I paused, seeing a shadowy figure stick his head through the shattered glass windows of the front entrance. Abel stopped beside me and we both crouched. Before we could move closer to the wall, the outline of the man crouched too, disappearing beneath the wall. And then called out, loud but hesitant.

  “Cain?”

  “Barclay.” I said quietly, then repeated it, just loud enough for him to hear me.

  I ran to him, motioning to my brother to follow. I hugged Barclay without thinking about it, and it was only when he swore quietly that I jumped back, noticing in the dim light that his left arm was in a sling.

  “Shit, sorry,” I whispered to him. “What happened?” He waved me off with his good hand and jerked his head towards my brother, who had walked behind me.

  “Oh, this is Abel,” I told Barclay. “My brother.” I gestured to Barclay. “Abe, this is Barclay. He’s the one who—well, he saved my life.” I added, wanting to elaborate but knew this wasn’t the time.

  “She exaggerates,” He says. “But we shouldn’t hang out here. Abel — Abe, you’ll be welcome here. C’mon.” A tension that I hadn’t noticed seemed to leave Abel’s shoulder as Barclay spoke. Had he been worried about that? I wondered how I had missed it.

  We stepped through the windows, not bothering to do the special knock that the group used on the main door for the guard to let us in. Barclay had already told the guard to hold the door. So the guard, I think her name was Marcy, let us into the building.

  “We have plenty of resources,” Barclay told Abe as we climbed the stairs. “We do require mandatory training in order for you to stay. But you seem like you’re in pretty good shape.” He jerked his head towards Abe’s side. “We’ll make sure that gets looked after, of course.”

  Abel gave him a wide smile and while the exhaustion showed in his eyes, I could tell the relief and gratitude was genuine. I ducked my head, smiling to myself.

  We took him up to the 8th floor where I had stayed when I was injured. It was a lot more prepared now with cots and actual medical supplies that had been collected on various runs. Of course, none of the technological stuff worked. But the blood pressure cuffs could be worked manually, and pulses could be measured the old-fashioned way with wind-up clocks or watches to keep time.

  I made sure Abe was settled and someone had checked his stitches. I had asked one of the workers to get us some food from the kitchens, since we had missed supper. They’d promised to grab something for him.

  Barclay and I were ushered into what amounted to a waiting area, and I slumped down in a chair, tossing my bag at my feet. After a moment, I sat up and turned to Barclay who was still standing.

  His face was rough, unshaven for at least a few days. His eyes were tired, but calm, and looked okay even with a few new scratches on his face. His arm was in a sling, and I saw now that it was bandaged too. His clothes were dirty and torn, and it looked like he hadn’t even bothered to shower or change since he got back. But he also looked — good, somehow. I shook away that thought before it could go anywhere.

  “So, what happened to you? Why were you at the front entrance?” I kept my voice down, so I didn’t disturb those who were sleeping nearby on this floor. Gesturing to the padded chair beside me, Barclay took a seat, sitting down heavily. He ran hand down his face and through his hair, wincing. Whether from actual pain, or just the feeling of dirt, I wasn’t sure.

  “We ran into some trouble and headed back early. We found the messenger we had sent back…” His voice trailed off, and I pursed my lips. Someone hadn’t made it.

  “No one you knew.” He added quickly, though it didn’t help much. Someone was still dead. “We sent the messenger on the second day, and turned back on the third. We followed the same path heading back, and,” He stopped to rub the back of neck, muttering something about “not protocol”.

  I looked down, but stayed quiet. I realized after a moment that he might think I was judging him.

  “It’s not your fault.” I told him simply, meaning it.

  “Doesn’t matter. Anyway we found him, and someone had shot him. We were making our way back when I stopped to—“

  “Help someone.” We said together and I grinned at him. Of course he had stopped to help, he always did.

  “They were okay,” Barclay continued. “They had gotten trapped by a building that collapsed. I was in a rush to get them out and wasn’t watching. I moved a rock, but then more fell and I broke my collarbone trying to protect them.” He sighed, “I got them out with the others help. The person we rescued didn’t want to come with us.” Barclay laughed. “Probably a good thing, since Jason would be unhappy if I brought seven more people back at once.” He goes quiet for a moment.

  “So, they figure six weeks in a sling. Kitchen duty for me, I guess.”

  “I’m not sure we’ll survive on your cooking skills.” I tease him gently. He smiles back.

  “I’m not that bad.” He defended himself. “At least I didn’t burn anything.” I tried to smile back at that, but his comment made me think of the nightmares again. Barclay must have seen something on my face.

  “Sorry,” He said immediately.

  “Don’t worry about it.” And I hoped he wouldn’t ask about it, and he didn’t. Barclay was good for that.

  “How did you find your brother?” He asked instead. “I didn’t even know you had a brother.”

  “I ran into him, he had stolen something and had a group after him. We hid at the bridge for a bit, then headed back.” Barclay frowned.

  “Why were you out there in the first place?” I paused, not sure I wanted to tell him the truth.

  “You—I mean, your group, hadn’t made it back yet. I told them I’d do a quick search for you.” Barclay nodded, but I wasn’t sure he bought the half-truth. I hadn’t even let myself think of the real reason I had been out there.

  “Did he tell you what was in his bag?” Barclay asked, and now it was my turn to frown. Why did that matter? “I only ask, as he can’t bring anything dangerous in here.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Oh,” I say, relieved. “No, it’s nothing dangerous. I promise.”

  “Okay, I trust you. Anyway, are you good? Can I get you anything?” I shake my head. “Food?” I shake my head again. “I’m too tired to eat.” Barclay nods.

  “I feel like I should be asking you that, with your arm and everything.” He grins at me, but looks tired.

  “Well, if you’re good, I’m going to go grab a shower and a change of clothes. Make sure you eat something.” Barclay said as he got up and left.

  “Yes, sir.” I called out after him, resisting the urge to mock salute. Barclay turned around, walking backwards, and rolled his eyes dramatically at me before turning away again. I laughed.

  Following the hallway back, I knocked on the door to Abel’s room.

  “Come in,” He called out. “Hey,” He said when he saw me. “All good.” Motioning to his side. “They said you did a good job with the stitches.” I smiled and sat down in the office chair next to the wall.

  “So, are you all settled in enough for me to go find food and a shower?” I ask him.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll see you tomorrow, you should get some sleep.”

  “Okay, you too.” I went to turn around but Abel spoke.

  “Hey, wait,”

  “Yeah?” I turned back to face him.

  “He seems like a good guy.” Abel gestured to the hallway. “Barclay.” I nod, and grin despite myself. But he’s my brother, so I know what he’s really saying.

  “He’s just a friend,” I tell him, and Abel nods but I can tell he doesn’t believe me.

  “Night, Abe.” I say, and I close the door behind me. As much as I want to catch up with him, and don’t want to let him out of my sight. I tell myself to breathe. He’s injured, and needs to rest. And I tell myself there will be time to catch up with him tomorrow, after we’ve both slept. Plus, the medical staff were already hovering, trying to usher me out since others needed sleep too.

  It was only after I was getting into bed, having had some warm oatmeal, that I realized Barclay had never answered my question. What had he been doing out at the front entrance earlier? Especially if he had just come back from a supply run?

  But the urge to sleep was too strong, so I climbed under the covers, and tried to ignore my thoughts. Tomorrow would be laundry day for me, and I had to be up at 6am.

  I awoke at 5:38am, according to the windup clock that sat on the desk in my room. Quickly changing and brushing my hair, I figured I’d have enough time to grab a quick breakfast.

  Running down to the Kitchen, I spotted Cher, thankfully sitting a bit away from anyone else, and I grabbed a bowl and some dry cereal, joining her.

  “Hey,” She says as I take a seat. “I can’t stay long, I’m starting a training class at 6.”

  “Yeah, I’m due in the laundry room at 6, too.”

  “Yikes,” She says grimacing. “I hate doing laundry.

  “Well, I hate push-ups.” I retort and she laughs.

  “Yeah, you and everyone else that I train.” She sticks her tongue out at me, and gets up, taking her plate back. “Well, enjoy your laundry.” She says, scrunching up her face and walking away. I take a few more bites of dry cereal and she waves to me as she walks by again, heading to the training room.

  Finishing my food, I take my bowl up to the return counter and check the clock that is placed on the kitchen counter. It’s two minutes to six.

  I walk out of the kitchen so I don’t draw attention to myself, but I take the stairs two at a time to floor seven. With floor eight being the hospital, it made sense to have the laundry room below it. Even though it meant moving all the water required for laundry up all those stairs.

  Walking in, Elena greeted me. She was a larger women, and about ten years older than myself. But she was kind, which was a lot more than most people these days.

  She pointed at the lines of clothing that ran from one side of the office floor to the other. Thankfully, these offices had the ability to open windows, although it only allowed it a quarter inch and it was screened. Clothing still took a long time to dry, which is why we had so many clotheslines.

  So I got to work, taking some of the bins, and baskets, and loading the dried clothing into them. Each section of line was separated by a coloured clothing pin, and a piece of paper with a number hung from it. It was how we kept track of which floor’s clothing was which.

  We didn’t separate it by person, however. And there had been a few fist fights over clothing in the past. No one had ever got seriously hurt though, so we left the system as it was.

  Once all the dry clothing had been put into the bins, I got to work on folding them. Elena went about her business, and didn’t often talk, except when telling me to move something, or that I was folding the shirts wrong.

  So I sat, and folded. I was doing five floors, so this took some time. I also made sure to separate out clothing and attach a clothing pin and paper indicating the floor number for things that needed mending. And a few pieces that seemed beyond saving went into a rag bin. They were then sterilized for the hospital floor, or were used for cleaning.

  And then, after a couple of hours of that, I still had time left, so Elena had me wash the clothing too—my least favourite part, even if the warm water was nice.

  Elena handed me gloves and I filled a bucket with warm water that she had already heated, and I dumped a floor’s bin into the container. We used sticks to press and mix the clothing. It always reminded me a bit of a witches cauldron, but a lot grosser and smellier than I imagined potions to be.

  After 5 hours, I was done my shift, and got to go have lunch. I headed up to the hospital floor first to check on Abel.

  “Hey,” He said, sitting up further in his bed to greet me. I hugged him, being mindful of his injured side. He was already eating lunch. The nurse came in and asked if I’d like them to bring up a plate for me as well. I gratefully accepted their offer. Plus, it meant I didn’t have to worry about the crowded lunch room.

  “So, what have you been up to?” Abel asks between mouthfuls, after the nurse had left.

  “Nothing much. Sorry, I forgot to mention I had a shift this morning, otherwise I would’ve been here earlier.” Abel just waved me off.

  “Don’t worry about it, they’ve been treating me well. Said I’ll probably be able to move to an actual sleeping floor tomorrow. They just want to keep an eye on infection for the cut.”

  “That’s great.” I said.

  “Do you actually work here? What do you do?” I explained the system, how we take turns doing chores and when I mention that we have hot showers once a month or so, his eyes glaze over dreamily.

  “I haven’t had a warm shower in so long.” Abel sighs.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not exactly like how the showers were before. We use gravity camp showers, and just heat up the water ahead of time.”

  “Even that sounds amazing.” Abel groans, and I grin.

  “Well, once you’re on a sleeping floor, I’ll make sure to add you to the rotation.

  “Please, that would be amazing.” I laugh at him. “So, what about the supply runs or whatever. And—what’s his name—Barker?”

  “Barclay.” I told him.

  “Right, sorry, Barclay. What was he doing? You said you were looking for someone when you found me… It was Barclay you were looking for, right?” He grinned, and I didn’t like where this line of questioning was headed. “So are you guys…?” I shook my head.

  “Like I said last night, he’s just a friend. He—he saved me. He’s the one who brought me here.” I held my breath, hoping that Abel wouldn’t pry. And to my surprise, he didn’t.

  “Okay, fine. What was Barclay doing though? How long are your supply runs?”

  “Well, it depends what we’re looking for. Most of the resources in the downtown section have been depleted already. So we go out farther for supplies now. And we’d heard rumours of a group like ours out on the island. So Barclay—“

  “Yeah, it exists.” Abel said casually. I stared at him, dumbfounded.

  “W—What? You’ve been there? You’ve seen it?” I asked him in quick succession.

  “Yeah, but it’s not like you guys. At least, not from what you’ve said.” He sighs. “I tried to get in with them. But they’re like an elite group—they don’t seem to let anyone in. Ever.”

  “So, who is a part of it then?” I stopped and turned to the nurse that entered, took the plate she offered and thanked her.

  “I don’t know,” Abel continued, as I started to eat. It was mashed potatoes, and canned green beans. A little plain, but still warm and better than nothing. “We watched a few groups come and go. But they’re tight knit. I’m not sure what they’re criteria is. I only know—“ He cut himself off sharply, like he had said something he shouldn’t have. I waited a few moments, expecting him to keep going. When he didn’t, I felt like I couldn’t press, since he had left the subject of Barclay and I alone.

  “So, has anyone told you about the training regiment yet?” I asked him instead, clearly changing the subject. I told him about Cher, and her training, and how you had to do a training session with her at least four times a week. But of course, not until after he was healed and cleared.

  We happily chatted about that until we had both finished our lunches.