“It was probably in his brain by the time he died,” Jamie concluded, setting both hands on the table. “For your information, Deputy Kirn, Private Roberts was studying with the army to be a nurse before we were called back to service. And if you give either of us any shit, I’ll have you removed from the base.”
“So this is how it is?” Wills spoke up, his big mouth once again notorious for coming in two steps too late. “The sergeant dies and we get reduced to chicken shit?”
“The sergeant’s gone. I’m in charge now. Besides,” Jamie added, “neither of you were above either of us to begin with. You were cops before this. We’re soldiers.”
Wills said nothing. Kirn’s mouth curled to one side in a snarl, but he somehow managed to contain himself, despite the crimson spreading across his face like blood on a tile floor.
In the lapse of silence that followed, Desmond stepped forward with the food and began to arrange it on the table.
“Thank you, Desmond,” Jamie said, clapping the young man’s shoulder. He did not seat himself. Instead, he remained standing, looking upon the eight men before him. He cleared his throat to return everyone’s attention to him. “I’m instating a few other rules and precautions while we’re at it.”
“Here we go,” Kirn groaned.
“To start,” Jamie said, “we need more than just four men guarding the front gates. Our shifts are too long and it isn’t fair when any of us have to sit out in the cold and rain for twelve hours straight. I am appointing Michael, Dustin, Steve, Ian and Dakota as tower guards until further assistance is provided to us.”
“CIVILIAN AUTHORITY?” Kirn roared.
Jamie slammed his fist on the table. “Listen here you motherfucker. I don’t want any more lip from you. If you have a problem with something, please, feel free to speak up, but don’t scream.”
“This is ridiculous,” Wills said. “They’re civilians!”
“Unless you would rather continue your twelve-hour shifts, I’d suggest you keep your mouth shut.”
Dakota grimaced. The hot throb in his chest intensified. Someone’s going to pull a gun if this keeps up.
“Here’s the thing,” Jamie continued, taking a breath before he continued. “Everyone I just assigned to guard duty knows how to shoot a gun. Right, guys?” Every appointed guard nodded. “Erik previously addressed his concerns to the sergeant about one of us getting sick from exposure to the elements. With nine guards in place, we can alternate eight a day, two-and-a-half hours at a time, with a spare taking the place of another to give them the day off. I’m doing this to give us a break, and I’m doing this because I know it’s hard as hell sitting out there all day watching the world crumble all around us.”
No one spoke. Such a harsh statement was likely to create the effect, a ripple of emotion across a room of nine men. Even Desmond, usually reserved to such political notions, frowned, despite the fact that he was in no way involved in the guard duty.
“The other civilians will keep their chores,” Jamie continued, “and their weapons will be returned to them to better protect themselves. Military and law personnel will assist them with the maintenance of the building. Saint David’s will no longer close its doors to those who may need help. We will continue making supply runs on a weekly basis. This is only the beginning. We’re in this for the long haul, guys. We don’t want to start ripping each other apart.”
Steve placed his hands together and clapped. Most everyone else followed suit.
In the back of his head, Dakota couldn’t help but feel nervous about their new situation.
“I don’t like sleeping behind an unlocked door,” Jamie said.
“Who would?” Erik asked, bracing himself as they settled the mattress over the bare bedspring in the sergeant’s old room. “Especially not after what happened tonight.”
“Wait a second,” Dakota said, drawing both men’s eyes toward him. “The doors aren’t locked?”
“They were still renovating this place. I don’t think they ever got around to putting lock-locks on the doors.”
“There’s chains,” Jamie said.
“But they won’t do shit if someone wants to break into your room,” Erik said, gesturing Jamie to lift his side of the mattress.
Dakota turned to look out the windows, then allowed his eyes to travel across the room, toward where an old oak desk and a push-button phone sat in the corner of the room. “What did this used to be?”
“I’m guessing a warden’s office,” Jamie said.
“You know where I am if you need to find me,” Erik said, clapping Jamie’s shoulder. “It’ll be ok, J. You can do this.”
“I know. Thanks, Erik.”
The two exchanged nods before Erik left the room. Sighing, Jamie stooped to gather a tangle of sheets and blankets off the floor, then sorted them over the footrest. Dakota stepped forward and took the opposite end of a sheet when Jamie lifted it from the row. “Sleep with me tonight?” he asked.
Dakota paused in place.
“Not like that,” Jamie continued, pursing his lips when Dakota leaned forward to stretch a sheet corner into place. “I would never ask something like that. I just don’t want to be alone.”
“It’s ok. I’ll sleep in here with you tonight. It’s no big deal.”
“Thank you, Dakota.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Night offered no solace for the restless. Shrouded by clouds and hidden by rain, no moon would shine tonight.
Dakota lay in bed, shivering in the dark. Eyes trained on the window in the hopes that even a sliver of light would pierce through the clouds and offer some form of comfort, he listened to the sound of Jamie’s breathing, surprised that no touch had come any time throughout the night.
I would never ask something like that, Jamie had said.
“He’d never ask,” Dakota muttered.
Especially not on a night like this.
Not once had Jamie moved since they’d lain down over an hour ago. Their backs opposite, their hearts nearly in the same place, Dakota longed to roll over, to press himself against Jamie’s back and wrap his arms around his chest—something, anything to comfort him, but neither his heart nor his mind would allow him to do such a thing, for it was the beast of envy that was said to rest at night, in two lovers’ bed, in one place where, despite everything, all things were supposed to be well, and it would prey on them as though it had all the time in the world, silently waiting but ready to strike.
The bed shifted.
Dakota breathed.
An arm snaked over his back and a hand reached for his fingers. “Are you awake?” Jamie whispered.
“I’m awake,” Dakota said, joining their fingers together.
Neither of them spoke for several long moments. Dakota sighed as Jamie pressed half his chest against his back and moved his head to join him on the second pillow. “Is this all right?”
“Yes.”
“Does this make you uncomfortable?”
“No.”
It makes me feel better.
He didn’t speak his thought. Instead, he allowed his body to loosen under the taller man’s weight and resigned himself to his emotions. Already he felt warmer, though whether or not it was actual physical warmth he couldn’t be sure.
“Jamie?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
Jamie squeezed his hand.