Fortune's Detour: Prequel of the Deka Series by Abigail Schwaig

by Abigail Schwaig

  His hair was still solar-bleached and flipped into perfect short strands; styled with gel probably. He looked like a lean contact sport player, and he smelled like my favorite cologne.

  I remembered the scent, and like instantaneous Doorway travel, I was zapped back to a memory of the two of us at the park, near the beginning of our relationship when everything was rosy. It was the berry picnic. Our first and last together.

  He had just popped one into my mouth and asked if I liked it- I nodded yes, my mouth full of the sweet juicy fruit, my eyes squinting in merriment. And then I babbled, in the random way that things tended to pop out of my mouth, “I love the way you smell; I could eat you, too.” He laughed; his great, strong, beautiful laugh.

  I felt the familiar lost feeling in the pit of my stomach, as if only he could restore my numbness to working order. Ugh, even after the way he treated me, I still reacted to his nearness. Did I actually feel something for his soul, or was it just physical attraction? When I was safe at home I knew I didn’t love him, but being in his presence just made me confused.

  There was no emotional attraction on my part by now. I wanted absolutely nothing to do with who he was. Looking at him through the light of truth, I felt absolutely repulsed by his perfected appearance, his sensual way of moving.

  I felt disgusted. Something snapped. Any lingering affections I might have cherished for him turned cold and left me furious at his audacity.

  “Stall him!” came a small voice in my ear.

  Sam needed time. I adjusted my boiling feelings and tried to speak stoically. “David, if you leave now, I won’t tell anyone about this. We can both move on in our lives, without worrying about the past catching up with us someday.” Of course he wasn’t going to leave. But hopefully his tongue would loosen and make him try to explain, to charm me, to weave a new spell over my senses, poisoning me, paralyzing me like a spider would its meal.

  If I knew him (and I did), he would not leave just yet. It wasn’t his style.

  "Let me explain the story from my side," he interrupted; the charm building up, recharging like solar energy, gathering momentum. I felt foggy-minded, stuck in a cloud. I needed to stay away from the heady effect of his words; his looks. The image of a fly trapped in a spider’s web constantly flashed through my brain, as if it was trying to give me a not-so-subtle hint. I know; I know! I tried to calm down the part of me that was freaking out being near him.

  I shook my head, speaking honestly. "I don't think that talking and getting personal right now is a good idea." But how else do I stall him?

  He tried a new tactic. “Natalie- you belong with me- we should be together. You told me yourself, nobody else is right for you. The same is true of me; I know it.”

  Here it comes. Time for the destiny card. “What?!” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The skeggar!

  “Come on, baby. We’ll get out of here. We’ll be okay, just as long as we leave now.” The urgency in his voice was unnerving.

  “Where?” My eyes darted back and forth, trying to avoid his direct gaze. Stall him; stall him!

  “As long as it’s far away from here, does it really matter? We’ll be together. That’s all we need.”

  He wanted to take me with him to some far-away place? He wanted me? The thought was intoxicating. This is what I had day-dreamed of when we were together. Blue angels, it was what I had been fantasizing about ever since I was a little girl. To get swept away by love and carried off on an adventure. It’s what I always wanted. That’s the side of my personality only David knew. The scared little girl that wanted to run away from obligation. He was playing off of me.

  I had wondered it thousands of times: if he had come for me, would I have run away with him? Would I have kept my composure and seen him for who he really was?

  Coming back to the present moment, I snorted. That’s where the stunningly absurd problem cropped up. None of this was real. None of it had ever been real. David had always been playing a game, playing at living when life was passing him by. He thought he had the best time of anybody in the entire galaxy, but he was nothing more than an automaton going through the motions. In truth, I had never met anyone so dead before. I realized I pitied him.

  For a moment I couldn’t believe I had ever loved this thing in front of me. I cocked my head and took in the sight. He was looking beautiful, as always. His solar-kissed hair would always keep its luster, long after I went gray. His skin would be perfect when I wrinkled with age. I knew that for certain. The boy had incredible genes. His eyes were blue as my ocean, bottomless and tragic as the very depths of the sea. I allowed myself to feel the exhilaration, the chemical euphoria of being in his presence, one last time.

  I remembered how in the beginning of our relationship, I couldn’t think at all; back then I didn’t think much of it. ‘That’s love,’ I had said to myself. I had just basked in being near him.

  Ready to inhabit the situation at hand, I rubbed my hands together to generate some physical sensation besides his nearness. My hands stung with the burst of friction. It felt good to feel the heat of pain; it was pulling me further away from his spell.

  David was David simply because of the factors in his life. Take those away and David would lose his appeal, the very personality that made him so entrancing. He was nothing more than a drifting ghost.

  “Come on, babe.” He reached for me, taking my soft hand in his. I smiled. For the first time in forever, David was holding my hand and I felt nothing. There was no thrill. I wasn’t excited or even warmed by it. I felt apathetic. I didn’t care.

  I laughed.

  I did not care one straw about this boy. Oh, the liberation! I seemed to see it all as if I was hovering miles above, watching through a telescopic lens. Somehow, even in that imaginary reality, Sam played a role. Sam would always be a part of me. A small, secret smile stole across my face whenever I thought of him.

  David’s hand grasped my arm with an intensity that sharpened my awareness of everything around me, the weather-bleached wood of the shack, the scratchiness of the sand weed growing through the boards of the shack tickling my ankle, the hot scorch of the Winter’s dayshine on my neck.

  I yelped, jolted back. David was really quite strong. My eyes flicked to his waist- did he have his gun? Would he shoot me now? He looked deep into my eyes and wordlessly pulled me in for a passionate kiss. His lips on mine, I felt the sensations of all other things fade away. There was nothing spectacular about a kiss like this. Only that it managed to hurt as spectacularly as fireworks managed to explode and shower sparks. His force jarred my lips, my teeth, my jaw, my neck… I squirmed, pulling away. But I couldn’t- I was locked in his grasp. Constricted by his arms crushing around my waist.

  How much longer am I supposed to stall him?

  I struggled; I couldn’t get away. Okay, fine. I would just wait him out.

  As he continued our one-sided lover’s reunion, I took the time to think. No plans came to mind, so I considered what David was offering and how I could use that to keep me alive a little longer. Every second counts.

  If David seriously loved me, he would have made a plan for us. He would have showed me how much he cared, like a real man does. He wouldn’t waste words, talking about destiny and stupid adolescent love-talk. He would have put on his man pants and gone out and done something about it, respecting me with his actions.

  I gazed up at David; through him. Even as this blonde immortal kissed me, I knew who I wanted and his strong face flickered before my eyes.

  Sam.

  He was an ordinary man, with moments of brilliance. Plain brown hair and a bland kind of face, but there was something about him. Something rare and priceless. And he cared about me. He may not be in love with me, but I was going to live long enough to find out if he ever could. You can count on it.

  David paused to see how his attentions were taking affect. They weren’t.

  “No.” I spoke simply, feeling at peace.

  David loo
ked at me with a sort of angry, bemused fixation. His face twisted a bit. He shook his head slowly, unbelievingly. “What are you saying, Natalie?”

  “I’m not yours anymore.” I paused, thinking. By now I had forgotten the order to stall him. “I don’t think I ever was- I was always searching for something bigger than myself, and I know now it wasn’t an actual possibility- what I had my heart set on finding. I was looking for… I was searching for a god inside a man. And what I found was just a man trying to be a god.” I touched my fingers to his lips, needing to finish what I started. Needing the truth of my revelation spoken out loud. “You know, David, you’re such a good idea on paper. In theory. But it doesn’t work out in the real world. And I want real, not fake. I thought you and I…” the sentence remained unfinished. There was no more to say. I shook my head, stepping away. It was time to go, but I didn’t know how to end it, here and now.

  All I wanted was to run wild and free, away from this shack in the middle of nowhere. I wanted to see Sam’s face in front of me, see him smile and watch his eyes shine the way they did when he teased me, or talked about what he was passionate about. I wanted to get back into that rundown old vehicle and drive and drive and drive. To the ends of Tera. Just sharing the silence, the joy of living with somebody you love. I wanted out.

  David faltered a bit.

  I continued, feeling a load had been lifted off of my chest. “Nothing against you, David, just-” I shrugged, grinning. My heart must have been so full of another man that I couldn’t read the one before me. He was like a stone wall, as if I had never before seen him. Maybe I never had. “I should have known. I just should have known. It was such a rush, I should have known it wouldn’t be the right thing- things like that can’t last, they… they shouldn’t.” I shook my head, searching for the right metaphor- fireworks? “We aren’t meant to live out nonsensical romantic tales, because they’re here for a moment and then gone.” I stared up at him, wide-eyed and face shining, feeling like a veil had been torn from my sight. I probably looked ridiculous.

  “Where are you getting that idea?” He chose his words carefully. His hand slipped down my arm and gripped it.

  I felt a wave of panic immediately wash over my muscles.

  He slackened a little, but kept his hold just the same. It was too tight to wrench away.

  I contracted instinctively. In a voice that I hoped was calm and collected, I spoke. “Let go of me, David.” And please accept my refusal to run away with you by not trying to kill me this time, K? “I’m not going with you.”

  He looked unfazed and completely disregarded my words.

  I shouldn’t have been surprised.

  “You aren’t safe here.” He looked at me with that intensity I used to enjoy so much. Now it sincerely alarmed me. What was he going to do?! Icy fear gripped my stomach as his hold continued, tightening until I could barely stand it. “You’re hurting me,” I managed to yelp.

  “When you look back on this you’ll know I did it to protect you.”

  I gasped. “No, stop-” I shook my head and barely managed to twist away, out of his grasp. I backed up, glancing around wildly, then back up at him, desperately trying to find an escape.

  He held up his hand in a pacifying gesture. I dallied. He turned, shrugging a shoulder and cutting his eyes to me. “Natalie, listen…”

  I was listening. Unexpectedly, he lunged.

  I barely had time to shriek before a terrible noise rang out. He stood before me; a strange expression on his face. He took a step, grasped his shirt, and tried to speak I guess. He started to keel over; automatically I reached out to catch him. I gasped. Blood was everywhere on his torso; pouring through his shirt and staining my hands. From my fingers to my forearms, I was smeared red. The thick, overpowering, iron scent of blood filled my nostrils and dizzied me. Glancing down I noted that the floor was unnaturally void of blood.

  “Where did- who?” I gulped, floundering under his weight. I had never been so shocked. One moment he was covertly attacking me, the next I wind up carrying his weight and wearing his blood. What in the blue hells just happened?

  “It was a sniper’s bullet. No chance a close-up could be this pristine and clean.” I heard Sam’s voice speaking in my head, and then I realized that the ear-bud was still firmly in place.

  Thank Deka he was there! “Sam! Can you call someone?!”

  “I already have, now I need you to do something.”

  “What do I do?” I gasped, half-slipping on the slick of blood that now oozed and spread itself across the floor.

  “Staunch the wound with his shirt, but be extremely careful not to get any fragments of cloth inside it.”

  “O-Okay,” I stammered, trembling with exertion. David’s eyes were open, but he didn’t seem to be conscious. Maybe it was shock. I fumbled with him, trying to sit down gently and keep him from smashing his nose against the floor. It was such a perfect nose. The least I could do was safeguard it.

  Unsteady on my feet, I slipped backwards and sat in his blood. Within seconds, my jeans were sickeningly damp and continued to greedily soak up the gore. His chest and head I cradled in my lap as much as possible, twisting him right side up, trying to staunch a wound that was quickly turning into a geyser.

  It was a strange turn of events. I thought I would be the one lying dead on the floor at the end of our conversation. Now that I held the control over his body, I found that there was no gun on his person. Odd.

  “What am I doing?” I spoke more to myself than anyone else. Sam supplied me with an answer.

  “We’re going to try to save him; keeping him alive in custody is the only chance of getting a confession, now.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t need any more explanation. Frantically, I ripped away the dry part of what was left of his shirt and groped the loose ends together, wrapping it quickly into a poultice-shaped bag with nothing sticking out that could get stuck and exacerbate his wound further, then plunged it down into the source of the fountain of blood.

  David moaned as if I had just sawed off a limb.

  “I’m so sorry, baby.” The murmur slipped out of my mouth unconsciously. I would have said it to anyone in the same situation. I cradled his head in my available hand, and looked into his eyes, wide in pain.

  His mouth was moving, but no sound came out. Such a rush of emotions as I have never felt attacked me there and then. Here David was, bleeding to death in my arms, after trying to forcibly take me with him on the run. His life lay in my hands.

  “Shhh,” I soothed, clutching his neck, bringing his concrete-slab like head up a little higher than the rest of his prone body. I was afraid that since it was a gut shot, he would bleed out right there on the floor. His skin was paling and breaking out into a sweat. His eyes, dilated with adrenalin and pain just a few moments earlier, were now half-closed in numbness. They glazed over just as I tried shifting my weight to get more of a pressure hold on his wound. Trying to keep his heavy head up while I inched around was a strain. My muscles quivered and contracted with the dead weight in my arms.

  His eyes were open, but for how long? “You’re going to be fine, David,” I said loudly, rationally, trying to comfort us both.

  Lies. All lies. He looked like he was about to die right there in my arms as my clothes soaked up his bright, beautiful blood. “SAM. Where is everybody?!” Even as I spoke, the crunch of tires on gravel and the skitter of feet jumping down and shuffling along the pebbles broke through the sultry silence of the marsh. Through the cracks in the slats of wood, I could make out several people jogging for the shack. A wheeled bed-trolley was being pushed along, over the pebbles as though they didn’t exist. I looked up as the team of medics quietly invaded the hut, bringing up the emergency gurney and checking his vitals. A woman with thin, skin-tight gloves on took over the pressing of the wound and carefully pulled my hand away. I tried to get up, but when I moved greater blood flow seemed to spout forth from the hole in David’s torso, so a medic asked me to stay put
for a moment. I obeyed, keeping my germy, bloody arms away from the open wound. The smell of antiseptic was biting, cutting through the air like a neurotoxin. I gagged on the thick acidic scent. Even though I breathed through my nose, I could still taste it.

  I waited until one of them gestured to relieve me of my position. I tried to get to my knees, but there was so much blood, I slipped and hit my head on the cabinet behind me. It really hurt of course, and I had to squeeze my whole face up to keep from crying, but I was more interested in getting out of there than in inspecting my bruise. Besides, I would just smear blood all over the place.

  Sam walked through the door. I gave a sigh a relief. I hadn’t realized I had been holding my breath. Stupid chemicals.

  He talked a moment to the head medic who was overseeing operations on the patient and then caught my eye, giving me the universal “just one more second” sign. I almost hyperventilated. The smells were getting to me, making me sharply wide awake and nauseously drowsy at the same time. I just wanted out.