Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 11

The night had been long and cold, but as the morning sun peeked up from the horizon, its warmth brought a thin fog from the slightly damp ground. Awakened by the oncoming light, Ryan found himself with his arms still wrapped around Abigail, who lay on her side against his chest, drifting into a light sleep. But, he was awakened by something else, a sensation he had been long been without, and as his mind became sharper with continued wakefulness, he discovered that his hand had found its way to Abigail’s breast. For a moment, he absorbed its supple warmth, but so as not to offend her, removed it immediately. However, unbeknownst to him, Abigail’s senses had risen from her sleep, enough to be aware of where Ryan’s hand had been, and fighting off a similar response, let a gentle smile appear on her face.

Breaking himself away from the moment, Ryan sat up quickly as Abigail rolled on her back, and stretching her arms over her head, asked about his night.

“So, how did you sleep?”

Ryan was now sitting on the side of the bed, shaking the last of the night's fuzziness from his brain,

“Not well,” he replied. “I think the bed’s a bit hard for me. How about you?”

Abigail had rarely dated, much less shared a bed with a man and although nothing had happened between them, she had been consumed by a sense of warmth she was not accustomed to, in spite of their circumstances.

“Well,” she began. “I’m not sure if this is good or bad, but I slept like a baby.”

Puzzled, Ryan inquired further. Given the things they had seen, and the fear Abigail had, thus far, experienced, he thought it was odd that she would sleep so soundly.

“What do you mean good or bad?”

Her voice expressed a slight degree of guilt, but her answer was honest, nonetheless.

“I guess with all the shit we’ve seen, and how stressful things have been, I just went out like a light. Do you think that’s wrong?” Ryan was not long with an answer.

“No, I don’t think so. We’ve done a lot of walking, and we’ve had the shit scared out of us a few times, so I guess we both needed the sleep.”

Having traveled mostly at night, it was only now, in the soft morning light, that Ryan could see Abigail without the blinders of darkness and found her angelic voice to be a clear match for her appearance.

She was a slim girl, with rough brown hair, tossed down to the middle of her back. The curves of her waist seemed flowing and smooth, and could easily be the object of any other woman’s jealousy. But, her face--if it could be said that the eyes are the windows to the soul, then hers were the doorway to heaven, set off by a canvas of flawless skin. Together, her face rang of girlish innocence, untarnished by the sins of the world, or by those who would gain pleasure at the thought of treating as a throw-away – to be used and cast aside. But, trying not to stare, Ryan continued his studied glance as Abigail lay outstretched on the bed. She seemed to have everything in the right proportions, and in all the right places. As she turned on her side, he couldn’t help noticing how her breasts drifted to one side, filling her open-necked shirt with a hint of cleavage. However, the accidental placement of his hand, during the night, spoke of something more. Apparently, she was not accustomed to wearing a bra.

Now, as Ryan stood up, Abigail also got a first look at him and the first thing that caught her eye was his back-side. Up until this point, she had been consumed by her studies as an art student and dated rarely. Yet, she was not immune from her own sexual response, and studying him from the back, wondered what else may be hiding beneath the barrier of his clothing. He had not yet turned to face her when she felt herself flush, but when he did, she was unable to suppress the sudden rise of her body heat. She had learned to trust her instincts, and when meeting new people always looked at their faces first. There, she could see the sum of their lives – their fears, worries, and pain. But with Ryan, she saw something more – his strength. His expression bore a resolve that she assumed had everything to do with the state of his life. After all, his children had, quite literally, been stolen from him when he was robbed of his happiness as a father. Life would have been far more bearable if he had, at least, been allowed to see them occasionally. But, it was not just his soul she had taken an interest in, and in the morning light, as he stepped up to the window, she also saw the features of his face – handsome and chiseled. Once again, Abigail felt the flutter of infatuation as her eyes took in the whole man, who, it seemed, was already committed to her safety, and it was this that left her with the whisperings of a silent wish.

It was at this point that Ryan noticed that something was missing, something they had brought with them, and searching both his mind and the room, he suddenly realized what he had left behind. “Fuck!”

Getting to his feet, he ran out of the room and down the stairs. “What is it!?” Abigail said.

Still fearful of being left alone, she ran down after him and, entering the kitchen, found the back door open. Calling to him, Abigail stepped out into the cool morning air to find Ryan kneeling on the ground. It had been only hours before, when he had helped her to the side of the house after suddenly fainted. And, with his attention drawn to her, forgot to bring in the rifles and ammunition they had acquired from the arsenal in Watervliet. Now, he was hurrying to bring everything in before they were seen. “You forgot to bring in the guns?” Abigail asked. Ryan was both embarrassed and frustrated, and while gathering everything up, reminded her of the previous night's events. “Don’t you remember what happened last night”? he asked. Abigail’s memory of that night was somewhat gray. However, she did recall seeing something odd in an upstairs window. But in the next moment, it all made sense as she remembered waking up on the ground, with Ryan hunched over her. “Oh, right,” she began. “I guess I forgot about that. Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a dick or anything.” With everything back in its place, Ryan quickly led her inside, locking the door behind them. On their way back upstairs, he took a moment to go to the front door, making certain it was locked as well.

“C’mon,” he said.

Grabbing her by the hand, he pulled her back towards the stairs and up to the room, where they’d spent the night. “Why are going back up here?” Abigail asked. Now that he was awake and, once again, properly armed, his mind fell into a pattern of strategic thinking. “We can keep a better eye on everything from the second floor, and since heat rises, it should be warmer up here,” he replied. Once upstairs, Ryan instructed her to stay away from the windows, realizing that they could maintain a cautious watch and still not be seen. But, Abigail had other concerns as well, mostly food and water.

“Ryan,” she began. “I don’t know about you, but I’m fuckin’ starving. Do you think there’s any food around here?” Knowing that the house was likely of new construction, Ryan had his doubts about it being stocked but agreed to search it anyway, and making their way back downstairs, they combed through the kitchen.

“Shit!” Abigail said. “There’s nothing here!” Quickly frustrated, she slammed the last of the cabinet doors and, turning to Ryan, suggested they search the neighboring houses. “I’m not sure we’re going to find anything,” he began. “They all look new, and if there’s nothing here, we’re probably not going to find anything in the others.”

Neither had eaten in the last twenty-four hours, and Ryan also felt the pangs of hunger, but he had a suggestion, and he already knew that Abigail would not be pleased with it. “Maybe we should just keep going. There’s got to a be a place close by where we can get some food.” As expected, Abigail, motivated by fear, argued against his suggestion.

“You said we should only travel at night, so no one can see us! Now, you want to go out there in broad daylight? Why?” He understood her concerns, yet they desperately needed food and water. But then, Ryan was struck with an idea that he believed would lessen the risk of being discovered. “How about this?” he began. “We don’t have to walk on the roads. We can walk through the woods, just off the roads and if we hear someone, we can just duck a little further into the trees. What do you think?”

Abigail wasn’t pleased about it, but she realized that it was their only option.

“I guess it’s better than starving,” she replied. “But, can we take some blankets with us? I don’t want to freeze my ass off again.” Ryan agreed, but to avoid carrying too much weight, he asked that they carry only one each.

The blankets were light, having been placed on the beds for display only, and pulling them off, they folded them into long rolls and slung them over their shoulders. But right before leaving, Ryan retrieved one of the pistols they had procured from the arsenal and handed it to Abigail.

“Here,” he began. “You may have to use this.” Abigail's eyes grew wide at the idea of possibly having to take a life, and finding it quite repulsive, refused. As an art student, she was quite open-minded, and this meant being something of a liberal.

“I am ‘not’ carrying a gun!” she said. Already frustrated, Ryan attempted to argue against her idealism. “Look,” he continued. “I get it. Killing someone is...disgusting, but would you rather get raped and killed by some asshole, or be able to fight them, because I doubt you’re strong enough to physically fight someone off. Now, take the gun, please.” Abigail knew he was right. Given everything they had already seen, she realized that, because she was a woman, her life would be in danger every time she stepped outside.

Looking down at the weapon, Abigail saw its glistening black enamel and out of curiosity, brought a hand up, and touching it, felt its icy steel explode into her fingertips. But, knowing what this weapon and others like it were capable of, she pulled her hand back with an expression of fear and, again, refused to take it. Ryan understood completely, having his own reservations about carrying something that could end someone’s life. But, given the events that had already unfolded, he also saw it necessary to be aware of the possibility that he may have to kill in order to defend both himself and Abigail. She would always be his primary responsibility, surrendering his own life for hers, if need be.