Lincoln’s lazy smile had become a bad-tempered scowl, and I wasn’t the only one now treading on eggshells around him. I’d not spoken to him past pleasantries prior to this, and I had a feeling I’d go straight back to limited communication as soon as I could. He clearly had a short fuse, and I wasn’t planning on holding any more matches to it.
“What are we actually out here for?” I dared to ask as we walked, realising I had no idea what I was looking for. We were heading towards a mall, meaning we could be hunting for any number of things.
“We’re low on pretty much everything at the moment,” Emma sighed, “but the main purpose of today is ammo because some people are trigger happy.”
Holden grunted, instantly recognising her veiled insult to be relating to him.
“Ain’t no need for that there talk, is there?” he protested, though his voice was laced with fondness, as was hers. She gave him a cheeky smile and turned back to me.
“There’s an arms store in here somewhere, perhaps they’ll have ammo left.”
“Have you been in here before?” I asked, gesturing to the mall.
“No,” Lincoln cut in, “and there’s likely to be biters, so you better have your damn act together.”
“Lincoln,” Emma warned, glaring at him.
“I’m looking out for us, Emma. I’m trying to make sure we don’t die because of the weak link here,” he pointed at me, but kept his distance as though I was poisonous. “Whose idea was it to bring her along anyway?”
I raised my eyebrows, slightly taken aback that he spoke about me that way so openly.
Emma pursed her lips at him, “Coralee-”
“Oh, of course Coralee thought it was a good idea, but didn’t even check if she was capable,” he interrupted, before turning to me. “Were you spoken to about this?”
“No,” I answered, biting my tongue hard. “I wasn’t told until this morning.”
Lincoln turned back to Emma, throwing his arms in the air in exasperation, “So Cora just thought she’d lump her with us without telling anyone.”
“She told me,” Holden shrugged, “now will you keep your voice down? For someone so set on safety, you sure are fixing to get us into trouble.”
Lincoln shot a scowl at him as we reached the mall entrance, before turning to me, “You, keep a lookout behind.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, slightly more patronisingly than I meant to, earning myself a glare from him.

Lincoln led us in through the doors covertly, closely followed by Emma and Holden, with myself bringing up the rear. He froze suddenly, motioning for us all to be still.
“There’s fucking loads in here,” he whispered, "I can see their silhouettes."
“What do we do?” Emma whispered back, straining to see past him. “We’re not taking them right?”
He turned back to her, “Of course we are, we need the fucking ammo.”
“We can’t take ammo back if we’re dead,” she hissed at him. “Besides, we don’t even know there’s anything in there.”
“Aren’t you willing to take a chance?” he shot back.
“Lincoln, really?” she raised an eyebrow at him.
“How many’s do you see in there?” Holden cut in, drawing Lincoln’s attention away from his heated words with Emma.
“I don’t know,” he sighed, turning back to try and assess the situation. “Maybe twenty?”
“Well then here’s what I’ve got to thinking,” he announced, clearing his throat. “The way I see it, if we go quiet and slow then we can take them one by one. Lord willing and the creek don’t rise, then we’ll get all the way there, no problem.”
“But twenty, Holden? Maybe more?” Emma groaned, but Holden shrugged.
“We ain’t gonna be calling them over all at once,” he reasoned.
A silence fell over the trio as they considered their options. Emma looked my way.
“What do you think, Marina?” she asked, her eyes begging for my input.
“Why are you asking her?” Lincoln scoffed in disbelief. “I’m sure she just wants to go home.”
“Excuse me?” I narrowed my eyes at him. Though I did want to go back to the safety of farming, my opposition to his judgement of my character made me speak up.
“Let’s do it.”

It had been a while since I’d left the lounge. Neither Jimmy nor Brian had materialised as of yet. The waiting was making me nervous, so I headed back to the poolside, where I found myself once again twiddling a cigarette and a zippo lighter between my fingers. I wasn’t sure why I was seemingly adamant on taking up smoking again, but this world was a killer for anxiety and long waits - something that I remembered cigarettes being a prime remedy for.
I’d powered through three quarters of a cigarette when Matt joined me.
“Didn’t know you were a nicotine fiend,” he raised an eyebrow as he lit his own cigarette.
“Yeah, I’m kind of… just…” I trailed off, leaving him hanging. He didn’t seem to mind, taking a seat on the lounger next to my own.
“Can we talk?” he asked, suddenly intensely focused on his cigarette. I hesitated, remembering the all-too-recent ‘talk’ we’d not long had. That, accompanied with his apparent desire to be anywhere else in the world did not bode well.
“Do I have a choice?” I teased, giving him an awkward smile.
“No,” he laughed, puffing out a cloud of smoke. “I wanted to apologise.”
“Apologise?” I asked, taking a drag of my own cigarette. The movement was still bizarrely alien to me, but I pushed through the feeling of unfamiliarity.
“Marina,” he began, uneasily, “I’ve spent a long time trying to keep Brian afloat. He’s never gotten over Blair. Ever. And shit like him being blackout drunk in the middle of the day? That just felt way too much like it did when it first happened. It took a lot of work to get him on the straight and narrow. Seeing him come undone so quickly, and Jimmy too with all the fighting…”
“I’m sorry,” I apologised quietly, “I didn’t meant to stir things up.”
“No, Marina. That's not what I'm getting at. I’ve just started realising that maybe I’ve not been doing things the right way. Brian’s never talked about her, or cried over her… And yet, what, three days after you arrive? We’ve got this,” he took a long drag on his cigarette as he eyed me.
“I don’t know if I’d count mental breakdowns as a good thing,” I laughed, nervously.
Matt flicked the ash from his smoke as I stubbed mine out, “I don’t know if I’d count never acknowledging the past as a good thing.”
I looked at him seriously, “So, what are you trying to tell me here?”
“I’m trying to tell you that maybe you don’t have to go,” he admitted, meeting my gaze. “But… maybe cool things with Jimmy until Brian is in a better place.”
“Okay,” I said, slowly. I turned the lighter over in my hands, flicking it into life periodically.
“You’re a good thing for Jimmy,” he smiled, leaning over to put a hand on my arm. “He’s always been annoyingly energetic, but he lights up around you.”
I looked up at him, my interest suitably piqued, “Does he?”
“We all like having you around. And Hallie,” he added, unaware that her name felt like a knife twisting in my side at present. “Stick around for a bit?”
I nodded as he finished his cigarette and stubbed it out. With a friendly wave, he disappeared inside, leaving me with whiplash from his back and forth attitude. I looked out at the ocean, remembering the feeling of Jimmy’s soft touch on my skin, my breathlessness at his kisses. Did he light up around me? I know I did around him. He brought out a better side of me, a side that loved fun and silliness. I’d not been her for a long time, and I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed her. I realised that I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

I headed back inside, wondering if I should check in on Jimmy and Brian. Something that Jimmy had said was needling into my mind though.
“Where’s all her shit, Brian? Still fucking locked away.”
Did he mean Blair’s stuff was here somewhere? I’d not even considered the absence of her existence in the house, but when I really looked around, there was no evidence that Brian had ever had a wife. No photos, no clothing or jewellery, nothing. Jimmy had one of her rings of course, but I’d not seen anything like that with Brian. I could see why a storm might have been brewing if he was only just starting to acknowledge that she was no longer here. How long had he been hiding from her? A burning curiosity was growing in my mind – what was she like? What did she look like? How long were she and Brian together? Did they have children? He’d not mentioned any, though he’d only spoken about Blair when I’d probed, and that had required alcohol to bloom into an actual conversation. I tiptoed to the lounge door and stood silently outside of it, listening. It was still quiet in there, save for Brian’s soft sniffs. Now was not the time to intrude, Jimmy and Jimmy alone was obviously what Brian needed right now; so I slunk away, trying to decide whether instead to venture a different route into Brian’s past.

I knew it was wrong, but Blair was whispering in my ear, begging me to find her, to dig up her secrets. Unearthing Blair’s secrets would have been a dirty graft though, and Brian would have ended up stained with my dishonesty. I couldn’t see that going down well with anyone. I tried to push the urge away, but found myself pacing the house, thinking more and more about it. It was a bad idea, I knew it was, and yet I found myself considering inspecting rooms, looking for any trace of Blair. I’d not spent much time in Brian’s home, there were definitely rooms I’d not been privy to. Ignoring the nagging feeling of treachery that was trying to gnaw at my confidence in my decision, I started turning door knobs one by one. There was no sign of her in the old studio, nor the library. Nothing screamed Blair in any of the bathrooms as I poked into the cupboards. Finding nothing, I soon found myself standing outside of Brian’s room with my fingers on the handle. I hesitated, my hand trembling and my breath held in anticipation. If I crossed this line, there would be no going back. I pulled my hand away, instead pacing the landing. There was no way I could do that. It was a step too far.
“What are you doing?” Hallie hissed from her room, making me jump.
“Hallie-”
“Actually, I don’t want to know. I don’t fucking care,” she snarled, slamming the door. I stood staring at the grain in the wood where her face had been just seconds ago, fazed by her hatred. I couldn’t go digging any more, not unless I wanted another person looking at me the way she did. I heaved a sigh, making my way downstairs again. Once I’d reached the bottom, I made to cross the hallway to my room, but a small doorway caught my eye. It was built into the side of the stairs, well disguised and easy to miss, but obvious now I’d noticed it. I bit my lip, wondering which side of my conscience to give into. It’s not a bedroom, I reasoned, I’ve never been told it’s off limits…

My fingers curled around the handle, quietly twisting it. The door swung open to reveal a staircase. A basement… I cast one last look around, the guilty teenager rearing her head again, and slipped into the dark, pulling the door shut behind me. I was now in the pitch black, teetering at the top of the stairs. Digging in my pocket, I found the lighter I’d stashed earlier after my attempted rekindling of my relationship with nicotine. The small flame danced, softly illuminating the stairs just enough for me to fumble my way through the cobwebs, down to the bottom. I finally felt the wood give way to a cold, hard cement floor. Holding the lighter up higher, I squinted into the darkness. It wasn’t a basement, it was-
“A wine cellar, of course,” I said aloud, laughing softly at the extravagance of it all. From the way he sank beers, I’d not pegged Brian at all as a wine fan, but there were enough bottles here to sustain a lifetime of drinking the stuff. Perhaps it was Blair’s collection, I thought, creeping forwards. In the very edge of the flame’s pool of light, I could just make out the outline of something. I stretched my arm out further, straining my eyes to make out... stacks of boxes? Was this… Could it be? I knelt down, running my fingers over the dusty cardboard. Apprehension flooded me; I was about to open the Haner equivalent of Pandora’s box. I could just open one, I reasoned, I didn’t even have to touch the contents. I could just peek and see if it was what I thought it was.
I dropped the lighter for a moment, encasing myself in darkness. My fingers blindly felt their way across the box and slid under the lid of their own accord, lifting it gingerly. A sweet, woody scent laced with stale smoke emanated from the contents as I placed the lid gently to the side of me, and then swept my fingers across the floor until I found the lighter again. I flicked it a couple of times until it ignited, and then gently balanced it upright nearby. Try not to burn the place down, Marina.

Laying across the top of the box, folded meticulously, was a small, black leather jacket. Too small for Brian… My heart raced as I put two and two together. I suddenly felt nauseated at my own behaviour. What am I doing? This was real, this was private. It was not mine to be looking at. I firmly replaced the lid of the box and grabbed the lighter, creeping back up the stairs in shame. I listened at the door for movement, before inching it open and sneaking back out from the basement. Though I’d not been caught, part of me wished I had. I felt like I deserved to be raked across the coals for what I’d done. Flicking the lighter closed, I figured my time would be better spent in my room, brooding over my lack of self-control. I made it to the doorway when his voice called out to me.

“Marina?”
I turned, guilt flooding through my veins, “Brian.”
“I’m sorry,” he began, croakily. His chocolate eyes were red-rimmed, their lids heavy with emotion.
“Don’t apologise, Brian, you haven’t done anything,” I smiled, weakly. He tread wearily over to me, blinking forcefully as if to try and avoid more tears.
“Why don’t you come in?” I suggested. He took up my offer without hesitation, following me into the room that had become mine. He sat beside me at the edge of the sofa bed, hunched over his knees. He didn’t look at me, but I didn’t mind because I was having trouble looking at him as well. That one item of clothing was burning in my mind, fueling the fire of my guilt.
“Jimmy’s looking for you,” he mumbled, still staring down at his legs.
“Is that what you came in here to say?” I asked, employing my own avoidance technique of picking at a scab on my hand.
“No,” he admitted, with a slight shake of his head, falling silent. He had been quiet for a minute, playing with a loose thread on his jeans, when he suddenly looked up at me. “Do you think I’ve forgotten Blair? As an outsider, does it look that way?”
He stunned me out of my shame, and I looked over to him, “Uhh-”
“Tell me the truth,” he begged, his soft features lined heavily with sorrow.
“I don’t think you’ve forgotten her,” I said, slowly, “but maybe…”
“Yes?” he encouraged, his eyes pleading with me, silently.
“Do you think maybe it’s time to stop hiding from her?” I asked, softly. He stared me down as he searched for words, wading through his conflicted mind for the right reaction.
“Hiding?” he repeated, eventually. “I’m not hiding.”
I turned back to my scab, avoiding his intense gaze, “Look around, Brian. Is she here?”
“I can feel her, everywhere,” he whispered, mournfully. “It’s suffocating. Putting her stuff away lessened it. I needed to do it so I could breathe again.”
“Are you happier for it though, Brian? When you spoke about her yesterday, you were glowing. Why don’t you let her in again?” I pressed, looking back to him.
“Yesterday, I was drunk,” he muttered, his face turning sour.
“Yesterday, you were in love with her,” I corrected. “Remember what you told me about? When she was scoffing gas station hot dogs with Jimmy, when you restored her car for her, when you took her out in a kayak on an empty lake, so it was just the two of you? Those are the things you want to cower away from, and yet they bring you such joy to think about.”
His mouth twisted and his breath hitched with emotion, “But I also lost her, Marina. I held her as she took her last breath. All I can see is the light leaving her eyes. All I can hear is how scared she was when she knew what was happening.”
I pulled him into me, my eyes watering. I wasn’t just crying for him or Blair, though, they were tears for myself as well. Brian could never have known that he’d just walked me through my own loss, as well as his own. He’d unknowingly called upon Viola, and she’d placed a ghostly hand on my shoulder, letting her blood and gasps seep into my memories. Just as Brian had held Blair close in her last moments, I’d held Viola. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, as we both wept silent tears.
“Brian?” I whispered into him, “Can we listen to her album?”
He stiffened slightly at my suggestion, “What for?”
“Do you really want the last thing you heard from her to be her last breath?”
“Marina,” he protested, weakly.
“I’ll listen with you,” I offered, pushing forwards, “don’t you want to hear her voice?”
“Of course I do, but I don’t think I’m ready,” he murmured, sitting up straight.
“Sure you are,” I encouraged, though if I was being truthful, I didn’t know if he was ready or not. Could you ever be ready for something like that? He looked at me, as though trying to assess my confidence of his readiness. As he studied me, his eyes travelled up to my hair and a smile flickered across his face.
“You’ve got cobwebs in your hair, where have you been?” He asked, amused. A fleeting look of panic and guilt crossed my face, one that he caught. His smile faded in an instant as he clicked, and his face hardened.
“Where have you been?”

Notes

I wasn't meant to end with drama, I swear. I can't help myself!!