The Risks

June: Chapter 15

Parker and I had not spoken since we left the farmhouse. I didn't want to talk. I could feel his eyes on me every once in a while. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he never did. He must have known there was no point. I just wanted to sit in silence.

I was dreading what I was about to face. I would most likely be seeing George soon. Would I be able to tell him that Oakley was gone? Would I be able to handle that on top of the look of disappointment I was sure to see in his eyes? Probably not. Especially not after all that had happened.

I could see the dark cement walls far before we reached the gates. I could see several men dressed closely to how Francis was -military style- patrolling along the top of the walls. We stopped in front of the cement gates and Parker got out of the car. I stayed inside.

I could hear him and a man on top of the wall shouting back and forth to each other, but I wasn't paying attention enough to make out the words. It was just a drone, but soon the cement doors slid open and Parker got back in the car. We slowly accelerated into the safe zone.

As we entered, I let my eyes scan all our surroundings. A head of us and to the right were some fields growing corn, beans, and maybe wheat? To our left was a strip of buildings that looked like offices, and several patrolmen where marching along, doing whatever they did here. Patrolling, I guess. Out in the distance I could see an abundance of small, square buildings all built with sleek, dark cement. There were a few small windows, neatly and symmetrically placed on them. Houses?

How did they build all this in such a little amount of time?

Parker pulled up to a tall building where waiting out front was an average height man, with buzzed hair, dark eyes, and a scar running against the side of his head. Francis had said something about this man, and I could see what he was talking about. This man looked intimidating, but he also looking kind of terrifying. Next to this man, who I recalled his name was Deacon, stood George. He stood tall and confidently.

Parker got out of the car and walked over to my side, opening my door and offering to help me out. Both the men stayed still with their hands clasped behind their backs. At first I ignored Parker and squeezed my eyes shut. I'd pulled my knees up to my chin again during the drive and I wasn't ready to leave that position. Finally, with a gentle voice and reassuring touches, he convinced me to get out of the car. When George saw that it was just the two of us, his smile faded.

"Where's Oakley?" He asked.

The sound of his voice brought back memories of fear and pain. I shook my head, avoiding his penetrative gaze.

His hands fell limply to his sides and his exposure crumbled. His stance slumped, but he stayed standing. "How could you let this happen?"

I didn't speak. I only stared at my feet.

George's voice shook. "Did you not give her the injection?"

I knew he would blame me. Hell, I blamed myself. I answered him in a monotone voice. "I gave her the last one."

He squinted his eyes at me. "What do you mean you gave her the last one? You lost one?"

"It broke. I gave her the other one."

"What happened?" George hissed, after sharing Deacon's gaze for a moment. He had enunciated each word, anger spilling through his teeth.

I closed my eyes and lowered my head. I didn't want to remember.

Parker chimed in. Thankfully. "She was killed. By a man who said he used to live here. Francis."

George's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he took a step back. I thought he was going to pass out, but he composed himself. Then he looked to Deacon who stood beside him.