Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

48. Kenji

FORTY-EIGHT

KENJI

COMATOSE

Day 444

It simultaneously feels like no time has passed, and so much time has passed. The night stretches endlessly, a blur of chaotic moments. After checking in with the two men who went off with Todd to confirm that there were no more infected roaming about and explaining to him and a few others that Mr. Abel didn’t make it, we got going on the clean-up. Each step feels heavy, weighed down by loss and the fear lingering in the air.

The barn, filled with laughter and the warmth of community just earlier in the evening, is now a sad scene. The tables are overturned, dishes are shattered, and the remnants of the potluck are scattered across the ground. The three of us work in silence; our movements are mechanical, and each of us is lost in our thoughts. In hushed tones, people talk about how terrifying the night was. They share their grief over the loss of one of their own and whisper theories about how the zombies got in to begin with. The air is thick with sadness and unease, each word a reminder of the vulnerability we’re all feeling now.

Until we can speak to Jay about what he found during his perimeter check, we won’t know where the breach was or what the situation looked like. And I don’t think we’ll get anything else from Jay tonight. Mr. Hill came back out about an hour into our clean-up, letting us know that Jay was fine—as fine as he could be with the death of a loved one—and that he just needed some space.

Space. Sometimes when people say they need it, they really don’t. They don’t need to be alone, suffering by themselves. They need love and support, silent companionship to show them that they’re not alone. So, I agree to give Jay some space tonight, but tonight’s all he will get. Mr. Abel’s final words ring through my mind on repeat, reminding me that I was beginning to consider Jay a brother even before all of this happened. And what’s family for, if not being there for you at your lowest points?

As we clear the debris, my mind tracks to Farron, someone else who asked for space tonight. It seems abundantly clear to me by this point that Farron is a suffer-in-silence type, choosing to isolate herself to protect others from her own trauma and struggles. I can’t get the image of her as she shut down out of my mind, the way her eyes suddenly went dull, and her body seemed to give up entirely. She became a shell of the vibrant, fierce woman I know.

This is why, after the guys and I showered, and Adrian and Theo fell into an exhausted sleep, I slipped out of the main house and over to the little cottage just a few ways away. The night is quiet, and the only sounds are the soft rustling of leaves and the quiet chirps from the occasional cricket. As I approach Farron’s cottage, my heart clenches in my chest. She always puts on a front like she’s strong and independent, but tonight I know she needs someone. I know she shouldn’t be alone.

The light in her window is still on, casting a warm glow against the darkness. I hesitate for a moment, unsure if my presence will be welcome. Steeling myself, I knock softly on the door.

“Farron, it’s Kenji,” I whisper, barely audible. “Can I come in?”

There’s a drawn-out pause, each moment stretching into eternity as I await a response. When none comes, my anxiety flares, a tight knot constricting my chest. I knock again, the sound echoing in the stillness of the night. With deliberate slowness, I turn the doorknob, the door swinging open with a soft creak. “Farron?”

Silence greets me, thick and suffocating.

Magnum comes running up to me, and his tail wags as I bend down to stroke his fur, the little rat’s presence centering me. But as I resume my search, the house's silence becomes deafening, amplifying the ache in my heart with every empty room I encounter. The living room is empty of Farron's presence. And when I step into her bedroom, my hopes are wiped out when I see her empty bed. Magnum's gentle nudge draws me to look down at him, and he begins guiding me towards the bathroom. I follow his lead, not ready for the heart-wrenching sight that awaits.

My gaze lands on Farron, her figure hunched on the cold tiles of the shower floor, despite the absence of running water. She sits in her underwear and a tank top, arms tightly wrapped around her knees. The clothes she wore earlier lie in disarray on the floor, tossed aside as if she couldn’t bear to wear them any longer. The light of the bathroom illuminates the raw anguish etched into her features, blood spatters still mar her face. Her eyes hold a vacant emptiness that pierces me to the core. She sits there, a statue frozen in time, unseeing and unmoving.

I lower myself beside her, calling her name, but she remains unresponsive, her gaze fixed on some unseen horizon. It's as if she's retreated into herself. The chill of the tiles seeps into my bones as I reach out to touch her. Her skin is like ice beneath my fingertips, and panic tightens its grip around my heart.

Taking a moment to collect my thoughts, I make a decision and shed my clothes. With a determined resolve, I step into the shower and get the water going. Carefully adjusting the temperature, I ensure that it's just right before sliding in behind Farron. Gently, I draw her back against my chest, enveloping her in the warmth of my embrace. Despite my manhandling, she remains eerily still, as if lost. But I refuse to give up, holding her close as I begin the task of bringing her back to life.

Eventually, I reach for the shampoo, lathering it into her hair with slow, deliberate movements. After rinsing away the suds, I move on to the conditioner, massaging it into the ends of her hair with gentle fingers. The scent of coconut and jasmine fills the air, and I feel her body slowly thaw against mine, although she remains unmoving. Next comes the body wash, which I gently lather in my hands before bringing it to her skin. I work methodically, tracing the contours of her body with careful precision. Her underwear and tank top are soaked with water, clinging to her skin like a second skin.

Finally, I turn my attention to her face, my movements careful as I gently wipe away the dried blood that mars her complexion. As I work to remove all traces of tonight from her skin, her gaze finally comes up to meet mine, and a flicker of recognition ignites within her eyes.

“Kenji?” she whispers, her voice fragile with emotion.

I smile softly, my heart swelling with relief at the sound of her voice. “Hey, Farron,” I reply, my eyes burning. “I'm just here to help you get cleaned up. You've been out of it for a little while.”

She nods, tears streaming down her cheeks as the torment of her ordeal finally catches up with her. “Kenji,” she repeats, her voice breaking as she begins to sob.

Without hesitation, I shut off the water and reach for a towel, wrapping it carefully around her trembling form. Gathering her into my arms, I carry her to her bed, holding her close as she lets out all the pain she's been keeping inside. She cries and cries, loud sobs painfully racking her body, her anguish almost a tangible thing. I hold her tightly, running my hands in soothing motions across her arms and back. When her heart rate picks up, and she starts panicking, I tell her what I always told Theo when we were kids. “Come on, princess. Deep breath in. Hold for three. Deep breath out. You can do it.”

Magnum jumps onto the bed and curls up next to us, offering comfort to Farron, too. I’m not sure how long we lay there like that until she finally calms down, her sobs now soft hiccups.

“Thank you.” Her whispered gratitude pierces the air, breaking the heavy silence. “You didn’t have to do any of that,” she murmurs, her voice laced with vulnerability. Each word carries the true extent of her gratitude.

A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips. “You’re crazy if you thought I was going to leave you alone tonight, Princess,” I respond, a soft murmur echoing hers.

As Farron rises to dress herself, I can't help but watch her movements with a mixture of admiration and concern. My curiosity piques when she returns, clad in a pair of sweatpants and my hoodie. I raise an eyebrow, but she merely offers a nonchalant shrug and a little smirk.

“Let me just get this blanket off the bed and get out of these wet briefs, okay?” She gives me a small nod while I grab the blanket and run to the bathroom, taking off my underwear and putting on my sweatpants. When I return, she has a new blanket on the bed. She watches me climb back in before jumping back onto the bed, settling herself on my lap and in my arms again.

I hold her close, soaking in her presence, knowing I don’t deserve it. We sit silently for a moment, the air heavy with unspoken words and lingering regrets. “You didn’t have to do that tonight, Farron,” I finally break the silence, my voice soft with sincerity. “You didn’t need to put yourself through that. I would have stepped in for you. ”

Her head shakes, and I look down to see tears tracing silent rivers down her cheeks. “It’s not the first or even second death on my hands, Kenji,” she cryptically admits, giving me a glimpse of just how deep her pain and guilt go. Before I can probe further, she continues, a steadfast determination in her voice. “I wasn’t going to let someone else carry the burden of something like that. I don’t want you, Theo, or Adrian to have this on your conscience.”

Her words hang heavy in the air, a stark reminder of her sacrifice to shield us tonight. I'm momentarily stunned by her selflessness, by the depth of her compassion even in the darkest of hours. It's a humbling realization that cuts through the layers of misunderstanding and resentment that have clouded my judgment.

In that moment, I'm flooded with regret for the harsh words and unwarranted animosity I've directed towards her ever since we got here. I've been intentionally blind to her strength, to her unwavering loyalty to the people she cares for.

“I’m so sorry, Farron,” I begin, my words heavy with remorse. “I am so sorry for what I said to you the other day. I didn’t know Holden was your brother, and I’ve always felt responsible for Adrian and Theo as if it was my job to take care of them and protect them. And everything here is so new, it’s easy to see why they fell for you… I just didn’t know how to handle everything.”

Her response comes on a shaky exhale, her voice carrying the sting of past hurt. “I understand,” she murmurs, her tone tinged with resignation. “I understand wanting to protect your family. But that doesn’t take away from what you said to me, Kenji. You were awful and harsh, and I don’t think I deserved any of that.”

“You didn’t,” I agree, the sincerity in my voice unmistakable. “You didn’t deserve any of my anger or cruelty. And I’ll show you just how sorry I am for how I treated you.”

Her wet curls brush against my jaw as she nods, her exhaustion palpable. “That whole ‘deep breath in, hold for three’ thing… Theo had me do something like that a few days ago when I was panicking. Did you teach him that?”

“I did,” I admit to her. “When he first lost his mom and was adopted by mine, he had a lot of nightmares. When he’d wake up in the middle of the night, I’d help him breathe like that to calm him down.”

“That’s really sweet,” She admits, a soft smile gracing her face. “Can you tell me something about yourself?” she asks, her words punctuated by a soft yawn. “Maybe tell me your perspective about when Theo snuck away to go to a concert all for some girl, only to get stood up?”

A snort escapes me at the memory. “He told you about that, did he?” I chuckle. And so I do. I share with her the events of that night, recounting my frustration with Theo's impulsive decision (she notes that I’m perpetually grumpy and frustrated) and Adrian’s jealousy at not being invited when he learned what happened (she laughs and says that sounds like Adrian).

Her hand comes up, fingertips gently brushing the tattoo on my chest. “Can you tell me about your tattoos? I didn’t even know you had any.”

I hum softly, deciding to start from the beginning. “The one you’re touching right now is an Oni mask. I was adopted when I was a kid after years in foster care and struggled feeling like I didn’t fit in sometimes. I don’t know anything about my biological parents other than the fact that my birth mom was Japanese. In Japanese culture, Oni demons are meant to ward off evil–they’re a sign of protection. The flower behind it is a chrysanthemum. They can mean different things, but for me, it’s another symbol of protection. ”

“Wow. It really is beautiful,” she whispers, her voice so quiet I have to strain to hear her. Her fingertips still brush softly against my chest, sending shivers down my spine. “What about the ones I saw on your back?”

“My back is one big piece. It’s a large dragon surrounded by waves meant to signify strength and resilience. I have some more chrysanthemums in the piece, too.”

“What does the dragon symbolize?” she asks.

“Protection,” I murmur, and I feel her head shift as she looks up at me. I know what question is on the tip of her tongue, and I know she wants to figure out everything about me right now. Whatever she sees on my face, however, must warn her against asking, and she simply readjusts herself, her palm now fully resting against my chest.

As the night wears on, I open up to her more than I imagined. I don’t tell her the heavy stuff–she’s had enough of that for tonight–but I do tell her other things. I tell her about my time as a firefighter with Adrian and how much it strengthened our bond. I tell her about some of the challenges the three of us faced together before arriving here and how nervous Theo was before each new place. And with each word, I feel her body grow heavier in my arms, her exhaustion finally overtaking her.

I gently kiss the top of her head before tucking her under the covers, Magnum settling in beside her immediately. As I dress and prepare to leave, without my hoodie this time, I steal one last glance at Farron, taking in her peaceful expression while asleep.

Tonight has changed everything, I realize as I make my way back to the main house. Farron is no longer someone I see as an enemy or a frustration—she's something more. She's mine, I think, just as much as she is Theo’s and Adrian’s. And as I drift off to sleep, her presence and the feel of her in my arms lingers in my thoughts.