Marked
Chapter 25

The wait was the hardest.

They sat gathered outside the infirmary, hoping to catch any scraps of information anyone would drop during conversation.

So far, they had nothing.

Nurses and doctors worked quietly and the steady beeping of monitors drifted from behind closed doors.

It would be a while before they let anyone who had been rescued out with the others but the need to be close when they did was almost a physical force.

Juan leaned his head against the wall, tapping one thumbnail against the other. Hector sat next to him in a crouched position and Rachel tried not to think too much of their kiss earlier that day. Her priority had to be finding out who had been found, not daydreaming about the way his mouth had felt on hers.

It was clear in the set of the Hernandez brother’s faces that they were only there out of moral support. They had seen their mother killed and their younger sisters taken by the capital. They had nobody to look forward to seeing.

Finding her mother among the rescued was a long shot, so she didn’t allow herself to even hope.

After all, she had never had that kind of luck.

But it was Simone they were all really there for.

She paced the hall so many times Rachel thought she would leave a permanent mark on the floor. Back at the compound, Simone had had a full family- two wonderful, loving parents and a younger sister.

Rachel hadn’t seen any of them when the poachers had gathered up the compounders so she prayed—for her friend’s sake—that when the time came, at least one of them stepped through those doors.

What felt like a string of silence later, Debra rounded the corner and strode toward them, a tray of food and drinks balanced between her skinny hands.

“I figured I wouldn’t be able to convince any of you to join me for dinner so I brought you something to eat instead.”

“Thank you, Debra. We appreciate it.” Hector replied.

“No problem. What are counselors for?”

She set the tray down with a clatter and tiny cups of green liquid sloshed around and almost spilled over.

Rachel picked one up and downed it, her face twisting a little at the sour-sweet taste.

“Lemonade,” Debra explained. “There used to be this saying before the transition. If life gives you lemons, you make lemonade. But you can’t really make lemonade without sugar...”

Rachel looked at Debra as she awkwardly trailed off.

If she was trying to give a motivational speech, she wasn’t doing a very good job.

“How long do you think it will be before anyone is cleared to join us?” Hector asked.

He tipped his head back and the green liquid disappeared into his mouth, leaving behind a residual line of water across his bottom lip.

Rachel shook her head, willing herself to stop being distracted by him.

“It’s hard to say. First, they need to be physically evaluated and then pass their simulations. Most people can fly through those with no problem. Others,” She eyed Rachel but her gaze flitted quickly away as if she realized she was being rude. “Take a little longer. You guys probably won’t find out anything tonight, though. I know you don’t want to hear this but why don’t you try to get some rest and come back in the morning with a fresh mindset?”

“I think you’re right,” Juan said, standing from a chair in the hospital’s waiting area. “It ain’t doing us no good just sitting ’round here like idiots. Either way, they’re not gonna let us see anyone so we might as well catch some z’s while we can.”

“Simone?” Rachel said, gently touching her arm.

Simone stared longingly at the closed hospital doors. “Fine, yeah, whatever. I’ll get some sleep.”

Silently, they all made their way to the girls’ dorms. At Simone’s door, Rachel spun to bid the guys goodnight.

“Ray, I think...I think I’d like to be alone tonight.” Simone said, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

Rachel opened her mouth and closed it. She understood, of course, she did--Simone had never been one to like breaking down in front of anyone, not even Rachel. But it still felt wrong to leave her alone right now.

“I’ll be okay, really. I just need to be alone for a little while.”

She wrapped her arms around her best friend and gave her a squeeze. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.”

“I’ll be okay, sweetie,” Simone said, with a smile. “Good night.”

The three of them, Rachel, Juan, and Hector stood outside Simone’s closed door, now pitch black, and exchanged looks.

“Well, I’m going to bed. No use all of us being sleep-deprived. Plus, I need my beauty sleep. Hey, don’t look at me like that St. Rachel. It takes effort to look this good.”

Rachel shot him a half-smile and then reached out to squeeze his arm. “Thank you for staying, Juan. It was kind of you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I just didn’t want to be left out.”

“He hates people thinking he’s soft,” Hector said to her as they both watched Juan’s retreating form. “But he does care.”

“I know,” Rachel smiled.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to your room.”

They fell into step beside each other, down the brightly lit corridor of the women’s dormitories. This late at night, nearly every door was set to privacy black.

Rachel’s heart thundered in her chest. It’d been easy to reel in her emotions when she was in protective mode and when she knew she had to be strong for Simone, but now, her own worry consumed her.

What if Jed was there? Or her mother?

What if--

She reminded herself not to hope.

Hope had a way of hollowing you out with the promise of things that could be. But it was the not knowing that really killed you.

“Are you alright?” Hector asked as they reached her room.

“It’s just...logically, I know Jed must be gone. Marked. It’s been weeks since he left for the city. But I keep thinking...I keep hoping I will see him walk through those hospital doors.”

“Oh, Rachel,” he said in his low, gentle voice, reserved, she thought happily, only for her. He brushed back a loose curl behind her ear that had escaped her bun.

“I know Jose is gone. I saw him die. Yet sometimes I still think I’m going to see him around a corner or when I walk into a room.”

She squeezed his hand, hating the sadness that crept into his eyes. “I suppose what I really am, is terrified. Of how disappointed I’ll be when we meet the survivors tomorrow and he is not among them. I'm so sorry, about Jose, Hector, you lost your brother and here I am...”

"Here you are," He interrupted, "Hurting over yours. What can I do?"

He took a step closer to her and pulled her into the circle of his arms. His embrace was warm and comforting. She fit perfectly against his chest and his chin rested on the crown of her head. She could hear his heartbeat, which, as she wrapped her arms around his waist, quickened slightly.

“Will you stay? I don’t want to be alone tonight,” She whispered into his shirt. "You can sleep on the couch,” She quickly added, as she pulled away to look at him. “Although, it is lumpy and not the most comfortable, so I totally understand if you want to rest in your own bed...” She rambled on, unable to stop.

Had she really just invited him to stay the night?

His lips turned up into a small smile and he glanced at her closed door.

"How lumpy are we talking?"

"You'll wake up feeling ten years older kind of lumpy."

"Can't be worse than the mountain," He teased. "I’ll gladly sleep on a lumpy couch for you, Rachel. But only for you.”

"You sweet talker," She muttered and he laughed a laugh that did things to her insides.

With reddening cheeks, Rachel drew from his embrace and swiped at her door.

The room beyond was neat. A bed, big enough, she noted with embarrassment, to fit two. A gray couch on the opposite side, a small white desk separating the two with a gold reading lamp on it.

As she pulled an extra set of blankets from the well-stocked closet by the door, Hector strode into the room, shrugging off his jacket and setting it over the chair.

As she turned, she saw that he was studying her open sketchpad which lay on the desk.

Color rose to her cheeks as she remembered the last thing she’d drawn. Him, in the forest, bow in hand...

“I um--” She stammered. “I was trying to get the gold in your eyes right...”

Hector looked up at her through his eyelashes, an escaped curl hanging against his forehead.

“I remember this place,” His voice was thoughtful. He looked at her with a quiet consideration that made her want to disappear or melt. “It’s the place the river leaves the mountain. Where we first met.”

“It was just a silly drawing,” She said, curling her fingers into the pile of blankets in her arms. At that moment, she sort of wanted to disappear.

“Not silly. It’s lovely and not many things are in this world. Don’t ever stop drawing.”

He took the blankets from her with a small, crooked smile and strode over to the couch.

Rachel glanced at him as she sat at the edge of her bed and he settled into the sofa. He unlaced his boots and set them neatly at the foot of the sofa.

"Do you mind...if I take off my shirt?" He asked as he ran his fingers through his hair. "It's normally how I sleep."

Rachel swallowed and nodded her head, taking a moment to slide under her blankets, pulling the sheets up to her chin. Tilting her head slightly, she saw him just as he stretched out across the couch, his legs too long and hanging over the armrest, his t-shirt neatly folded on the small table. He threw one arm over his eyes, the other draped over his stomach.

Rachel turned back to the ceiling, suddenly unable to get the image of him shirtless out of her mind.

"Where did you learn to draw?" He asked, voice throaty with sleep.

"Oh, I'm not sure, really. I started when Jed was little. He was a restless child and liked to explore, but that was dangerous, so I started drawing the forest for him and animals and the places I'd been on scavenging trips for him to see. He loved it. Nailed them all around his little side of the cave."

"You were a mother to him, weren't you? But you couldn't have been much older than him. What, three, four years?"

"Three years," Rachel said.

"You grew up too fast, my darling," He whispered. “I’m sorry.” He shifted slightly to look at her and reached an arm across the small space separating them. Rachel took his hand, her fingertips stroking the inner crease of his palm. He closed his eyes.

"So did you. Grow up too fast, I mean. I don't think we had much of a choice in this world. You were a father to those girls...to Juan and Jose too."

"Do you ever dream of a better world, Rachel?"

"No," Rachel said softly. "I don't dare to dream of things like that."

Hector shifted onto his side. There couldn't have been more than two feet between them, and his hand easily reached her face, fingertips dragging across her cheek. She'd dimmed the lamp before climbing into bed and in its muted light, his eyes looked nearly black and sad.

"Maybe one day we'll live in a world where you can feel safe to dream."

"Maybe," she whispered. "Do you dream of anything?"

"I dream of a quiet life," He mused. His fingers stroked and stroked her face, gently brushing strands of hair behind her ear, thumb dragging across her bottom lip, sending sparks of sensation through her, but also, strangely, lulling her into a peaceful state. "One where I don't have to fight. One where I don't have to kill anyone. If I could build you a better world, Rachel, I would do it in an instant. I would build you a world where we both could dream."

Tears built in Rachel's eyes. Of all the things anyone had ever said to her, none had ever been so selfless, so kind.

One where I don't have to kill anyone...

She couldn't even begin to imagine how much that would cost someone, the toll it would take on your soul. She tried to imagine what that would be like, to take a human life...

“Sleep now," He whispered before she could say anything else. He gave her one last stroke and settled back into his makeshift bed. "Good night, hermosa."

Before she could ask him what that meant, he was already asleep. His breathing had evened out. The arm resting on his stomach had fallen to his side.

Rachel turned off the light and the room was swallowed in shadows.

Jed emerged from the hospital’s double doors. Their personnel only signs rattled against the metal and his mark gleamed black against his forehead.

His once green eyes scanned the crowd of compound survivors. There was old Hal, Mira, Mila, Simone’s mother. And Ruth.

In a split second, Jed dove for a guard’s weapon, ripping it from his hands. With a grey uniform boot, he kicked the guard in the chest and then he swung on the crowd of survivors and opened fire.

Blood exploded against the salmon-colored walls.

Her mother crumbled to the floor, a hand still outstretched toward Rachel, blood escaping from the corner of her lips.

Rachel backed away from Jed, her mouth open in horror.

Jed smiled, all white teeth, a glitter in his eye before he turned the gun on her.

The sound of bullets jarred Rachel.

She screamed.

“It’s okay,” Someone had their palms against her shoulders. Rachel fought against them. Something was tangled around her legs which she tried to kick free from and her heart galloped in her ribcage.

“You’re okay. Rachel, sweetheart...it’s me, Hector.”

Rachel’s blue eyes flung open.

She was in her bed, the dim light of the lamp illuminating one side of Hector’s face. His hands were on her shoulders, one knee resting against her bed as he leaned over her.

Brown, worried eyes swept across her face.

She scrambled to her knees, the horrible images still fresh in her mind, the urge to cry stuck in her throat, and threw her arms around Hector’s neck.

The force knocked him slightly off-balance and he drew her toward him as fell back against the bed, her knees landing on either side of him on the mattress.

Breathing hard, Rachel buried her face against his shoulder.

“It was just a dream,” He reassured. “Rachel...”

“I’m okay,” She whispered, but she was trembling. “It was just--She pulled away, her bottom lip quivering. “I dreamt of Jed. He-he was among the survivors but he was killing them all.”

She pressed the heel of her palms against her eyes.

Gently, Hector took her wrists and removed them from her face.

He looked up at her. His hands went up to cup her face and gently stroked the hollow of her cheekbones.

“It’s over now. You’re safe. I’m here.”

His voice was husky with sleep.

She shivered again, and not just from fear.

It was a mixture of his touch, his words, the nightmare, and the freezing air in the room.

She’d forgotten how cold the bunker’s rooms could get at night.

One of Hector’s hands fell from her face to reach behind her to catch the edge of a blanket Rachel must have kicked off the bed.

The gesture brought him closer to her, her body sliding against his. At that moment, she realized just how close they were. The hard planes of his bare chest were flush against her, one hand supporting the small of her back.

She could feel the rise and fall of his chest and the warmth of his skin.

Heat rose to Rachel’s cheeks, just as he settled the blanket around her shoulders.

Suddenly, the blanket was too hot.

The room was hot.

Her body burned with new and unusual sensations.

Hector’s palms came back to rest, feather-light against her waist. There was a dark look in his eyes, and his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.

“You’re freezing cold,” He whispered and his voice, when he spoke, shook slightly.

“Please,” She whispered, her eyes scanning his face. There was a desperate need inside her to forget the nightmare, to forget the bunker, the poachers, all of it. “Please, Hector, will you kiss me?”

“Oh, Rachel,” He breathed.

But she didn’t have time to be embarrassed by her bold request.

His hand went up and his fingers wrapped around the back of her neck. He pulled her toward him, his lips landing against hers and he kissed her with no hesitation.

His lips were oh so soft and gentle, a contrast to the way he drew her body into his with a force that shocked her.

Rachel crashed against him, and he fell back against the bed. One hand was still on her back, crushing her to him, the other had left her neck to tangle in her red locks.

Her lips parted and he sucked in a breath

As they kissed, all electricity and heat, his hands traced the curves of her body, down along her back, to her waist, forging a burning path until he reached her hips, fingers running, she realized, almost hesitantly, over each swell.

Rachel’s hands braced over his chest and trailed lower, shaking, nails dragging lightly over his smooth muscles.

He groaned, his fingers tightening, digging into the skin of her hips--he was also touching her bare skin-- where her t-shirt had ridden up.

His lips left her mouth, sweeping across her jaw, to kiss the soft skin of her throat, where she was sure he could feel the wild hammering of her heart.

“Rachel...mi rosa linda. My beautiful rose.” His tongue dragged along her throat.

Rachel gasped and pulled away, a flood of sensation coursing through her. She braced herself against him, both hands splayed over the hard muscle of his chest, looking at him with big, wide eyes.

He quickly removed his hands from her body and held them up. "I'm sorry. Was that too much? Do you want me to stop?"

His own eyes were half-lidded and nearly black, but one glance at him and she knew he meant it, knew he'd stop, if she wanted him to. Rachel's heart ached at the gentleness in his eyes. "No," She whispered. "I don't want you to stop."

Rachel leaned over, her lips searching for his again, her hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulder, tickling his face.

When their mouths joined together again, Hector made a low, tortured sound in the back of his throat. He took his time kissing her now, slow, steady, hands dragging down her back, then back up, under her shirt.

She felt like the entire world was on fire then. His fingertips were flames, setting her alight with every new inch of her spine that he discovered.

She came up for air and Hector looked up at her in amazement as his fingers stroked her loose curls.

“I’ve always loved your hair.”

The words sent another shiver down her spine.

She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the distinct swell in the lower half of his body, her own skin like a live wire everywhere they touched.

Even when they’d kissed before, even when he’d held her close out in the hall, she’d never felt this earth-shattering desire.

His hands curled into fists in her hair.

I’ve always loved your hair.

Blood rushed through Rachel’s ears and she gave a small whimper. Hands still in her hair, Hector managed to flip them over, until his body hovered over hers. His chest was slick with sweat now, his hips pinned against hers, an ache she didn't recognize in her body screaming for him and only him.

His mouth was hot against hers. He whispered how beautiful she was, how perfect, in between kisses. She felt his tongue part her lips, sweep inside her mouth, explore, and caress. His hand cupped the back of her knee, and instinctively, she hooked her leg around him.

This only brought him closer into the cradle of her hips. Rachel gasped, and Hector pulled his lips away, and brought them to her forehead instead.

"We should...slow down," He whispered. He was out of breath. So was Rachel.

She trembled in his arms, heart racing. They breathed together, his sweat slicked skin gluing her t-shirt to her body like a second skin.

Hector buried his face against her neck, breath evening out. Fingers uncurling from the back of her knee, hand untangling from her hair.

Rachel relaxed into the mattress, counting his breaths--and jumped when something crashed loudly against the glass of her bedroom door.

Hector leaned back onto his ankles, still straddling Rachel. Rachel propped herself onto her elbows as the knocking intensified and they both looked over at the door.

“Rachel!” Simone hissed loudly. “They’re getting ready to move the survivors. Please, you have to come with me!”

“I, um. I’m coming,” Rachel stammered. “Hold on, I'm getting dressed.” She hoped she didn't sound as breathless as she felt.

She scrambled out of Hector’s arms, smoothing down her hair and glancing around the room.

Her eyes landed back on Hector’s face. He had sat up now and was combing his fingers through his hair.

“She doesn’t...I haven’t really told her about...us.” Rachel whispered.

“Go,” He replied in a steady voice. “Simone needs you right now. I’ll wait a few minutes and follow.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

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