The Traveler

by Melissa Delport

  I clap my hand to my head, stars bursting in my vision as Amarox bursts through the swing doors.

  “What is it?” he yells, his hands raised, ready for battle. I hop on one leg, my eyes watering with pain. “Rachel!” he rushes to my side, still scanning the small kitchen for any possible threat.

  “A rat,” I gasp, the pain beginning to subside. I’m going to have one hell of a bump, I think, rubbing my scalp. “It was a rat.”

  “A rat?” Amarox’s concern vanishes and his lips pull up at the corners as he tries to contain his smile.

  “Yes, a rat,” I retort, “a revolting, creepy, filthy rat!” His eyes sparkle with amusement and then he chuckles, pursing his lips to keep from laughing his handsome head off.

  “Well,” he sniffs, straightening the collar of his black tunic. “If your life is in mortal peril again, be sure to holler. I’ll set the fury of a thousand storms on that vermin.” He grins and saunters back through the swing doors.

  I drop my hand from my head, exhaling a deep breath. Amarox doesn’t seem to read my mind quite as easily as Dex, or he couldn’t be as bothered, thank God. I step back toward the now sizzling pan and peer underneath the counter.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper. The young blonde waitress curled beneath the counter nods her head. She looks petrified and her make-up is smudged beneath her eyes. She’s just a teenager. “Are there any more of you?” I ask.

  “I don’t know where everybody is,” she whimpers and I bite my lip. How long has she been down there? Since the war started or only since we arrived?

  “Stay where you are,” I instruct. “We’ll be gone first thing in the morning. As soon as we leave you get out of here, do you hear me? You make your way to the mountains, there are plenty around here. Take as many supplies as you can carry and get as far from civilization as you can. Do not go anywhere near Yancey County.” We are over forty miles away from the small mountain county, so it is unlikely she would go there anyway, but I do not want to take any chances. I already sent my best friend to Yancey County I cannot risk any more people going anywhere near the very place that Zonax is heading to.

  I read the young girl's name-tag.

  “Brittany,” I smile reassuringly at her, “you're going to be fine. Just stay here until morning.”

  “He’s one of them,” her eyes are haunted.

  “Yes,” I nod, and she narrows her eyes at me suspiciously. “It’s a long story but trust me, there’s hope. Okay?” She nods, half-heartedly. “There’s hope,” I repeat, standing up and turning my attention to the grill.

  I make eight burgers and pile six of them onto a tray. The other two I hand to Brittany, along with a jug of water that I found in the refrigerator. I grab two bottles of ginger beer and load them onto the tray beside the burgers and then I head back out into the diner. Amarox is sitting in the same seat as before, staring thoughtfully out of the window.

  “That’ll be fifteen dollars,” I tease, setting the tray down in front of him and flopping into my own seat.

  We eat in silence. I finish off two burgers and Amarox has three. I eye the last one, wondering if I can force it down. I am loathe to see it go to waste.

  “Maybe she’d like it,” Amarox’s low voice cuts through the silence and I raise my brow innocently.

  “Who?” I feign ignorance, but my heart is thumping in my chest.

  “The girl in the kitchen,” he replies seriously, his hypnotic green eyes boring into my own.

  “I don’t know what you’re...”

  “Save it.” He wipes his mouth with a napkin and then tosses it onto the table as he gets wearily to his feet.

  “Please,” I stand abruptly, knocking over my ginger beer as I grab his sleeve. “She’s not a threat to you.” Amarox gazes down at me, his face giving away nothing. “Please,” I echo, remembering how I pleaded with Dex to spare the others back in Central Park.

  “I’m not my brother,” Amarox hisses and it hits home that there is nothing wrong with his control over quintessence. If anything, it’s stronger even than Dex’s.

  “I know,” I hasten to appease him. “I know that. It’s just that she hasn’t done anything wrong. She’s just a young girl. Please, don’t hurt her.” I hold my breath as he narrows his eyes, frowning down at me as if I’ve completely lost my mind.

  “Who said I was going to hurt her, Rachel?” He yanks his arm from my hands and turns his back on me, making his way out of the diner.

  “Amarox!” I call, as I hasten after him. I push open the doors and open my mouth to call again, but it is as if everything moves in slow motion. I see a small group of men round the front of one of the closest rigs, each armed with a shotgun. I hear Amarox’s angry snarl as he turns to face them and I scream, warning them not to fire. Instead, two men turn their guns on me, keeping me in their line of fire. Oh God! They must have been watching this whole time. They would have seen me arrive with Amarox, seen us eating together. They must think I’m one of them – one of the invaders. Without hesitation, the frontrunner, a burly man with a baseball cap pulled over his curls fires at Amarox. He dives aside and the bullet impacts his leg, a huge chunk of flesh being torn away. I dive back into the diner to avoid being shot myself and, as I do, I hear the first crack of lightning. I lie flat on the floor, the static in the air making the hair on my arms stand on end.

  “No!” I screech as one loud crack follows another. I can hear the screaming above the storm, bloodcurdling cries for help, and I press my hands against my ears to block them out. There is nothing I can do for these foolish men – Amarox will not be reasoned with – they made sure of that.

  It is all over in a few minutes. The storm dissipates as quickly as it formed and there is no sound at all from outside. I lift myself gingerly from the floor and peek over the table beside me. I cannot see him, but before I even register where he might be, the glass doors are shoved open, so hard that the glass shatters. Amarox’s eyes are still glowing and his face has morphed into an unadulterated mask of rage. He strides past me and, with a jolt of pure, unadulterated panic, I realize where he is going.

  “No!” I scream in earnest, racing after him. I grab his tunic and he shrugs me off, still heading for the swing door. As he makes his way around the counter I lunge for him again, grabbing a fistful of his hair and he whirls on me, his eyes boring into mine furiously. There is no sign of the amiable, reasonable man of earlier, only vengeance and blind rage. He raises his hand and I close my eyes knowing this is going to hurt. As his hand makes contact with my cheek I am flung across the counter, toppling over it and landing in a heap on the other side. Holy hell that hurt! I quickly scramble to my feet, my adrenalin pumping hard and fast through my veins. I launch myself back across the counter as Amarox reaches for the swing door and I throw myself in his way. His eyes are still glowing, but they do not seem as bright as before. I think he may be calming down.

  “Get out of my way, Rachel,” he orders, at least acknowledging who I am, but I stand my ground.

  “No,” I bite out the words, “Amarox, calm down. The men outside, they’ve been punished. They were wrong to attack you like that but you’ve dealt with them. The girl in there – she hasn’t done anything wrong,” I put my hand against his chest, subconsciously trying to restrain him.

  “I said get out of the way,” he sneers, my words having no impact. I know he must feel something by now, some sense of sanity, or he would simply have hit me again.

  I don’t know what makes me do it – desperation, hope, or just pure madness, but I reach up and kiss him. At first he doesn’t react, and I can feel the hard, unyielding rigidity of his shoulders under my fingertips. Slowly they relax under my hands and, while he doesn’t exactly kiss me back, he stops resisting. Only when I am sure that he is in control of his emotions do I step away, breaking contact and opening my eyes. His own green eyes are perfectly clear, all traces of the glow gone. I touch my lips with my hand, feeling shy and awkward. Amarox stares at me pensively, but h
e makes no move toward the swing door behind which the young girl is hiding.

  “I... I’m sorry,” I stutter, “I just didn’t know how to calm you down and I thought...” I don’t finish the sentence, I am not even sure what it is I’m trying to say. Amarox’s gaze falls on my bruised cheek. He lifts his hand and I flinch, but he just brushes a strand of blonde hair out of my face.

  “We should get some rest,” he says softly, and then he turns on his heel and walks out of the diner without looking back.

  The close confines of the Ford Ranger make it hard for me to get settled. I am all too aware of Amarox’s larger than life presence beside me, and I am mortified about the kiss. Knowing that he can read my thoughts, I try not to think about it, but as always, the very thing that you try not to think of is the one thing that dominates. Eventually, thankfully, my exhaustion wins out. Just as I am finally drifting off to sleep, I recall his injury.

  “Is your leg okay?” I ask sleepily.

  “It's fine, it’s healed already,” he replies and then, sounding uncomfortable, “how is your face?”

  “Fine,” I mumble, pulling my jacket around me. Something hard bumps against my side and I remember the gun, the one I had taken from the youth in the convenience store. Knowing I have a weapon, no matter how insignificant, is comforting, and finally I close my eyes and let sleep take me.

  Chapter 31

  In the morning I wake up with a sore neck and an even more painful face. Feeling around to assess the damage I give a groan. My cheek is obviously badly bruised and I’m pretty sure I have a black eye. My top lip is also split. The blood has dried, and I wonder why I didn’t notice it last night, then I remember and I give another moan. I can’t believe I kissed Amarox.

  Thinking of the Venite I glance across at the driver’s seat, but Amarox is gone. I get out of the Ranger, scanning the parking area, but there is no sign of him. In the light of day, the truck-stop holds even less appeal than it did last night. Everything is run down and in need of maintenance, and the administration building, which incorporates the diner, is in serious need of a paint job. Studiously avoiding the charred remains of a few of the men who attacked Amarox last night, I make my way around the administration building toward the diner.

  As I am pushing open the shattered glass doors it suddenly occurs to me that Amarox might have finished what he started last night, and I sprint through the small restaurant racing for the swing doors. What if he came back and hurt the young waitress while I was sleeping. Surely he wouldn’t... Oh God, he just might. I have no idea what type of person Amarox really is. I watched him kill seven men last night. What’s one more weak human girl?

  With all these thoughts swirling in my head I burst through the swing doors expecting the worst. Instead, I find the handsome Venite leaning casually against the refrigerator while Brittany fries a mountain of scrambled eggs on the grill. At my abrupt entrance they both turn to look at me.

  “Would you like some breakfast?” Brittany smiles shyly. “There are plenty of eggs and I’m making toast.” I make a conscious effort to shut my mouth which has dropped open in surprise.

  “Yes, please,” I make light of a bad situation and step further into the room. Amarox is hiding a smug smile – obviously he knows exactly what I was thinking.

  I watch as Brittany serves up three generous helpings and then I help her carry the three plates through to the diner. I watch her closely, searching for any signs of distress. Outwardly she seems calm enough, but she tugs constantly at her grease-spattered apron and I realize she is nervous, though she’s doing a good job at hiding it. Although not really, I remind myself, remembering quintessence.

  To Amarox’s credit he is perfectly polite as we eat our full, even thanking Brittany when he is finished. She takes the plates back to the kitchen and I round on him.

  “What are you doing?” I hiss. Amarox regards me steadily, his scrutiny making me blush. “We shouldn’t be here,” I continue when he doesn’t answer, “that girl is terrified. We should go; we need to get to the mountains today.”

  “Rachel,” he begins calmly, his long fingers toying idly with a napkin, “I think I need to remind you exactly who is in control here. As I said before – I am not my brother.” The words are spoken softly but I can hear the authority in his tone. “Dexon may bend to your every whim, but I am impervious to your charms. To me you are just another human, much like that girl in there,” he jerks his head at the swing doors. “Do not presume to tell me what to do. It would not be in your best interest.” His threat hangs in the air between us, just as Brittany returns with three glasses of orange juice.

  “I thought you might be thirsty...” she glances between the two of us, sensing the abrupt change in atmosphere.

  “Thank you,” I smile at her. “Brittany, remember what I told you? About getting to the mountains?” She nods emphatically. “Do you have any means of transportation?”

  “My car’s around back.”

  “Okay, you need to leave, now. Get your stuff together and hit the road. Avoid the main highways. Can you do that?” She nods again, looking fearful. “Good luck,” I add as she scurries back toward the kitchen. Amarox drains his orange juice and sets the glass down on the table. He is distant and cool and any progress that I have made up until now has been undone.

  “Let’s go,” he snaps, and I follow him meekly to the car, not daring to object.

  “I’m sorry,” I say after about half an hour of driving in silence. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. And I shouldn’t have assumed the worst when I realized you were with Brittany.”

  “Apology accepted,” he replies darkly.

  “Did you tell her not to be afraid?”

  “You’re asking if I controlled her mind?” he chuckles, “not that I would be bothered, but no, Rachel, I didn’t. I didn’t need to.”

  “She was scared,” I point out.

  “Yes, but she was coping. And as soon as it became clear that I meant her no harm she was fine. Did it ever occur to you that you frightened her far more than I did – coming in there with all your dramatics and then ordering her to leave as though her life depended on it?”

  “Didn’t it?” I counter, “I mean, what exactly is it that you’re doing? What will you do when you come face to face with your father? Dex has chosen a side – he’s prepared to die for us. Which side are you on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No, I don’t. Does that really surprise you? I believe in this invasion; I believe in Venon’s cause. And yet... there’s something about you humans that gets under my skin. Kate tells me you and the others risked your lives to save Dexon.”

  “So?”

  “After he killed your friends,” he adds pointedly.

  “He didn’t mean to.”

  “Oh yes he did.” His confidence threatens to shatter my faith.

  “Well, that was before. Before he realized.”

  “Realized what?”

  “That humanity is worth saving! That we have qualities worth fighting for.”

  “Like?”

  “Like compassion and forgiveness and hope. And love,” I add meaningfully.

  “So what are you hoping that I’ll realize? That, like my brother, I will see the best in people?”

  “I think you already have,” I say in a small voice.

  “I’m not so sure,” he remarks drily, “from what I could gather, Kate seemed to be imitating someone else.” Obviously Kate hadn’t fooled Amarox as well as she thought. “So, do you think she was right,” he continues cruelly, “that if you got one Venon prince to fall in love with you, maybe you could get another to do the same?”

  “I would never do that!” I gasp, imagining what he must think. “Truly, Amarox,” I turn to face him, “I didn’t kiss you for any other reason than to calm you down. There was no hidden agenda, I swear!”

  “You’re telling the truth,” he concedes after a pregnant pause.

/>   “Yes,” I sigh, slumping back in my seat.

  “I don’t know where I stand,” he admits eventually, “I don’t want to see my brother hurt. I don’t really want to see you hurt, either. Things have gotten a lot more complicated.”

  “You think?” I smile sadly.

  We abandon the Ford Ranger along a small mountain road and I shoulder my backpack as we prepare our hike through the mountains. I finger the gun in my pocket as we walk.

  “Are you planning on using that?” Amarox breaks the silence.

  “Only if I have to.” I force a confidence I don’t feel and he smiles indulgently.

  We have a long way to go and I will myself to put one foot in front of the other, over and over as we slowly cover the distance to Yancey County step by exhausting step.

  Amarox leads the way, helping me when the need arises. Like Dex, he is incredibly strong and shows endless stamina. By the time dusk approaches we only have a few miles to go but I am fading fast. After the third time I stumble over the rocky terrain, Amarox pulls me up.

  “We’ll rest here tonight,” he remarks.

  “No we need to keep going, we have to find the others.” He chuckles, sounding so much like Dex that it makes my heart hurt.

  “We won’t find anyone in the dark, Rachel. You need to get your strength up – we’ll hike the final leg in the morning.” His tone is final and I am too tired to argue any further. He drops my backpack to the floor – he had relieved me of it shortly after we started our journey. Fishing out the bread rolls and cold meats we had taken from the diner, he hands me a bottle of water and then he slaps a few slices of meat on a roll and passes that over too. I wolf it down, drain the entire bottle of water and then lie back on the hard ground, staring up at the sky. Amarox does the same, settling down a short distance away from me.