Death By Dawn

➽Chapter 9

Soon night scattered stars across the sky. 

The sun had fallen under the horizon and the moon rose to the occasion. Clouds lined the sky overhead, the gray boats slowly sailing across the night, dragging their various silhouettes with them.

Alexander glanced over at Elaina, her cloudy breath and slight shiver alerting him of her state. It was obvious that she was cold, the oversized shirt that hung from her shoulder definitely did not provide warmth. He tittered and shook his head.

She's something else. Really won't leave until I'm ready huh?

"You cold huh?" Alex asked, leaning a bit closer, nudging her shoulder playfully.

"Just a bit but I'm fine." Her voice was low, a bit solemn compared to her usual cheery self.

"If you're cold, we should head back Elaina."

She remained silent, taking a deep breath before releasing it into the world, her eyes closed as she did.

"So do you want to?" Alex questioned, his pitch high and awkward, and his eyebrows arched.

"Yeah, sure I guess. You have to be assigned to your sleeping area anyways." Elaina sighed.

"Guess I didn't really think about that. Probably wondering where we are by now."

Alexander rose to his feet, offering Elaina a hand as she mimicked his action. He watched as she dusted her jeans off and headed towards the yellow ladder. 

She made her descent to ground level, avoiding the rusted patches that dotted the sides of the ladder's frame effortlessly, a proof of familiarity, a skill developed from routine.

"You coming slow coach?" Elaina called out.

Alex looked down at her. She seemed so much smaller than she really was, making him chuckle softly before proceeding down.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming tiny tot." He retorted as he navigated his way down.

"Shut up!" Elaina hissed, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting. "I'm not even that short!"

His feet contacted the ground, his body turning towards her with a smile prodding at his lips. His eyes wandered deep into hers as a silence engulfed the moment. Alex stepped closer, resting his hand on her shoulder and tilting his head. 

He took in all the freshness of the air, holding it briefly as if he was savoring its purity. He exhaled, reveling in the peace that dwelled in him. He parted his lips, his words filled with sincere gratitude.

"Thank you for this." 

➽~➽

He twisted and turned, uprooting himself over and over in a desperate hunt for a comfortable position, but the harsh concrete was too solid for his back, and sleeping on his stomach was not an option. 

The only barrier between him and the bareness of the floor was a cardboard box, stripped into sheets to make a surface to rest on, but this was not enough. 

He simply could not sleep, not in these conditions, but truthfully, these conditions were kind for the circumstance. He really could not expect a king-sized bed, could he now? 

Alexander had been assigned to the fifth storehouse, standing apart from the others with the strip of yellow at the top, right above the bold number '5' that lined both entrances. Each of the storehouses had been color-coded and numbered, compliments of their former owner, ranging from one to eight. Both entrances were suited with metallic roll-up doors, benefiting the survivors by offering additional protection.

In the fifth storehouse, he was accompanied by nine of the twelve other males, keeping them all separated from the women who occupied the fourth.

Those who had been missing from the storehouse had been out patrolling, safeguarding those in the compound from zombie and human threats alike.  

In addition to the bottom floor that was lined with shelves of empty cardboard boxes, there was a mezzanine office above, its white walls contrasting with the surrounding steel. It had about three windows from what Alexander could see from the dim light that four lamps provided. 

The inside was blessed with a brighter light, outlining Cap's figure working diligently, but Alex could not locate the source of it. Inside seemed to be repurposed from the old overseeing post, various zombie survival charts now stuck up against the walls, only visible from the distance because of the bold, black permanent marker that it was written in. 

He sat up, drawing his legs closer to his chest as his eyes scrambled around the dark room, some parts so absent of light that he felt as if his eyes had been closed.

There was a deafening silence that controlled the storehouse, a quietness that allowed him to hear the slow, steady beat thumping against his well-defined chest.

A quietness that brought recognition to the barely audible sound that came with every blink, signifying his need, and yet still, his lack of sleep. The sound of each swallow flowed through his ears but those were the only things he could hear.

Outside of him, nothing made a sound.

The approximate ten feet between each man made even the sound of their soft breaths inaudible, even after he strained his ears and held his own breath to hear.

The silence was too much to bear.

Alexander sighed, glancing at the seemingly floating office one last time before laying himself flat again. He looked into the void, raising his hand upwards to reach out and connect with it. He opened his mouth, but his words lodged in the back of his throat, refusing to let go.

He clenched his fist, a determination firm behind his action. A deep exhale broke the silence of the room and his voice muttered a promise, one that he intended to keep no matter the cost. It was a promise that held the greatest level of importance to him now that the love of his life had been taken from him.

Even if the task was impossible, he needed to hear the words out loud.  He would give his all to accomplish it but even if he couldn't fulfill it, hearing it outside of his mind was therapeutic at the least.

"I'll find you, Mom and Dad, I swear it!" He breathed, closing his eyes and dropping his hand to rest on his chest. 

I know you two are alive.

Dad would fight death itself for you Mom.

And you, you promised that meathead that you'd never leave his side.

His mind wandered freely as he counted the seconds until dawn came, until the break of day that would free him from this darkness, both literally and figuratively, but one thought proved to be a recurring theme throughout the night.

One thought that shouldered the weight of loss.

One that struggled with a lifetime of regret.

I won't be too late...not this time.