Haven (21 page)

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Authors: Laury Falter

BOOK: Haven
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Then Harrison spoke and I realized I was in this fight all alone.

“It’s best if you do quarantine me,” he confessed.

“What?” I shouted. I felt like I’d been gut punched.

He rotated toward me and, in an unsolicited gesture of affection, he slipped his hands along my jaw to cup my cheeks. His contact sent a rush of heat through me. When he spoke again it was tender and meant only for my ears.

“Don’t fight this one, Kennedy. It’s what needs to be done.” I began to argue back and he cut me off. “Let this happen. It’s what’s best for everyone.”

Not you, I wanted to tell him, but something in his face and his imploring request kept me from doing it. He wanted this to go easier, for everyone’s sake.

His hands fell away and he left me standing there helpless and dumbfounded. But he addressed the others as he passed them. “I’ll be in the gym,” he said plainly.

“Someone needs to watch him,” Beverly advocated quickly, before Harrison could get too far. He stopped to look back at us.

“Okay, who?” Mei asked.

“I’ll do it,” Doc suggested. “I have the force to take care of him if he does turn.”

That was debatable, but I held back on that argument because I had another one to make.

“I’ll watch him. I’m the one with the gun,” I replied, “and I won’t be giving it up.” I didn’t want anyone to do anything stupid, like shoot Harrison if he stood up too fast.

“”No, Kennedy,” Harrison said, so unnerved by my proposal that that he returned to the group. “That’s not a good decision.”

“Good or not, that
is
the decision.”

“Fine by me,” Beverly added, as a prompt to get us to shut up and leave. She was still visibly shaken by Harrison’s presence.

Undeterred, I started for the gym. “Come on,” I pressed. “The sooner we get out of here the sooner Beverly can start breathing again.”

That was meant as a joke, but it wasn’t far from the truth.

I didn’t stop, continuing my stride down the hall while listening for Harrison’s compliance. It came after I’d passed the third locker section, which meant he took a good amount of time to deliberate on whether to concede. His footsteps were hesitant and as I caught a glimpse of him in the reflection of a classroom window, I noticed him shaking his head in frustration.

I didn’t care. He was too important to me to allow someone with an itchy trigger finger to guard him.

“Wait,” Beverly said unexpectedly, and we looked back to find her taking the first aid kit from Mei. She began cautiously walking toward us, stopping halfway and setting both kits on the floor. “You’re going to need them,” she said, backing away.

Stunned by her show of humanity, I choked out, “Thanks.” I honestly didn’t think she had it in her.

She nodded, stiff lipped, and her eyes remained pinned on Harrison as I retrieved the kits.

Despite her unexplainable and surprising compassion, I was fuming for almost the entire distance of our walk. Harrison was being wrongly accused. The proof lay in that he hadn’t shown any signs of infection. Granted, this was odd when you considered the number of bites or the simple fact that he was bitten at all and remained healthy and alert. Because of it, he didn’t deserve this punishment, this banishment.

“You’re right,” I blurted as we passed the Teacher’s Lounge. “I do have better control over my emotions. What they did back there was make an emotional decision.”

“Hmm,” was his only response.

I looked up to catch the profile of his smile.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk remaining.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

His refusal left me to come up with my own conclusion as to what could be so amusing to him at such a volatile time. It came to me as we turned the corner and saw the doors leading to the gymnasium’s foyer.

I had been the emotional one, more so than anyone else in that debate. And it stemmed from my feelings for Harrison, which he just got an uninhibited, in-depth look at. That was what brought on his grin. He was entertained by it. Still, he didn’t give up easily on pushing me away.

At the doors, he purposefully blocked them before saying, “Okay, I’m here. You can lock me inside and get back to the others.”

“I’m not leaving you,” I said flatly, hoping to end the argument there, but he didn’t surrender.

“Kennedy,” he said, moving closer, carrying his earthy scent to me. “It’s not safe for you to be near me.”

“You don’t know that,” I argued.

“I have a pretty good indication.”

“You also have a preconceived notion that you’re dangerous, which is impairing your judgment on the topic,” I shot back.

“That’s arguable.”

“Not to someone who’s objective.”

He smirked playfully. “I’m going to respectfully disagree with you about being objective.” My jaw fell open in offense as he continued. “Your feelings for me won’t allow you to be.”

That shut me up and made me feel as if he’d just taken a peek into my soul.

All I could do was cross my arms and reiterate, “I’m staying.”

“Kennedy-”

“I’m staying.”

He drew in a deep breath and somehow came to the understanding that I meant what I said before opening the door. We entered the foyer where he stopped again, opening his mouth to rehash the argument and must have thought better of it. Instead, he said, “Reload your rifle.”

He actually waited for me to drop the magazine and insert a new one.

“I’ll let you know if I start to feel any different,” he said before opening and entering the gym doors, which I appreciated but didn’t see occurring.

The gym was just as vast and empty as it had been on my guard duty rounds, and as usual it made me feel hollow, like the gym itself. Our footsteps echoing off the walls didn’t help much. I was thankful Harrison was with me, which was ironic because we were in the gym because of him. We took a seat on the edge of the bleachers, which Harrison had unfolded at some time over the last few weeks, and I laid the first aid kits out preparing to clean and dress his injuries.

“Gloves,” he insisted. “Wear gloves.”

I obliged, slipping on the latex coverings and going to work on his wounds.

“It’s only for a little while,” I said, trying to be encouraging. “Once you don’t turn, they’ll know you aren’t a risk to them and they’ll see that this ostracism isn’t needed.”

He gave me a look that said he didn’t believe me.

“They knew I was a risk to them long before this morning. Can’t hide who you truly are when you’re living so closely with others…”

“I don’t…I don’t think I know what you mean.” Although I did. Deep down, I did.

“They know I’m different, Kennedy.”

“Then you’ll explain to them how you’re different and they’ll get over their fears.”

He grumbled something unintelligible, but I didn’t press him for an explanation because it sounded like he disagreed with me.

As I cleaned and bandaged his wounds, I couldn’t help noticing the amazing amount of slicing his skin and the muscles below it had suffered, or the fact that he didn’t wince or cry out once. About halfway through, I stopped reminding myself to be delicate.

When the last bandage was secured in place, I found him staring at me.

“Was I rough with you?” I asked, referring to the dressings.

“Yes,” he admitted, “but I didn’t feel it.” And I knew he wasn’t trying to impress me. He was telling the truth. He lowered his head as he inspected the job I’d done, twisting his shirt and showing off the contours of his muscles. When he looked up again, it was me doing the observing. Embarrassed, my eyes immediately fell and I began to replace the medical supplies in the first aid kits.

“You’re right,” I said, trying to seem less anxious over what I was about to bring up by slowly returning the medical supplies to the first aid kits. “They’re going to want to know what you are before they’ll feel comfortable with you walking around the school again.”

And they weren’t the only ones interested. I’d watched Harrison for months before the outbreak. He had mesmerized me with his seemingly unwavering self-confidence, his steadfast self-reliance, and his overall maturity that so many of the boys in my school lacked. And as close as I’d paid attention, he’d seemed out of the ordinary for only those reasons. But there was so much more to Harrison than what he allowed to be seen, and whatever it was he kept hidden below the surface, it controlled him. If only for the sake of unloading a problem, of not having to carry around the burden alone, I wanted him to open up to me. But in a visible sign with how uncomfortable he was with this conversation, he stood up, walked to the wall next to the door, and slid to the ground with an exhale. He propped his elbows on his knees, and his strong, sure fingers slid through his hair to catch his head as it fell. He looked…hopeless, and it made my heart wrench. Suddenly feeling too far away, I strode to him and dropped to the floor too so that both of us were staring out across the gym. I opened my mouth to tell him that he didn’t need to say another word about his condition. It was his prerogative and he should do it when he was ready. But then he opened his mouth and spoke.

“What have you noticed?” he asked, his voice tight.

Seeing no reason to stall, and because I had a sense that it would be some relief to Harrison if I were honest about it, I listed off his obvious quirks. “You eat only raw meat, you don’t feel pain, you have heightened senses, you never sleep, you heal rapidly. You don’t turn into an Infected when bitten, obviously. So…do you want to tell us what you are?”

“Yes, I do,” he said earnestly, only to follow it with, “But I can’t.”

“They’re going to say they have a right to know.”

“Yes, and they’d be correct,” he agreed, standing up and putting distance between us.

“If you agree,” I said softly, “why avoid the issue? Let us help you.”

“You can’t,” he said, dipping his head and shaking it in what seemed to be desperation.

“Why?”

“Because…” He let his voice trail off, searching for words as he stepped farther into the court. A beam of sunlight draped him in a soft, white glow, casting shadows across the contours of his muscles and the hard edges of his face as he stared at the floor. He was amazing and startling at the same time.

“Because…?” I ventured. “You’re nervous about what we will think of you?”

He laughed through his nose. “I’ve never really cared much for what anyone thought of me until I met you.”

That threw me. I blinked, clearing my jumble of emotions, two of which rose to the surface of the turmoil. I felt both honored and sad that we hadn’t opened up to each other sooner. But if there was any juncture to make up for lost time, it was now.

“I don’t know, Kennedy,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly, lost in thought.

“They’ll want an answer, Harrison. I-I want an answer.”

He moved even farther into the court, continuing his contemplation. He stood this way for several long seconds. It felt like everything came to a standstill…my breathing…time…the world itself. For reasons I didn’t understand until he spoke again, it felt like the significance of that moment would change not only how I saw him but how he saw himself. Finally coming to a conclusion on the notions pestering him, he suddenly spun toward me, lifted his head high in a sign of determination, and looked me squarely in the eyes. From across the gym floor, I could see his chest lift in defiance at his resistance and then he said with loud, clear distinction…

“I can’t tell you Kennedy, because no one has ever been able to determine what I actually am.”

And there it was…the truth.

I sat there, stunned into silence, even while the meaning behind his words permeated my shock.
Others knew about his quirks? And not only did they know about them, they tried to figure them out? And failed at it? Who? And what exactly had they done to him to try to find out?
I felt my body prickle with anger as I thought about anyone who would put him through any kind of testing. Harrison had the exact opposite reaction. He drew in another deep breath and released it. When he did, it seemed blatantly obvious that he was letting go of the tension that had built up over years. The strain in his face ebbed away, making him more handsome. How this was possible, I don’t know, but it was beautiful. His lips naturally drew up, exuding a relaxed complacency. The muscles in his broad shoulders and down his arms loosened for the first time since I’d seen him.

He glanced at me and had apparently confused my speechlessness for nervous hesitation. “Don’t worry. I don’t turn into a big green monster when I get mad.”

That made me snicker. It shouldn’t have. Our discussion was serious, I just couldn’t help myself. Before long, he was laughing, too.

When our outburst subsided, I said, “So this is why you stayed away from me…You knew you were different, you just didn’t know why.”

He nodded. “Yes, that would be it.”

I had never felt sorrier for anyone in my life. To want love and to be unable to accept it has to be one of the most devastating heartbreaks possible. And Harrison had endured it for years. Considering this, and understanding all he’d gone through, had I known what effect my next action would have on him, I would never have done it. He’d gone through too much already. But without understanding the impact, I reached into my pocket, pulling out the military briefing memo I’d found in the National Guard utility vehicle, the one with Harrison’s picture and information on it. “Would these be the people who you’ve been working with to figure out what you are?”

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