The Traveler

by Melissa Delport

  “Aaaaaargh!” I roar in pain as the full weight of Dex’s body is left in my own cramped hands. Jason grabs hold of Dex in the same instant that I can’t hold on any longer and the rope drops innocently to the ground at my feet.

  I stumble forward, stepping over Darren and then I stop, my heart failing at the sight of Dex, exhausted, but alive. He is sitting on his knees, his head drooping, water streaming down his face.

  “He’s okay,” Jason nods and I press my mouth tightly together to keep from crying.

  “Thank you,” I mouth at Jason and he moves out of the way, a sad smile playing about his lips.

  We stumble up the bank using the cable to guide us. Kate and I go first, and I keep stopping to turn around and check the others' progress. Dex is being supported by Jason on one side and Darren on the other, the two men practically carrying him to safety. Infinitely slowly, we climb out of the valley, finally reaching the road – the same one we were originally traveling on, only further along. Looking back I can make out where the road cleaved away and slightly further down where the van is still on its roof, barely visible after the enormous mudslide.

  I keep my eyes peeled for any sign of danger as we cross the road and find a small clearing in the surrounding trees on the opposite side. I have no idea what we are going to do next; we have almost no supplies and no car. With any luck the others will come back for us but I have my doubts. The Grahams would probably be too terrified and Tom and the National Guard have bigger things to worry about.

  We sit cross-legged on the floor catching our breaths. The rain stopped about an hour ago – shortly after we rescued Dex from the river. I have no idea where the water-user is, but I keep casting anxious glances up at the ridge where I first saw him. Dex is recovering quickly and as soon as he is able he stands, walking straight over to Jason and Darren.

  “You saved my life,” he says, speaking softly but sincerely and, to my surprise, he extends his right hand, “thank you.” Jason looks slightly bewildered and uncomfortable, but Darren grins, taking Dex’s hand and shaking it. Jason then follows suit.

  “We aren’t that bad, you know,” Darren quips, “I don’t think you’ve given humanity enough credit.” I hold my breath but Dex’s answer, when it comes, is beautiful and erases any trace of doubt I have left.

  “You know, Darren, I actually believe you’re right.” With a small smile he turns away from them and makes his way back to me an intent look on his face. Putting his arm around my waist he pulls me away from the others, leading us through the trees until we are out of sight and earshot.

  “You’re sure you’re okay?’ I ask as we come to a halt, but he doesn’t answer, pushing me back against an enormous tree trunk. I catch my breath at the heat in his gaze and then he is kissing me with fierce abandon, his body pressing almost painfully into mine. He buries his fingers in my hair and pulls my head backward, allowing him more access, and I moan deep in my throat, entwining my arms around his neck and pulling him even closer. In this moment nothing exists but him, and I run my hands underneath his shirt, raking my nails down his bare back, the pain in my hands forgotten.

  Despite my wanton abandon and my obvious need Dex doesn’t take it any further. Slowly his kisses become more gentle and I come to my senses, hanging limply from his neck, my whole body weak and shaken. He kisses my eyes, my nose, my chin and then runs his thumb across my lips, blazing a trail of heat wherever he touches. I sigh, leaning back and resting my head against the hard bark.

  “You could have died saving me in that valley,” he murmurs, burying his head in my neck.

  “But I didn’t,” I point out happily, my arms coming to rest around his waist. I can’t help but remember the Dex I loved, the man I had fallen for seven years ago. He’s still here, I think joyfully. As the memories flood my head, Dex goes still, his breathing even. Suddenly he lifts his head, meeting my gaze and his own is warm and loving.

  “Ask me,” his words are so unexpected that I tilt my head to one side.

  “How do you.... Oh...” the penny drops and I blush. Of course he knows what I am thinking, it’s all I can think about. Quintessence, I think to myself, is a pain in the ass.

  “Do you love me, Dex?” I ask for the second time today throwing caution to the wind and a blazing, satisfied smile spreads across his gorgeous face.

  “I do,” he answers simply.

  “Don’t you want to know if I feel the same?”

  “I already know you do,” he pulls me closer, resting his head against my forehead and refusing to let me look away. “You’re kind of screaming at me again.” He smiles smugly, “but it wouldn’t hurt to hear it from your mouth.” I don’t feel embarrassed or shy. I do love him. I always have. And so I tell him.

  Chapter 21

  We make our way back to the others sitting down a short distance away from them. As I take Dex’s hand I hear Kate’s gasp of surprise and Jason’s knowing chuckle, but I ignore them. Dex squeezes my hand reassuringly and I wince. My hands are agony, the rope burned deep abrasions across my palms and the initial stinging has given way to a deep throbbing. Reaching into my jacket pocket I pull out the bottle of Tylenol and I swallow a couple before tossing it across to the others.

  “Tell me about Venon,” I say and Dex glances around to see if anyone else is paying attention. Satisfied they won’t overhear us he takes a deep breath, “It’s much like earth. We’re only interested in planets that are similar to our own. We have trees, for example,” he gestures at the forest around us, “but of course they don’t look like these. And we have rivers, lakes, seas. Our water is completely colorless, crystal clear, and our beaches have red sand. Oh, and we have four moons,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.

  “Really?”

  “Really,” he smiles. “Three are white, like yours,” he points upward and I notice that night is falling, “the other is violet. And none of them are ever in the same phase.”

  “Is it prettier than earth?” I ask, and his answer is not what I expect.

  “Not really. Earth is beautiful. Well, parts of it are.”

  “But Venon is more peaceful?”

  “On Venon we don’t fight amongst each other,” he clarifies, “not like you earthlings do,” he grins. I drop my head remembering his accusations: Man destroys himself. “It’s because it’s not tolerated,” he adds meaningfully and I raise my eyes to meet his.

  “Venon is controlled by the monarchy. There is no choice; no free will. Our subjects do as they are told or they die. But law doesn’t need to be enforced very often – it’s accepted. It would never occur to our people to contest centuries of tradition.”

  “But surely there must be some dissent...”

  “No,” he shakes his head emphatically, “there’s not.”

  “Sheep,” I murmur, “they’re like sheep.” Dex sighs.

  “Yeah, in some ways they are.”

  “What about you,” I ask, “you’re part of the monarchy, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And Voka, too? And... your brother?” He stiffens only slightly but he doesn’t deny it. A sudden breeze rustles the leaves around us and I shiver.

  “Do you think they’re still around here?” I ask in an undertone and Dex shrugs.

  “I don’t know. But they wouldn’t hurt me, not intentionally.”

  “It didn’t seem that way to me,” I counter.

  “They didn’t know I was in the van.”

  “True. So, do you think if they turn up you can reason with them... send them away?”

  “Yes.” And with that I have to be content.

  I’m starving, and a deep grumbling in my belly reminds me that I haven’t eaten in two days. I fetch one of the satchels and pull out a packet of crackers, most of which are broken. I shake some out in my hand and offer the packet to Dex. He’s looking much stronger – his color is back to normal and his hands are steady as he brushes the crumbs off them and then takes my own again.

  “Let me
see,” his voice is soft and tender, and he examines my hands, wincing at the dried blood caking around the cuts. “I wish I could heal you,” he murmurs.

  “It’s a pain being human,” I joke, trying to gloss over how affected I am by his touch, “but healing is beyond even your broad scope of super skills.” He doesn’t say anything but a small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. We rest a short while longer and then make our way over to sit with the others.

  “Do you think they’ll come back for us?” Kate asks and I meet Darren’s eye. He gives me a warning look and I paste a reassuring smile on my face.

  “I’m sure they will, but it might take a while – they’ll have to wait for the water to subside so they can make it through the valley. They’ll probably wait until morning.”

  “Oh yeah, of course,” she replies brightly as if this hadn’t occurred to her. Darren gives me a grateful nod.

  It turns out I was wrong in assuming the others would be long gone. Desperately in need of sleep, I am just settling down on the fallen leaves, trying to ignore the disgusting stench of dirty river water emanating from my clothes, when we hear a car rumbling along the road and we race toward the sound. The Blue Toyota is a welcome, if unexpected, sight. The Grahams debark, looking apprehensive.

  “You came back!” I exclaim and Dennis nods.

  “We saw signs of trouble ahead and Tom said we should head back and find you while they check it out. They said we should wait until they come back for us once they have the all clear.” Dennis is definitely more confident now that the U.S Military is involved in our escape.

  “Well, thank you,” I smile gratefully.

  “Where’s your van?” Byron interrupts, scanning the road. Sally wrinkles her nose as she takes in our grimy condition.

  “We had a bit of an accident,” I explain, not wanting to scare them. If there is trouble ahead and trouble behind, I don’t really know whether we should stay or go. Seeing Kate wilting at Darren’s side, I know that we need to rest. Besides, we won’t all fit in the Toyota. We leave the car on the street so that the National Guard will see it on their return and head back to the clearing.

  Between the eight of us, it doesn’t take long to finish what little food and water I had packed in the first backpack. Scrounging around in the other, I find a few clean T-shirts and hand them around to Darren, Jason, Kate and Dex. We are all filthy, covered in mud and soaked through. As tired as I am, I need to try and clean up before I settle down again. Taking a black vest out for myself, I turn to Kate.

  “I’m going to try and find somewhere to clean up – you want to come?” I ask, and she nods gratefully. Dex and Darren get to their feet and I shake my head fondly as they follow us through the trees, keeping their distance but not letting us get too far ahead in the dark. We haven’t gone too far when I hear the sound of running water. Following the noise, we come across a small stream which is obviously a tributary of the river below.

  Darren and Dex saunter off through the trees, out of sight, and all we can hear is the low murmur of their voices.

  “I wonder what they’re talking about,” Kate murmurs as we strip off our filthy clothing, not in the least bit embarrassed. Nothing like Armageddon to strip away one’s modesty.

  “I have no idea,” I reply.

  We submerge our clothes first and I rinse my black sweatpants until no trace of mud remains. Despite my best efforts I cannot get the stench out of Megan’s “Keep Calm” T-shirt so I toss it aside.

  “I’d kill for some Tide right about now,” I fret as I wring out the sweatpants.

  “And shampoo,” Kate moans, hanging her own “clean” washing over a bush. The night air is chilly and the water is cool, but I stay in as long as I can bear it. My hands are agony as I rub at my grimy body, washing away all the dirt and caked mud. I dunk my head over and over, massaging my scalp with my fingertips and making sure not a speck of dirt remains. It’s no substitute for a hot bath and a bar of soap but at least I feel clean.

  We can still hear the faint sound of Dex and Darren’s continued conversation but they are too far away to make out what they are saying.

  “I still can’t believe this is happening,” Kate sighs from the riverbank where she is perched on a rock, wearing her clean shirt and her damp jeans. She couldn’t brave the cold any longer and had climbed out a few minutes before.

  “I know. It’s hard to process,” I agree, cupping water in my hands and washing my face.

  “Do you think New York has been destroyed?” she continues in a small voice and I nod sadly. We have to stop trying to protect Kate from the truth – she needs to learn how to cope with everything that is happening. “I guess my gallery is probably gone too,” she sighs.

  “I’m sorry,” I commiserate, “your paintings were really beautiful.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Why painting?” I ask curiously. “Is it something you always saw yourself doing?”

  “My mother was a painter. She became quite well-known, posthumously.”

  “She died?” My face falls as Kate nods and I remember back at the Grahams' house when everyone was frantically trying to get hold of their loved ones that Kate had not tried to get in touch with anybody.

  “When I was four - cancer. My dad left before I was born; I’ve never met him.” I stay silent and she eventually continues, “I stayed with my maternal grandmother until I turned sixteen and then I ran away – I waitressed my way through art school. She didn’t really understand me, my grandmother – she wanted me to study law and she was very forceful about it. All I wanted to do was paint.”

  “I’m sure she only wanted what was best for you.” I emerge from the water and dry myself off with my damp sweatpants before donning them. The fabric clings uncomfortably to my legs but it’s a small price to pay for feeling clean and not smelling of dirty river water.

  “Maybe,” she sounds dubious. “Anyway she sold all my mother's paintings to a private collector. She wouldn’t even let me keep one. His house burnt down a few months later and they were all destroyed.” Her voice breaks and I quickly pull on the black vest and come to sit beside her on the rocks. She wipes a tear from her eye and shakes her head. “I’m fairly sure it was an insurance con,” she adds woefully.

  “I’m so sorry,” I put my arm around her shoulders and she smiles tearfully up at me.

  “My first few pieces were replicas of her paintings,” she lisps. “That was before I really found my own style. But she’s always been my inspiration.”

  “She would be very proud of you,” I encourage, “I wasn’t lying when I said your stuff was good back at your studio. It really is excellent.”

  “I was hoping that the interview you were broadcasting would be brought to my grandmother’s attention,” she confesses suddenly. “That she would realize that she was wrong.”

  “She probably knows already – your exhibit was so successful I’m sure someone must have mentioned it to her already.

  “It doesn’t really matter,” she wipes another tear from her eye. “I’ll never know.”

  “Don’t say that, Kate. It’s not over yet. There’s still hope for us.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she agrees, “but not for her. She lived in New York.”

  We are silent for a few moments and then she sniffs loudly and changes the subject, “So... you and Dex, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I smile shyly.

  “You knew him before?” I raise my eyebrow at the question. “I heard Jason talking,” she explains.

  “I did, seven years ago. I was seventeen.”

  “Scandalous,” she teases. “What was he like, then?”

  “Exactly the same as he is now.”

  “He scares me a little but he seems nice,” she prompts and I nod.

  “He is nice.”

  “Do you think he’ll be able to save us?”

  “I think,” I meet her questioning gaze, “that he will do everything in his power to keep us safe. He won’t let anythin
g happen to us if he can help it, he’ll die first.”

  Kate fetches her still-wet T-shirt and hangs it over her arm as we retrace our steps, following the sounds of the voices. Jason has joined Dex and Darren, and Kate and I wait while the three of them head for the river to wash up. I glance up at the quarter moon through the trees, remembering what Dex told me about Venon’s four moons. The men are far quicker than we were and soon enough they are back. Dex’s T-shirt is jade green and it suits him. It certainly fits him well, Byron being so tall. We make our way back to the clearing and everyone settles down for the night. The Grahams are all asleep, except Dennis, who keeps a wary vigil over his family. He leaps to his feet, his gun drawn, as we approach but then sits back down when he sees that it’s only us. More secure now that we are here, he settles back against a tree trunk, closing his eyes.

  “Right, well I’ll see you all in the morning,” Jason quips and then he lies down on his back on the forest floor, his arms under his head. Darren fetches the satchel with what remains of the clothing and offers it to Kate as a makeshift pillow. She sinks beside him gratefully, curling into a ball on her side and within minutes, her eyes close. Darren lies behind her, his arm over her side.

  “Let’s sleep over here,” Dex indicates the far side of the clearing. I follow him and he sits down, mirroring Dennis’s pose as he leans back against a tree trunk. He pats his legs and I curl up on the fallen leaves beside him, placing my head on his lap, determined to finally get some much-needed rest. I can feel him playing with my hair and slowly, I fall asleep.