Grave

by L H Whitlock

  Every day he checked on Nora, making sure to keep in the shadows of the trees. Several times he swore she looked around for him though he knew she couldn’t see him.

  He watched her painstakingly build a greenhouse of sorts to cover her garden. Brilliant. This timid little woman was brilliant.

  He watched her friends help her every day and watched them eat dinner together. Each time a spear of longing struck him, then anger as he remembered her friends’ previous comments about him. Their lies. Their stories. No doubt, Nora thought they were true. Why would she doubt the dramatic tales, especially after he showed her just how out of control he could be?

  His old master’s words echoed in his skull. “You’re a monster, altered to be a killing machine and win me a fortune. Nothing more. I own you.”

  Grave brought two fingers to his temple to rub the words away. If he hadn’t made the promise to Rikar that he wouldn’t seek vengeance, he would be happily deceased, having killed as many lords as he could in pursuit of his master. He wouldn’t stop until his heart ceased coursing blood through his veins. He’d be dead, but he would be triumphant. He would have ripped the man’s spine out and held it up for all to see, for all to witness the death of the true monster. Then he would—

  “Grave!” Rikar came to a stop next to him. “Fuck, man, you’re being elusive, even for you. I’ve been calling you for a good five minutes; I had to sprint to catch up with these damn trots of yours.”

  Grave hadn’t even realized he was patrolling. As Rikar teased, Grave slowed to a stop and looked over at the wilderness beyond the sanctuary walls.

  How he wished for freedom, to leave these damn walls, but he had promised Rikar, and he was a man of his word.

  “Apologies.” He had to try to make his voice sound interested while the tail end of bloodlust still consumed his thoughts.

  “Fuck, dude. Who you conspiring to kill?” Though Rikar posed it as a hypothetical, Grave knew the other man understood Grave’s dark thoughts. He had nothing left but his mind, and even that at times began to slip away without anything to anchor it to.

  “You need to socialize more. Talk to me when things get dark,” Rikar pressed.

  Grave leaned against the edge of the wall. “There is nothing to talk about.”

  “What about the girl?” Rikar asked.

  Grave’s entire body stiffened. His breath hitched, and he pressed his lips tight in rebellion. This subject he didn’t wish to discuss.

  “Last time we spoke, days ago, mind you, a little pixie was following you around. I teased you about it and you punched me. That’s how I knew it was real.” Rikar winked, and Grave growled.

  “You have to let someone in, you know?” Rikar went on.

  “There is nothing to let anyone in to.”

  “I know you’re miserable here. You feel trapped. I know you think you’re a monster, dangerous to others and an ugly son-of-a-bitch. You need to get past that and get back into the community. You’re isolating yourself, and your demons are rising a bit too close to the surface. That’s dangerous for a man like you.

  “When I made you promise me not to leave here, I didn’t mean to make you live in hell. You’re one of us. The others fear you because they don’t know you, and part of that is your fault.” Rikar paused for a moment as though to let Grave interject, but he didn’t.

  Rikar scoffed and continued. “You mope around as though you’re some big scary wuglor hunting for your next meal, prowling the perimeter in the dark of night. What do you expect them to say? What do you expect them to think? They’re going to see the darkness because that’s all you show them. You need to focus on showing them the good side of you, the side who stays up all night, so crime doesn’t go rampant and so no one from the other side of the walls tries to enact revenge.

  “People are going to talk about the times you weren’t there, not the times you were because people are mother fucking assholes and that’s what they enjoy. Spreading rumors. But you don’t—”

  “I’ve scared her,” Grave murmured. A sense of relief washed over him, as though the unspoken confession had been aching to get out.

  Rikar paused and dropped his hands, which had been animatedly flinging through the air as he tried to lodge his words into Grave’s understanding.

  The cold breeze rustled Grave’s long cloak, making the fabric of his hood sway away from his face casting a brief glint of starlight over his scared flesh. Rikar leaned against the wall and glanced out across the forest. The smell of sweltering firewood drifted in the chilly air, burning the inside of his nose and swirling in his mind a sense of nostalgia.

  “Remember our first night here?” Grave asked, his voice low as the memory blossomed. That night had once claimed the spot of his most cherished memory. Now another, simpler memory held the honor. One of seeing Nora’s smile as she rambled with her thoughts.

  Rikar smiled and nodded, his gaze looking beyond the tops of the trees. “Yes, I do. You, me and Helic, all huddled around a small fire under a tree in a torrential downpour. I thought we had escaped the arenas only to find hell itself.”

  Laughter rumbled in Grave’s chest. “Yes, but even so, an outsider would have thought we landed in paradise. The rain and the cold and the roars of the wuglors meant nothing to us. We laughed, we drank, and we declared that we would make this place a sanctuary for all running from their owners, their rulers, kings, and governments.”

  “Then Helic learned of all the paperwork and policies, and somehow made it through that legal maze while we built these very walls with our bare hands.” Rikar thrust out his arms in triumph. Grave felt the same every time he looked at the walls. The accomplishment held fond memories, some of the first pleasant experiences in his entire life.

  “Every so often, someone would arrive seeking sanctuary and start to help us build. These walls may be ugly, but after living out there for a few years, I appreciate them. Though I do miss fighting for my life every night.”

  Rikar bellowed with laughter and slapped his palm against the edge of the wall.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Unlike you, my friend, I don’t enjoy nearly getting killed and feasted upon by a ferocious feline.”

  “Reptile,” Grave corrected.

  “Reptile?” Rikar’s bushy brown eyebrows furrowed.

  “Wulgors are more reptilian then feline.”

  Rikar rolled his eyes. “Oh no, not this again. Fine, Reptile. Anyway, I was just thinking about how drunk we all got the night Helic returned with news that we had officially achieved sanctuary status.”

  A smile tugged at Grave’s mouth. “He wondered why we had built such a high wall, and we had to show him the beasts because he didn’t believe us.”

  Rikar’s shoulders shook as he threw his head back with a laugh. “Those were simpler times. Everything was before the war of the sanctuaries.”

  Grave shrugged. “Those were good times too.”

  “I swear, man. Any chance you get to flex your demons you do. It was a good thing we had you, though. The soldiers from Yunnika, Morala, and Ever had no clue who they were messing with.”

  Grave felt the familiar clench of his abdomen at the mention of bloodshed. It had been so long since he had a good fight and he honestly longed to do the one thing he was good at.

  “What do you mean you scared her?” Rikar asked.

  Not sure how to explain himself, Grave diverted. “Have you heard from Helic?”

  Rikar glared at him. “Nice try. Last I heard from him he was on Ever getting some new tech. Now, what do you mean you scared her?”

  Grave groaned through his nose. “I don’t know what happened. We were talking, and the topic of Hayme and the king came up.”

  “Oh, fuck.”

  “Pretty much. I dumped on her some hard truths about her religion, her king, Hayme, and what they lacked and how far behind they were. Something took over, and when I finally calmed down, I had her backed up against a tree. I should never have gotten c
lose to her. This is how it always ends.”

  Rikar was silent for a moment. “You know, I bet you’re not giving Nora enough credit. She seems to see the good in people. And remember, you haven’t given her a chance to react. Let me guess. You stormed away, right?”

  “I did not storm away.”

  Rikar stared at him for several moments.

  “Fine, I walked away, yes.”

  “Stormed, brooded, not even turning back for a final glance. Did you at least hand her the keys to the door you fixed?”

  Embarrassment had Grave’s fists clenching. “I put them in her door so she would find them when she got home.”

  Rikar groaned. “What a gentleman.”

  Grave growled, and Rikar held up a hand in surrender. “Just go talk to her. She’s obviously open to it. Tell her the truth. Besides, you still drop off wood and a flower every day for her, so she doesn’t have to chop her own firewood. That’s actually sweet, and I don’t think I’ve ever used that word to describe you before.”

  “The truth?” Grave scoffed. “What should I say? That I’m a hideous, unstable monster with PTSD?”

  Rikar rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. Anyone who knows your past would understand and expect you to have PTSD. You’ve been through a lot, let her in a bit. You don’t need to dump your entire story on her all at once, but tell her a little about what’s going on with you.”

  “Lit-ta and Deon told her stories about me.”

  “The universe has told stories about you, that’s nothing new. Nothing you’re not used to, but I’ve never seen you this interested in someone. Go to her. I bet you’ll be surprised. Otherwise, she’ll lose interest and allow one of the many men in the sanctuary to court her. She’s gorgeous, and there aren’t many women around here.”

  Grave’s arms tensed at the thought of anyone courting Nora, or her affections being taken by another. He turned and headed along the tall stone walkway toward the stairs leading down from the top of the perimeter wall.

  “Nice talking to you too!” Rikar yelled, and Grave turned to address his friend.

  “Thank you, Rikar. I apologize for my…lack of social interaction. It’s been hard for me to adapt.”

  “You have to let yourself adapt, Grave. Don’t hide in the shadows.”

  Grave waved and headed down the stairs. For the first time in a long time, adrenaline coursed through him, and not because he was gearing up for a fight, but because he honestly didn’t know how to confront Nora, or what to say to make everything right. She seemed so small and fragile compared to him, and he feared he would inadvertently hurt her. But Rikar was right; he needed to explore his attraction and allow someone a chance to get to know him.

  13

  Nora rinsed her hands and wiped them on her new towel. Since she had refused to join Deon and Lit-ta for dinner, she was on her own and stared at the vegetables and oat bread. She didn’t have any meat or fruit, but it was too late to go back to the market. She stared out into the darkness through her window and dropped the curtain for privacy.

  She placed the pan on the cooktop and tried to remember what Lit-ta did to get the top to heat. She knew it activated due to a chemical reaction of some kind, but couldn’t remember which button to press.

  Her stomach bulged slightly, and she felt a soft kick. She gasped and pressed her hand to her stomach. Her first kick! She had just felt her first kick. Laughter and tears came all at once, and she wished she had a friend to talk to or a partner to share the moment with.

  Even if she were back home, neither would have happened. Chances were her child would be dead, and she would have been exiled, having been deemed unworthy by Hayme.

  Loneliness settled atop her shoulders. Nora slumped to the floor, where she cried for several minutes before pulling herself together.

  Deon was right; she was a wimp. No! She jolted back up to her feet and put her hands on her hips. She may seem like a wimp, but she ran away from home and came to this place all by herself. Sure, she was still figuring stuff out, but she wasn’t as timid as they said. They just didn’t know her story.

  Should she tell them?

  She remembered the look on Lit-ta’s face when her hand brushed against her belly. With Nora’s small size, it would be odd that her stomach was distended and rounded, even if it were slight, and it was already hard, not soft as would be expected.

  Lit-ta knew. But who would come out with the truth first? And if Lit-ta knew, Deon knew.

  Nora would have felt betrayal in that knowledge, but after seeing how close the two were, she couldn’t muster the feeling. If she were that close with someone they would know her every secret too, so she couldn’t hold that against them. All she could do was pray and know that God would show her what she needed to do.

  Bile burned in her throat. Did she even know who the real God was anymore? What parts of the scroll were altered?

  She sniffled and pressed a different button on the stovetop and watched as the raised round platform turned white. She placed the pan on top and dumped vegetables in, then closed her eyes and listened to the nostalgic crackles as the food cooked.

  Footsteps scraped the ground outside, and she froze, listening as they got closer, shuffling around her house. There seemed to be a dozen or so of them.

  Nora quickly killed the lights as she crept closer to the window and slid the curtain back just enough so she could peek outside.

  Darkness met her, and she couldn’t make anything out as her eyes still worked on adjusting from going light to dark.

  A large hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her screams. She kicked and flailed as another arm wrapped around her torso.

  “Shhhhh,” Deon whispered.

  “Nora, Nora, it’s okay.” Lit-ta rounded the front of her, her body outlined by shadows.

  Deon slowly released his hand. “Sorry to scare you. We came through the window in the back. You should lock that, by the way. There’s a bunch of people scoping out your place.”

  “I just heard them,” Nora whispered in reply. “What do they want?”

  “I don’t know,” Deon confessed.

  “Did you run into anyone strange in town? I thought I saw Griff out there, so that can’t be good. And the guy who sells blankets. Some of the others I recognize from out and about and a few…past clients.” Lit-ta winced. “Do you think they might have the wrong house? Maybe they’re looking for me? I’m so sorry, Nora. I should never have gotten you involved in this.”

  Nora brushed the woman’s worry away with a wave of her hand. “Even if that is their intent, I would be happy to keep them away from you. But…you’ve lived here for quite some time. I wouldn’t think they have the wrong house. They know where you live.”

  “True,” Lit-ta said with a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, no!” Nora’s throat tightened. “Do you think they’re here for my greenhouse? I just finished it!”

  Deon peeked out the window. “They don’t appear to be going for the greenhouse. They’re huddled and talking right now. Maybe planning their next move after they scoped out the entrances. Nora, did you have any odd encounters with any of these men?”

  Nora moved to Deon’s side and peeked out beneath his arm. “No. I mean, not that I can think of. I’ve only seen a few of them in the market and only talked with Griff and the guy who sells blankets. Him,” Nora said pointing to the brown-haired man whose blue eyes had been so kind. Surely he wasn’t meaning her harm. “That guy sold me my blanket. That’s Dexter.”

  “Dexter’s a son of a bitch. I bet he asked you to sleep with him in exchange for the blanket. He does that to all the snubs. Bastard.”

  “Well,” Nora bit her lip until it hurt. “He did offer something like that, but I said no and gave him Tints instead. Do you think he’s mad about that? About me turning him down?”

  Deon stared at her for several moments. “You’ve been paying people with Tints?”

  The question was more of an accusation, and Nora felt her c
heeks flush. “Yes, I brought some with me, and I don’t have anything else to trade, so I thought it would be okay for just a bit.”

  Deon groaned and dropped his face into his hands. He took a steadying breath before looking at her again. “This place is not designed for currency. Grave outlawed money for a reason, and only small amounts are in circulation. Having coin here is like dangling ripe virgins in front of the king.”

  “Deon—” Lit-ta hissed.

  Deon held up his hands. “Sorry, but that’s true. When coin was in circulation without restriction, there was a ton of crime. While the men who guard this place don’t necessarily care about crime, I mean, what do we expect coming to a refuge for criminals? Crime is sure to be rampant. But it was getting to the point of a civil war, and Grave had enough with it. He outlawed the use of coins. In hindsight, it actually made it even more valuable here because no one has any, so purchases off planet are difficult. But crime did drop dramatically.”

  Lit-ta groaned. “Enough with the history lesson. So, Nora’s got some coin, now what the hell do we do.”

  Nora, who was the only one still focused on the scene outside, stumbled away from the curtain. “They’re coming!” She looked to Deon for advice, for guidance.

  Lit-ta joined her in her gaze and Deon stared at the two for a moment before taking on his role of guardian. “Get anything you can fight with. They’re going to break in, and we’re in for a serious beat down.”

  Nora nodded and backed up into the counter, fear scrambling her mind. Did she have anything that could be used as a weapon?

  The door erupted inward, its wood splintering and falling to the floor with a bang that had Nora jumping a foot in the air. Men rushed into the home, yelling amongst each other.

  “Here snubbie, snubbie,” came a taunt that Nora recognized as Dexter.

  “What…what do you want?” she stuttered, ashamed of the fear in her voice. He marched over to her, his form towering over hers. “Give me your Tints, and I’ll fuck you gently.” Where Nora normally would have cowered in fear, she suddenly felt rebellious. To hell with these men. Her hands blindly traversed over the countertop behind her until they felt the heat of the pan.