ALIVE: The Aftermath Chronicles (Book 1)

Chapter 23 - PRAY FOR US

Through these darkest days, in our final hours, we are reminded that we are nothing. Obsolete, to the universe, to the future. A thousand bottles cast into the ocean, bracing against the tide, flowing endlessly with time. All of our messages inside thin panes of glass. Written, in pleas, our last confessions, or deepest wishes. Then I remember every new day that I see the sun, that we are not alone. God will not abandon us and should He not see us through the end of days on Earth, then He will surely take us home into the house of the Lord.

Rather than send my troubling thought or any news, to the ocean, as we have so many times my dear friend, I send it to you now. Against my best judgements. Against the wishes of Paige, of Isaac, of anyone who is left to care.

We're in trouble, Nick. Alive, for now. I don't know if I'll make it back to them, since I snuck out when I could to give you our most recent news where we've agreed to leave it. We're on the move, we are coming. But we've been taken hostage and these men, these horrible people, are coming with us. If they catch me, I'm dead. If the colony catches me, I'm also dead. I ran all night, traveled alone, to get you this. Please, Nick, I know you're the only one who can help us when we get there. I'm worried about Emma. Prepare for Abel. He's the psycho that's coming with us. He can't be trusted and he has to be killed. Him, and his people. More, than Russell, if you can believe it. Believe me when I tell you it's bad, that he's already killed one of us and hurt another.

I trust you'll know what to do. They'll be there by noon probably tomorrow. Pray for me. Pray for us all. You're our last hope, Nick.

-CC

It may have been the coming of winter, but the temperatures outside the tent wasn't the cause for CiCi's chill. In the night the men move from tent to tent, lifting the front flaps and peeking in on her in their watch. Some tents piqued their interests and they lingered in the entryways. CiCi doubted any of her fellow survivors found sleep this night, with the men violating their space and potentially, their bodies if it weren't for Abel's orders for them to keep their hands off everyone. An order she'd have to trust these perverts would obey, in his absence to retrieve the rest of his people he left behind.

With Isaac, he'd planned to move with them into the colony at Richmond Hill. A sickening agreement, that kept CiCi and Paige furious over in their distrust for Isaac's judgement.

Watching a shadow dwell outside of her tent in the backlighting of the camp fire, CiCi can't breathe. When the shadow brings a dirtied hand to lift up the flap of her tent, creepy older man staring back at her. He sizes her up, remembering well Abel's order to leave her alone, but finding little comfort in it now. His desires flash at her like a tight rope, a dangerous fire sparking higher than that behind him. While the other women might have tomorrow to fear, CiCi had been marked by Abel as his own. She was, after all, his mysterious Eve's protector and therefore, to remain pure....or some insane crap like that.

Knees bent close to her chest, she holds onto herself when the man finally abandons her. If she was going to get this note to Nick, she had to leave soon. Whenever these men went to sleep and stopped circling like starved vultures, she'd bolt. Poor Paige, moaned in agony in the distance. Their stash of medicines raided, Abel refused to give their beloved nurse any relief to the injury he inflicted.

At daylight, they were all to head to the colony. Where, Dalton and Nick stayed unaware of the danger coming into the stronghold.

Keeping her faith, CiCi hoped Isaac could see them through this, and not for his own selfish purposes. If not Isaac, then God would. He'd kept to CiCi's side through a lot of things, so she had to keep the faith He'd help her to safety. Her tiny gold crucifix out and over her shirt, the indent of the cross imprinted into the palm of her hand with how tightly she clenched it whenever a new shadow passed in front of the tent. She prayed, wishing she still had the rosary her grandmother gave her at her first communion and hoped this cross worked just the same to ward off evil.

Backlit in orange from the firelight, each distorted image of the sinister males came and went. Some, lingered outside and outwardly discussed all the possibilities they had for her in their sick fantasies, but none stepped a bold foot inside. She wondered if they waited for her to go to sleep, as she waited for them to do the same and that is what kept them so active in the late hours of the night.

They spoke of Emma too and the words the uttered in their familiarity of her, lead CiCi to suspect a great deal of things and dread their infiltration for her above all. When they found Emma, dirtied, bloodied, and bruised, she spoke of her escape from a horrible group lead by a crazed leader. Connecting the dots as to Emma's condition, these disgusting men, and their reminiscence on what they did to Emma and her sister, CiCi choked on her tears and the bile rising in her throat.

Instead of praying for her own safety, she began to pray for Emma. Whatever courage she lacked before in leaving, is renewed on the pregnant girl and how she came to know such a grim fate.

When a smaller shadow interrupted her prayer and dove into her tent, CiCi's shriek is robbed by a tight hand over her mouth. Relieved, in seeing the blue eyes of Paige.

"He's asleep...Abel...most of his men..." Paige whispers and upon glancing at the fabric of her tent, Cici can no longer see the shadows of men, but hears the voices gathered beyond.

"Where's Emma?" CiCi can't help but ask, since if anyone knew where she was, it was certainly the caregiver.

Paige's sweating, her eyes having almost no trace of pupils in the darkness—concern enough for her condition, but Paige is a survivor. If CiCi were to take guesses on who would survive out of her entire camp, it would be a toss between Nick and the woman before her. Both, seemed to have an unnatural ability to focus on the tasks of surviving and putting whatever plagued them in the back of their minds...almost in a concerning way.

"She's safe. Hidden. I snuck her away when Abel left before. They were distracted. Bastards are terrified of him..."

CiCi responds, "I can see why..."

Paige's lips are dry, parting in frozen movement as she tries to breathe before saying, "He has Russell's nephew with him."

CiCi, not knowing Russell personally, had heard about his nephew from Isaac in his mindless obsessions to get revenge. It had been a plan of his own to kidnap the only living relative the colony's leader, but the barbaric notion quickly was dispelled amongst the group. How thrilled he must be, that a monster did his dirty work for him.

"How?" CiCi can't help but ask, but by Paige's reaction and condition, she doubts she even has that answer, or is finding the necessary time to give it. It didn't go with the task at hand, which meant it was pointless conversation. A silent reaction CiCi got often, when her question proved irrelevant, or in wasting on too much empathy and emotion. Something, she used to take far more personally than she did now.

"If you're going to go, you need to go now." Paige eyes the folded note in her hand. Paper, that everyone in the camp knew often exchanged between Nick and CiCi.

"How did you know..." CiCi trails off, then can't help but smirk to herself with Paige eyes the folded note.

Paige adds, "And I hope you're planning on bringing' that to the colony and not throwing it into the ocean."

Handing her a knife and a pack of matches, CiCi takes what Paige has managed to hide for her.

"I've already got a knife," CiCi whispers, sliding Paige's hand back to her, "You keep it. You're going to need it. I have Nick's."

Taking only the matches, Paige nods as she gladly takes back her only weapon.

"Go, I'll watch your back. Go." Paige whispers after her, as CiCi first heads out, with Paige there to guard the rushed trail behind her.