Zhukov's Dogs

by Amanda Cyr

  “Everything will be fine,” I said.

  Val rolled his eyes. “Yeah, sure sounds like it.”

  “I mean it. We’ll fight.”

  For a long time, he continued to stare straight ahead. I could almost see him going through plans, plotting barricade stations, routing emergency escapes, and every minute detail. Then, with another sigh, he came out of his trance and looked to me with a smirk.

  I was so intrigued by the small tug at the corner of his mouth that I had to ask, “What are you thinking?”

  “A lot.”

  It was such an obvious understatement; we both had to laugh. Val scooted closer as he stopped laughing, our shoulders bumping together. I released his hand so I could wrap an arm around him instead, and I smiled at the way Val fit against me perfectly. His body was warmer than it had been before. Even if it was from his angry outburst, I liked to think our proximity had something to do with it, too.

  Val’s fingers resumed their tapping, this time on my thigh. “We’ll tell the others tomorrow. Together.”

  “See what they think and leave it up to a vote?” I asked.

  Val nodded. “Either we all face the Grey Men, or we run and face the guilt of letting hundreds of people die.”

  When put into such simple terms, it made both options sound terrible. The drumming fingers distracted me from thinking about it too much. Val’s shoulders rose as he yawned, and a second later it proved to be contagious.

  “Better get to sleep. Going to need to be fully rested if we’re going to cause anarchy tomorrow,” I said.

  Val chuckled and nodded. We headed for the door, my hand finding Val’s without looking. His room was next to the war room, while the one I shared with Tibbs was further down the hall.

  “You know,” I said as we walked slower than necessary, “I’ve never done the whole ‘walking someone to their door’ thing before.”

  “Never been with a guy. Never walked anyone to their door. Wow, Nik, you’re so boring.”

  “I’ve been called a lot of things. Boring is a new one to me.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll do everything in my power to make you less boring.”

  When we reached his door, Val proved he meant it. He turned to me, grinned like an imp, and said, “So, I’m guessing since you’ve never walked anyone to their door, you’ve probably never had anyone invite you inside either.”

  “Well, that’s not forward at all,” I stammered, unsure whether I was more shocked or excited.

  “I figure if we’re going to die, we might as well make the most of the time we’ve got left.” He shrugged with the same smile, stepping closer but not touching me.

  I leaned in before I could stop myself. The smile, the proximity, and the careful way he drew out his words… It was sinfully masterful. I caught myself an inch from his lips and laughed, “Oh, you’re good.”

  “You have no idea,” Val said as he let go of my hand and draped his arms over my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his waist to pull him closer. Val grinned, assuring me it was exactly what he wanted. Apparently, now that I’d accepted my attraction to him, I was powerless against his wiles.

  Chest to chest, I realized how frail he was. Frail, but not at all weak. I’d seen him outrun Grey Men, scale walls, and take out people three times his size. Such a bony body, yet so agile. My head felt heavy. I let it sink the rest of the way to capture his lips.

  Thoughts of possession, choruses of mine, repeated in my head. I wanted more. I wanted it all. My tongue slipped past my teeth and over the soft seam of his lips. His shiver was slight, barely noticeable, and exhilarating. I shoved him hard against the door. Arms wrapped tighter. Val gasped against my mouth only to press back into the kiss. His fingers wound in my hair, tugged at the roots, and then his lips parted.

  Mine, I thought again. All mine.

  A vibrating in my back pocket brought the world to a crashing halt. I froze. I begged for it to have been a figment of my imagination, just a trick. A second vibration. I drew away quickly, Val slumping against the door. The dazed expression on his face, as he panted to catch his breath, almost tricked me into forgetting about the phone.

  I took it out and read the name on the screen. Aiden. I had to answer if I wanted to cover my tracks. If I wanted to keep Val safe. So, gesturing for Val to be quiet, I answered and walked to the war room. I tried to sound groggy and not breathless.

  “What?” I answered.

  “Did I wake you up?” Aiden asked.

  “Yeah.” I kept my voice low even after the door was shut. “What is it?”

  “Just wanted to let you know that there’s been a slight change to your itinerary. You don’t mind leaving a bit earlier, do you? Like 7:00 a.m. early?”

  “No, no that’s fine.”

  “The sooner the better, right?”

  “Heh, yeah. Look I’m going to go back to bed so just e-mail me the changes.”

  “All-righty. Go get some sleep. Man, I can’t wait to see you tomorrow!”

  “Yeah, same here,” I said with a small, forced laugh.

  It felt so wrong lying to Aiden. Out of everyone I knew, he might have been the only one who would’ve understood the truth if I’d told him. The risks were too great, though. Someone could be listening. I couldn’t chance it, so I resolved that the last thing I would ever say to my best friend was, “Night, Aiden.”

  “Goodnight, buddy.”

  His cheery words twisted in my chest. I hung up and fell against the wall, rolling the phone in my hand. I realized at that moment it wasn’t the Y.I.D. I was going to miss; it was Aiden. The only, real friend I had before coming to Seattle. The person I’d been able to confide in and rely on, no matter what. He’d been more supportive than my father every step of the way, and I was doing all of this without giving him the courtesy of knowing the truth.

  A small knock on the door made me jump. Val let himself in and looked at me, a silent question in the way he tilted his head to one side.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. I flashed him a smile to trick him into thinking I was fine. It didn’t work.

  “Everything okay?” Val asked.

  I stared at my phone. I needed to get rid of it. Soon. “Yeah. Everything’s fine.”

  “Remember how I said I can tell when you’re lying?” Val leaned against the frame and folded his arms over his chest.

  I loved how smug he sounded. Even that arrogant little smirk, the one which used to irritate me, had somehow turned into something charming. Before I could reply, my phone buzzed again. I opened my inbox and looked at the itinerary. The train I was supposed to be on left in six hours. I wouldn’t be on it, but I would make sure to accept the ticket at the station and plant my phone on a piece of luggage.

  Six hours between then and now meant I had some time to sleep and take it easy, start enjoying the new life I’d chosen. I pocketed my phone. Out of sight, out of mind. Val continued staring, waiting for an honest answer with one eyebrow raised.

  “Okay. Everything isn’t fine, but it will be soon,” I told him.

  Val smiled and nodded to let me know that was good enough for him. “All right… So, should we get some sleep?”

  “Yeah. Sleep sounds nice.”

  I followed Val into the hall. Something was different when we reached the door to his bedroom this time. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was close. The way Val kept his arms folded over his chest, fingers tapping on his arm, let me know I wasn’t the only one feeling it.

  It was the phone call. It served as an abrupt reminder of the danger I was and the secrets I kept from him. I ran through what I wanted to say half a million times before I worked up the nerve to force the truth out. It burned like bile trying to scorch its way up my throat.

  “That was a friend—I mean, a co-worker. I’m supposed to be on a train tomorrow morning, so I’m going to go to the station early to… Take care of some things.”

  “Pick up your ticket so it looks like you boarded?” Val guessed.
>
  His quick pick up made me smile. I’d forgotten that Val was a schemer, too. “Yeah, and I’ve got to get rid of my phone. Plant it on someone so by the time they try and track me—”

  “Its GPS could say you’re in Mexico.” Val’s enthusiasm over the plan, despite the failed attempts to sugarcoat it, made me feel better. He nudged my arm with one of his sharp elbows and said, “See, honesty isn’t that hard, is it?”

  We were both smiling by the time we reached his bedroom door, but things still didn’t feel quite right. Was it because there was so much more I needed to tell him? The thought brought me down again.

  “Maybe I should go sleep down the hall,” I suggested.

  “I don’t think you should,” Val said, always surprising me with how boldly he spoke his mind. He opened his door and took a half-step backwards into the shadows of the room. I was ready to disagree, in my most humble tone, when he reached out, took hold of my hands and said, “I mean, if you’re risking so much to be here, then you shouldn’t have to suffer through Tibbs’ snoring.”

  I held my ground as he tried to lead me through the door. The grin on his face. The darkness of the room behind him. The double bed he was inviting me to share. I swallowed hard, realizing why things didn’t feel right. I was nervous.

  “Look, Val, I’m… You know, I’m still new at this, um, stuff. Not new new, but like, you know…” I couldn’t think of any way to phrase it delicately. “With guys.”

  Val’s outburst of laughter didn’t make me feel any better. He let go of my hands so he could cover his mouth before he woke up the entire floor. My face burned, and I heaved a sigh, wishing I’d kept my mouth shut.

  Val stepped toward me as he calmed down. Still wearing a smile, he took my hands again and said, “Let me make this clear: I am not inviting you in so we can have sex. I’m inviting you in because I want you to stay the night with me. If we end up making out, that’s cool, but I am not that guy who puts out on the first date.”

  I didn’t think I could be any more embarrassed, but Val’s casual explanation did the trick. I struggled to find the right words and ended up with nothing close to them. “Well, now this is awkward.”

  “Only for you.” Val chuckled.

  “I didn’t mean to, um, insult you or anything.”

  “By the fact you thought I was going to be easy? Oh, Nik, Nik, Nik.”

  Val stepped backwards into the room again, smiling to let me know there were no hard feelings. I let him lead me after him and kicked the door shut behind me. We stumbled through the dark, avoiding obstacles barely distinguishable by the dim glow of factories across the water.

  “Sorry, place is a bit of a mess,” Val apologized.

  “As long as I don’t break my neck before we get to the bed, it’s fine,” I replied with a small laugh.

  Val gave a triumphant, “Ah-hah!” when his knees hit the side of the bed first. He fell onto it, and I followed him down to the mattress. I was kicking off my shoes when Val sat up again. He rolled out of bed, and I watched his every move. It wasn’t much, but the glow from the factories was just enough to outline his slight frame, and as he pulled his shirt over his head, my mind reeled back to the day I met him on the train. The scars and tattoo marring his back. Lean muscle under pale, pale skin. Jeans hanging dangerously low on bony hips.

  “Didn’t I tell you before that it’s rude to stare?” he asked.

  Shamelessly, I smirked and kept on watching without a word. Even when I couldn’t see his face, I was certain Val knew what he was doing. I listened for the clink of a belt. Anxiousness had replaced every ounce of nervousness. I wanted to know if his body was as cold to the touch as his hands.

  “You want something to sleep in?” Val asked.

  Halfway through the word “something,” I heard the clink I’d been waiting for. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end so fast; you’d think ice had slipped down the back of my shirt. I had to clear my throat before I could get a reply out. “Figured I’d just sleep like this.”

  “You sleep in clothes covered in dried blood?” Val chuckled.

  He was devious. One hundred percent devious. God, I loved it.

  I rose from the bed, standing on the opposite side and not bothering to turn away as I began to undress. I was determined to show him I was every bit as underhanded as him. Besides, since modesty was a wasted virtue, all the years of military service had given me a body worth showing off. By the time I got my sweater off, Val sat in the center of the bed with his legs folded underneath him.

  More or less naked.

  My heart took off at a full sprint. Val had stripped down so he wore nothing more than tartan boxers and a smirk. Despite all my powers of self-restraint, there was nothing in the world which could have kept me from staring. I didn’t feel an ounce of shame for it.

  Val didn’t seem to mind either. He just watched me with a pleased look which, amongst other things, I could barely make out in the dim lighting. I rubbed a hand along my jaw and down the back of my neck, shaking my head as I chuckled.

  “What?” Val asked, cocking his head to the side.

  I studied the magnificent body before me. Val was too thin, too fragile. He looked smaller now without clothes to drown in. The guy was far from weak, though. I’d seen how amazing he was, how fast and capable. There were muscles underneath the cold, pale skin. Small, strong muscles. The longer I stared, the more impressive he seemed, and the more I couldn’t believe I’d ever doubted staying by his side.

  There was no way in hell I was going to tell him that. I’d been teased enough already for saying the wrong thing. Instead, I smiled and said, “I was just thinking about when we met on the train. You took your clothes off right there in front of me, a total stranger… And you told me it was rude to stare.”

  Val doubled over and laughed. He shook his head as he held it in his hands. “Well, it is!”

  “You were such a prat.”

  “Were? I’m still pretty terrible, I think.”

  “Perfect,” I said, snapping my fingers like I’d put together some great idea. “I’m rude and you’re terrible.”

  “Guess that means we’re a great match, then.”

  I’d seen Val smile more in the last hour than I’d seen in the last week, and I took great satisfaction in knowing I was the reason. He leaned back, bracing himself with his arms on the mattress. His shoulders rolled, shadows shifted, and suddenly, miles of skin were exposed to me.

  “I can be rude, too,” Val said. His eyes wandered from my face, but all at once, the mischievous look I’d grown so fond of faded. His smile shrank. I looked down to see what had bothered him. Was he disappointed I wasn’t in better shape? Was it my unusual lack of tattoos?

  “Does it still hurt?” he asked, staring at the heavy, gauze bandaging wrapped around where I’d taken a bullet.

  I shook my head and told him, “It’s fine. I’ve had worse and…” I hesitated, but only for a second, “And I heal faster than normal.”

  Val looked up to my face, confused. I explained how in my line of work, I’d been given supplements and injections, which sped up the recovery process. He didn’t ask about the details, for which I was grateful, and when I finished, he sat silently.

  After a few seconds, Val sat up straight and raised a hand to trace along the uneven edge where gauze met skin. His fingers caught on an old scar along my ribcage. “What happened here?” he asked.

  “Had a bad run-in with a shaman in Nigeria.”

  At first Val chuckled. When he realized I wasn’t joking, he full on laughed. I was glad he wasn’t put off by the truth, and relieved that he didn’t ask what sort of profession involved shaman encounters overseas. His fingers continued along the seam of the bandages until they found another scar on my ribs.

  “That one was way worse. My friend and I got captured by New Zealand militia a couple years back. The ones on my arms are from it too.”

  “So, when people ask,” Val said as his hand moved to my
arm to find the scars which started high on my shoulder and wrapped down around past my elbow, “I can tell them my boyfriend is a shaman hunter and a torture victim.”

  So, I was his boyfriend now? I didn’t recall that discussion, but something about the word felt right when it was coming from him. I liked the title more than any of the previous ones I’d held, despite the fact it didn’t come with a pin or jump in rank.

  “It sounds pretty badass, right?”

  “Very badass.”

  Laughter and understanding received from honesty. I was long gone, far past the point of euphoria. A smile and a small tug on my belt loop was all it took after that. I shed my jeans, discarding them with the last of my worries. Val stole a quick look at the boxer-briefs then cut his eyes to the blankets.

  I didn’t make fun of his unexpected coyness or ask if there was color in his cheeks. Instead, I smiled and helped him pull the blankets back. The bed groaned under our weight when we slipped between flannel sheets and layers of blankets.

  Val grabbed a pillow from the edge of the bed for us to share. I folded an arm underneath it, wrapping the other around Val’s narrow waist and pulling him closer. He was every bit as cold as I imagined. Every inch of his body as frozen as the fingers tracing a scar on my collarbone. Just as cold as the lips stretching into a small smile.

  Mine.

  Prison Cell 046, Eisenhower Building—Washington, D.C.

  Wednesday, November 25th, 2076—7:00 p.m.

  or hours, I’d been lying on my cot, restless, counting the cracks in the ceiling. Seven cracks. If I stared at them long enough, they seemed to grow. Counting those cracks over and over again, mundane as it was, was the only thing keeping me from jumping the gun.

  Clumsy footsteps echoed down the hall. I used to be able to keep track of the time based on when patrols passed by my cell. Thanks to Dr. Halliburton, that schedule was gone. I was left guessing, hoping each patrol I heard was the seven o’clock one, which was followed by lights-out.