I’m not capable on my own, so she bends down and helps lift me from under the arm. It’s dizzying to be in her presence again. I gaze into her eyes and instantly it becomes real. Those gorgeous eyes that have seen me and loved me, they look at me in disbelief and excitement.
“Lucy.”
She coughs—almost a sob, almost a laugh. “I thought I’d never hear you call me by my name again.”
“What else would I call you?”
“Oh, shut up.” Hesitantly, she licks her lips. Arms open, her head tilts to the side. “May I?”
She remembers. I practically launch myself at her and squeeze around her middle. Lucy envelops my shoulders in her arms and rests her head in my hair. It’s as if, until now, I drifted like a puff of pollen, directed about by the winds. She smells like fabric softener and sweat, like your pillow at home after being away for too long.
“You were dead.” My words are muffled in her shirt. “You were dead.”
“Yeah,” she replies wetly. “I know.”
“God, I’ve missed you so much. How…” I cradle her face in my hands in the gentle, reverent way one handles precious things. “How are you real? Please, tell me you’re real. I’m not sure I can bear another one of these nightmares…”
“I’m real,” she whispers, and reaches up to hold my wrists. She turns and kisses the palm of my hand before leaning down to press her forehead against mine. How I would have given anything and everything, moved every star in the heavens, fought every battle Theia could dream of, if only to have a fraction of this time with her.
She kisses me once, firmly and desperately, until a tiny sob breaks our lips. I place my ear against her chest to hear the comforting thump. Every thump I hear the word “alive.”She’s alive, she’s alive, she’s alive.
“Mason and Private Frank—I have to get them.”
Lucy hums, and gently pulls away from me to meet my eyes. “They’re both fine, I promise.”
“How do you know?”
With a sigh, she runs her fingers through her cropped red hair. One side is shaved, exposing a scar across the side of her head, from her temple to above her ear. Her hair is shorter as well, barely reaching below her chin. No longer dark brown, but her natural, beautiful red. “It’s a long story. Come with me?”
“Of course.” I slip my hand into hers. “I am afraid you are never going to take another step in this life without me by your side.”
She appears visibly overcome with emotion, then captures me in a searing kiss. My back ends up pressed against a locker, but I’m grateful for the stability as my knees weaken at the taste of her on my tongue. It is a rather frantic kiss, but neither of us seem to be able to get our fill of each other. I know I never will. Her body leans into mine, all heat and soft flesh and the pressure of desire. The noise of scuffling boots breaks us apart and Lucy exhales sharply, out of breath.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Down the darkened hallway, she leads us to a door which opens into an anemically lit stairwell with concrete steps and handrails coated in chipped red paint. The pistol I procured from the soldier sticks out of the back of Lucy’s pants, next to a radio which she grabs as we descend the stairwell. “Fin, check on Hanson in room three.”
Static crackles and echoes around us. “The fuck did Kyle do now?”
“Our prisoner knocked him out and took his weapon. She’s in my custody.”
“I bet.” I recognize the voice as Captain Finley’s. She chuckles. “All right, I’ll grab Hanson. How about the little one? Well, the littler one?”
“Let her rest. According to the medic, she’ll be able to walk tomorrow, but probably on crutches. Mason stays in custody.Make sure he gets meals and let him know the girls are okay. You can tell him I said that. He…may have a few questions.”
“About you rising from the ashes like a freakishly tall phoenix?”
“Hilarious. We’ll have a meeting in the morning with everyone.”
Even over the staticky walkie-talkie, one can practically hear Captain Finley’s smirk. “Oh? Planning on a busy night there, Piccolo?”
Lucy pushes open a mechanical door out into the open air. “Shut up, Fin.”
Our location isn’t immediately recognizable. In the sky I spot a few constellations but that’s only so good as to general latitude and longitude. The nearby flora would indicate we are not far from where the train derailed. Same types of trees and grass. Looking back, the building looms tall behind us. It was a school, or maybe a former college. Several stories high, with beige and brown brickwork holding up a rather classical design. The roof is adorned with gold statuettes, one at each corner, as well as armed soldiers with long sniper rifles.
Lucy shuts off her radio and clips it back to her pants. Her general physique is mostly unchanged since I last saw her, but she has gained lean muscle in her arms and chest. Not quite the soft goddess I swung around a dance floor. Ultimately, it makes no difference. She still looks like the beginning and end of the world.
We walk about a mile outside of the school-slash-holding-center until a semicircle of trailers appears in view, evidently our destination. Grass is brutally shorn to the roots, revealing thick brown mud and dirt upon which five trailers sit. Outside each is some sort of oversized three-wheeled vehicle with off-road tires.