Chapter 6

                                                              F  A  L  L  O  N

The days after our neighborly rendezvous were rocky, to say the least. The company was less than happy that they were not included in the final decision. Though after a direct statement from me about my judgement call, they seemed to put back the pitchforks and drown the flames of the torches, which was a relief.

I thought over today’s events, tightening the strap of the chunk of armor on my thigh. I’m back to daily duties, as is everyone else, seeing as the lockdown order has been lifted. As soon as I’d finishing getting ready I breezed out the door, unsurprised but pleased nonetheless to find Dominika striding in tow with me down the hall and descending the stairs. She wore her favorite tank top, teal with thin straps, she’d had it since the beginning so it was too short, sitting above the bellybutton. Her favorite jeans too, white wash with slashes and rips down the front from the thighs to the top of the shins and a thick black belt to ensure they wouldn’t slip off of her slim hips.

She hooked our arms, pulling me into her side as she maintained a passive face, she kept her voice low and subtle, “I need to speak with you.”

I raised an eyebrow  and looked away as to not draw attention, “I thought we were talking.”

Dominika dragged me in between buildings, “Rumors. There are rumors about you being involved with someone.”

My blood ran cold and my body went rigid as a board, through a tensed jaw I questioned her. Dominika glanced out nervously before hastily answering, “He’s not been identified yet. But there are heavy rumors. Someone knows.”

My entire body tensed even more, eyes hardening with a sharp intake of breath. Dominika had urgency in her cold ice eyes, an expression not commonly seen in the generally composed Russian. I took a deep breath, placing my hands on my hips and pressing down to calm my anxious heart. “This is bad. This is very bad.”

“I know.”

A young boy passed by, we received a suspicious an inquiring glance before he continued on his path. I took another breath, and snatched up a fistful of her shirt, yanking her closer and spitting out through clenched teeth, “I am going tae work now. Figure out who that is. Now.”

 

She nodded seriously, and I strainingly released her shirt with a hand so rigid it had turned even paler than my general alabaster skin. I could feel my nostrils flare slightly, as my teeth ground against each other. I charged across the compound, fists stiff at my sides on my way to check in on the daily business.

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14 hours. I got 14 hours to forget about the very sudden, possibly career threatening rumors were circling. I had received a consistent flow of suspicious glances and eerie whispering as I stomped past throughout the day. It was mostly from the elder Company members, of 14 years or older, plenty old enough  to understand why these gossips could be so perilous. But each Member who cast stares were met with a seething glare, and immediately cast their gaze to the floor in guilt.

The day was rough, at least I had work to use as a distraction. Immersing myself in the Company issues and tweaking things to fix them was calming, and I found it easy to lose myself in them. Marco said I did it often, similar to an artist losing themselves in their work. I never noticed when it happened until afterward, when I would check the time on the small pocket watch that was propped up on my desk, or look up at Marco and the small smile pushed to the side of his face.

I was inside a tent at my desk, they’d been provided by the Russian and United States military as part of the supplies. Dominika peeked inside, swiftly entering and closing the fabric behind her. Immediately I stood, she threw her weight forward on the desk and leaned close as if she’d been in a hurry, “It is getting vorse.” Her accent worsened, I could hear it in her tone that she was anxious. It only further confirmed my suspicions when she slipped into her mother tongue, “Это плохо. Слухи распространяются быстрее, чем мы можем убить их, и компания становится все ближе к разгадке его. Они не могу знать, что вы и Марко вместе, никто Фэллон. They almost know, you must move my comrade.”



I struggled to keep my breaths controlled, “Спокойный, спокойный, товарищ.” I advise her to calm herself, despite my now shaking hands. Her words were jarring, as the focus was now off of the initial event of me having someone and onto the actual identity of my partner.



“I am still pursuing the origin, but –”, I raised a stiff hand to silence her, “Calm.” I took a shaky breath and placed my hands on the desk, smoothing down the thin cloth cover. “I need a moment. Next we'll–”



Dominika suddenly interrupted me back, “Go to the Infant ward. You need to wind down.”



At first I opened my mouth to refuse, I have a speck more work to do, but the blonde is right. I took a beat to weigh my options before quickly deciding that she was right. The situation had both spawned and deteriorated within the same 24 hour period. I nodded, charging straight past her and past another Company member and out of the tent.



My head felt fuzzy with all the new information from the day’s events. I zeroed in on the building, treading across the compound, again, head wound up in my own thoughts. I didn’t acknowledge Celest when I entered either, an action I generally make sure to do. The path was undeterred, but I stopped just outside the doorway when I heard chit chat.



“I hope they are true.” The soft, young voice that emitted softly belonged only to Bianca, “I think it would be just fine if she was dating someone. She deserves someone to carry her after she finishes carrying everyone else.”



I chose at that moment to enter with an expression that displayed my emotion, noting that it was Maimoona she was speaking to, “I’m glad you feel that way, Bianca.”

The fifteen year old jumped from her seat frantically, toddler in her arms giggling with excitement. “Miss Fallon! I am so sorry, I did not mean to gossip –”, she silenced herself when I raised a hand and replaced the stony face I’ve become accustomed to. Maimoona kept a cool demeanor, “Child, why don’t you go put him to sleep.” She gestured to the toddler in Bianca’s arms; the teenager subtly shot a grateful glance at her superior, and then nodded respectfully at me as she exited the nursery.



“You should not do that to them, you know”, Maimoona’s voice came from behind me now, tucking in an infant.



“They should learn not tae gossip.”



“Rumors often stem from something true. I think it is a good thing. It is time that you come out with it.”



“That should be difficult, seeing as there is nothing to come out with.”



Maimoona scoffed quickly, turning to me with a scolding gaze, “Do not lie to me, child. You must remember that rumors, while often true, can mean trouble when lies are introduced.”



I said nothing, she was right, she always was. I peered at Nurzhan in his crib, he was sleeping. Those big brown monolid eyes were closed and sealed shut, tiny mouth just barely fallen open and moving as he slept. He looked so innocent, naïve, so unguarded. I want him to stay that way, he must stay that way. I don’t want him to turn out like me, meticulous, calculating, careful, untrusting. I hate being this way sometimes, even if it does keep me safe. It keeps them all safe.



I pressed a kiss to my fingertips and brush them against the soft skin of his forehead. I also noticed that Maimoona had exited the room, leaving me to my own silence. I began to tread out again, feeling exhausted with the events of the day. Celest is gone when I exit through the Infirmary doors.



Suddenly it’s as if the small break in the Infant ward had made me more aware of the people around me. Just walking three buildings length down the street, I felt the eyes of half the company burning blisters into my back, my arms, the back of my head. But I find it funny that there was not one pupil on my face, I suppose it’s hard to look someone in the eyes when you’re thinking horrible things about them.



It only worsened when Emilio marched up to my left with his face twisted up in anger. I elected to ignore him, lacing my fingers together and leaving them behind my back.



“So that’s it? You’re just going to ignore me?”



“I am sorry Emilio. I have bigger fish tae fry. If ye have an issue, please tak' it up wi' th' communications department.” I somehow was unbothered by the fact that my voice had become emotionless, apathetic.



After a few more moments of my stoic silence and walking along side me, Emilio strode past me, grumbling, and planted his feet in the asphalt ten feet away. As soon as it became apparent that he had no intention of moving, I stepped a little quicker and shoved his shoulder, powering past him. The smart Company members that had been standing behind him moved and kept their heads down, recognizing that now is time for mocking and snide comments.



I thought he had finally given up when I heard him bellow, “Damn! I thought we’d lost you. But there it was, right in front of my eyes. That’s fire, that fury, that was proof, it’s still there. Even if we the Company never get to see it.”



It took everything in me not to respond while I was in the street. I’m under enough watchful eyes as it is. I treaded into the private housing building, pausing at the stair side with burning skin.

Emilio entered mere moments afterward, “Whit’s yer problem?”



The Brazilian tilted his head slightly and squinted at me with a knifes edge glint within his pupils. Without warning, he charged forward, shoving my body against the wall and violently slamming my wrists on each side of my head with bruising grip.



“You. You think that you can just go and find yourself some little boy toy? I don’t think so.” His face came closer, looming over my hateful glare. “He can’t have you. It’s you. I want you.”



For a moment I focused all of my anger, frustration, hate, into a glower directed at him and him alone. I thrust my knee into his inner thigh, Emilio loosened his grip plenty enough for me to slide out and slip and arm around his neck and tighten. Emilio swung his balled fist downward, beating bruises into the side of my thigh. The hallway beside the stairs was narrow, so narrow that it hardly held the two of us. I used the opposing wall as aback board to propel us forward, crashing his face into the stair side. He made a gargling sound before blood burst from his nose and he slunk to the  floor, face in his hands and fury filled emotion replaced with one of pain.



I snatched a fistful of dark hair and tilted his head back while I crouched by his side, hard eyes analyzing the nasal damage. “I am not yours, I will ne’er be yours, nor will I ever be anyone’s. ‘N’ the nex’ time you mention my rage, I won’ be so merciful.” I threw back his head, rising and turning to leave as he stood.



“Bit –”, I swung my hand back, striking his cheek, one of the straps of the glove snagged the yellowing skin, splitting it open. Blood welled in the cut and began to seep out. Emilio just blinked dumbfoundedly at me. Without another word, I turned and climbed the stairs.