Shattered Horizon

11 Bo

Chapter Eleven
Bo
My feet pound against the floor as I storm from the room, each step fueled by a whirlwind in my chest. I collapse onto the dusty couch in the living room. Why? Why do I ache for him, this guy I barely know? These few days have felt...infinite. Max should haunt my every thought, but he's a fading echo now. I know there's no going back. He thinks I'm dead, another name on an endless list of losses. A choked sob escapes me, and it's not for Max. It's for Liam, this stranger who somehow reached into my shattered heart and kindled a flame.
"Hey, honey," Joanna said. "Thought you'd be with Liam." She offered a gentle smile.
"Not exactly thrilled with him right now," I muttered.
She settled next to me. "Care to share why?"
Frustration washed over me. Joanna lit a cigarette, the smoke curling in the dim light.
"You think he should've told you? About the bite?" Her voice held a hint of knowing amusement. "And maybe... is there something else? A feeling you don't quite understand?"
I stared at her, stunned. A whisper escaped me. "How did you…?"
Joanna's smile crinkled the corners of her eyes. "Come on, Bo. I'm a mother of five, grandmother to more than I can count! Besides," she gestured with the cigarette, "the way you hovered over him, the worry etched in your face... It's not exactly subtle. Have you told him?"
I shake my head. "He doesn't seem like...that." My voice trails off.
Joanna leans forward, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. "Likes guys?"
"Yeah." I bury my face in my hands. "He looks at Iris like...well, she's gorgeous. Why would he ever look at me the same way?"
Joanna's smile is warm, and her hand finds mine. "Honey, sometimes the heart sees things we don't. Tell him how you feel. You've been through hell together, you're close. He doesn't seem like the type to abandon you for being yourself. And even if it's not..." She hesitates, then her voice grows stronger. "Even if it's not the romance you hope for, look at what you've gained. A true friend, a protector. Someone who has your back, just like you have his."
"Thanks Joanne," I say
"The moment doesn't have to be now," she said, squeezing my hand. "Keep doing what you're doing â€" caring for him. When the time feels right, you'll know."
I nodded, a flicker of hope warming me despite the lingering ache in my chest. Joanna rose to leave, but paused. "Oh, and Bo? Be grateful he's alive. That virus... it could've taken him." Her usually warm features held a trace of worry.
As she left, Lighting hopped onto the couch, his tail a hopeful blur. I scratched behind his ears, and he nestled closer, his body a gentle weight against mine. With a sigh, I lay back. Lighting remained a comforting presence as my eyes grew heavy, and finally, sleep found me.
Later that day, Iris was in the living room when i woke up, she was looking at something,
"How long have I been out?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
"Couple of hours," she replied quietly. She looked down and Annalina fell asleep on her lap on the love seat, A pause hung in the air. "Liam's been asking for you."
I bolted upright. "I'll go see him â€""
"Bo, wait." Iris's voice was gentle, tinged with a sadness I couldn't place. "He's sleeping. Joanna gave him something for the pain."
"Oh." A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I sank back into the chair.
An awkward silence stretched between us. "So... interesting book?" I gestured towards the coffee table.
She hesitated, then passed it to me. "Liam's sketchbook. He has a gift, doesn't he?"
The first pages held familiar faces â€" the cabin, his aunt, his grandfather... then a girl, a pang of recognition hitting me. His sister. "These are incredible," I breathed.
More pages, still brilliant. Then, abruptly, blankness.
I set the book back on the end table, I looked over at Iris, she had a bad few days herself losing her brother and her friends, I was so worried about liam i forgot about her. "How are you holding up?" I asked her.
She met my gaze, the sorrow in her eyes almost mirroring my own. "I feel like I'm adrift," she whispered, her hand absently combing through my sister's hair. "Lost, and I don't know which direction is forward anymore." A choked sob caught in her throat. "Sleep...it's just another kind of torment. The nightmares, they chase me even when I'm awake."
A tremor passed through her voice. "I miss this." She paused, her touch on Annalina's hair gentle, almost reverent. I watched the rise and fall of Annalina's chest, a pang of understanding echoing in my own heart.
"My little sister..." Iris began, her voice barely a whisper. "She'd beg me to do this, sit for hours while she napped, just me brushing her hair." A wistful smile touched her lips, quickly fading.
After sharing those bittersweet memories, a comfortable silence fell. It wasn't the kind born from sorrow, but rather the understanding that some wounds were still too fresh. We didn't delve into the darkness of how our siblings died, just clung to those flickering sparks of joy.
Joanna entered then, settling next to us with a warmth that extended beyond the cozy fire. She began sharing stories of her own family â€" the five kids she'd raised, how two were estranged after a disagreement, and how her youngest daughter was pregnant with her first grandchild.
"Is she...could she still be...?" Iris's voice was barely a whisper, laced with a desperate hope I hadn't seen before.
Joanna fumbled with a new cigarette, her hands trembling slightly. When she finally lit it, the flare illuminated a flicker of fear â€" or was it guilt? â€" in her eyes, quickly masked. "Maybe," she breathed. "Last we spoke... she made it to that survivor outreach, and said her next stop was Florida." Joanna's voice trailed off, a world of worry hanging in the silence.
"But that was five years ago," she added, the weariness in her voice now edged with something like resignation.
"What about your husband?" said Iris interested in joanna story
Joanna stubbed out her cigarette, a frown furrowing her brow. She reached for another, then hesitated, instead rising to retrieve a framed photo from the mantle. Returning to Iris, she held it out. "He'd gotten cancer right before the outbreak," she murmured. "Your grandfather… he was always fretting about the end of the world ending. Built this place with his own two hands." A wry smile touched her lips. "Normally, I don't trust strangers, but you lot...you're different."
She paused, her gaze lingering on Annalina. "That girl… she reminded me so much of my youngest. And then there was Liam, bless that boy, so open-hearted, and kind" she says
"Have you ever thought about leaving, trying to reach her?" Iris's voice was gentle, yet held a sliver of hope.
Joanna hesitated, extinguishing her cigarette. She reached for another, fingers trembling slightly before she paused. "No, honey," she admitted, voice hushed. "The truth is...I wouldn't make it far out there. Not at my age, not with those...things."
"You could come with us!" Iris said, a determined spark in her eyes.
Joanna managed a smile, touched but filled with quiet resignation. "That'd be putting too much on your shoulders." Then, a flicker of vulnerability crossed her features. "See, I have cancer. Beat it once, long ago..." She left the rest unsaid, the specter of its return hanging heavy in the air.
Silence fell, broken only by the crackle of the fireplace. The thought of other diseases, of mortality beyond the monstrous threat outside, was almost staggering. Joanna, who'd survived so much, facing a different kind of end...
Iris's soft sob punctuated the silence. "I'm so sorry," she choked out, a tear tracing a path down her cheek.
"Hush, honey." Joanna's voice was surprisingly steady. "I've made my peace. These last years... I'll spend them right here, in this place I built." A wistful sigh escaped her. "Just wish I could see my daughter again."
The smell of something burning jolted us from the heavy silence. "Oh shoot!" Joanna exclaimed, rushing toward the kitchen.
Iris turned to me, the weight of unspoken questions in her eyes. "What do you think happened to Simon?" she asked, a tremor in her voice.
"I don't know," I admitted honestly. "Let's hope he's alright." I hesitated, wanting to offer more comfort, but unsure what to say.
She nodded, the worry etched in her face. A moment later, she began to hum softly, the familiar melody a shield against the uncertainty.
"I think I'll head upstairs, rest a bit before dinner," I offered.
"Okay," she murmured, the humming never ceasing.
As I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease. It was good to see Annalina offer Iris a sliver of solace these past few days, but the lingering shadows felt heavier than before.
Before reaching my room, I tiptoe into Liam's. He sleeps softly, and an unfamiliar pang of remorse twists in my chest. I ease into the chair beside him, studying his face. How could I stay angry at someone like him? Someone who puts others first, someone who rushed to my rescue without a second thought. It's a kind of selflessness I've never known.
Something compels me to reach out, and my fingers brush against his. He stirs, his grip tightening around mine â€" a reflex, perhaps? "Bo," he whispers, still locked in sleep.
A wave of tenderness washes over me. "I'm sorry," his voice cracks, thick with sleep, then fades back into quiet breathing.
"It's okay," I murmur, though the words feel hollow. Gently, I disengage from his grasp and rise from the chair. My legs feel like lead as I leave his room, entering the one Joanna has offered. I collapse onto the bed, the exhaustion of days seeping into my bones. Yet sleep feels elusive. Thoughts swirl in a relentless storm â€" worry for Annlina, grief for Teddy and Ryan, the fleeting memory of Liam's touch.