I feel uneasy. I don’t want to drink, but know how pushy Wreck can be. I envision Gabriel placing a glass of wine in front of me and forcing me to drink. The skin on my neck begins tingling, and for a moment I feel his fingers wrap around my throat.
“You all right?” Wreck asks, noticing that something is off.
I take a deep breath, shaking off my stupor, and say, “I have an intolerance for alcohol.”
“Really?” He seems curious. “I’ve never heard that one before. Can you describe the symptoms?” After I tell him, he says, “Good to know. Well, I guess I’m just the opposite. I can outdrink everybody in the village.”
He smiles, snatches the flask from my hand and takes a long pull. It doesn’t seem to have a noticeable effect on him, but I still become a little tense. He’s already aggressive enough when sober. I really don’t want to have to deal with him when he’s drunk.
“Are you tired?” he asks after we finish our meal. “I think we’d better get some sleep before morning. It’s been a really long day.”
He gives me a pillow and blanket. I frown, looking up at him.
“What?” he says.
“Do I have to sleep here?”
“Well, you could try to sleep outside but it might rain,” he grins. “The villagers will help you find your own place after you become a ranger. But for now, I guess you’re just staying here. Why such a look? What’s wrong?”
I feel unsafe. I spent two days in the woods alone with him, but the closed space of this shack gives me a sensation of being cornered. I don’t know how to explain all that.
“It’s nothing,” I say.
He turns off the lamp and the shack becomes dark. I sit unmoving in the middle of the room, holding the blanket and pillow. Wreck plops on his back along the opposite wall. I can’t stop worrying. Why does he want to keep me so close? What is he hiding behind all his friendliness? He must have some reason behind the change in his attitude. I just know it. If he only wanted to help, he’d just let Tanya and I escape. Instead, he’s doing everything he can to force me to stay in this village.
“Is it true what Ace said?” I ask again. “That you just want to… get laid?”
I don’t know how I managed to find enough courage to articulate all that. I suppose it’s just easier to speak when it’s dark and he can’t see my face.
Wreck doesn’t answer. I squeeze the pillow tightly in my arms. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he denying the accusation? His silence is excruciating.
“Is that really why you’re keeping me here?” I ask, my voice quivering.
“What I want is none of your damn concern,” he answers harshly. “I’m not stupid, all right? I get that you’re not interested in me. It’s no big deal. We’re still good friends, right?”
It’s my turn to be the quiet one.
“Kora,” he says slowly. “Are you my friend? I don’t have to worry about you cutting my throat in my sleep, right?”
I take a moment to think.
“I’m your friend,” I lie, although part of me truly wishes it was true.
“Good enough,” he replies. “Goodnight then. And if Gabriel visits you in your dreams, be sure and kill him again.”
He rolls over onto his side, turning his back to me. I settle down along the opposite wall and close my eyes, keeping two knives under my pillow.
***
A sharp pain awakens me. I sit up, whimpering and touching the scratches across my arm. They didn’t seem too deep, but the wound now hurts badly. It’s still dark outside and my head feels unclear, as if I’m sick… as if something is wrong with me. My jaw aches from grinding my teeth and my body is sore after fleeing from the chimera.
I wrap myself in a blanket, shivering though it’s warm inside the shack. My thoughts aren’t helping. I see Amy walking along the beach, a bright smile spread across her beautiful face. I think of my mother and I living in Central Settlement in the future. A time when I’d be able to buy dresses and shoes for her. There is a place somewhere far away where they’re both happy and still alive.
I bite down on my hand as my eyes wet with tears. It’s all I can do to keep myself from screaming. I remember the knives under my pillow so an image of slit wrists crosses my mind. I know I wouldn’t really do anything like that, but let the thought linger for a while.
Wreck is still sleeping across the room, so I crawl toward him on hands and knees. I don’t care who he is or what he has on his mind. He’s another human being and that’s all that matters for the moment.
“Kris,” I touch his shoulder. I don’t know why I use his real name. It just seems more personal.
He grabs my wrist roughly, sitting up, his eyes unfocused and glazed over. And for a split second it seems like he’s about to punch me.
“Kora?” he says, a normal expression returning to his face. “What’s wrong?”
He releases my wrist, looking me over.
“I’m sorry to wake you,” I sob, choking. “I just… don’t feel good.”
“I wasn’t really sleeping anyway,” he lies. “What can I do to help?”
I don’t answer. What can anyone do after you’ve lost everything you ever had? How can you describe what it’s like to lose your mother? I don’t even know why I bothered him. I think I just needed to hear somebody’s voice to make myself come back to reality.
“Here, drink some water.” He hands
