Just as quickly as I think it, I force the thought away, shaking off the shock. That’s disgusting. Why would I possibly want to hurt Asher, let alone kill him? The hate and anger I feel toward him completely fades as I glance at his neck and the slashes over the rest of his body, then mine. We’re both entirely lucky that we survived that. And if two were this hard to beat, I can’t imagine what Gavin was—is going through.
There’s so much adrenaline pouring through my veins, but my whole body is tense with anger. Is this something normal for me? Am I usually this angry? If … when I get my memories back, will I even like myself?
It’s no use, though. As clear as my mind feels right now, I still can’t recall anything. And the worst part is I don’t know who I’m most angry with: Gavin for forcing me to leave, me for not fighting harder to stay, or Asher for taking me away.
However, anger is as useful as tears, which is to say not at all. So, I force my mind away from Gavin and focus instead on what I did to the birds. I have no idea how I was able to do what I did, but it didn’t feel wrong. It felt right. Like that was how I was supposed to be, and I’ve just been living in a fog all this time. It’s the first time I’ve felt right since I got here. I sneak glances at Asher trying to determine how he feels about what I did.
Asher only looks at me a few times, but I don’t see disgust or any of the other things I imagined would be in his eyes after what I just did. Things I feel about what I just did. In fact, he seems impressed—the wonderment in his eyes speaks volumes—and not at all surprised that I did it. Or even that I could do it. It’s as if he knew, which is odd, since I didn’t even know I could do that.
Without warning, because I can’t see where we’re going, we burst out past the trees and into the full sunlight—and heat—of morning. I wince and shadow my eyes with my hand, but even then we don’t stop. In fact, Asher pushes Starshine to run even faster.
I glare at Asher, but he won’t look at me. Won’t even let me turn around to sit properly. Instead, I’m stuck facing him, facing where Gavin got left behind.
“We have to go back!” I yell.
“No.”
“But Gavin needs us!” Needs me. I can’t leave him.
“He’s smart. He’ll figure out how to get out of that and find us. If we go back, we’ll just get hurt.” His eyes meet mine for a moment before focusing back on the path. “You’ll get hurt. I’m not taking that chance.”
“But look what I did to those birds! I could help him!” Even though what I did to the birds disgusts me, I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again to save Gavin.
He shakes his head. “That was only two birds, Evie. Not a whole flock.”
“But—”
“I’m not going back, Evie!”
His jaw is tight as he clenches his teeth and I know beyond a doubt that no matter what I say or do at this point, I’m not going to get him to change his mind. He thinks Gavin is dead. That much is obvious, but I refuse to believe it.
Gavin’s not gone. He can’t be.
If he doesn’t want to go back to find Gavin, I’ll force him. I sit up as straight as I can, and then in one quick movement I bring my arms and legs up to my chest and wedge them between Asher and me. Then, as hard and as quick as I can, I push. Asher’s mouth forms a little “o” of surprise as he flips over the back of Starshine to land on his butt on the ground.
Starshine starts to slow, but before Asher can get back up, I spin around so I’m facing forward, grip the reins as I settle my feet into the stirrups, and tug on the reins as Gavin taught me. Starshine circles around, stomping her hooves, so we’re both facing Asher. He’s back on his feet now, brushing at the dirt on his pants and wincing.
I dig my heels into Starshine’s sides and she bolts forward again, this time back in the direction we came from. Asher jumps out of the way just in time as we thunder past, but before we get more than a few meters—just inside the tree line—I hear a shrill whistle.
Starshine stops so quickly that she ends up standing straight up on her back legs and I find myself dangling from my fingertips. She leans a little to the left and I’m horrified to see she’s going to fall directly onto me. I let go of the reins and fall to the ground with a thump. Somehow, Starshine manages to stay upright before dropping her hooves to the ground again with a thud that shakes the ground.
I scramble to my feet and climb onto her back again, but before I can kick her into action, Asher jumps onto her back behind me. He grabs hold of me, pressing my arms tightly against my sides. Even though I’m struggling, I can’t seem to call up the strength I had earlier. He manages to twist me around, so I’m facing him again, somehow keeping my arms by my side and wrapping his own tightly around me, so I can’t manage to get even a finger between us. But I continue to fight, struggling as much as I can.
“Stop it! Just stop. This is ridiculous. Don’t make me hog-tie you, then hitch you to the horse like a blanket.” He lifts an eyebrow. “I’ll do it. Gavin asked me to protect you. And that’s what I’m going to do. You’re not going back that way. Now stop trying to fight me!” He shouts the last part, startling me, but that’s not what makes me stop. It’s what he said about Gavin.
I open and shut my mouth a few times, before I finally force out in a whisper, “Gavin put you up to this?”
He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Er … yes. But he’ll catch up with us. Now come on before more of those things follow us.” He glances around at the trees as if expecting the flock to appear at any minute, which I’ve no doubt is completely possible.
With no choice left, I try and get more comfortable. It’s not an easy task. My thighs ache, not only from straddling the horse, but because of the way I’m turned and pressed tightly against Asher.
After wiggling and shimmying for a few moments, I finally let go of embarrassment and propriety and just hitch closer to Asher. I wrap one leg around his hip, letting the other lie over his thigh.
The adrenaline I had just moments ago rushes out of my veins as fast as it poured in. The horrid heat feels like I’ve ridden straight into a volcano. My head spins and my thoughts are all fuzzy and mushy.
I curse myself for it. I’m so sick of being sick. My eyes slowly close, and I fight to keep them open, but I’m losing the battle. I don’t want to fall asleep now. I want to go back for Gavin. But my body doesn’t care what I want and, despite all the sticky blood on his shirt, I slump over into Asher’s chest.
His arm tightens around me, pulling me even closer. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he says.
I can’t fight it anymore, so I stop trying, letting the exhaustion and sleep take over.
* * *
The slowing of the horse wakes me and I blink my eyes against the bright sun. I’m still tucked up tight against Asher, which makes me feel guilty and uncomfortable. I push away gently and clear my throat when we stop.
As if someone throws a switch, everything floods back and rage wells up inside me. My hands curl into fists, my nails biting into the flesh of my palm. I open my mouth again to demand we go back for Gavin. I don’t care that Gavin told Asher to leave, or that he’ll meet us. We need to go back. But Asher looks down at me and the rage rushes out of me just as quickly as it came. He looks as miserable as I feel. Exhaustion is pouring off of him in waves.
Unsure of what to say, I close my mouth. Instead, I look down and notice the bleeding from the wound on his neck has slowed. And while it’s still trickling blood, he’s already lost a lot. His throat and shirt collar are covered in it. And so am I.
When he slides down off the horse, he stumbles a few steps before falling to his knees. I quickly slide down, ignoring the deep ache in my own joints and limp over to him, but he pushes me away.
“I’m fine,” he says, his voice rusty. “Just tired.”
I reach out to his bloody gash. “This needs attention. It’s bad.”
“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he says again, but when I go to get some water from the canteens
and some cloth to clean his wounds anyway, he doesn’t stop me.
Trying to locate Gavin’s pack, I search through the supplies quickly. I’m sure he has some kind of first-aid kit. He’s a hunter. Accidents happen. He’d need something to handle them. Of course, that makes me think about how he’s all alone out there with nothing to help him.
If he made it out at all. My breath hitches at the thought, and I press a hand to my mouth before I quickly push the thought away, refusing to even think about it. If I do, then I’ll fall apart, and I don’t have time for that right now.
I find the little white box with the red cross on it and open it. There are only a few packets of sterile bandages and some gauze left. Since it’s better than nothing, I sit next to Asher and pull out a few of the packets, pouring water on the gauze. I gently dab it on his neck, trying to get enough of the dirt and blood from the wound to see how bad it is.
He hisses, but doesn’t stop me. The wound is deep. Thank Mother it missed any major blood vessels or muscles, although it still has to hurt like crazy.
“I’m sorry I kicked you,” I say, not looking at him.
Asher rubs a hand over his chest. “Not gonna lie. It hurt like hell. But I get it. Let’s just forget it. Consider it water under the bridge.”
I nod. Using some gauze and the smaller adhesive bandages as a tape, I carefully bandage it. It’s not pretty, but it’s functional. Finished, I start to pour some more water onto the spare gauze to clean his throat, but he stops me.
“We may need those in the future. Here.” Asher takes off his shirt and hands it to me. “Use this.”
I wash the rest of his neck, trying to get the remainder of the dirt and blood off him. Probably not strictly necessary, but it gives me something to do and makes me feel useful.
After not being able to go back and help Gavin, I feel I need to do this one thing. My chest feels heavy when I think about him. Did he make it? Is he coming for us? Was he hurt? Does he need us? Does he need me?
Even though it’s completely clean, I continue to scrub at Asher’s neck. He grabs my wrist and stops me.
“Evie.” His voice is soft. He waits for me to look up and, when I do, I see something in his eyes. But I refuse to acknowledge it. Not now. Not ever.
His eyes search my face, but I tug my hand from his grasp and turn away, meticulously placing each bandage into the box one by one and making sure they’re placed perfectly before I stand and put the box back in the packs.
“You should rest,” I say. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. And we should wait for Gavin to catch up.” He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t stop myself from continuing. “It shouldn’t be too much longer before he does, but I’ll pull the stuff off Starshine. She should be able to rest, too.”
At first he doesn’t do anything, but I don’t turn around. I just continue to uselessly pull at the ropes. When I can’t get my fingers to cooperate enough to undo the knots, I move to the saddle straps and unbuckle them. I’m just about to try and lift the saddle when Asher’s hands fall on top of mine.
He doesn’t say anything. We just stand there, my hands on each side of the saddle, his over the top of mine. It’s almost suffocating, him being that close, but I need it. I want to lean against him and soak up the comfort I know he’d offer. And Mother knows I need all the comfort I can get right now.
But then he sighs, and the moment passes. “I’ve got this,” he says. “You shouldn’t be lifting anything this heavy.”
More exhausted than I care to admit, I nod, slipping my hands out from under his before ducking underneath his arms. I sit back down on the sandy ground a few meters away, as just those simple tasks have already exhausted me. With my whole achy body elated at being able to sit, I begin tracing designs with my finger in the dust.
I’m working so hard to keep from thinking of Gavin that I don’t notice anything until I feel a burning in my shoulder. I hiss and yank away, twisting to see what’s trying to take a chunk out of me now.
Asher sits behind me, holding a wet cloth in his hand. “You got clawed, too,” he says quietly.
Moving my gaze to my shoulder, I see long gash marks next to the old ragged, infected wound that never seems to get better. I nod, gesturing for him to continue before turning away again.
He carefully cleans all the gashes on my upper chest and arms, and even tries to tend to the wound in my shoulder. Then he washes the blood from my face. When he finishes, I hug my legs to my chest and rest my cheek on my knees, closing my eyes against the bright sunlight. My head pounds from the intensity of its glare.
Asher sits next to me, and then taps my leg. I glance over to see he has a pair of sunglasses in his hand. His glasses. I take them with a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
He shrugs. “You looked like you needed them.”
For the next several hours we wait, Asher occasionally getting up to rustle through the pack or check on Starshine before sitting down a distance away from me. We stay lost in our own thoughts until the sun starts to disappear behind the horizon.
A strange sound comes from the direction of the woods and I jump to my feet, straining to see what made it. However, all I see in every direction is more sand and dirt.
The sound comes again and Asher stands and mutters under his breath, “That’s not good.”
What did he say? I ask myself, but before I can ask aloud he’s kneeling in front of me.
“I’m sorry, Evie. I—I don’t think he’s coming.”
“We don’t know that yet. He’ll come. Any minute now.”
He glances over when the strange sound splits the air again. “We can’t wait any longer. That sound? It’s coyotes. And they’re going to be hunting soon. We need to get somewhere safe.”
The name makes my blood run cold. Gavin said something about them last night. If he was afraid of them, then I know I should be, too.
“What about Gavin?” I demand. “He needs somewhere safe, too. He’s going to be looking for us. We can’t just leave!”
“If he’s alive, he’ll survive. He’s a hunter. He knows how to survive out here way better than we do. He’ll be fine.”
He touches my leg when I don’t move. “He’d want you to go, Evie. He made me promise to keep you safe. He’s going to look for us someplace safe, right? He sent you away to protect you, not get eaten by coyotes because you’re too damn stubborn to listen to reason.”
I open my mouth to refuse again, but then shake my head, the logic of that finally entering my heat-addled brain. I don’t know what coyotes are, but that sound makes my stomach twist with fear, and Gavin hadn’t wanted to run into them either. He knows what they are and how to get away from them. I’m sure. And Asher’s right; Gavin would want me somewhere safe. That’s where he’ll look for me.
“No. Of course, you’re right.” I hold out my hand to him. “Let’s find somewhere safe.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Caution! Restricted territory. Nanite-affected area. Unauthorized entry banned.
—SIGN BOLTED TO OUTLAND CITY GATES
Evie
We don’t push Starshine as fast this time, but Asher isn’t exactly taking his time either. The sun is setting quickly and before long the entire area will be dark as pitch with nothing but the moon for our light. It’s not even a full moon. I hope he slows down once the sun sets—I worry we will push Starshine too fast and something we can’t see will cause her to trip and fall. I voice my concerns, but Asher brushes it off.
“The sooner we get to shelter, the safer we’ll be,” he tells me, not even glancing over his shoulder at me.
Left with no choice but to agree, I shut my mouth. I have to trust him to get me to where we need to go. Gavin obviously did. At least enough to send me away with him. And I trust Gavin.
As the sun disappears, so does the heat, and while the cool was a relief at first, now it has gone almost too far. Goose pimples prick my exposed flesh. I keep my arms wrapped around Asher’s chest and press myself close
r to him for warmth. It doesn’t help all that much.
Another howl echoes in the air. It’s a sad, lonely sound, but it chills me just the same. I realize that they’re getting louder and more frequent. They sound like they’re just behind us. I look around to see if the animals are close, but there’s nothing but darkness.
Asher pats my calf. “It’s all right. We’re a moving target and, unless they’re starving, they won’t come after us.”
“And if they are starving?”
He pauses, then says, “Then we’ll have to hope Starshine’s faster than they are.”
I swallow. I don’t like the sound of it, yet we don’t have much choice.
“How far until we find shelter?” There is a small quaver in my voice. I hope he doesn’t hear how afraid I am.
“Not much. A couple hours. Probably.”
I fight back a groan. Hours. Of riding a horse. In the dark. With carnivorous animals at our heels. Lovely.
I immediately feel guilty. Gavin’s probably having much worse problems. He doesn’t even have a horse, or any gear, or food. Medical care. My chest aches for him.
For what feels like forever, we ride. Starshine is moving fast, blowing wind into my eyes so I squeeze them shut. My whole body aches with the effort of staying on her back and holding Asher. If I weren’t gritting my teeth, they’d be chattering in the cold.
My shivering isn’t helping my fatigue. My head throbs with each of the horse’s footsteps. I suspect I’m dehydrated—my tongue keeps sticking to the roof of my mouth, and my lips are chapped and sore—but I don’t dare ask Asher to stop for a drink of water. Who knows how far back the coyotes are. I imagine them pursuing us with pointed teeth, foaming mouths, and red eyes, their bodies as tall, if not taller than, Starshine’s. I don’t know what came over me earlier, but it’s obviously not dependable. I can’t rely on those instincts to appear again and help us out if we need it. So, I cling. I shiver. And I pray we get wherever we’re going just a little faster and that Gavin isn’t too far behind us.
Revelations (The Elysium Chronicles) Page 8
