It was now, or never.
Gemini rushed through the dark corridor with all her strength, pushing her legs as fast as they could go. At the other end of the hall was her freedom: the escape pod.
Reynolds pushed through the door of Bishop’s office just ahead of her. “Gemini?!” He blurted in shock.
She attempted to dart around him, but he shoved her aside and knocked her against the wall.
“What do you think you’re doing??” He hissed, dipping his face close to hers as he pressed her against the wall by her shoulders.
With all of the rage she could muster, Gemini ducked her head forward and clocked Reynolds in the nose with her forehead.
He coughed and rolled backward, blood spilling from his nostrils. Gemini broke out of his grasp, but he managed to grab her in a bear hug to keep her arms restrained. His wrist—complete with the watch that was on it, was in view. With clenched teeth, she dropped her weight, threw up her elbows to break his grasp, spun around, and swung the blade to slice through the watch band on his wrist.
He shrieked as the watch went flying and a long gash of blood broke across his arm. At last, he fell to his knees.
The sound of a door opening reached her ears. Without time to think, she thrust out her blade and shot a blast at the sound.
She choked on her breath.
She had struck William in the chest.
She sucked in a terrified gasp, tears spilling from her eyes.
Her breath was released as a short cry, waking her from her nightmare.
She shuddered through sobs, rolling her tired eyes to the dark ceiling above her. She groaned and covered her face, still shaking from the mental anguish. Surely the nightmares would end, wouldn’t they? It had been four years since she had left ORBIT; two since she had lost William; how much longer would it take?
She rolled to her side and sat up. The dim light of dawn had begun to light the cabin; she might as well get up at this point. She leaned to the end table beside the bed and picked up her glasses. Slipping them on, she groaned and got up from the bed. A plush dog was left behind among the sheets.
After washing her face and hands in the bathroom, she looked up into the mirror that hung over the sink. Her face, albeit tired, looked back at her. She raked her hands through her hair, the longest strands just beginning to lie against her shoulders. Her eyes then focused on the tarnishing edges of the mirror. She delicately flecked it with her finger, but the desilvering was affecting the inside of the glass, not the outside. She huffed out a sigh and turned to the kitchen.
After brewing coffee and cooking an omlette for breakfast, she changed out of an oversized undershirt and into her black layered tunics and pants. Grabbing her blade from the end table, she walked outside into the cool morning air. The sky was coated in deep blue as the sun continued its climb to the horizon, and she used the growing light to find a dying tree in the forest nearby. She hacked at it with her blade until she broke a wide enough wedge, then inserted the sonic with the probe facing the wood. A quick fire from her blaster broke the tree the rest of the way, and it fell to the ground.
The sun had peeked over the tree line by the time she had chopped a large stack of wood from the tree and its branches, and with a long cord, she gathered up a bundle to bring into town as firewood for trading. She stacked the rest beside the cabin before taking a look at the garden growing between the back of the cabin and the creek. She picked five ripe squash, a few tomatoes, and a handful of okra. She portioned some to keep for herself and bound the rest in a pack to carry with the firewood. Soon, once she had slipped the goggles onto her forehead, she started on the road to Westfall.
The warm sunlight filtered through cloth hangings strung between buildings as sellers spread their wares outside open shop doors. They were simple, practical items, such as food, medicine, jars, and cloth, and the smiles that met her as she passed warmed the scene even further.
“Good morning, Wildfire,” one of the shopkeepers waved. “I’ve got peaches today!”
She offered a light smile as she stopped in front of his table. “You remembered; what’ll you take?”
“I could sure use some more firewood,” the man glanced at the bundle on her back. “How about five for five?”
“Deal.”
The wood bundle was lowered, five long pieces were removed, and five fresh peaches were placed into her sack. Westfall had long lost the need for currency, and The Wildfire quickly learned that firewood was a necessary commodity—especially as the weather cooled for winter.
She continued down the street, trading more wood for some chicken, her entire stash of okra for a dozen eggs, and two of her squash for a jar of cow’s milk. As she traded, her eyes continually scanned for Hudson among the townspeople. She always met him somewhere along the line, but today, he was nowhere to be found.
“Since you’re here,” Margaret pushed forward a second jar of milk, “this needs to go to Lillith at the hospital. Would you mind bringin' it over for me?”
“Of course,” The Wildfire turned her attention back to the table.
“Oh, thank you—I’ve got a few more things!” The woman ducked under her table and produced a small bundle of meat and vegetables. “I really appreciate it!”
“It’s no trouble. Thanks, Margaret.” Shouldering her own bag of supplies, she carried Lillith’s groceries and stopped off at the hospital.
“Delivery,” she announced as she set the bundle and milk jar on the desk, leaning to glance through the door into the medical ward.
“What!” Came Lillith’s voice, and the doctor quickly hurried into the room. Her smile was wide, spread between the thick curls that framed her face, as she found The Wildfire standing in the office. “Why, thank you! And to what do I owe the pleasure of this particular delivery girl?”
The Wildfire smirked. “Margaret asked, ‘hey, can you bring this to Lillith?’ and I said, ‘yes’.”
Lillith snorted. “That is generally how those sorts of things happen.” She shook out her sarcasm and ended with a warm smile. “I appreciate it. And it’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you,” she replied.
The conversation waned, and when The Wildfire turned idly to the door, Lillith took a step closer. “Say, I can’t interest you in helping me here at the hospital, can I?”
The Wildfire pressed her lips together. “I’m... pretty well busy enough with beast-control,” she admitted truthfully.
The doctor nodded, clasping her hands at her waist. “I figured, and that’s all right. It’s just... I’ve had a time keeping anybody here as a nurse.”
“Not even Carla?”
She shook her head.
The Wildfire frowned. “It’s been two years since...”
“She’s not coming back,” Lillith shifted on her feet. “I’ve had a little help here and there, but nothing permanent. Margaret is almost the only one I can count on anymore, and she’s still running the farm full-time with Henry, so there’s plenty of times she just can’t be here.”
“I mean,” it was The Wildfire’s turn to change positions, “I could try to come some days, I just... I need to stay out there as much as possible so I can keep ahead of them.”
“No, no; you need to keep up what you’re doing—you’re probably the reason I’m not overwhelmed with patients, to be honest,” Lillith straightened, a hint of a smile returning. “I don’t mean to burden you with my problems.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t care about them,” she paused, “and you.”
The doctor’s wide smile returned. “We all care about you too.” Her grin turned toothy as she added, “Especially when you bring over my groceries.”
The Wildfire couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe I can at least keep doing that.”
“I would love that. Thank you, Ms. Fire.”
After leaving the medical ward, she started down the next street to make a stop at the bakery. As she scanned each passerby in an attempt to find Hudson, she was surprised to notice Carla walking across the street in the opposite direction. She paused, half-expecting to be found and called over. She wavered on her feet when she was not.
“Carla?”
The young woman shot upright, dropping the empty basket formerly tucked under her arm. Carla’s childlike curiosity and bubbly demeanor was uncharacteristically missing as she stood still across the road. Her lips were parted, her brows peaked, but her light hazel eyes seemed distant behind the long strands of brown hair brushing across her face.
The Wildfire’s expression dimmed with concern. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” she adjusted the pack of food on her back and nodded toward the bakery. “Did you... want to get some breakfast?”
Carla’s eyes grew wide as they focused on her. She nodded as a smile tried to pull on the corners of her lips, but she turned away before her expression was able to change. Silently, she knelt down to retrieve her basket, and she tugged on her green floral skirt and crossed the street.
The two found a table on the small wooden porch outside the bakery, sitting together with a couple of biscuits between them. The Wildfire had already eaten, but the warm, fluffy pastry was far too inviting to turn down. She had barely begun to eat when she noticed Carla looking down into her biscuit without moving.
“Is everything all right?” she asked hesitantly.
Carla sat up and nodded almost too exuberantly. “Sure is.”
“Are you really sure?” The Wildfire’s lips skewed, hoping the question didn’t seem rude. When Carla appeared hesitant to answer, she added, “I was just talking to Lillith, and she said you’d not gone back to work at the hospital.”
Carla sunk in her chair. “I can’t anymore.” She said softly. “After the attack... I know it’s been years, but I just can’t. It was too much pain... and death.”
The Wildfire frowned and nodded. “I understand. I just know she’s needing help.”
“I wish I could.” The young woman’s hazel eyes drifted. “There’s so much that’s changed since when we first met. I wanted to do everything... and I’m learning I can’t.” She puffed out a long sigh, sinking even further as she leaned over the table. “I’ve got no reason to be upset. I got a good husband, a good home, good food, and people around me,” she trailed off as her eyes fell to the ground. “But... I’m scared.”
“Scared?” The Wildfire tensed up. “Are the beasts getting—”
“It’s not them,” her expression slowly fell into crushed fear. “I don’t think Thomas and me can have babies,” she admitted, scarcely above a whisper.
The Wildfire was uncertain how to react to the revelation. She floundered over a variety of phrases before at last offering, “I’m sorry.”
Carla seemed to be on the verge of tears. “I’ve always wanted babies. I thought for sure I’d be able to... but no one can seem to anymore. Even me.”
The woman in black pushed against her chair. She was well aware of the town’s low birth rate; Ella had been the youngest member of Westfall before her death four years prior. No new children had been born since then.
“Things may turn around,” she suggested, awkwardly turning her biscuit on its plate. “Keep praying about it; I will too.”
At last, Carla’s haggard expression lightened, filling with hope. “His will be done.”
“Yes,” she offered a compassionate smile. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Thanks for listening.” The smile at last rubbed off on her. “Say, are you still having your nightmares?”
The smile faded. “Yeah. They’re not as bad, but—”
“Well!”
The two women turned to the street as a strapping man in a brown leather vest approached the bakery’s porch. A tan handlebar moustache covered his lip and curled at the edges—but the bolo tie at his neck gave him away. “I heard you were in town,” Thomas grinned, though much was hidden beneath the moustache.
“It’s market day,” The Wildfire replied with a smile.
Thomas stepped up behind Carla and rested his hands on her shoulders. “You can come on other days too, y’know. We’d love to have yeh. Carla’s an incredible cook.”
The Wildfire’s smile turned inward. “Yeah, maybe one of these days.”
“You should ask her about Eastland,” Carla looked up at her husband.
“That’s right; I was thinkin’ of putting another team together to scour over Eastland again; though I’m startin’ to think we may wanna try Southbrook.”
“Southbrook was abandoned long before we were even born,” Carla said confusedly. “Why go out there?”
The Wildfire watched Thomas’ jovial mood slip.
“Many of our supplies are limited, and I don’t know how much is left in Eastland we haven’t already picked over.” His fingers twirled the corner of his moustache. “I wanna stockpile as much as we can. I know much o’ Southbrook’s gonna be overgrown and prob’ly all useless, but it’s worth lookin’ over.”
The Wildfire nodded. “Do you need me to be part of the team?”
“I’d sure like yeh to be if yeh can,” he leaned against the chair, setting a hand on his hip beside a holstered pistol. “I’m not sure how many beasts could be down that way. I think you’ve held ‘em off well enough here that Adrien can take over yer patrol for a few days.”
“Sure,” she accepted. “Just let me know when.”
“Thank yeh, I appreciate it.” He smiled beneath his moustache and looked down at the plate of biscuits. The Wildfire had popped the rest of hers into her mouth and Carla had finally selected another, leaving one remaining. “Say, were you expectin’ me?”
“Apparently so,” The Wildfire stood. “You can have my seat to eat with your wife.”
“Aw, no, I’m fine standin’...” his sentence ended with puffed lips when the woman in black shouldered her bag of supplies and started around the table. “Stubborn as ever,” he commented.
“Look who’s talking,” she shot back at the edge of the porch. “You haven’t seen Hudson, have you?”
“Not today.”
“All right. See y’all later.”
The mayor waved at her with his biscuit as Carla smiled in return.
“She said ‘y’all’,” Carla giggled as The Wildfire walked away.
“I believe we’re rubbin’ off on ‘er,” Thomas chuckled as he took the seat across from his wife to finish their breakfast together.
The Wildfire started her trek back out of town, but she paused when she passed the chapel: one of two likely places Hudson could be. She started up the stairs to peek through the doors, but her face fell when she found no one inside.
She looked back toward town. She had really wanted to see him before leaving; his kind face and quiet friendliness were a welcome addition to her visits into town. Her hearts sank when she thought of leaving without it.
It was a longing that caught her off guard.
She took a deep breath and puffed it through her nose. It wouldn’t hurt to pay a visit to the Rowletts’ mechanic shop before leaving town. She just wanted to say hello; that would be the extent of the interaction. Nothing more, nothing less.
As she came upon the shop, she could hear the familiar balking of Timothy Rowlett, Hudson’s father, wafting out of the wide open shop door.
“Pay attention, son; your head’s in the clouds today!”
Hudson grunted. “I’m sorry, Paw; I just really wanted to go to market—”
“You’ll have plenty of time after you help me with this tractor! Samuel can’t work without it!”
The Wildfire found a grin on her face as she lingered near the edge of the barn door; out of view, but still within earshot. She almost missed overhearing the two’s workshop banter; it became a staple while living in the loft beside them.
“It’s not like you’ve gotta be there at a certain time,” Timothy continued. “Market goes on all day!”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what?” The father’s older voice rose from the clanging of metal. “It’s not like you’re going there to meet you a wife—which is what you should be doin’!”
The Wildfire had heard similar conversations before. She waited for Hudson’s usual variation of, ‘you know I’m never going to be suited for that sort of thing,’ but, instead, there was a prolonged moment of silence.
“Hudson?” Timothy was just as surprised. “Hold up—did you actually meet someone?”
The Wildfire tensed, scooting closer to the edge of the building.
“Paw, it’s... it’s nothin’.”
“It ain’t nothin’ the way you’re actin’.”
“It’s nothin’ like you think. Ms. Wildfire is a kindly woman and I like to see her—”
“The Wildfire??”
The woman in question covered her mouth.
“Hudson, you can’t go marryin’ an alien!”
“I didn’t say I was! And she’s just as human as anybody else.” Hudson huffed in annoyance.
“The woman can summon fire! And not get burned by it!”
“She does too get burned,” he mumbled, “people say that, but she’s still gettin’ hurt. She just heals up quick.”
The Wildfire slid her hands up her arms. He had noticed that?
“I just like to see her, is all. She’s kind, and her voice is pretty, and her eyes are...” There was another huff as Hudson decided against continuing the sentence.
“Hudson, listen,” the father’s voice was more sympathetic, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up. You know that girl’s always seemed happier on her own, even when she lived here. And you really should think about kids; would that even work with her?”
The eye roll could almost be heard in his voice. “Paw, please—”
“I just want you to think about it!”
“Yeah, well that doesn’t matter to me.”
“It should. Don’t you want to raise a kid? The Psalms talk about kids being olive shoots around your table—”
“Paw, don’t—”
“Hudson—”
The young man offered an annoyed groan, grabbed his coat hanging on the wooden door, and stormed out of the workshop before The Wildfire could react.
Their eyes grew wide when they both realized the other was standing before them. Neither of them moved for an uncomfortable amount of time, staring at each other in silent embarrassment.
At last, The Wildfire gently waved him to follow her, and Hudson was quick to comply when his father started calling out from behind him. He slipped his coat over his dusty work shirt as the two scooted around the block to an abandoned street, vacant of residents and passers-by.
Once out of range of the main road, Hudson immediately deflated. “I—I don’t know what all you heard, but—but—I’m real sorry—”
“It’s okay,” she attempted to calm him while setting her pack down beside the brick wall. Her own face was flushed as a myriad of emotions coursed through her mind.
His embarrassment turned into an awkward bow. “I was gonna tell you,” he admitted to her feet. “I was going to tell when I saw you at the market this morning... I really do like to see you. And I like bein’ around you. It’s silly,” he added dismissively, “me gettin’ all worked up because Paw was keepin’ me.”
“It’s not silly,” she admitted gently, “I came to look for you since I didn’t see you at the market... I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”
His eyes peeked out from beneath his furrowed brows.
The feeling of longing, the fluttering within her hearts; it had come back in full force. It had been so long since she had felt it, but looking into his dark eyes rolled in an unexpected wave of emotion.
A smile cracked his worried expression. “Really? That’s why you were out at the shop?”
She nodded, also finding a smile.
“Oh,” he breathed the word. His sturdy form then went limp when he processed this new information. “Oh!”
She watched him alternate between emotions—not unlike the ones swelling within her. It was charming at first, tugging at the smile on her lips.
But then the feelings collected heavily in the pit of her stomach.
What about The Doctor?
Her brows furrowed. What about him? It had been over ten years; it was long past time for her to give up on him. She didn’t need to put companionship on a permanent hold because of him.
“What’s wrong?” Hudson’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.
She looked up at him. His expression had fallen to one of concern—undoubtedly from the guilt that had tainted her own. She didn’t want to bring up her old life, but she couldn’t ignore the tendrils of her past that still held firm—nor could she ignore the man waiting for an answer.
She crossed her arms and leaned toward the brick wall. “If something happened so long ago,” she frowned, “why is it so hard to let go of?”
Hudson pocketed his hands. “Did you get separated from someone you loved when you crashed here?”
She nodded, her eyes drifting.
He shrugged. “Seems to me, you never got closure.”
The phrase seemed so simple; she was surprised she had never thought about it in that way before.
“I think that’s why it’s always been more difficult for you to adjust here—you never got closure from your old life, so it’s always just... sittin’ back there.”
“That... actually makes sense,” she muttered.
“You never got to say goodbye or anything, so part of you pro’lly wonders what he’d think, or if it’d still be possible to be reunited.” He tried to smile. “I can understand why it’s hard to let it go.”
“But, you...” she reached for his hand, grasping it the moment it slid from his pocket. “You’re here. You’re now.” Her eyes stayed locked upon their hands. Her fingers seemed so small within his rough hands.
“I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with,” he said gently as he, too, surveyed their hands. “I just want to be around you.”
Her smile bent with compassion. “I appreciate that.” She studied him closely; his dark eyes and tan face, short black hair, and sideburns that grew down to meet his squared chin. “I want to be around you too,” she conceded softly. “I never realized how much I... I missed something like this.”
Before she could give it another thought, she pulled his hand to her cheek. The warmth against her skin filled her with another wave of longing. She shut her eyes and leaned into it.
He used his hand to gently pull her toward him, cradling her head against his chest as he folded his other arm around her. She wrapped her arms across his back and held him as if to never let him go.
He was here. He was now. He was warm, and kind, and good. He was strong, and steady, and caring.
He was not lost in her past, never to be seen again.
“Have you had breakfast?” His voice was half-muffled from her ear against his chest.
She glanced up at him, her fingers remaining on the lapels of his coat while a half-smile played on her lips. “I’ve had... two breakfasts, actually—but I’ll come with you.”
He smirked, his face reddening. “Well, I’ve had breakfast too; just was trying to think of somethin’ to do.” He looked at her pack on the ground. “You pro’lly need to get your food home, anyway.”
She frowned at the thought of returning to the cabin. “I... no,” she glanced warily down the road behind her. “Not yet.”
His smile softened. “We could go for a walk,” he suggested. “It’s a really nice day for one.”
The warmth of his smile disarmed her. “I would love that,” she breathed.
The man beamed so brightly he could have easily lit a room. Without another word, he broke away from her grasp in order to pick up her bag of groceries from the ground. She attempted to reach for them after the fact, but he waved her away. Smirking, she accepted his chivalry.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” he reached into his coat pocket and produced a loop of blue cloth and leather. “This morning, I was gonna give you this too.”
Her brows peaked. “A bracelet?”
“I’m not real crafty,” he chuckled sheepishly. “But, I found this cloth at the market last time, and I thought it would make a mighty pretty bracelet for you.”
He held out his hand to her.
She accepted it, watching as he slid the bracelet onto her arm.
He hovered before her, anxious for her approval.
Hesitancy broke away. A toothy grin spread across her face as she squeezed his hand. She looked up from the bracelet and met his eyes.
“Thank you, Hudson. This is perfect.”
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Chapter Notes