I fell back asleep for a few hours until the sunlight streamed through the office blinds on the window. My body ached from the stairs, and lack of sleep. Rubbing my leg as I dressed, I frowned looking down at the unmarked skin. Despite it being healed, I can still feel where my leg broke when I overdo it.

  I made my way down to the kitchen, smiling as I saw that Eddie was working.

  “I’m surprised you’re not downstairs.” I said to him as I got to the front of the line, waiting for breakfast.

  “Later. They needed to do some cleaning of the lobby first.” He explained, serving me eggs and toast, already topped with butter and marmalade. There’s a small section of the roof up top that has a few chickens. It’s not enough for eggs everyday for the whole building, despite some of the groups best efforts to incubate the eggs when the hens aren’t wanting to. But so far, we have enough for eggs at least once a week.

  Part of the group has also started to work on constructing a greenhouse on the roof, which hopefully will allow us to have some fresh vegetables. It would be a nice break from the canned stuff we usually get.

  I thanked him and took a seat at one of the tables. I didn’t like eating in here, but I was also hoping for news about last night. As far as I knew, we hadn’t been attacked again, thankfully, but I hadn’t heard how much damage there was, or who we had lost.

  My eyes met Cheryl’s and she waved to me as she came in and got in line for food. I started eating mine as I waiting for her.

  “Hey,” She said, taking a seat next to me. “Glad to see you’re okay.” She spoke loudly and brightly, as always.

  “You too,” I smiled at her, mulling over the idea of telling her what Barclay had said, and how he had tried to change my shifts last night. But I decided against it. Cheryl was a good friend, but I didn’t want word getting around that he was playing favourites, or that I was ducking out of responsibilities.

  “Have you heard how bad it is?” I asked instead.

  “No, though I’ve heard some people claim it was mostly just furniture damaged, and that the supports should be fine.” She shrugged, “Whatever that means.”

  My thoughts wander to what would happen if the building was no longer suitable to live in. Where would we all go? What was left out there for a group of people this size?

  Then my mind drifts back to Barclay - would he go with me? Would I want him to?

  I try to shut down any other thoughts and stab my remaining eggs with my fork.

  “You’re worrying about something.” Cheryl says, he eyes meeting mine.

  “No I’m not.” I say, defensively.

  “Yeah, you are.” She points at the lower part of my face with her fork. “You chew on your lip when you’re worried.”

  I stop chewing my lip, once I realized that she was right. Biting into my toast, she grins at me, but something was off, it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “So,” She said, becoming serious. “What’s bugging you?” She kept her eyes down now, eating her breakfast.

  “Nothing — just the attack, I guess.” She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Have you heard if anyone—“ I pause, never sure how to bring up this question.

  “Yeah, a couple people, I don’t think you ever met them though.” She stops moving.

  “Shit, who?” I ask her quietly.

  “Sarah and Loops.” She mumbles as tears hit her plate. I turn to face her, and take the fork from her hand, laying it on the plate, before wrapping my arms around her in a hug.

  “I’m sorry,” I say to her. She’s right, I didn’t know them, but I’d seen them in training. Being the main trainer, Cher got to know everyone - so anyone we lose was always especially hard for her.

  “I’m okay,” She says after a minute, taking a breath and sniffling.

  I reached across the table and handed her a cloth - tissues were no longer available, but these got washed regularly for use as napkins or tissues.

  “Thanks,” She says, as she smiles at me. “Now, tell me what’s actually bothering you.” I hesitate, moving my fork back and forth across my plate despite all of the food being gone. She pauses. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Barclay’s been staring at you since he walked in here 30 seconds ago, would it?”

  Shit. I’d been so preoccupied with Cheryl, I hadn’t even noticed.

  If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  “What’s up with you two?” Cheryl whispers to me, quirking an eyebrow suggestively. I nudge her ribs with my elbow and she laughs. “Seriously though, that guy looks like he’s either going to scream, or start crying.”

  I chance a glance to my left where he waits in line. And Cheryl isn’t entirely wrong about his facial expression, but I think he looks more worried than sad.

  He’s still staring when I glance away, and turn my body toward Cheryl so I don’t accidentally glance at him.

  “You should spar with Barclay.” Cheryl says out of nowhere.

  “What?” I half laugh into my plate.

  “What?” She responds back. “I don’t think you two have ever sparred together.”

  “We haven’t, plus he’s still got, what, at least another 3 weeks in the sling?”

  “Oh, right,” Cheryl nods. “And that’s only if he doesn’t go do something stupid and injure it again.”

  I think about him catching me on the stairs and something in my stomach tightens at the thought. I brush it away.

  “Anyway,” Cheryl says standing, looking pointedly behind me over my shoulder. “I should really get to training. See you later.” Her voice is tight and crisp, and she moves past me. I don’t even get a chance to turn and go back to my plate before Barclay is sitting next to me. Plate in his good hand, and cutlery being held by the hand in his sling.

  “I have to go see Abel,” I say, standing.

  “Please,” He says quietly. I hesitate for a second, but then I keep moving.

  “See you later.” I say, and the tightness I felt in my stomach before becomes a pit as I move away from him, and see his face fall even further.

  I make sure not to look at him again as I leave the room.

  True to my word, I do go see Abel. Who is awake, and doing well, and who immediately snaps at me for not waking him last night. I pull up a spare chair next to his bed.

  “It’s fine,” I assure him, “I was busy grabbing fire extinguishers anyway.” I told him the information I had gathered from the attack, though it appears the nurses had already filled him in.

  We hung out for a bit, and I told him Cheryl would be stopping by later, and explained that Cher would be overseeing his training once he was cleared by the nurses.

  “Well,” I say, pausing, “That is, if you want to stay?” Abe only shrugged.

  “I don’t think I have anywhere else to go.” He admitted quietly. I lean forward and take his hand.

  “That’s okay, you heard Barclay, you’ll be welcome here.” I lean forward in the chair to squeeze his hand.

  “Barclay cares for you, y’know.” Abe says, and the pit of guilt eating my stomach returns. “And I think mom and dad would be happy that you’ve made a life here for yourself.”

  “And I think they’d be happy that we found each other.” I say, and then add, “And that you’re being way too sappy.”

  Before he can respond, a nurse comes in and starts bustling around him, and I have to move my chair out of the way.

  “I’ll see you later, I have to go do a shift in a kitchens anyway.” I tell him.

  “See ya,” He calls after me.

  I make my way back down to the kitchen, and feel relieved when Barclay isn’t anywhere in sight. Given that my schedule is posted, I had been worried he would try finding me.

  The dishes weren’t the worst job, but given that it was the breakfast set I had to carry the water buckets from the main floor, which was now very charred from the last attacks, up to the kitchens. We used propane stoves to heat the water, which took a while.

  I didn’t mind dishes, at least it kept me busy. We rationed the soap, and the only thing I didn’t like was how much it dried out my hands. We couldn’t use gloves since they were being kept for jobs like disposing of waste, or medical situations.

  3 hours later, I was free, and the lunch rush had started. Not feeling up for spending time in the dining room again, I skipped lunch, thinking that what I really wanted was a nap. There would be time to bring Cher up to Abe later in the evening.

  As I reached my floor, I double check the schedule.

  Dishes this morning, then I was scheduled for a supply run tomorrow. I was surprised by this, as I figured after my last, admittedly unscheduled, run where I brought back Abel, I’d be off for a few days. But then I thought about those we had just lost in the attack, and how Barclay had come back injured from his supply run.

  It’s possible we were either running low on available people, or that we were getting low on specific supplies - or, the most likely, all of the above.

  At least Abel would be okay, the nurse had told me when I was leaving that Abel would be put on a regular sleeping floor probably tomorrow.

  I entered the hallway, and made it to my office. Not even bothering to change, I got into bed and drifted off.

  ***

  I woke up to the sound of knocking. Not on my door, but farther away.

  Sitting up, I wondered if maybe I had slept through a shift or something, but no, I didn’t have anything except training tomorrow, and the sun was just setting.

  The knocking was coming from the main floor, so I threw on a sweater over my leggings and tank top and opened the door to find Barclay standing in front of me.

  “Sorry, you were sleeping?” He asks, obviously trying not to smile at my hair. I touch it and wince, it probably looks messy.

  “Come in, I’ll fix my hair.” I tell him, deciding that if we’re going to talk, we may as well get this over with.

  I lead the way and motion to a chair in the corner of my small room. I searched through my shelves until I found my hair brush, and sorted my hair out using the small pocket mirror I had hung from a nail on the bookshelf.

  “Better?” I turn and look at him, then take a spot on my bed on the floor. “What’s up?”

  “I wanted to talk to you about the supply run tomorrow.” I frown, he must have checked the schedule posted outside.

  “What about it?” I ask, and it comes out much angrier than I intended. Barclay hold up his one hand defensively.

  “I know it’s not my place,” He sighs and runs a hand over his face. “I’m worried about you.” He whispers, and he says it so quietly as he looks at me, gauging my reaction.

  “What do you mean? And on top of that, what was that last night? What are you gong to explain, and why did you,” I drop my voice low, realizing I’ve been yelling and I don’t want any of my office room neighbors to hear. “Why did you pull me off the floor shift?”

  “I said that I would explain, and I will,” He paused. “Is that okay?” I nod, not trusting my self to speak. “Are you busy this evening?” He asks, and I check my manual clock on the desk. It’s 6:14pm.

  “I have to go introduce Cheryl to Abel, but after that I should be free.”

  “Okay, how about you come get me when you’re done and we can grab a late supper?” I didn’t particularly want to spend time in the crowded dining hall, but maybe I’d actually get some answers out of him.

  “Sure,” I agreed.

  “Okay, I’ll leave you be. I’ll either be in my room, or on the roof. Sorry again for waking you.” He turns and disappears down the hall.