by Gaia Octavia
Like Emit’s camp, we never traveled far from our home. Our camp leader would travel to the nearest settlement every few months to trade whatever we had for whatever he could get of what we needed. Other than that, we kept to ourselves. Like those in many small camps throughout the land, my parents had believed that remaining in a smaller group meant being a much smaller target for raiders. And therefore safer. While finding a settlement had its benefits, it also came at a price. And it put a larger target on your back when it came to raids. My spine tingled, and I shivered as I forced my mind away from the thought of raiders. Having been forced to live with them for eight years, I had plenty of places I didn’t need my mind to go right now if we were going to get out of here and make it to a safe spot to camp before nightfall.
Usually, while we sat around the fire, Emit would tell me stories about his childhood, his camp, and his life. I hadn’t had a childhood to speak of since I’d been eleven-years-old, so part of me devoured his stories and always longed to hear more. The other part of me had to fight not to picture my own parents or my little sister. Not because I didn’t want to remember the good times we had together. Or all the ways they used to show us love and make us feel happy and safe. It was because I couldn’t remember them as they used to be without remembering them as they were the last time I’d seen them.
Bent.
Broken.
Screaming.
Dead.
“Jade?” Emit asked, putting his hand on my shoulder.
I jumped and quickly shook it off.
“Sorry,” he said immediately, “you okay?”
I hadn’t noticed that I’d stopped walking while thinking of my family. And while I wasn’t crying, tears were pricking the backs of my eyes. It had been over eight long years since that night and I still couldn’t think of it without finding myself right back there in that real-life nightmare. The one that had stretched on and on until I made myself feel nothing. Except during my nightmares, I hadn’t cried in six years. Not even on the nights the man had tortured me. I sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.
“Sorry,” I offered, echoing his own apology, “yeah, I’m fine, Emit.”
“Just tired,” I added.
I started walking again. We still had a few hours left to put as many more miles as possible between us and that camp. I didn’t know how we would make it, given how tired we were, but I knew that somehow, we would.
We had to.
⸙
We’d been walking in silence for a couple of hours, neither of us seeming to mind, when the vegetation suddenly thickened, swallowing every inch of ground. Massive fern leaves and tangles of vines merged in thick layers, so that everywhere we looked was a stubborn, green blockade reaching up above us.
“Should we go around?” Emit asked.
I knew that we could be traveling for days looking for a way over the mess. I’d forgotten about this stretch of particularly difficult terrain and wished I had taken a sharp, full blade to cut our way through this nightmare. My small knife wasn’t going to get us anywhere. Reaching into the thick tangles, I spread an opening to peer through. The last thing my body wanted to do was fight to get through this mess, but we would have to double back at least an hour to find a suitable camping spot, and backward was the last direction I wanted to go in. I was pretty sure we could get through to the cliffs that ran along the other side of the overgrowth in the same amount of time, if not less.
“This runs for miles in both directions. It used to be swampland,” I explained, “we could be walking for days before we find a way around. It won’t be easy, but we can get through to the other side and camp before nightfall.”
I let go of the tangled mass and turned to Emit. He looked unsure. And more than a bit apprehensive.
“But–”
His brow furrowed as his eyes pinched into narrow slits.
“How is it safe to go in there? We won’t be able to see anything coming for us.”
I smiled, trying to look reassuring.
“It’s far too thick for large predators to get through. The most we will have to watch out for are some insects and the baby lystros hunting them. Though lystros can be quite annoying when you’re trying to watch your footing.”
He still didn’t look convinced, but I stomped down some vines and pushed my way in.
“C’mon, Emit, just follow me.”
I heard a sigh, but felt him come up close behind me, the heat of his body radiating off of him.
Carefully planting my feet and inching forward, I kept spreading a path for us. Only bothering to use my knife when I couldn’t untangle the mess of growth to push through it. Emit was directly on my heels, which he had to be, as he had to hold each opening for himself once I pushed through it. When I got to a spot that was thick and covered by overhanging rock, I stopped and held the growth apart for Emit. I nodded him through first, so he wouldn’t have to worry about stooping and trying to keep hold of the opening at the same time. He made it through easily enough and I followed close behind.
“Thanks,” he murmured.
I nodded, sidestepping past Emit to get in front of him again. Pressed together by the thick, unyielding greenery, our chests brushed together as I slid by him. I held my breath, avoiding his eyes as our faces lined up. I could feel his gaze on me, and without thinking, my eyes flashed to his. It was only for a quick moment. But there was no mistaking where Emit’s eyes had been focused.
On my lips.
My body stuttered, as if unwilling to continue. But I quickly became aware that my body was starting to react to the thoughts that were flashing through my mind. Thoughts of me leaning through that little bit of distance separating us. Of drawing his lips to mine and tasting his gorgeous, wet mouth, allowing his heated breath to wash over me.
Shit.
I hurried to finish moving past him as I felt my traitorous dick begin to stir. But when you’re wading through masses of vines, intent on coiling around your legs in an effort to take you over, hurrying isn’t the best idea. I tripped, feeling my body rock toward Emit and overcorrecting in a panic. As I threw my weight back, I felt Emit’s strong arms wrap around me, his hands open against my shoulder blades as he hauled me back towards him. And suddenly, we were standing in an embrace, our breaths escaping in pants, as if we’d just been running.
It only took a moment for me to remember why I’d been so desperate not to be pressed against him, and only one moment more to realize that my erection was now pressed firmly against his body–my hands instinctively held open against his chest as he held me. Emit’s eyes were locked on mine. I was about to apologize and beg the vines to wrap themselves around me so that I could remain hidden until the end of time, when I realized that my dick wasn’t pressed against soft, fleshy skin but against an equally firm hard-on.
We were both frozen. Staring into each other’s eyes. Emit’s tongue darted out to wet his lips in an unconscious invitation that I desperately wanted to accept. This was mad. I felt my body melt. I pressed into him as my mind began flashing a red alert. With more self-control than I had ever before needed to muster, I gently pushed myself off Emit’s chest, immediately feeling the loss of his warmth, his light.
“Thank you,” I said, clearing my throat, “sorry.”
Emit said nothing but continued to look at me, unwilling to break eye contact.
I had no such reluctance.
Turning, I began stomping down a path and spreading us a way out of the now-claustrophobic closeness of this green hell I’d found myself in.
CHAPTER SIX
⸙
EMIT
I sat down next to the fire I’d set. Thankful to be of some small use to Jade and that our day had finally come to an end. I still had no clue what had happened between us in that tangled mass of overgrown vegetation, but I knew that we’d both been caught in the same predicament. I wasn’t sure exactly how I felt about it, but it didn’t bother me as much as it confused the hell out of me. It
was natural for things like that to happen, given our ages and closeness. At least that’s what I settled on as an explanation.
No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t figure Jade out. The boy was distant, almost cold most of the time. But never cruel. There were moments when he let his guard down and I caught a look in his eyes that seemed on the verge of wonder–a definite yearning–before they were shuttered once again behind the cold, careful blankness he hid behind.
But he had saved me.
He had risked his own life to get me out of that camp when he hadn’t had to. There’d been plenty of other boys there. I still had no idea why he chose me to accompany him, but I was grateful for it. And for him. Even if I had somehow managed to escape on my own–though it had taken all the years of Jade’s knowledge about the goings on in the camp and of the men’s habits not to get caught–there was no way I would have been able to navigate this terrain, or even feed myself once I got outside the camp. I wouldn’t have made it a mile before being recaptured or killed.
It bothered me that I couldn’t seem to reach Jade through his armor of ice. I wanted him to know how thankful I was. But whenever I tried to tell him, throughout the many months we’d been together, he’d become angry. Maybe angry wasn’t the right word. Incredulous and wary, maybe. As if I were making some joke at his expense. So, I settled for throwing him a smile and a quick word of thanks whenever it was warranted.
Which was a lot.
I watched Jade as he busily arranged the meat over the cook fire from the small animals he’d trapped and gutted earlier in the day. His dark hair swept into tight curls just below the nape of his neck and I wondered what it would look like if he grew it out. If it would grow out as curly as it was at the bottom, or wavier and thicker like it was at the top. Jade sat by the fire watching the meat as it cooked. I forced myself to do the same before he caught me studying him. Again. I fingered a small stone, thinking about how I wished I could be more useful to Jade. After sitting in silence for quite some time, I decided to ask him the question I’d been thinking about asking all day.
“Do you think one of these days, you could show me how to set traps like you?”
Jade made a noise like he was going to spit.
“It takes a lot longer than a day to learn how to become a suitable trapper,” he scoffed.
“Oh.”
I bent my head and watched the fire again.
Jade’s voice was much kinder this time.
“Sorry, I just meant that you’ll have to practice. But of course I’ll show you.”
I perked up at that.
“Really? You will?”
I wanted to jump across the space that separated us and give him a hug. Not because teaching me to trap was such a big deal, but because it’d been so long since I’d felt any comfort, and I’d wager much, much longer since he had. But I knew Jade’s aversion to touch well. Far more often than not, a small gesture of my hand on his shoulder or a playful shove made his entire body seize up and left him scrambling to get away from me. So, I always tried to be aware of my body when I was around him to be sure I was giving him his space.
“It’s nothing.” He shrugged.
“It’s something,” I replied, “without you, I would have starved to death months ago.”
To my surprise, I saw the corners of Jades mouth threaten to lift.
“What?”
“It’s just,” he began, “it seems to me that you had enough stored on you to last you a bit longer than that when we left the camp.”
Jade’s eyes twinkled.
I let out a shout of laughter and playfully tossed the stone I’d been holding at him.
“Holy shit. Jade, did you just make a joke?”
I wiped at the moisture my laughter had wrung from my eyes, far happier than I should have been about discovering his sense of humor. I had been a bit chubby when the raiders had taken me, but after months of traveling and the changes in my diet, I had slimmed down and begun to show muscles that–though not anywhere near as defined as Jade’s–had me starting to appreciate my body and the things it could do.
“Sorry,” Jade murmured.
“Sorry? Jade, that was hilarious!” My shoulders started shaking as I fought to hold another round of laughter inside.
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said quickly.
I turned to him.
“It looked good on you,” he blurted, a look of horror blooming across his face as his cheeks flushed the most adorable shade of red. He closed his eyes, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world right now.
“Well, when I get back to eating Ma’s evening meals, I’ll try to remember that as I pack it all back on.”
Jade finally opened his eyes, ignoring my remark and checking on the meat–deeming it suitable to eat. We both grabbed our metal disc from our packs and after setting tomorrow’s rations aside, Jade evenly divided the meat while I added the soft-boiled roots that had been simmering in a can over the fire for the last hour. As we ate, Jade remained quiet. I began talking about the dishes my mother cooked for me. I told him that my favorite had been her calliope casserole. The large bird’s meat was tender and juicy and the vegetables from my mother’s garden were the best I’d ever eaten. I laughed as I told him about how she absolutely refused to tell anyone what her recipe for her sauce was. At that thought, I fell silent.
“Emit?”
“Sorry. I was just thinking that if anything’s happened to her, I’ll never taste it again.” I put my food down. No longer hungry.
Jade was quiet for a bit.
“You said you were taken outside your camp and that the other families had young boys as well, right?”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Well, then your family is definitely alive. Otherwise, you would have seen those boys in the camp as well.”
“I know. But what if–”
“There are too many what ifs in life, Emit,” he interrupted, “you can’t let your mind go there, or it’ll drive you mad.”
He looked at me then.
“Trust me.”
I shook my head, grateful that he was trying to comfort me. “What about you, Jade?” I asked, far too nonchalantly.
I saw his body tense up and I knew better than to press.
“What do you mean?”
“What’s your favorite dish that your mother makes?”
Jade closed his eyes, as if retrieving a memory. I thought he might actually answer me for once, but when he opened his eyes–those brilliant, blue orbs–they were back to being cold and distant.
He stood up, leaving his dish.
“Go to bed, Emit. We have a long day tomorrow.”
Without another word, or even a glance, he was gone. Moving off into the woods where he went whenever he needed to get away from me. I sighed and moved to pick up his plate before using the small stream we’d camped nearby to rinse them both off. I had known better but hadn’t been able to stop myself. I wanted to know Jade.
I wanted to help him just like he helped me. I had no clue what I was doing, and maybe my clumsy attempts were just selfish acts that were making things worse for him, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that Jade needed someone to listen to him. So, he wasn’t ready to talk. Maybe he never would be. But maybe knowing that I wouldn’t give up on him was something he needed.
Because he sure as hell didn’t seem to have anybody else.
I set Jade’s mat out before promptly curling up on mine. It had been stupid of me to ask the question. But if something as small as his favorite dish could send him running, how was I ever going to figure out how to help him? I sighed and snuggled deeper under my blanket. Even though it wasn’t dark yet and the air was still rather warm, the comfort of the material was something that I always looked forward to.
One day, Jade would come to trust me. Until then, I would try my best to remain patient and let him know that I was here for him in all the little ways that I could.
; ⸙
I was surprised to hear Jade lie down on his mat. I’d assumed he would come back after he set the traps–after I’d fallen asleep–like he usually did when I upset him. I turned to face him but stayed silent as he stared up towards the sky, my eyes eventually closing as I began to doze off.
“Do you think they knew?”
Jade’s voice was quiet, but I could hear an edge of anger in it.
“All those people thousands of years ago, before the Earth warmed, do you think they knew what they were doing to it?”
I opened my eyes, surprised to discover what it was that had had Jade looking up at the clouds for the last half-hour, his face set in a grimace that had kept me silent as I’d drifted towards sleep.
“Ma says they did. She says they had machines and people telling them so all along, but that they didn’t care. Or at least, they didn’t stop.”
“You don’t believe that?”
I let out a long sigh, “I don’t know, Jade. I just–”
I turned on my side so that I was facing him. He was still staring up at the sky, but for some reason, I needed the sight of him. I had thought about this as much as anyone. Wondering if the stories passed down were true or if they just served to give us someone to blame; our nameless ancestors as good as any to take the fall.
“I don’t understand how they could have willingly doomed themselves and their children, doomed all of us, to lose everything mankind worked so hard to gain.”
All that knowledge, all that technology, it was all lost.
“Can you imagine it?” Jade’s voice was full of wonder, of longing, “having more than you knew what to do with. The sea so much smaller, full of life, and you could even swim in it. Technology, vehicles, and houses made of wood and brick and metal. How?”
His voice had grown cold–edged with pain.