“With Death Dealers, you can only kill them with head wounds or by removing the heart. Other wounds will heal.”
“Like my leg wound did. You knew I didn’t need the bandage that day after you put me in the coffin. You still wrapped my leg to make me feel better.”
“The human mind needs a lot of reassurance.”
Odessa studies me with her pale eyes, and I am already thinking of her on top of me in the bedroom. When she smiles again, I imagine her lips wrapped around my cock. All we do now is rut in bed. I can’t shake the need, and Odessa meets my hunger with her own insatiable desire.
“I’m almost done cleaning the second wall,” Odessa says, swinging around to chop the tree. “I’ll probably run out of cleaning supplies before I finish the room.”
“I don’t know if I can find more.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s busy work to keep my mind from going Lost Highway bonkers.”
My mind isn’t as sharp as before I made the mistake of saving Odessa. If I could return to that day, I would leave her in the trap for the other Death Dealers. More than once, I’ve wondered if ending her life might free me from this weakness.
The problem is the longer I think of Odessa, the more my body aches for her. Once my cock is hard, we end up in bed until I can barely move.
“When will you take me hunting?” she asks as I lead her into the house.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I think the secret to staying sane here is to keep busy. Boredom turns the mind to mush.”
My hand removes the machete from her grip while I hurry her down the hallway. “We’ll hunt in the morning.”
Odessa smiles at where we’re heading. She finds nothing wrong with spending hours fucking like animals. No doubt she thinks sex helps her mind remain sharp. Of course, she isn’t the one chained to the bed.
Her voice is tender when we’re in the bedroom. She tells me how strong I am. She wants me to own her. She promises I’m the only one she sees.
I know these words are supposed to mean something. In bed, they do matter. Once we’re dressed, my mind no longer remembers why I should care.
Admittedly, I sometimes like the way her fingers feel on my arm when we sit on the porch and watch the woods. I’m not as quick to swat them away as when she first arrived. Occasionally, I struggle against the urge to reach out and touch her too.
Odessa’s face is delicate when she sleeps. Watching her rest on the couch, I count her breaths and admire how her lips part as she dreams.
Until Odessa arrived, I rarely slept and only dreamed of monsters in the woods. Now when I sleep, I see her naked and waiting for me in bed. In my dreams, I can touch her without our passion immediately leading to violence. Sometimes in the better dreams, I explore her body as she does mine.
“Did you like music before you came here?” she asks that night while we sit on the couch and stare at the TV’s static.
“No.”
“Did you like anything?”
“I liked succeeding at my missions.”
“You’re doing that robot thing again.”
I frown at Odessa, only to find her grinning back at me. “You’re mocking me.”
“No, I’m just playing with you. I want you to stay sane for a long time.”
“What happens if I go feral? Will you put me down?”
“No, I’ll let you kill me.”
Frowning darker, I look at where her hand now holds mine. “Are you so weak you won’t even attempt to save yourself?”
“No, I’m so weak I won’t want to live alone here without you. I love you, Quill. Without you, I have no reason to exist.”
“Pathetic.”
“You would fall apart without me too.”
I open my mouth to tell her how wrong she is, but Odessa’s fingers sliding over my knuckles distract me.
“This place doesn’t have to be hell,” she whispers with her gaze on the TV. “It can be whatever we choose.”
“Tell that to the people we find in my traps tomorrow.”
“If we died right off, yes, we wouldn’t have a choice. But we didn’t die, and we have each other and this cabin. We have Skittles and music and a TV that sometimes works. We have your killing skills and my ability to say encouraging things while you use your killing skills. I’d say we’re pretty lucky.”
Odessa’s tenderness tempts and terrifies me. Her gaze finds mine, and I see intense clarity in her green eyes.
“Tomorrow, you can prove how much you like it here. This cabin remains mine because I kill to keep it. Now you’ll need to do the same.”
Smiling at me, she rests her head against my chest. I think to push her away. Outside the cabin, wolves and night-dwelling Death Dealers lurk. They want to destroy us.
Everything in the Lost Highway wants to end our lives, and Odessa’s touch feels like a lie in such a world.
I don’t push her away, though, because I’m afraid. My biggest fear has always been bowing to fear, and now I’m constantly anxious. I fear Odessa will die. I’m afraid what will happen to me if I allow her to live. I fear what lingers in the darkness outside the cabin, and I’m afraid of what awaits us when the darkness fades.
I hated when Odessa called me a robot. I wanted to prove myself human in the way she claimed I wasn’t.
Now I drown in my humanity with only an unreliable Odessa as my life preserver.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Quill
Odessa holds the machete in front of her as we walk through the woods. She’s more comfortable with the feel of the weapon in her hand. Whenever I glance back at her, Odessa is scanning our surroundings rather than watching me. I approve of her new alert nature, even if I rue my decision to bring her to the cabin.
I miss the way I once lived. No fear or regret. No longing for what I shouldn’t need. Is it possible to return to such thinking after I’ve tasted what desire provides?
Behind me, Odessa looks tiny in her oversized coat. I’m instantly struck with the urge to protect her. Her dependency on me provides a new sense of pride. I roll my eyes, thinking of how absurd I’ve become.
A short walk from the cabin, we find a Death Dealer in a trap. Too far gone to speak coherently, he moans and gurgles upon noticing us. Struggling against the stake through his chest, he reaches for Odessa. I instinctively smack away his hand.
“The more feral they become,” she says, stepping back, “the more likely they are to be undressed.”
Her words mean nothing to me. I don’t care about these Death Dealers. They’re no more than diseased animals in my traps.
“The woman that prowls around our cabin has no shoes,” Odessa says, only pausing when the man again reaches for her.
“Kill him.”
Odessa hesitates for a moment before lowering the machete on his head. The blade doesn’t slide in easily, and she looks startled to know human flesh isn’t the texture of soft cheese. Attempting again, she puts more strength into the strike. This time, the blade rips through his flesh and cracks his skull. The man still flops around.
When an uncertain Odessa looks to me, I gesture toward the man. “Finish him.”
After her fourth try, the man falls silent. I take my blade and lop off his head before shoving it in my duffle bag. Odessa watches me, looking ready to puke.
“It’s our currency,” I remind her.
Odessa says nothing, but I wait for her to reassure me. Am I the bad guy for doing what needs to be done?
“What?” she asks when I stand over her.
“We need their heads to buy things at the outpost.”
“I know. It’s still gross.”
Frowning, I can’t tell if she’s judging me. I wish I didn’t care either way.
“Don’t sulk, Quill. Let’s check more traps.”
Her expression soothes my irritation. I want her to admire me. Human nature is a ridiculous game for affection and approval.
Walking through the woods, I noti
ce the sound switching on and off. One moment, I can hear Odessa’s footsteps behind me. The next, everything goes silent.
The next trap killed the Death Dealer with a head wound. I add the skull to my bag and continue walking. Odessa is humming when the sound returns. She stops immediately and glances around to see if anyone might have heard.
I’m ready to return to the cabin and put her mouth to better use when I notice movement up ahead. Another man is stuck in a trap. Dressed all in black, he stops struggling when he catches sight of us. Our gazes meet, and I realize he’s more coherent than the average trapped Death Dealer.
“Careful,” I whisper to Odessa.
I am nearly on top of the man when he springs to his feet and slices my stomach with a blade. Behind me, Odessa gasps and moves toward him. I shove her backward, and she topples to the ground.
“Stay back,” I warn as the man lunges again.
I sidestep this strike and kick his feet out from under him. The Death Dealer still manages to stab me in the thigh.
“Penny for your thoughts,” he taunts, rolling away and back to his feet. “No, don’t tell me. I’ll get a good look at them when I crack open your head and dig around.”
This Death Dealer is new to the Lost Highway and possesses smooth, lethal movements. Before arriving in our prison, he killed often and easily. Now his killer instinct is focused on us.
When I throw a punch, his blade nicks my wrist. The man swings for me, and I struggle to dodge him. We fall to the ground where he attempts to pin me. I remove a blade from my side holster and shove it into the man near the armpit. I hope to hit his heart and slow him down.
Coughing blood in my face, he headbutts me twice before reaching for the blade in his side. I spot movement to my right, and the man grunts from Odessa’s machete strike at the back of his skull. Spinning around, he releases me and charges her. She begins to run before abruptly stopping. I’m on his back before he reaches the now very still Odessa.
I wrap my arm around his throat and squeeze until the bone snaps. Even injured, he shoves me back into a tree with enough power to temporarily stun me. The Death Dealer knows he’s in danger. Different from the zombie-like ones, he remains savvy enough to fight another day.
Running away, he hurries toward the highway. I look at Odessa, who stands near a tree. She glances around warily, knowing my traps are everywhere.
“Stay here!” I yell, pointing at her. “I need to finish him.”
“Quill, stay with me.”
“He’ll come back and attack when we’re not ready. I have to finish him now. Stay here and wait for me.”
Forced to leave Odessa, I chase after the Death Dealer. My mind already pictures him claiming everything I possess including my woman. After all, I’d do the same if our roles were reversed.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Odessa
Quill left me.
For the longest time, I watch the spot in the woods where he chased after the Death Dealer. The wind blows roughly against me, throwing leaves in my face. I finally peel away my gaze from Quill’s direction and scan the area.
Though we didn’t leave the cabin so long ago, I sense the day is nearly over. How long have I been waiting for Quill to return? Darkness lingers near the ground, spreading slowly upward as if taunting me.
I study the ground for signs of a trap. Quill hides them too well, and I don’t know how to reach the cabin even if I avoid every danger. I’m stuck in this spot with the growing darkness nipping at my feet. Soon, I’ll need to climb the tree to avoid turning into the wolves’ evening snack.
I hesitate climbing, still hoping Quill will appear and we can run back to the cabin before night finds us. Waiting for him, I catch sight of movement to my right. I can’t be sure who I see, but my machete is in front of me. I know the figure doesn’t belong to Quill. I doubt the Death Dealer he chased has returned. The figure is too small, and her movements jerk too much.
The night-dweller’s bright eyes stare at me from the shadows in the woods. She won’t come out until protected by the darkness. I can’t fathom how she avoids the wolves or the traps except somehow this Death Dealer adapted to her world. She didn’t eat Skittles or play music to retain her humanity. Embracing the darkness, she became a part of it.
Unable to wait any longer to climb, I remove the band holding the machete to my wrist and then slide it into the jacket holster Quill created for me. I reach up and try to find footing in the grooves of the massive tree. The climb isn’t easy, and the darkness doesn’t wait for me to get comfortable.
The woman inches closer. Glancing at her over my shoulder, I don’t want to look away. I feel as if she’ll spring at me if I don’t stay focused on her. Even so, I force myself to look at where I climb further up into the tree.
I don’t want to imagine Quill hurt, and I refuse to believe he’s dead. No doubt he’s climbing a tree just like me. He’ll wait out the night and come for me in the morning. I just have to survive that long.
I’ll need to embrace the darkness if I want to see the dawn and reunite with Quill.
Chapter Thirty
Quill
Hesitation is a killer’s enemy. The Death Dealer’s crystal blue eyes hold no uncertainty. Even with a broken neck, he moves with ease. When I corner him, I never spot a single moment of fear on his face. He exists to kill, and the Lost Highway gives him the freedom he desires. His entire life narrows to this moment with me.
In contrast, my mind is on Odessa rather than the battle before me. I know she isn’t stupid, but panic still overwhelms her. If she followed me or tried to return to the cabin, she’s likely dead now. Or at least trapped until I can find her.
The man moves quickly, showing his past training in his swift kick to my knee. He takes me down easily, and I’ll die out here if I can’t stop worrying about Odessa. Flipping him over me and onto the ground, I return to my feet. He’s back on his immediately too. We circle each other, reaching out and taking swipes with our weapons. I cut his shoulder. He tears into my chest. My blade gets lodged in one of his eyes. His ax tears open my jaw. We remain at an impasse even after he uses my blade from his eye to cut open the palm of my hand.
When I look up from my bloodied palm, I find the night approaching. My gaze meets the Death Dealer’s. We know time is short for us to find safety before the darkness swallows us. My thoughts flash to Odessa in the woods at night. She’s waiting for me to return and save her.
I pull my gun and fire once into the Death Dealer’s face. The sound of the shot echoes in the woods and sends a crackle of energy through the trees. I don’t care about scarce bullets or alerting other Death Dealers to my location. All that matters to me is destroying this man and returning to Odessa before it’s too late.
Swiping off his head before he can regain consciousness, I don’t think to shove the trophy into my bag. I’m already on the run back to Odessa.
I barely dodge a trap I set off, but nothing will slow me down. The darkness creeps closer, disguising my path back to Odessa. I struggle against the thick branches slowing me. They reach out to keep me from making progress.
My mind pictures the darkness surrounding Odessa. I see the wolves lurking nearby. They’ll get to her before I can. Even if I can find her before they do, I doubt I can return her to the cabin safely.
I push past the clawing tree branches and run faster than I have in my life, but my time is up. The darkness consumes everything around me until I’m running blind. I smash into a tree and can’t feel my way around it.
Nearby, growling approaches. I barely climb the tree before the wolves snap at my ankles.
Odessa is in the darkness too. I imagine her calling out for me, but I’m trapped here and unable to reach her. She’s all alone, and help isn’t coming.
Howling her name into the darkness, I need my voice to find Odessa and give her the strength to survive the night.
Silence is the only reply. Not even the wolves’ growling reaches me in the
tree. For days, I’ve wondered if ridding myself of Odessa might free me from my recent weaknesses.
Now I’ve lost her, and I’ve never felt weaker.
Chapter Thirty-One
Odessa
Even blinded by the darkness, I’m able to straddle a thick branch in the massive tree. The spot is high enough off the ground to protect me from the wolves. Unfortunately, they aren’t the only threat to my surviving the night.
The hissing woman climbs the tree, searching for me in the black night. I calm my breathing and violently beating heart. I hope to disappear as if she might think I’ve left. I can do little else besides hold the machete at the ready and listen to her bones cracking with exertion as she climbs higher.
Tugging at my shoes, she cackles with glee at finding me. I wrap an arm around a thick branch and reach down to hit her with the machete. Unable to see, I don’t know if I make contact. I do know her fingers tighten around my ankle despite my repeated swinging of the machete.
Her nails digging into my leg, she pulls me downward. I kick her, but she won’t let go, and her body weight drags me lower on the branch. My attempts to kill her only prolong the inevitable. This Death Dealer will soon drag me to the ground and kill me.
Wrapping my legs around the branch as tightly as I can, I yank up my jacket sleeve. Even in the darkness, I know she’ll find my exposed flesh. Pressing my feet against the tree to hold me upright, I have one shot at ending her before she does me.
When her teeth sink into my wrist, I cup her head with my bloody hand to keep her in place. Leaning over, I use my free hand to shove the machete into her skull. Though the blade hits resistance, I’m unsure if I’m stabbing her until her teeth release me and she drops away.
I grab onto the tree to keep from following her to the ground. Hugging the trunk, I imagine I’m holding onto Quill. I press my face against the rough bark and pretend I’m back at the cabin.
Lost Highway Page 9
