US (Formerly The After Effect - Book 2)

51 - D R A G

//this chapter is iddy biddy, but will probably expand with edits. as always, let me know your thoughts//

When Travis and I enter the inner confines of the bunker, we instantly become the cause of the hum throughout the room. People are staring like I'm a new species at the zoo, but I don't blame them. I'm sure they see me as an enemy in a way. Naturally, people are going to stereotype me simply because my hair is a bright color like Xena's. For some people, I'm grouped in the same category as her and her wicked ways. So be it. All I can do is try to change their opinion by showing them my true self.

The blood all over me isn't necessarily in my favor, however.

I turn to Travis and ask, "Do you know where my mom is?"

He purses his lips momentarily before, "Let's check her room."

We scoot around tables in the Great Room and head toward the dormitories, where even more people stare. I catch some of their comments, and to my surprise, some of them are positive.

"That's the girl who helped get the cure."

"She's Diane's daughter."

But of course, we do pass plenty of negativity.

"She destroyed this place."

"She tried to kill the president."

"Why does she have blood all over her?"

I sort of expect the negativity. Unfortunately, we all give people labels.

The hallways are just as bright white as I remember, but the people seem different. Act differently. As we pass the hall, I notice the open doors, like a welcoming dormitory in a college. People are laughing inside the rooms, talking, being normal. It doesn't feel so much like a prison anymore. The guards must only patrol the perimeter now. I nosily inspect every room as we go by, wondering if I'll catch anyone I know. Jada, perhaps. I'd like to tell her the news. She and her people will be happy, I think.

"Just this way," Travis instructs, waving his arm out casually with his gun. He's been pretty business-as-usual, which is sort of strange for him. I half-expected him to be thrown off by my return, more angry, more something. He's definitely...normalized, too. Maybe he's simply grown used to this life over the past few months, while it's still only been a very long day for me. I wonder how things were while I was gone. Were him and Jada an item? Did he keep to himself? Did he get lonely?

"You're different," I finally say as we take a turn down yet another hall of rooms.

Travis grimaces, the scar over his eyebrow stretching inward. "What do you mean?" He doesn't keep his eyes on me long, and doesn't stop mid-stride either, like I expect to. Normally, when anyone took a shot at his personality, he had a strong opinion about it.

"You're so...subdued," I admit.

"Funny how stress levels can change when you no longer have the threat of being infected and dying every day," he says with a scoff.

I shrug. "You're just quieter than normal."

"I haven't seen you in months. Besides, since when do you need noise to fill the space?"

"I just saw you yesterday," I whisper, staring at my feet as we continue to move. He doesn't hear me; the noise from the citizens block me out.

Still, he asks, "What?" I can tell his attitude is beginning to resurface. The facade of everything being fine and dandy seems to be crumbling a bit. There's something more to his demeanor. What isn't he telling me?

I decide to let it go. The old Travis would be nagging me with questions, but he seems oddly content, so I don't push it. Surely, he has his reasons.

Walking in silence is weird. I mean, really weird when it comes to Travis. Mostly because we aren't in a fight. I guess I assumed things would be different. Then again, I didn't think I'd even be here right now, having killed the guy who started this whole thing.

Travis takes my dangling hand into his as we near the end of yet another hallway, and holds it tightly. My chest flutters at the action, and I'm too flustered to remove my hand from his. "I missed you, Ror," he says slowly, as if his words fought their way out. Then he stops in front of a door and turns to face me. His blueish eyes are cloudy, and as much as I try to get a read on him, I can't figure out what he's thinking.

My eyes rapidly load up on water and pour over, and I reach my arms out to hug him. He wraps his body around mine and squeezes my torso, igniting more emotions inside me. My hands shake as I pull away and he takes them in his own. I can't help but glance at the floor, embarrassed by the sudden smack of sentiments. The reality of it all is hitting me at once.

He grabs my chin and tilts it up so I meet my eyes with his. "You must be terrified right now."

I sniffle and nod.

"They don't get you the way I do, Ror."

"I killed someone, Travis," I say quietly. "I—I—"

"I know," he says calmly, sliding his hands up to the sides of my face.

"He was a horrible guy, but still I..." My eyes travel sporadically, not sure where to concentrate.

"It needed to be done," he adds. "Don't put this on yourself. You did it for the good of humanity. Just think of the magnitude. You saved a ton of people by doing what you did."

I shut my eyes and take a deep breath in. "I know,' I whisper.

"Look, I didn't want to tell you this, but your mom isn't here."

I stare up at him, waiting for an explanation. "What?"

"She's with Jada and a few others. They're part of a squad that injects roaming people. They haven't been by in a week."

I swallow down my tears as my throat dries up. "Oh," is my response. "How long are they normally gone?

Travis's hands fall from my face and he rubs one along the back of his neck. "They should be back any day. They usually replenish supplies every now and again, bring back reports of how many people they find, things like that."

"Why did you lie?"

He sighs. "I didn't want you to be disappointed, even though I get that's what's happening now. I'm sorry. I just wanted to talk to you."

I grit my teeth and stay silent.

"Please, let's talk," he begs, opening the door we've been standing in front of. He steps inside and beckons me into the room nearly identical to the one I stayed in when I was here. I follow behind him, still in shock at the news, and sit on the edge of the bed. Travis drops his gun on the small side table with a clunk and sits beside me. He sneaks his arm around my shoulder as I hang my head. Naturally, my mind shifts to Brink, alone on the ground, surrounded by those rioters. The image of us taking off without him won't leave my mind. This time, I hold back tears when Travis says, "Tell me everything."