Cost of Survival
***
Athol appeared after no more than five minutes of solid walking. Finding a safe place to hole up proved to be more difficult. John refused to let us stay in any stores where food was commonly stocked. The pawn shop and second-hand store didn’t make the cut either since those places traditionally carried supplies.
Bodey and John hadn’t switched me between them. I was extremely comfortable staying in Bodey’s arms. I just hoped he didn’t mind.
John finally settled on the flooring store and when he jimmied the backdoor, I lifted my eyebrows at Bodey. Why would we stay in a carpet store? How odd.
Bodey wiggled his eyebrows back at me and twisted his lips, baring his teeth. I giggled. Held so close in his arms, with my hands hooked around his neck, I refused to believe the proximity was sibling-like.
Would he notice I hadn’t showered in a few days and I probably didn’t smell right? Oh, I could see myself praying about that. The thought kept me from completely relaxing.
“Come in, guys, the building’s empty.” John whispered toward us from inside.
Glancing at me with a normal smile – one which still made my heart leap a bit – Bodey moved inside. He was careful not to slam my head or my feet on the doorjamb.
We waited for John to tell us where to go next. He motioned us further into the store, while he took a few fluorescent light rods and placed them on end in front of the door. If someone touched the door, the tubes would crash to the floor – possibly shatter on impact. We would hear the noise and be alerted to any danger.
John’s resourcefulness might challenge my mom’s.
The moment neared when Bodey would put me down. While I didn’t want to be a burden and I’m sure I was getting too heavy to carry much longer, I didn’t want to lose the connection we formed in those few minutes of being close.
“Let’s try in here, guys. Zero windows and one door, so if we’re careful we could light a candle or something and not worry about being found out.” John led the way deeper into the store. The large cavernous center echoed our steps back to us like a large cave.
The scent of fresh paint replaced damp wood and dry needles and I breathed the change in.
Slabs of tile, granite, marble, and other material hadn’t been touched in the breakdown of the world. Nothing had been disturbed – at least what we could see in the dim lighting. We could’ve been shopping as we walked through the interior. Well, minus the darkness, the late hour, and the lack of salesmen.
Okay, nothing about it was normal. But the ambience felt safer then outside without anything around us. That was as close to normal as I needed to be.
John closed the door behind us in the small room. We stared into the blackness, unadjusted to so much dark even after hours in the forest at night. John fumbled with his bag and after another short minute he brandished a small penlight which lit up the room with its meager beam.
A table ran the length of the wall. Stacks and stacks of carpet samples lined the side and under the counter-space. John retrieved a couple of the rectangles and shoved them under the door where the smallest crack would let even a smidgeon of light out.
Staying out of people’s awareness had never made more sense to me before. We couldn’t trust anyone. What if we came across more like Charlie or some affiliated with his group? What if the people had their own group and weren’t interested in helping us but using us?
Bodey crossed to the table and set me down, allowing my feet to dangle over the edge. I slid my hands slowly down his chest as he pulled away. The texture of his jacket roughed the tips of my fingers. Disappointment must have been pretty obvious in my expression because he chuckled and chucked me under my chin with this knuckle.
Like a friend.
Double crap. For all he knew, I could be the last girl his age alive on earth and he was only giving off vibes reeking of friendship. I tucked my hands beneath my thighs and kicked my feet softly to cover my embarrassment. The movement didn’t hurt when I moved my legs.
School all over again. Great.
John moved around the room purposefully, moving squares here and there into more elongated piles until they took on the shapes of —
“Beds. You’re making beds, John?” I watched him, anxious for him to finish. I would love to fall asleep. I hadn’t slept in for what felt like forever. I could only hold off thoughts of my mom for so long before I lost my emotional grip again. I was tired enough I wouldn’t be awake long to entertain thoughts of loss and loneliness.
“I am. I’ll have you over here and Bodey’s is there.” He pointed to opposite ends of the room. The separation wasn’t lost on me, but he didn’t have anything to worry about. Bodey didn’t seem to think of me like that and it was achingly apparent.
Bodey moved to help me down, but I warded him off with an upright hand. “I’m okay, thanks. I can manage.” The line came from one of Mom’s old movies. Michelle Pfeiffer had amazed me and I often tried being her in one way or another growing up. I always wanted to use it.
Gingerly, I slid from the table, putting most of my weight on the uninjured leg. Hopping toward my pile of carpets, I trailed my hand along the table for stability and to maintain some semblance of dignity. Holding onto pride in that situation couldn’t be more impossible, especially limping away after half-groping a boy you crushed on for an eternity.
His dad saw a problem with us sleeping near each other, but I was in no danger of being bothered by Bodey.
Dang it.
I sat on the stiff stack and stretched my legs, careful not to move my sore knee too fast. John brought my bag to my side and set it on the floor by me.
“Do either of you need to use the restroom?” John waited for our answers. I shook my head. Bodey must’ve too, because John sat on his pile and untied his shoes. “Let’s get some sleep. I’ll head out in the morning and see what I can find.”
I kicked off my boots and didn’t even bother doing anything with my jacket or socks. It wasn’t freezing in the store, but the concrete floor – odd for a carpet vendor – wasn’t putting off any heat either. Lying down, I rolled to my side and wrapped my arms around my waist. I was too tired to care and a little embarrassed. Okay, a lot embarrassed.
A slight weight covered me. I glanced over my shoulder at Bodey. He straightened a blanket over me and smiled softly before padding back to his side of the room.
Unsure what to make of his kindness and certain I was overthinking things, I gripped the edge of the blanket and pulled the soft material to my chin. The added warmth lulled me.
John turned off the light and the immediate darkness left me with nothing to think about. “G’night, you two. Get some sleep.”
“Goodnight.” I murmured, ignoring the tears working down my cheeks. Where had they come from?