share between the two of us. He was prepared for this trip. Originally, I'd had the feeling that he hadn't wanted to do this to me, but this seals it. Alex always meant to do this to me. I can see it now with a clear head. All his attention these past weeks has been for this purpose.
We're both quiet as we eat. I don't look him in the eyes. The light shining in the broken window is dim still. The sun hasn't even really risen yet. It still hides behind most of the buildings.
We sit in a room with faded wallpaper and a dirty floor. The entire apartment is empty except for some bits of broken furniture I can see past the room door out in the living room. There are no other signs of life here.
Alex finishes his food and takes a swig on the canteen of water which he then offers me. I wave him off, but he is insistent that I drink some after eating and before we head out. For a while that's all we have to say to each other.
My body feels normal. If Alex used his power on me and made me walk beside him, my body should ache. “You used your power on me.”
He presses his lips together and looks away from me again. “Yes.”
“Did you make me walk? My body doesn't hurt.”
There's a tiny shake from his head. “You would have remembered if I had made you walk. I can only control the body.”
He looks down at the ground again, his hands in his lap. The only thing I remember is passing out. Does that mean he carried me out here?
“We must leave.” He says as I take a sip from the canteen. Alex slides his shirt over his head and I can already feel my cheeks doing their thing.
“What are you doing?” My voice is too loud again. Right away I cover my mouth with my hands.
He glances at me and I catch the upturn in his lips when he sees my blush. “They are warnings. The others will leave us alone.”
His hand motions towards the tattoo on his back, the long one trailing from his shoulder blades down his spine almost to the small of his back.
Alex stands up then offers a hand to help me up. I don't think. My hand goes to his automatically, and he holds me as I stand up. When I'm standing, he looks at me before I can think to turn away.
“Stay close,” He says.
I give a nod without needing to speak. Sticking to his side should be easy enough to do.