Desolation ✔️

Chapter 16: Gut Instinct

I roll over on the bed when sunlight burns my eyes. For once, I'm not awoken by thudding, screaming, sirens, or water in the face. But the silence alone is enough to pull me from my sleep. My eyes snap open. I blink the grogginess from sleep away; rub my eyes. The room sharpens around me, and I come face to face with—

An empty spot on the bed.

I push myself upright, hair falling into my eyes. Ash's room is illuminated by a pinkish-orange glow from the sunrise. His door is partially open and the bed sheets are ruffled. My flannel is on the back of the chair, where Ash promised to put it. But he's not in the room.

"Ash?" I call out. No response.

I crawl to the edge of the bed where he should have been sleeping and throw my legs over the side. I can't remember much from last night; I was out in an instant. What happened after that? Did Ash ever join me? I wonder what Carter would say if he knew I just spent the night in a somewhat-stranger's bed. Would he lecture me for being careless? Advise I check over myself in case Ash convinced me to trust him so he could have his way with me?

I push the questions away. Why do I even care about Carter's opinion in the first place? He's not here. Yet I'm relying on him, still. Making up conversations we'd have, still.

I hop off the bed and pad over to my belongings. They're exactly as I left them.

"Ash?" I call again, grabbing my handgun from near the chair. I'm surprised how routine grabbing my gun is becoming.

The house is eerily silent. Well, the Safe House incident can't happen twice, can it?

On second thought...

I hurry out of the room, nearly smacking myself with the door as I yank it open. My feet carry me towards the stairs and I pause, my gun up. My back is pressed to the wall and I grab the railing with my free hand. I listen.

"Ash..." I call, but my voice trails off. How many horror movies have I seen where calling out to the silence only results in death?

Instead, I creep down the steps. One step, two step, three... I reach the bottom of the stairs without a problem, my eyes roaming the kitchen. The blown-out candles still decorate the counters, table, and floors. Looks like there was a séance or demonic ritual last night rather than an innocent conversation between a boy and girl.

Innocent. I don't know why, but I laugh.

"What are you doing?"

I jump. My attention turns towards the front window. I breathe a sigh of relief and lower my gun. There he is, camo pants, white t-shirt with a black button-up over it, dog tags sparkling against his chest. He's wearing his combat boots and replaced the black gloves. Today, his usually messy chestnut hair appears to have been brushed. But though the fear previously gripping my heart eases, I can't steady the beating. Something tells me it has nothing to do with the fear and everything to do with the sight of Ash. What is wrong with me?

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," I breathe.

"I tend to do that," he says plainly, his eyes dropping to my holster before jumping back to my face. "But usually, it's not out of genuine fear." He smirks at that last part.

"Ha-ha, you're funny," I say with a shake of my head. "Did you sleep on the floor last night?" I vaguely recall seeing a pillow and blanket next to the bed before I dashed out of the room.

He props a foot up on a stool near the window and rests his elbow on his knee. "I didn't think you'd notice."

Of course I noticed. Why I noticed, I'm not quite sure...maybe because a part of me was curious to see what it would be like waking up next to Ash? And when I didn't, I was just slightly disappointed. Just kidding. Really. "I thought the whole point of going to the room was to avoid sleeping on the hard floors."