“You aren’t looking, are you?”
“No, but you better hurry. I’m not good at being patient. Plus, it makes me nervous when I can’t see you.”
Another couple of snaps, then something slides on the ground.
I wait, the sound of my pulse whooshing in my ears.
A cool wind kisses my cheeks, but I’m warm next to the popping inferno.
Soft strumming flows through the air, and my heart stutters.
“Don’t peek. It’s not time yet.”
The strings of a guitar start the beginning of Coldplay’s “Every Teardrop is a Waterfall”.
I revel in the rich, deep chords. The beauty of the melody brings pressure behind my eyes.
Two years ago, I lost the sound of music, and this is one of the sweetest melodies I’ve ever heard. It takes me back to the days when all I had to worry about was turning in High School essays, and if I could find a decent college.
Things get even better when a rich, warm tenor begins singing the lyrics.
Unable to keep my eyes closed any longer, I stare in amazement. His voice is like smooth ribbons of velvet twisting their way around my skin, a silky vibrato like the vocalist Roy Khan. He sounds like a professional.
Hell, what if he was a singer? You still don’t have a clue what he did before the alien robot party came to town.
He keeps his eyes shut. In this moment, with this gift, I want to wrap his face in my hands and hold him close, the fury of him dropping me in a river gone in a flash. My heart beats for him, and I can’t imagine anywhere else I’d rather be.
When he sees me watching, his fingers slip. There’s uncertainty on his face, as if he might be embarrassed, but I nod my head, hoping he doesn’t stop. The beginning of a smile stretches my face from cheek to cheek. Full strength, I turn it on him.
Relaxing his shoulders, he tips his head back and releases that gorgeous voice into the sky.
A thrill rushes through my blood, and an itch to let the music flow through my body causes me to sway, just like the moss hanging in the trees.
He’s reaching the point of the song that needs percussion, so I grab a spoon and begin drumming a rock. The beat keeps time with the guitar’s notes.
“Yes.” I let out a loud giggle.
While his voice belts out the lyrics, a tear of happiness leaks from the corner of my eye. This is the best present he could’ve ever given, even better than the clothes.
I know the words and join in; balancing his tenor with my soprano. The song flies through the night, echoing into the trees.
Sitting on my stone seat, I flick the spoon away and sway to the beat. The tune and his voice wash away worries and fill my soul with happiness.
Our voices mingling under the stars, next to the campfire, is a moment that’ll never be more perfect than right now. For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever forget his gift.
Halfway through the song, I leap to my feet.
My arms reach toward the sky, and I swing my hips in time to Jareth’s words. Music has always been my outlet, and I don’t care if I look like an idiot.
Kodiak jumps and wraps his paws around my hips.
The whiskers of his long muzzle twitch, and his body shakes with excitement.
I grab his feet and sway back and forth, a girl and her dog, surrounded by joy and friendship. “Yeah, there ya go, boy.”
His back legs try to keep up with the dance. Finally tiring, he hops down but still follows me on all fours.
Sparky sits on the log, and I waltz to him, guilt at leaving him out forcing me to try and include him in the group activity.
My hand reaches to his, and he takes it after a moment of hesitation. “I do not understand the importance—”
“Stop ruining the music and shut your trap.” I place one of his hands on my shoulder, and the other around my waist. To his credit, he tries, but his movements are stiff and awkward.
When I twirl under his arms, and crash into his chest, I give up, afraid I’ll tear something—or he’ll break something—me for instance.
Moving in front of Jareth, I continue to flow with the music. Our gazes lock together. Smoke drifts toward his head and slides past his ears on its meandering track through the air.
The song nears its end.
I take a chance and trail a line on his jaw. The touch of stiff bristles against my skin is pleasant.
He twists his head and tries to nibble the finger before I pull it away.
“Uh uh.”
Smiling, he stands with the guitar strapped across his chest, still strumming and singing.
Together, Jareth and I release the words into the night. I bounce a line his way, and he tosses the next one back to me.
I crook my finger, motioning him to follow, then turn to dance a circle around the fire.
He pursues, the guitar swinging with each step.
When the music stops, so does my body.
Trying to catch my breath, I spread my arms wide. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.”
His face glows at my compliment. He removes the guitar and sets it on the ground. Tilting his head, he moves in front of me, the fire at my back.
He whisper-sings the last three lines and reaches for my shoulders.
I don’t resist, because I’m about to burst from joy.
Strong arms twine around my waist and clasp at the small of my back. He pulls me close and rests his chin on the top of my head.
My hands snake around his stomach, fingers pressed into the flannel, feeling the heat through the material.
I turn my cheek and place it on his chest. The top of my head comes to his torso, fitting into the indention in the middle, where his sternum meets his ribs. He wraps me in protection and happiness.
“I wish it could be like this every night, Red.” His voice is gruff.
“Me, too,” I whisper.
“When you get to Florida, let me be part of your family, too.” He tips my chin so I can’t look away. “I want to be the first person you see when you wake, the last person you see when you sleep, and the only person you see in your dreams. We’re meant to be together. You’re the lost half of my soul.”
His words are a shock, and I worry my lip. I can’t deny what he’s saying but letting him know how much I need him—want him—leaves my heart open, and I can’t risk it, not yet.
Survive and find Sissy.
“I don’t—”
“Shh.” His body stiffens, and he pushes me away to look to the sky.
The insects and wildlife in the forest stop their serenade with a deafening hush.
My voice has a tremor, and I reach for my pistol before remembering it’s in the tent to dry. “What is it?” Head tipping, I try to get a better view of the black sky.
Instead of answering, he sprints to the fire and shovels dirt onto the burning inferno.
“Help me, Tilly. We don’t have much time.” He looks to Sparky. “Get your butt over here.” He points to the firepit. “Spread those boulders out and take the tent down. Quick.”
Throwing myself beside him, I cup my own hands and begin scooping. The fear spurs me to move like addicts trying to hide their stash when a cop’s near. “What is it? A sphere?”
He shifts his face in my direction before refocusing on the urgent task. His tone is flat. “Worse, I’m afraid.”
Oh God. “What could be worse?”
I haul dirt faster. My heart races in my chest as if seeking for an escape route.
The noise of Sparky throwing the boulders from our campsite crashes through the forest.
Kodiak, sensing the panic, runs to my side. His nose points skyward A loud snarl issues from deep in his throat.
To my relief, the blaze dies. In total darkness, I sit, unsure what to do next.
“Follow me.” Jareth, not satisfied, pulls me to a standing position and shackles my hand in his. “We need to get away from here.” He scans the sky.
“Kodiak, come here,
boy.” The dog follows, mouth twisted in a growl, canine teeth showing.
Sparky is ahead, clearing some of the brush out of the way.
I barely raise my voice above a whisper. “What is it, Jareth? What’s worse than spheres?” If there’s something worse than the pods and robots, I’m not so sure I want to know, and learning he has this information terrifies me even more. What did he survive?
“Shh.” He pushes me into the trunk of a tree.
The worry emanating from his posture causes a protest to die in my throat.
A low rumble, so deep it causes my teeth to vibrate and my bones to shake, makes the ground tremble underfoot.
Kodiak barks, the noise loud and rebounding in the forest.
“Shut up, boy.”
He doesn’t listen to me.
Jareth wraps his entire body around mine, squeezing me into the tree until I can’t take a deep breath. “It’s okay. They won’t hurt him. He’s an animal. They don’t care about wildlife, just humans.”
“Now you decide to share information?” His words cause a fresh burst of panic to spike through my heart.
I’m about to ask him to elaborate on his answer when the stars above black out. A triangular shape of nothingness sits above the tops of the trees, over my head.
Sparky moves to Kodiak and tips his helmet with a slight angle, as if he’s searching the sky.
Confusion jumbles my thoughts. What’s happening?
The trees begin to shake , and branches and limbs bend as if a tidal wave dumps from above.
Sharp pieces of bark and twigs rain down, and I try to move my hands for protection.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Jareth shifts his weight to one foot, then pulls my head into his chest, covering the top with his chin, and presses into me again.
Debris rains down, pelting my shoulders and the ground at my feet.
My dog twists in the air, yipping, and barking like a wild thing.
“We need to get Kodiak. He’s going to get hurt.”
“You’re not moving.” He grips me around the shoulders, keeping a firm hold. “I told you, he’ll be fine.”
“What’s up—” The question dies in my mouth.
Bright white light floods down, blinding with its intensity. The forest lights up like it’s noon, instead of pitch-black night.
When my eyes adjust after a couple of seconds, I see the source of the illumination.
A long ship, shaped like an isosceles triangle, hangs in the air. The angled tip leads its mass over the woods. The pressure, or whatever comes out of it, is causing the movement in the trees.
Terror rips through me, and my legs weaken. It’s going to see the group down here and catch each of us—or worse—kill us.
I’m not gonna make it to Florida.
Jareth turns his head to where Sparky stands. “Can you issue directive 021?”
His words slam into my brain like a brick wall smacking me face first. “What?”
The robot’s head tips up, branches and leaves still falling next to him.
The barks and snarls coming from Kodiak compete with the whipping of the wind above, making an eerie combination.
“Well, can you?” Jareth’s voice is urgent. “Yes or no?”
“Yes. I can.”
Jareth throws a hand up in frustration. “Well, get to it, damn it.”
Even with fear pressing down on me, I can’t help but wonder what they’re talking about. “What’s directive 02—whatever?”
Ignoring me, he scans the sky again, curls falling from his face.
The light beaming is intense, and I can see every surface of his face, every lash on his eyelids, every small line and crevice on his skin.
Grabbing his jacket lapels, I raise my voice over the barking and wind. “Jareth, what does that number mean?”
My grip on his chest doesn’t relent and forces him to acknowledge my question. “It’s a program that talks to the ships, redirects them on a different course.”
His answer makes my stomach flip, and nausea and acid churn and try to creep up my throat. What has he not told me? Fear in my head wars with anger in my heart, and there’s a rancid taste on my tongue—the taste of betrayal, the taste of pain. “How the fuck do you know all of this?” My fingers change from a demanding grasp to a clinging hold, using his jacket like a lifeline, pleading for a logical answer.
“I don’t think this is the place or time right now, Red.” He directs his next comment to Sparky, who raises a hand to the sky. “Well? What’s the holdup?”
“There is an extra command prompt I have not encountered before, but I am breaking through the code as we speak.”
To my utter relief, the bright light flickers off and the enormous ship pulls away. Just like that, it’s quiet, except for Kodiak’s snarls. Even those die when he realizes there’s nothing to bark at any longer. The sound of twigs and leaves hitting branches on the way down disturbs the sudden silence.
The erratic pattern of my heart slows, and I shove at Jareth’s chest, needing air.
He steps away.
“What the fuck was all of that?” My hand points to Sparky and then the sky. “How’d you know he could talk to the ship? How’d you even have knowledge of the ship before seeing it?”
He grimaces. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time.” Arms crossed, I stare in defiance. “I’m not leaving this spot until you spill your guts.”
No normal survivor would be able to issue protocols or commands to make a giant spaceship disappear. That sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind of Jareth working with some sort of resistance group in the past flares again. Why didn’t he tell me?
A knot forms at his jaw and skull, and his lips compress into a thin line.
“Drop it, okay?” He pushes his forehead into mine and breathes out. “I can’t talk about that part of my life. It was”—he pulls his head back to look at me—“it was bad. I lost myself, and everything I ever believed in.”
The frustration from his determination to keep his life hidden is maddening. “What could be worse than losing your wife and daughter, then trying to kill yourself?”
Coldness creeps into his face, hardening his eyes. “I said to drop it.”
A fury rises in me, from my chest to my head, and forces my anger to spill over.
My finger jabs into his chest. “So, let me get this straight. You can talk to me about wanting to blow your head off, but not about how you were involved in some kind of resistance?” My lip curls. “Coward.” The word spills out into the darkened forest, whispering amongst the foliage and trees.
His hand wraps around my finger poking into his chest. Forcing it away, his entire body shoves me against the tree trunk.
The sharp edges of bark press into my shoulders. I try to squirm away, but his hands have caught my upper arms, and he’s not budging.
His fingers dig into my flesh. It’s as if he’s struggling to control a wave of rage that’s trying to take hold. There’s a dangerous glint in those obsidian eyes, causing the yellow flecks to glow with anger.
The force on my arms isn’t painful, but it’s not comfortable, either. A small tremor of terror runs through my blood and coils itself inside my chest, squeezing out any lingering breath.
His upper lip spreads into a sneer. The little tooth I love so much is fully exposed, sharp and ready to cut.
“Oh, and you’re some kind of saint? You shacked up with some guy in a motel room, then want to claim assault? Give me a break, Tilly.” Noses inches apart, he adds, “No one can be that stupid.”
I stare at him for a long moment. Black eyes reflect the fury resting beneath, waiting to leap free, and mine leak the pain his words cause.
“Thanks for sharing how you really feel.” Those cruel words are like an ice pick piercing my heart.
After opening my soul and sharing that night—the terror and disgust—he’s throwing it in my face. What hurts worse, though, is his disbelief.
Though I must force my mouth to work, I’m able to spit out three words. “I. Hate. You.”
The anger goes out of his eyes, and his lips turn down. Dropping my arms, he takes a step back. “Yeah, well, you aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last.”
Kodiak sits at my feet, gazing at the sky. His face doesn’t smile.
“Come on, Kodiak. We’re leaving.”
Turning, I stalk toward camp.
Jareth’s hand grasps my shoulder and spins me around. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Get your motherfucking hand off me.” I breathe the last word out in a hiss.
Wrenching my body free, I walk, not caring where I’m heading, so long as it’s away from his sorry ass.
I knew this was a bad idea from the start, yet—like a fool—I let him into my heart. Look where it’s gotten me. Sadness tries to descend in the pit of my stomach, in my chest, and on my shoulders, but I force it away and let anger take its place, shielding me as well as titanium armor. Those hateful words ring through my head. You shacked up with some guy in a motel room, then want to claim assault? No one can be that stupid, Tilly.
“Fuck you, Jareth!” The scream mirrors my pain and loss and throws the words back to me in echoes that bounce off the trees and boulders. The moon sneaks through the leaves and gives me enough light to see the rock-and leaf-covered ground.
He calls after me, but I don’t hear—or care—what he has to say.
I stumble into the clearing of what used to be camp. Limbs and leaves litter the area, and the tent lies on the ground, poles bent at odd angles. My backpack and weapons are inside, and I need supplies before I leave.
Sparky, following behind, moves to the collapsed tent and begins straightening the rods. He speaks while his hands work. “Stay, Tilly.”
“Why? He’s an ass, and I hate him. I can’t believe I ever entertained the idea I might love him.” My throat tries to close on the L word, and a tear tracks down my face. “He’s a lying, hateful asshole. I hope he rots in hell.”
The silver threads of Sparky’s suit twinkle when he moves. “You are—” he breaks off, as if gears are rotating inside his helmet “—good for him.”
The Descendant: Baltin Trilogy (Book 1) Page 26
