I throw my head skyward and stare, letting my body sway in the lazy back and forth of my horse. Wispy, pale clouds streak through the sky as if someone took a paintbrush to it. A cold breeze whips past, biting my nose and sending the peach and cherry colored leaves overhead fluttering. A few break free and swirl, twisting and spinning as they go. My mind feels like those leaves. Twisting and spinning.
As we ride down the lonely highway, I regard Eli’s back with a frown. A few days ago, he left me with the horses to travel on foot to a camp similar to the one Mikey came from, except larger. When I asked about it, he told me he needed to send a message to a friend in New Haven. Most old-world cities are ghost towns—if they exist at all—but a few live on, changed and transformed. The city where Ivan would be goes by the name New Haven now. I guess it’s large enough that smaller camps like the one Eli visited often have messenger birds going out to it. I remember our conversation after he returned. Maybe conversation is the wrong word. He said a lot—for Eli—all of it unprompted, and I think I said two words in return.
His name is Thomas. You won’t have to worry about him.
He owns an inn called Pheasants Roost.
New Haven is safe. You’ll be safe.
The last one disturbs me the most. Why tell me I’ll be safe unless I have reason to think otherwise? I know I plan to enter a city, probably filled with dangerous men, but having Eli here alleviates my fears. One thing I know more than anything else is this: Eli is a good man and he will always protect me. So why should I be especially concerned about safety? Unless—and my heart sinks at the thought—he plans to leave me.
Whenever we stumble across a raider gang, he grows exceptionally tense, avoiding them at every turn. It seems strange, considering the men on this side of the country seem no more dangerous than the ones he took on easily enough before, but I suppose avoiding raiders is a generally good idea. So I say nothing. But every day, Eli grows more on edge, wearing his mask constantly unless eating or training with me. Something feels off. He seems distracted, more quiet than usual, as if battling an invisible enemy.
With a few days to go until we reach New Haven, we stop to make camp. The next morning after breakfast, Eli turns to me and hesitates, opening his mouth but nothing comes out, his breath caught up in his chest before his lips can form any words.
I frown, curious and alarmed at once.
“I need to go somewhere.” He finally blurts. “To visit someone.”
“Okay,” I say, still confused. “So to a camp, like before?”
“No.”
Alarm overtakes my confusion now. His evident discomfort sends my mind struggling to find its source. The man is rarely anxious and never scared so whatever can worry him this much must be serious. Dangerous. Deadly.
“How long will you be gone?” I ask, my breathing hitching up a notch.
“I…” He stops to think for a moment.
Is he leaving me? Will he not be coming back? Questions scatter all semblance of order to my thoughts. What happened? Did I do something? Say something?
“A couple of hours? I am not sure exactly.”
“Can I come with you?” My strangled voice turns the question into a plea.
Relief washes over his features and he smiles as a shaky breath escapes his chest disguised as a laugh. “Of course.”
Wait, what? He wants me to come with? To visit someone? Who? As we clean camp, the question drives me insane and I manage to make it an entire two minutes on the horses before asking, “Who are we going to go see?”
Again, I notice hesitation, but nothing like before.
His words are soft. “My sister.”
I blink. Oh. Oh.
I let out a long, silent breath, cursing my hyperactive, anxious mind. Maybe Eli’s strange behavior is finally getting to me. I should know better than to think he would leave me. Why travel all this way only to abandon me when we are so close to our destination?
We pass a meadow and I pause to collect a bouquet from the bright yellow and white flowers speckling the mountainside. I may not personally know Eli’s sister, but I know Eli, and flowers on graves are never for the dead, anyway.
We ride until I hear the sound of ocean waves in the distance and Eli cuts onto an overgrown path winding up a mountainside. At the top sits what must be the largest tree in all of New Jersey. I’m pretty sure a car could drive through the trunk without touching either side, but the top is mostly missing, bare, spindly branches stretching into the sky. Charred, black wood reveals the devastation from a lightning strike many years back. Now it is hollow. Dead. But even in death, it stands out from all the rest.
Eli reaches into a pocket and pulls out a pouch holding a small horse figurine made of stone, adding it to the collection of trinkets there at the base of the tree.
“These are all the things she loved.”
A teacup. Cowgirl boots. A writing quill. A snow globe and about a dozen other miscellaneous things. Some are very old and others, less so. But my eyes stick to the newest addition.
“She liked horses?”
“She competed in western style. Every Saturday she’d take me riding; it was the best part of the weekend.”
Explains why he’s such a natural on a horse, it’s in his blood. His sister prepared him for this world without even knowing it. And in more ways than one I suspect.
I set the bouquet alongside the collection of memorabilia, taking a step back beside Eli. We stay like that long enough for the clouds to part and rays of sunlight to sprinkle through parted leaves from the trees around. A family of woodpeckers peers at us curiously from a hole up above. The silence between us wraps around and around like a warm blanket on a cold winter night.
“This is where we spread her ashes,” he says quietly, staring at the base of the tree. “You’re the first to see it, ever since…”
Since he woke from the stone. I turn to stare at him. The significance here is more than I know; I can see it in his face. In his voice. In the slight catch of his breath. This place is sacred. These memories—holy.
“Eli tells me you were the best big sister in the world,” I say to the memorial, giving it an easy smile. “Being a big sister myself, I think I understand. It’s a special kind of relationship between siblings. You love them more than the world and if anyone hurts them you make sure they regret it.” I pause as I realize my own words a moment too late. “I’m sorry you couldn’t protect Eli, but even still…” My gaze finds Eli, who watches me in turn. “He saved me not once, not twice, but three times. I owe him my life. You must have been a pretty spectacular person to have helped make him who he is today.”
Eli’s eyes never leave mine and that look from before appears again. The one which sets my heart skipping a beat and my thoughts scattering like loose pages on a windy day. Desire swells up in me, expanding like a balloon, filling the space in my chest until I can hardly breathe.
Something plops at my feet and the space in my chest comes rushing back. I suck in a breath, glancing down. Little Wolf lays on my feet, looking perfectly comfortable, as if my boots were some luxury recliner. Every week, he grows bigger and I catch myself wondering if he’ll ever stop. Already the pup reaches past my waist and can take down a deer almost as easily as Eli. But right now all I see is a needy pile of fur. I take a seat among the leaf litter and Little Wolf climbs into my lap, despite being much too large. Shaking my head, I wrap my arms around the giant baby as he rests his chin on my shoulder.
Eli reaches inside the curling opening of a hollow, pulling out a silver container about the size of a lunchbox. He sits down, fingers resting lightly on it.
“What’s that?” I ask, trying to situate Little Wolf into a position letting me see better.
“When we discovered the cancer, they gave her six months. So she prepared. Told us when the time came, she wanted us to bury this time capsule at the base of this tree.”
He cracks it open, slowly, as if it were his most cherished possession. It probably is. The thought sobers my movements and Little Wolf goes still as if sensing the shift in mood. Inside are many letters. Letters with dates, descriptions, things like eighteenth birthday and graduation, and a dozen others. Eli swallows hard as he lifts a new letter from among the opened ones, its seal yet unbroken. He stares at it for a long moment before looking up at me in an unspoken request.
Oh. My eyes widen. “I’ll be over there if you need me.”
Little Wolf follows on my heels as I make my way to the sound of ocean waves, leaving Eli to his sister’s letters. The cliffside dips into deep blue waters and waves crash against the rocks below, spraying saltwater into the air before raining down in a mist. A cove a little ways off draws my attention, the warm, pale sandy shore enticing me. I glance behind. Eli will probably be a while.
I make my way to the cove and Little Wolf paves the way, much to the dismay of chipmunks living within vines along the cliffside. I swerve around a spray of sand as he tries digging one up. At the base of the cliff, a small shoreline enveloped by sheer rock face creates a crescent shape. To my left, at the base of the crescent, yawns the mouth of an enormous cave. I take a handful of sand and let it sift through my fingers as the ocean breeze snatches it, sending the grains scattering. With a deep breath, I close my eyes, turning my face to the blue skies overhead.
Salty air fills my lungs.
Waves crash.
Sun warms my skin.
Paradise. Perhaps this is it. Even if it only exists as a moment in time. I rip my boots off and dive my toes into the warm beach, heading for the shoreline. Cold water contrasts the heated sand and foamy waves tickle my ankles. I walk for a while when Little Wolf races past, splashing water up my side, and a grin catches my mouth.
“Little Wolf!” I say in exasperation, partly soaked.
He stops biting the waves to lock eyes with me. A devious twinkle crosses those discolored eyes and dread fills my heart.
“No,” I say with as much severity as I can muster but the wicked creature is already racing back to me.
I stagger back, turning as he whips past, sending water soaking the clothes at my back. An incredibly undignified shriek escapes my lips at the sudden, invasive cold.
“You little devil.”
Little Wolf’s tail wags like I’d given him high praise but something catches his eye and he stares before letting out a howl. Eli stands at the top of the cliffside, watching the two of us. I give him a big wave and he starts down toward the cove. We meet halfway and he raises a curious eyebrow, reaching out to touch a few sopping wet locks of hair that escaped my baseball cap.
Heat flushes my face and I clear my throat, rolling my eyes. “I should have named him Little Devil, not Little Wolf. He certainly earns the name often enough.”
“Are you cold?”
I shake my head. “Actually”—I tilt my chin with a nod at the ocean—“I was thinking it’s perfect weather for a swim.”
The surprise on his face brings a smile to mine and I take his arm, marching us back to the beach, but before I can shed any clothes he touches my shoulder.
“Wait.” He checks the surroundings, gaze skimming along the top of the rock face and over the cliffs before meeting mine. “Come with me, I want to show you something.”
He steps toward the cave and as we enter its mouth, I gawk at the endless ceiling above. Cracks and twisting holes stream beams of light down, lighting our path ahead with nature’s skylights. Little Wolf chases crabs as they scurry along porous walls and over pale barnacles, seeking refuge in several small tidepools scattered about. Eli stops before a pool at least half the size of a football field. The ceiling opens wide to shine warm sunlight from the center, revealing sparkling waters going deep. Connecting shallow pools house all kinds of creatures. Starfish, squishy anemones, and little scuttling hermit crabs the size of my thumb.
Eli drops his jacket on a rock and reaches behind, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and sliding it up over his head in one smooth motion, revealing more skin than I’ve seen in months. He glances my way and I yank my eyes up to meet his, offering what I hope looks like an innocent smile.
“Do you still want to swim?” he asks.
“Mhm.”
He watches me oddly for a moment before continuing to remove his pants, leaving only boxers. Truly, I never thought this plan through. I can feel the heat radiating from my cheeks as if my blood turned to lava and every drop relocated to my face. I might very well turn this pool into a hot spring.
“There’s a tunnel on the far end of the pool. I think you’ll like it; it’s not a long swim.”
I nod and pivot in place to save whatever semblance of dignity remains and slowly shed my outer garments, tossing my baseball cap, jacket, long sleeves, and pants aside. With only an undershirt and my underwear, I follow him to the side of the pool where he leaps in without a second thought. Little Wolf whines as Eli stays under for several moments and the crystal water gives me a rippling vision of the man swimming beneath the water’s surface to the far side.
I steel myself against the impending cold and jump in. The temperature difference feels like an electric shock through my body and my muscles contract, but the next moment they come to life and I break the surface with a gasp. Kicking frantically for a moment as my lungs learn to breathe again, I make my way over to Eli.
“The entrance is under the water, are you ready?” he asks.
The cold makes me nod a little too enthusiastically. “Ready.”
He takes a deep breath and sinks below. I fill my lungs and follow suit. Eight feet down and he disappears into an opening in the rock wall leading down a dark tunnel. I hesitate. If I get lost and die in some underwater rock cavern, I’m going to kill Eli.
I push forward into dim waters, chasing after Eli’s fading form. The water grows darker and the edges of the tunnel dissolve into shadow. My lungs begin to ache and panic reaches for my brain as I realize I’ve gone too far to turn back. But then Eli’s form works its way up and I kick hard, fighting invisible arms squeezing my empty lungs tight.
We breach the surface and I let out an undignified gasp. Despite the darkness, I can still make out Eli’s form and fury bristles inside me. I give him a hardy shove. “Not a long swim?”
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
I catch a flash of white teeth—a grin—and resist shoving him a second time. What a devious brat. The man is no better than the wolf. As if on cue I hear a howl come from somewhere behind.
Blinking salt water from my eyes I notice tiny spots of color dance across the space. It’s small, about the size of a walk-in closet. And the air—it’s strangely warm. I swivel my head to see several beams of light coming from high above focused into points. Cut crystals hang from the ceiling in the middle of the beams, their prisms catching the light and splashing pecks of rainbow color across the wall, ceiling, and floor.
“How…”
“Parabolic mirrors.” Eli answers. “They use natural light outside and condense it into a focused point. Someone set them up years ago.”
“It’s beautiful.”
I stare for a while as my sight adjusts. Eli climbs out of the small pool and offers me a hand. The warm air feels nice after such frigid water, but suddenly, I’m not thinking about the water or the air. I’m thinking about how close Eli is. With his back to the wall and my heels at the pool’s edge, the space between us is paper thin. All I can see are the portions of his face cast in streaks of rainbow light and for a while, no one moves.
We are alone.
We are always alone, but here, now, in this place we are close.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?” I ask.
After a moment he clears his throat. “There’s more.”
He touches my shoulder to keep me steady as he inches around, feeling along the wall until he finds something. His touch trails down to my hand and he leads me through a narrow, winding opening in the dark, entering a very well-lit cavern. This one is larger, about the size of a bedroom.
Above, rather than crystals, are several mirrors. Beams of condensed light shine down, bouncing from one mirror to another flooding the room with light. On the far end, I find myself drawn to a place where a few beams shine down in a soft spotlight of sorts.
There, the jagged rocky ocean wall softens, and forms emerge. Three faces look to be carved from the rock wall. Like statues. I frown.
“Are they carved? They’re not…people?”
“No, not people. Someone made them.”
I reach out and touch the stone. They are expertly done; you would never know they weren’t actually people, except the ocean rock is made of something different from a statue’s stone and they are only partially completed, ending around the shoulders. My fingers trace the nose of an older-looking woman, maybe in her late forties. Beside her is a young woman, maybe a couple of years younger than me, and finally, a little boy.
So odd. After what happened to everyone, someone still felt compelled to carve humans from stone.
“I wonder why.”
“To remember, I think. It was abandoned by the time I found it.”
How did he find it? Does he go cave diving for fun? The entrance to this place is not one you simply stumble upon. Obviously, the person who made these did not plan to share them with the world.
“How did you find it?”
Eli takes a seat close by. “I knew the person who made them.”
I join him, intrigued.
“I don’t even know his name. But I know their names.” He stares at the faces in the rock. “He told me about his family. A wife, daughter, and son.”
“So the carvings are of his family.”
He nods. “I found him dying in the woods. Back then, I would just put a man like that out of his misery. But I didn’t.” His words turn soft, thoughtful. “I wanted to see if I could save someone.”
“Did you?”
He shakes his head. “He died after a week from his wounds, but not before he told me about his life and his family.”
“And this place,” I finished for him.
“In the end, it led me back to my sister. Being in this place helped give me the courage I needed to read her letters.”
It’s strange how the past seems to be all anyone has anymore. There is no future for the living, only a past. Maybe that’s what makes this world so dangerous. People with nothing to lose. No family and no legacy.
Men are not supposed to be alone, Natasha. It’s never been more evident than it is now.
I blink at the intrusive memory. My uncle’s journal hasn’t come to mind in months. I look over at Eli. He said the world changed him, but something else did too. His past changed him. His sister’s letters changed him.
“What did he tell you about them?” I glance back at the stone carvings.
“He and his wife were both missionary doctors. Apparently, his daughter, Hannah was studying to go to space. She just got accepted into NASA when the world ended. And his son was a piano prodigy.”
“Quite the family.”
Eli frowns, looking thoughtful. “He came from across the Atlantic.”
“On a ship?”
He nods slowly. “He and those he traveled with were desperate. They were running from someone.”
“Who?”
“A monster,” Eli murmurs the word as if lost somewhere far away. “He called him the Emperor Dragon.”
I can only imagine traveling the entire Atlantic just to escape a single man. He must be powerful.
“You know…” I toss Eli a grin. “Most guys would take a girl somewhere romantic. Not some murky underwater cave, telling her stories of a dead man.”
He grins at the ground and I love the look of it. But then his eyes lift to mine and they stick, piercing deep. “Would you like that? To be taken somewhere romantic?”
Yes.
But I stay quiet. If the man took it to heart to be romantic I wouldn’t stand a chance. Already I struggle to keep my head on straight and remember the reason I’m here. Ivan.
I raise a mocking brow. “Why, my dearest Sensei, aren’t you being quite bold for a man who wears another woman’s ring around his neck?”
His cheeks turn scarlet and he ducks his head, glancing away. I resist a chuckle. I reserve the title for special moments such as these and then savor his reaction. After a while, he reaches up and the ring disappears inside his fist. It’s the same one I saw months ago by the swimming hole before we got into that ridiculous fight. He never takes it off as far as I can tell.
“This ring was my sister’s. And my mother’s and then my grandmother’s before her.”
He holds it up and the diamond in the middle sparkles. “My sister put it in with the letters before she died. If she had lived, she would have gotten married and had kids, and it would have gone to her daughter if she had one. Instead, she left it to me.”
Every genealogy in this world—all of humanity—cut short in a single generation. But over hundreds of years. It cannot be a quick death; no, that would be too merciful. Instead, it is slow.
“Are kids something you want?” I ask, suddenly curious.
Eli’s fingers pause and then he drops the ring. “I never thought about it. Never needed to.”
I suppose it makes sense. Why waste time contemplating the impossible?
“What about you?” he asks.
The question catches me off guard. I don’t know why. After all, I did ask him the very same thing just two seconds ago. And as for me, well, the choice is actually there.
“I remember having friends tell me they couldn’t imagine raising kids in such a cruel world.” I laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “We didn’t know cruelty.”
Eli’s eyes are on me. Silent and watchful.
“Then again, maybe life was a different kind of cruel. They say suicide hit an all-time high right before the end.”
“People are happiest when they overcome fear, and most miserable when they don’t even try,” Eli comments quietly.
“You think they were scared?” The thought seems bizarre as I think back to civilized society. Back to times of cozy couches, endless entertainment, and restaurants around every corner. “Scared of what?”
“The same thing every person fears: pain. Safety doesn’t remove pain. It doesn’t erase fear, if anything, it enables it.”
Eli’s mind ties the most curious things together but maybe he’s onto something. Complacency is a disease few catch nowadays with death lurking around every corner. The claws of fear which once bore into humanity’s head, whispering into its ear, now dangle to its leg. In this world you either die or learn to trudge through life, shaking fear off when necessary.
But never have I been more terrified than the time I thought Ivan might be dead. That fear pushed Eli away and persuaded me to do stupid things. Things I regret. But I realized something today. The past can ruin you or save you. Some men forget their past and in the process, lose their humanity. Other’s, like Jol, can’t accept the present and live in faded memory. But then, there’s Eli. He remembers his past and rather than push it away, or lose himself in it, he sits with it. Sits patiently with the pain, and in doing so, it makes him a better man.
That’s why the thought of losing Ivan doesn’t scare me anymore. Don’t get me wrong, it would destroy me, but it wouldn’t be the end. I have Eli now and with him by my side I could sit with that pain. I could sit, remember, and move on.
“Family has always meant the world to me.” I look back over the stone figures. “Maybe it’s because I’ve lost so much of it that I’m scared to lose any more. But I think I’m beginning to see how family doesn’t just shrink. It can grow, too.”
The ring in Eli’s hand catches the light and sparkles. For a moment, my mind drifts and everything feels distant. “I want kids. I want a family of my own.”
The words come out soft and I blink, realizing what I just said. Or rather, I realize who I just said it to and my cheeks burn. His eyes are on me again and I clear my throat, standing up and walking back to examine the carved faces, putting space between us. When I glance over, the ring has disappeared inside a fist and Eli stares intently at the cave floor.
~~~
After a while, we return to the beach, much to Little Wolf’s relief. The furry creature whines, circling us, tail wagging until his entire body sways with excitement. I almost feel bad for leaving him. Almost. Five minutes later, and he’s forgotten the whole ordeal.
I get dressed and nap on the beach, relaxing in the sun as Eli scouts the area with Little Wolf hot on his heels. He returns with lunch—grilled boar—and a blanket for us to lay on. A regular picnic. I want to laugh. If you told me six months ago I would be having a picnic on the beach with a man who took me for a mostly naked swim, I would have tried to shoot you with my pistol.
“You know…” I wipe my fingers on my pants after our meal and snatch his goggles, putting them on. “I think I look pretty good in these.”
He looks over at my antics and I grin. I reach for the scarf next.
“Think I could pull it off? The Masked Man. Deadly. Dangerous. And dripping in intrigue.” I give a dramatic pose. “No one would ever suspect that he is actually”—I clap my hands on either side of my face in mock surprise— “a she!”
He raises a dubious brow. “Dripping in intrigue?” He reaches over and tightens the straps of the goggles so they stay up without slipping.
His closeness catches my breath and it takes me a moment to register his words. I bite my lip, grateful for the scarf over my cheeks.
“Yes, dripping. Questions surround him everywhere he goes.” I lean forward. “Where did he come from? Why the mask? And why does he only communicate via dead pheasant?”
He cracks a smile. “Would you prefer I use boar?”
“Oh most definitely. Much tastier.”
He chuckles and leans back in the sand, cradling his head in his hands. I slip the goggles and scarf off, setting them between us before falling back on the blanket, staring at the blue sky.
“You know, I nearly had a heart attack earlier,” I say.
His brows scrunch and his eyes find mine in a question.
“You seemed so nervous when you told me about coming here.” I laugh a little. “Some ridiculous part of me thought maybe you were leaving me. Crazy, right?”
My half-hearted chuckle dies in my chest as his eyes dart away and he says nothing. I feel the life drain out of me like someone slit my throat right then and there. I sit up, the blue sky suddenly feels gray and suffocating.
I’m right. He plans to leave.
But why? Is it because of me? When did he plan on telling me?
The last question perches on the tip of my tongue and I barely catch it in time, sucking it back behind pressed lips and grinding it to dust. He obviously doesn’t want to share. But anger bubbles up like boiling oil, snapping at everything within reach and I cannot keep its spray inside.
“Did I do something to upset you?” I struggle to keep the edge from my words.
“No.” His lips flatten into a thin line, brows drooping and I see it then. Misery. “It’s not you.”
Then what? Why is he leaving? My mind races back to this thing between us. His fear. I feel it again. Here. Now. In this place. It’s been there since the moment he learned my brother’s name but I hoped it would just disappear with time. Or better yet, he would come to trust me enough to share but instead he chooses to leave. I rub the heel of my hand against my chest to ease the sudden ache of pain as my traitorous tear ducts prickle to life.
Why do I care so much? People come and go in life. Classmates. Coworkers. Even family. So why does the thought of him leaving feel like someone sinking a knife into my gut and twisting it around and around. As if a hole suddenly appeared in my heart where none existed before and now I am left alone to fill it back in. Only the hole is not a hole at all, but a canyon, and it stretches far and wide.
“Are we—” I stop as I feel my voice begin to crack and take a soft, slow breath. “Are we friends, Eli?”
I turn to him and my resolve to stay strong crumbles as a choking ball of emotion closes off my airway. My despicable tear ducts flood the world in blurry swirls and between the coils, Eli’s expression falls as if I stabbed him in the chest.
“Of course.” He reaches over and pulls me close, arms wrapping around tight. “Of course we’re friends.”
I want to shove him away, but my body doesn’t work. Instead, all I can do is sit trembling in his arms, fighting the awful torment stretching parts of my soul thin like taffy. Every passing moment, it steals a little more until I feel empty. Desolate.
“In the beginning, why did you let me come along with you?” he asks quietly.
I think back to all those months ago. “I was desperate. And you were a creep.” I bite the words out and he chuckles lightly. “But I believed you. That you would leave if I asked you to. Plus…” I pull away, giving him a grim look. “It helped that you gave me a loaded gun.”
A lopsided grin graces his stupid face. “For a while there it felt like you might actually use it.”
“For a while there, I was tempted.”
His grin fades into a mere smile and he takes my hand in his like he did before all those nights ago on the log when I told him not to apologize about Jol.
“Do you know why I came with you?” he asks.
I frown, searching for the memory. Something about the darkness of this world changing you? I shake my head.
“If this world doesn’t break you completely, it molds you into something like itself. Either way, you will never be the same. I came with you because I wanted to be your shield, something to stand between you and this world so you have a choice of who you want to be.”
A shield. A choice. Something he desperately needed as a child and never had. Something I hope to be for Ivan.
“That’s why I came but that’s not why I stayed. I stayed because of you. You are spectacular. Brave. Fearless. A force to be reckoned with. Playful. Smart. Compassionate.” His eyes catch mine and hold them. “Beautiful.”
His eyes slip past my anger, grabbing hold of something deeper. Warmth and life surge forward, but pain gets dredged up alongside it.
“I cannot come with you all the way, but I can get you where you need to go,” he says quietly.
I rip my hands away from his. How can he say those wonderful things and then just leave? Tears slip down my cheeks and I turn away, pulling my legs up to my chest, hugging them as if that might hold together the remaining strands of my thinning soul.
He tries to touch my shoulder, but I yank my body away, turning to glare. “You once told me that running from your fears is the root of all kinds of misery. For yourself and for others.” My glare turns pointed. “So, what’s your excuse for running now?”
You would think I tore a hole in the very fabric of the universe with the deathly silence following Eli’s frozen gaze. It stretches through time and space. Unblinking. His chest barely moves until he finally speaks.
“I’ve done things which cannot be forgiven. Things that shouldn’t be forgiven. Because of this, there are places I cannot go. Believe me when I say, if I could, I would stay by your side.”
It hits me like a backhand. He’s not leaving me. I’m leaving him. The strange behavior finally makes sense. How he wears his mask constantly, the overly cautious behavior around raiders, and those statements about New Haven being safe. Whatever his terrible history is, it’s here. He says he can get me where I need to go, but cannot come with me. He’s not coming to New Haven.
“So…” I grip my knees too tightly. “You would stay with me if I remained here.”
He stiffens. “You won’t. You have your brother.”
You’re right, Eli.
Ivan comes first. My anger trickles away like drops of water down glass. I remember the time on the log, his feathery light touch across my skin. His words to me when we found Little Wolf. A gaze filled with yearning, stretching into my chest and snagging my heart on its line. He tested the waters several times and every time my answer was clear. Ivan first. My priorities haven’t changed.
“And afterward? After I find Ivan, what then?”
He is quiet, staring out over the ocean.
I press on. “Where will you be then?”
“Where do you want me to be?”
With me.
“I want you to meet Ivan,” I say quietly.
He says nothing. The oceans roar fills the space between us. Seagulls caw overhead as the sun lowers closer to the horizon casting shades of orange and pink across the sky. I move closer, leaning into his side.
“I’m cold,” I say softly.
His arm wraps around my shoulders and I find his free hand and hold it tight. After a minute, his hand returns the squeeze.