Sound theory, but I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t have tried following us. “Why are you so sure they’re not trailing us right now?”
“We all have certain strengths. One of mine happens to be a strong sense of nature, hunting, tracking, living off the land…” He opened his arms in gesture to the nature we were immersed in. “That sort of thing. It’s a rare trait for the other guys.”
While it was good to know we had an advantage, I was hung up on his choice of words. “Did you say one of your strengths?”
“I’m kind of a mutt,” he answered with a shrug. “I have a few specialties.”
I smiled at the term mutt, but he wasn’t looking. “Like what?”
He ticked them off on his fingers. “I’m really good at fixing things and solving problems, I’m a good fighter, and I’m kind of smart.”
I had seen proof of his fighting skills and had to agree with him about that one, but I rolled my eyes at the suggestion of his heightened intelligence. “Not cocky at all, are you?”
He shrugged like he couldn’t help it. “It’s all in my blood.”
“So you’re born with these strengths?”
“Kind of.” He hesitated and looked at me like he was deliberating on how much to tell me. Again, he was careful with his words, “We’re born with certain preprogrammed traits, but they don’t show up until late in adolescence. Then, we start to master these specialties while developing an increase in overall strength and speed.”
“Hmm.” The idea of being born with an aptitude in certain things was, well, interesting. Whoever, whatever, he was...it intrigued me. So much so that curiosity replaced the bitchiness from a moment ago. “So, aside from the ones you have, what other specialties are there?”
“There are a total of twelve. The nature thing, the fighter, the crafty-fixer, and the smart one.” He listed them slowly, starting with his own traits as he ticked them off on his fingers. I kept my expression blank as he spoke. From the way he was eyeing me, I knew it wouldn’t take much of a reaction from me—an eyebrow raise, running, kicking and screaming, or anything in between—for him to put a stop to this question and answer session. “There are manipulators of the four elements: air, water, earth, and fire, natural born leaders, and charmers that are good with people.”
I immediately thought of Alec. Alec, the charmer. Nathan was definitely lacking that one.
That was only ten specialties. While I couldn’t wait to grill him for examples of what a fire manipulator could do or what kind of tricks could be done with water, I wanted to know what the other two were.
He hesitated and looked down at me as if he could read my mind. “The others are a little weird,” he cautioned.
“Compared to the normalcy of everything else?”
He shrugged as if realizing for the first time that I had a point. “There are some that can predict the future, visit others in their dreams and communicate with them. We call them prophets.”
“Wow,” I breathed. Now that was cool.
He made a face like he hadn’t been prepared for me to be that accepting. “The last one is more common among the other guys,” he warned, and I nodded my encouragement. I was a heartbeat away from wailing, “Come on already!”
“They have some abilities to communicate with the dead,” he said.
Okay. Breathe, Kris. Remember to breathe. Don’t let him know how incredibly, insanely messed up that is!
Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not really. After learning that I lived in a world in which not everyone was entirely human, I really shouldn’t have been surprised that some of them could speak to the dead. Prophets and mediums—the so-called make believe—were real…whatever it was the other five percent of Nathan was. Again, I wondered what that was. Before I could ask, he walked away.
He was the master of avoidance. I wondered if that was a special trait.
As I hurried after him, I tossed around a few ideas on how to handle these new revelations. Indifference? Fear? I thought about throwing a tantrum, complete with kicking and screaming, just for laughs.
That was it. Humor would work. I opted to react with my always-dependable wit, and just a touch of sarcasm. “So, you’re actually kind of boring, huh? I mean, compared to the others.”
He didn’t respond, but I knew he heard me.
“Sure, you’re a fighting, shooting Mr. Fix It, mountain-climbing, rabbit-wrangling Rain Man,” I sang to his back, “but you can’t predict the future or talk to the dead. If you ask me, you got a raw deal.”
That earned me a glare tossed over his shoulder. “I’m happy with what I got.”
I chuckled. Under my breath and to his back. Not his face. I wasn’t that stupid. And I was alone. In the woods. With a man capable of killing. I would know.
At least the humor approach had worked. The added awkwardness brought on by the subject matter evaporated, leaving us with the usual amount of awkwardness. He didn’t ask me about my reaction, and I didn’t ask him for any more details. Maybe later, after I had time to absorb all that he had told me. It was a lot to digest for now—inherited specialties, superior strength and speed, slowed aging process, and let’s not forget the not-all-human part.
Come to think about, I probably should have run, kicking and screaming, a long time ago.
* * *
I was a walking icicle by the time we stopped for the evening.
He got a fire going and then assembled the tent as I attempted to thaw out. I was shivering too badly to be of much help to Nathan. More than once, I caught him watching me with a trace of concern on his face. He probably figured I was about to slip into a hypothermic coma. Pneumonia was all but unavoidable.
Once the tent was erected, I slipped inside to strip out of my cold wet clothes, and put on cold dry ones. It helped some, but I didn’t think I would ever stop shaking. I sat as close to the fire as I dared, but it didn’t help much and, after a long miserable hour, I went to bed shivering.
I was still awake when Nathan came in later.
I tried not to worry that I couldn’t feel my toes anymore. Mind over matter, I told myself. It didn’t work. My teeth chattered louder. My whole body shook in rebellion.
I felt Nathan’s eyes on me. His voice cut through the cold black night air between us. “You okay?”
“F-f-fine,” I lied. I was most definitely not fine as my body convulsed uncontrollably.
Nathan grumbled something unintelligible as he turned onto his side, facing me. I didn’t notice that he had unzipped my sleeping bag until a blast of chilly air hit my skin. I wouldn’t have thought it possible to be colder than I already was. Boy, had I been wrong.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked.
I watched as he unzipped his sleeping bag next. He glanced up at me. “You’re cold, right?”
I wondered about the authenticity of his kind of smart claim. Under normal circumstances, I would have let him have it with the smart-ass quip he deserved. At the moment, I was too miserable to bother.
He scooted closer to me, opened his sleeping bag wide, and looked at me expectantly, as if he were waiting for me to crawl in there with him. Afraid of getting it wrong and embarrassing myself again, I hesitated.
“Do you want to get warm, or not?” He held the sleeping bag open and waited. It seemed like a clear-cut invitation to me.
I eyed him warily. The idea was enticing. A little too intimate, perhaps, considering we could barely stand each other. But in extreme situations, one would do whatever they had to do for survival. Or, at least, to save their toes from needing to be amputated later. In my case, that included cuddling with Nathan.
I had hesitated long enough. My zipper was still undone, and I was getting colder by the second. With a sigh of relief, and somewhat grudgingly, I slid into his sleeping bag.
His alone was not big enough for both of us. He pulled the opened ends of our respective bags together, wrapping both of us up in one big cocoon. Tucking mine snuggly around my ba
ckside, he ensured that no cold air could seep in then, in a move that caught my breath in my throat, slipped his arm inside and wrapped it around my waist to pull me against him.
My face buried in his chest and our bodies connected in a few strategic places in a way that brought a flush to my skin. Regardless of the unwanted intimacy we were forced into, it wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be. Either that or I was just that cold.
It actually felt good. He was warm. Really warm. His hand moved briskly over my back, and I didn’t know if it was heat from the friction or from his touch alone that seared through my shirt. Either way, I welcomed it and, after a few moments, my body started to relax, my teeth stopped chattering, and my breathing steadied.
“Better?” With the top of my head resting beneath his chin, his breath tickled my ear. The shiver that racked my body this time was not the cold-induced kind. Nor was it the bad kind.
“Much better. Thank you,” I mumbled into his shirt, grateful I had that to hide in as I tried to convince myself it wasn’t a good kind of shiver either.
Bad shivers versus good shivers aside, I was warm and not about to move anytime soon. The cold hovered over us, waiting to get me if I drifted too far away from the shelter of Nathan’s body. I was staying right where I was, and he was going to have to deal with it. Funny thing was he didn’t seem to mind.
Maybe he realized I would need my toes to keep up with him tomorrow.
Or maybe he wasn’t as bad as I thought?
And maybe I didn’t really want to move anyway. As I drifted off to sleep, I was only semi-aware of Nathan’s hand still rubbing my back, slower and more as a soothing gesture than a warming one, and the last thing I thought before I found sleep was how nice it felt.
* * *
A furtive shuffling woke me up. When I opened my eyes, I saw light shining through the tent, and Nathan trying to squirm out from under me. For a moment, I was horrified to realize we had cuddled together all night, and he had woken with my head on his chest. Then the amusement of watching him trying to wiggle away without waking me outweighed the awkwardness, and I got over it.
He pulled off a fairly decent job, and didn’t realize I was awake and watching him until he finally managed to get free and sat up. When he glanced down at me, I flashed him an over-the-top smile.
He shook his head as he got to his knees. “If you’re up, let’s go,” he said before climbing outside.
“Somebody’s grouchy this morning,” I muttered.
I jumped when he jerked the tent flap back. “Yes,” he grumbled. “Come on, get up.”
He was waiting, impatiently, by the time I crawled outside. He took to rolling up the sleeping bags and dismantling the tent as I went in search of a tree. By the time I rejoined him, he had the bag over his shoulder, waiting. I blushed as I sauntered back.
“Ready when you are,” I said, trying to sound like I didn’t care that he knew what I had been doing.
He wasted no time in taking off. I fell into step behind him.
“So, where to today? A particular patch of bare trees to the west? An especially high peak perhaps? Maybe one with some snow? I could use a little change in scenery.”
“If you stop complaining and keep up, we might reach our destination today,” he said.
“Wait, what?” I faltered briefly. “You mean we’re not aimlessly wandering? We’ve actually been going somewhere?”
“Yeah,” he said like he clearly thought I was an idiot for not already knowing that.
I cleared my throat. “So, where are we going?”
“I know of a cabin.”
I actually stopped walking. “Whoa, wait,” I called, trotting to catch up to him. “Are you saying there’s a chance I might get to sleep in something other than that crappy tent tonight?”
“If you can keep up,” he said. There was a challenge in his voice.
Suddenly, I had a burst of energy. No more walking? No more sleeping on the ground? No more cuddling with Nathan for warmth? No more peeing behind a tree?
I had found my motivation, and it was a wonderful thing.
CHAPTER 10
As the sun started to set and we approached the point in the evening in which we would usually stop to make camp, I started to lose hope. Then, miraculously, we made it.
I crouched beside Nathan and peered down the scarily steep slope we were perched atop. It took me a while to spot it nestled amongst the trees, but far—really far—below us was a barely visible tiny cabin. There were no other signs of civilization for as far as my eyes could see. From up that high, that was far. We had a bit of a hike ahead of us to get to it. I was eager to get started, but Nathan was cautious as always as he scanned the cabin and the ridge surrounding it.
“What’s the problem?” I asked.
“This cabin has been used as a safe house for years, but it’s been a while since I’ve been here. I don’t know if it’s still safe or not.”
“How will you know?” I looked longingly at the cabin, with its four walls and hard roof. I’d bet there was a bed, or a cot, or something to sleep on, and if I were lucky, maybe even running water. Whatever it was going to take for me to get those luxuries, I was willing to do it.
Nathan looked at me, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he stood and, without another word, started down the slope. I hated it when he did that. He hadn’t indicated one way or the other, but in this case, I assumed I was supposed to follow.
About thirty seconds into the descent, I determined he probably had not intended for me to follow. There had to be an easier way to get off this thing, but no, he chose the neck-breaking route. We slid down the steep slope on an unstable mixture of loose rock and frozen earth. I lost count of how many times Nathan had to grab my arm to keep me from plummeting face first to the bottom. It took an eternity for the ground to level out to something a little less lethal and, when it did, I allowed myself a moment of gratification when I looked back at what I had accomplished.
As proud as I was, I was more excited to see the small oval field that welcomed us at the base. Nathan stopped just outside the perimeter so that we remained hidden in the trees. The cabin was nestled along the tree line on the opposite side of the clearing, fifty impossibly long yards away.
“You stay here,” he said to me. “I want to check it out first.”
Staying in the cover of the trees, he wrapped around the edge of the clearing, flanking the cabin from the left. I watched until he disappeared from sight. The sun had set while we were descending the mountain, and the darkness was coming in fast, limiting my vision.
Again, my eyes and ears played tricks on me as I waited. In an attempt to block out the ominous shadows that had crept in, and now surrounded me, I studied the cabin.
It looked cute, and cozy, and smaller than I had initially thought. As far as I could tell, it was vacant. Broken limbs littered the front porch. One window was visible on the front wall. A curtain blocked any view of the inside, but there didn’t appear to be any lights on.
As the darkness deepened, the cabin blended into the night.
Where was Nathan? I hated being out there, alone in the dark. At least, when he was around, I felt safe. I nibbled on my lip as I looked around nervously, contemplating my next move. There really didn’t appear to be anyone else there. The dark and scary woods felt more threatening than the enticing cabin, even with its questionable safety status.
Having made up my mind, I started in the direction Nathan had gone, making sure to stay in the cover of the trees as he had. I made an effort to keep close to the edge of the clearing so that I didn’t venture too deep into the woods. Even so, after a few moments, it got harder to make out where the trees ended and the clearing began. I looked up, wishing for the help of the moon. No such luck tonight. Overcast skies blinded me. I edged closer—or so I thought—to the clearing and tried to spot the cabin. My stomach dropped when I realized I had completely lost sight of it.
“Oh, great.” I h
ad wandered a good way from where Nathan had left me. I hoped he would be able to find me—and he wouldn’t be too mad when he did.
Fast and heavy footsteps crashed through the woods toward me. I fought the urge to run as I tried in vain to see who it was. A small part of me dreaded it being Nathan.
“Do you ever listen?” I heard him bark before I saw him.
“What took you so long?” I snapped, but cowered inwardly under the scowl I could now see on his face.
He sighed and turned away from me. “Come on,” he called over his shoulder.
I followed him across the clearing, in the direction of the cabin that I could now see again. I hadn’t wandered that far.
“It’s safe then?” I asked as if my little side adventure was no big deal.
“Yeah, lucky for you.” He stopped outside what looked to be a shed, retrieved a shiny gold key from under a small boulder against the wall, and proceeded up the front steps to let us into the cabin.
Aside from the fact that there was only one twin-sized bed, it was perfect.
It was one open room: the bed against the wall to the right; a fireplace, a couch, and a chair in the far right corner; a kitchen to the left, complete with a sink, microwave, and mini-fridge. There was a closed door to a small rectangular-shaped room in the center that I hoped was a bathroom. There was an open porch on the front and an enclosed porch on the back, accessed through a sliding glass door that took up nearly the entire back wall.
Nathan found a stack of firewood out back, and set to starting a fire right away. The only light came from a small bulb over the sink in the kitchen, and it did little despite the small space. The fire would help light as well as heat the room.
While he was busy with that, I checked the mystery door, and was happy to find a full bathroom. My prayers were answered when the toilet flushed with an emphatic whoosh. I didn’t hesitate when, after I told him the good news, Nathan suggested that I take advantage of the running water.
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