Silo

Chapter 26

We hauled it double time back to the silo. I must've looked over my shoulder a dozen times, half-expecting to see the barrel of a gun pointed at my back or the sharp glint of someone's knife hovering by my throat. But each time, I saw nothing, felt nothing but the sharp slap of the wind and a quick shove from Keith urging me along.

The trek back home was cold and exhausting, the fear of frostbite propelling my feet. We stopped only once to swap out our socks. The worn out soles of our boots absorbed the icy slush with a vengeance making each step more painful than the last. I peeled two soaking layers off Meredith's feet, replacing them with the dry socks from my hands. Frustrated or not, I promised to take care of her, and that's exactly what I intended to do.

Meredith smiled and thanked me, then handed them back to me. "I don't want you to be cold."

I put the dry socks back on her feet, silently warning her to leave them in place. Cold was the last thing on my mind. The anger I still felt, the images of Meredith's name smeared across the wall in ash, were enough to keep me warm for days. Even now, surrounded by the familiar chill of our own cement walls and darkened tunnels, I still felt it - that vibration of pure adrenaline deep in my chest.

"Can you believe that jackass? I mean, what kind of idiot rips up a good weapon like that?" Keith bitched as he poured some water he'd heated up into a pot and dunked his feet in.

"The same kind that'd rip up a stat book for the hell of it," Evan answered, jabbing at Keith's bluish big toe to test for numbness.

The same kind who would tear into Meredith week after week, I said to myself.

Keith had given Evan back the pages from his book on the way home, hummed them in his direction with a curt told you so. They were wet and marred, the ink all but illegible. Evan spent a minute trying to smooth them out against his legs before he gave up and tossed them aside.

"That hurt?" Evan asked as he wiggled Keith's toe from left to right. "I don't think it's frostbitten I think you broke it."

Keith swore and shoved Evan's hands aside. "Then stop fucking with it."

"No seriously," Evan continued "Did you ram it into something in the other silo?"

"How the hell should I know," Keith grumbled. "I was too busy trying to keep Jake from ripping my throat out, to worry about what I kicked. If you ask me, he's overly attached to Tyler's stuff."

"Screw you," I said, shaking my head. I wasn't over attached to anything. I just didn't want those assholes having anything that belonged to me or mine. "We never agreed to use Tyler's stuff for bait, you selfish prick!"

Keith smirked, shook his head as he pulled his feet from the steaming water. "Selfish? You have ne clue what you're talking about, Jake. No clue."

"Doesn't matter," Evan interrupted, "It's done, and if Keith is right, then they'll head here soon. We don't have time to be fighting about this stuff right now."

"And I'm gonna make things real easy for them." Keith yanked his boots back on his bare feet and grabbed his knife from the overturned crate. "I'm cutting down your belts, Evan, and giving them an open invitation to walk right on in."

Keith plowed through the hallway, a wave of dark energy pouring off him. I trailed behind him, Evan close on my heels. "Slow down, Keith. Let's think about this for a second."

Keith responded with a what-the-hell-have-I-got-to-lose yell that brought Meredith out of my bedroom and into the hall with Evan and me. I couldn't blame her for being nervous; Keith's mood swings weren't exactly predictable...or rational.

"Don't you think we could use a little rest before we take these guys on? We're already outnumbered!" Evan countered, probably hoping to buy himself some time to plan our defense.

I didn't need a plan; I just needed a knife and a good grip on the bastard. But unfortunately, Evan was right. We'd been walking for hours in an ice storm and hadn't eaten anything substantial since morning. Exhaustion aside, we were all numb, frozen to the bone. None of our bodies were ready for what those guys could bring.

Grabbing Keith's shoulder, I dug my fingers into the muscle, warning him not to head down that tunnel. "You already screwed up once today, Keith. Don't do it again. We wait 'til morning."

Keith laughed, the sound echoing off our barren walls. He pointed a finger at me, the smile vanishing from his face as he shoved my hand away. "Fine, you run off and hide under the covers with your girlfriend. Evan can crawl into his room and draw little stick figures on the wall, maybe create us a map of where everybody should stand when the prick finally shows up."

"Keith," I warned.

He shook his head and pushed past me to grab a jug of water and a can of beans. "You should've let me handle this, Jake. It'd be done by now," he said as he stalked off, slamming his bedroom door.

We all stood there, unsure of why Keith was being such an ass about this. We'd had this argument on the way home. Keith would slow down, turn around, and say he was heading back to take care of them now. Each time, Evan would talk him down, convince him that fighting them on our own turf, with our own cache of weapons, was the only way we had a chance. Standing there, staring at the back of his steel door, listening as he tossed things around and shouted out profanities, I couldn't help but wonder if Keith would still be here when we all woke up or if he'd do what he'd been threatening for the past six hours...go back there and take care of things himself.

I motioned Meredith back into my room, tired and wanting nothing more than to just crash for a few hours. She hesitated, her darting between Keith's door and the hallway leading to the shaft.

"You okay?" I asked.

She shrugged. "You think he's gonna come back out when we're sleeping - cut down Evan's belts? Give them easy access to us...to me?"

Willing to do just about anything to see bring her peace, I did the only thing I could - I lied. "Nah, Keith isn't stupid enough to cross me twice today."

She nodded, her breath evening out and despite the fact that we were sitting in a nasty pit in the earth, waiting for a lunatic to barge in and try to kill us, I felt calm.

I sifted through a pile of clothes we'd taken from the other silo, all the while trying to convince myself I didn't give a rats-ass who'd been wearing them. They were dry and warm - two things I hadn't been in hours. I pulled a red and white flannel shirt from the bottom of the pile and held it up for size. Her gasp caught my attention, and I spun around, saw Meredith stumble backwards away from my door.

"Hey. What's wrong?" I asked, reaching out a hand to steady her.

She didn't answer, but she didn't need to; the tears flowing down her cheeks immediately told me I'd chosen the wrong shirt. That it had belonged to him.

Leading her over to the bed, I knelt down at her feet and ducked my head to meet her eyes. She turned away, sobbing quietly.

"Talk to me," I begged, barely capable of containing my rage, knowing that just the sight of that kid's shirt could make her cry. "God, Meredith, please, just talk to me."

She shook her head, swallowed down another round of sobs and went to move off the bed. I'd be dammed if I was going to let her retreat back into that corner and shut me out again.

I weighed my next words carefully. If I was going to make her tell me the truth, then I wanted to hear all of it, no matter what it meant or what it would do to me."I know about the hat, Merry. I know you have been going through my stuff."

I didn't stop her when she slid out from in front of me, crossed the room, and dug around in her rumpled pile of quilts. She came back, never once lifting her eyes to meet mine, as she placed my hat and her small leather journal on the bed.

"I just wanted to check the names," she said, "wanted to make sure I had them all, that you were who I thought you were."

I stared at her numbly, my mind flip-flopping between confusion and fear. All this time I'd told myself I could handle it, that when she was ready to talk, I'd be ready to listen. Now, I wasn't so sure.