by Gaia Octavia
“Maybe older, but–”
The man licked his lips, the smell of his revolting breath assaulting me. “So pretty.”
I would fight this man before I let him lay a finger on me. There was no way I could ever go back to that life. I was stronger now. He’d have to kill me first. Touching Emit had been a choice, and it had been beautiful. There was no way I could survive that life again. Not now. A flash of Emit kissing me just a few nights ago filled my mind as warmth washed through me at the memory of his kiss. It’d been hungry, but kind and full of emotion. I remembered the way he’d let me explore his body, how he’d given up all control to me and told me that he loved me.
My Emit.
Suddenly, a cold, wet mouth pressed hard against mine and a rancid tongue was shoved inside of me, the memory of my last kiss obliterated by this new filth. A rage enveloped me at the loss of what had belonged to me and Emit. Memories were all I had now, and this one had just been tainted, erased by an onslaught of revulsion.
My mouth belonged to Emit. My body. My soul. My love.
It was all his.
I bit down on the tongue that had pushed inside my mouth, tasting blood as the man screamed and forced my mouth open to release him. He shouted at the other man to kill me, but the smaller raider didn’t move. Instead, he stayed seated next to the boy, wild-eyed, looking almost impressed. Before I could take advantage of the situation, the larger raider grabbed something hard, something metal, and swung it in an underhanded arc. Directly into my face.
Flashes of light danced in my vision and I collapsed, hearing a strange crackling noise inside my face as I fell. I didn’t feel much pain, but I couldn’t get my vision to clear and my hearing went all garbled again. I tried sitting up, but my body wouldn’t listen to my commands. Just as quickly, the raider’s large hands were grasping me again, shoving the right side of my face into the dirt as he leaned his weight over me and put his lips next to my ear.
“I’m going to fuck you, pretty boy. Before I kill you,” he growled thickly, “I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to let you die.”
My insides went cold as I struggled to turn and fight against him, but his weight and my weakened body made it impossible. I heard the man begin untying his pants and called up an image of Emit, smiling and laughing with that twinkle in his eye I had grown to love so much. The only fear I had in that moment was the fear that I was never going to see him again. I had been stupid not to talk to him before I’d left. I’d left him thinking it was his own fault, when really, it’d been all mine. How could I have done that to him? How could I have walked away from such pure, selfless love?
Tears began rolling down my cheeks. The man sneered and seemed to take satisfaction in them, thinking he was the one who had caused them. He wasn’t. It was the revelation that came to me only minutes before my death, far too late to do any good. I realized that I’d had nothing to fear from loving Emit and allowing him to love me. I’d been punishing myself for what I had done as a child, and for surviving when my family had not. Seeking out the misery I felt I so justly deserved.
Even worse, because I had refused to give myself to Emit, I knew that I never would’ve given myself to anyone, and it would have been true–I would’ve belonged to the man forever. Even half a world away, even after the man was finally dead, I would never have been free of him. And it would’ve been my own doing.
Instead, I was going to die without ever having felt the love of someone inside of me. Only the hate and fear and filth that this raider, the man, and the raiders before him had filled me with. I could have made love to Emit. I could have felt something that had been an impossibility before I met his eyes in that camp. But true to form, I’d been a coward and a fool, and I would never get to tell him that, never get to apologize for all my mistakes. I would never get to tell him that I loved him as desperately as leaves love the sun, as clouds love the rain–and just as endlessly.
Destroying my ability to remain in my thoughts, the man shoved himself up against me before pulling my hips up off the ground and forcing my pants to my knees. As soon as he did, he dropped me as if I were made of fire, causing me to hit my head once again.
“Fucking gods!” He yelled.
He came closer and grabbed the right cheek of my ass, his fingers digging into my skin. I knew from experience that they’d be leaving bruises behind.
“Ha!” He whooped.
I didn’t have time to figure out what was happening because everything seemed to be going dark around the edges and I could feel my body begin shutting down, worn out from the violence and grief.
“I will be rich soon, Patu!” The raider yelled to the smaller one.
He kept talking but I could no longer understand what he was saying, and I welcomed the darkness as it came for me–not wanting to be conscious for my own death. Just before it took me under, I heard a word that made my heart desperate to stop beating.
“Callas,” the raider had said.
Suddenly, the pieces clicked into place and I knew what had happened.
When I’d stood next to the man as he claimed me before the entire camp, the ceremony had included a branding ritual. The man had marked me with his symbol to show that anyone who tried to use me would answer to him. He hadn’t wanted to mark my face, so he branded me where the mark would never be missed by anyone trying to use me. I could still feel the burn of the branding, remember the acrid smell of my burning flesh and the aching soreness that had plagued me for days on the right cheek of my ass.
My brain was already trying to deny the truth that was before me. That Callas–the man–must have placed a hefty reward on my capture and return. As desperate panic settled in, I willingly gave myself to the darkness that had been threatening to swallow me. As I sank under, I called up Emit’s image one last time before silently praying that I’d never wake up.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
⸙
EMIT
I trailed behind Eaton as I sought to shake the thought of how the only man whose footsteps I wanted to be following, was Jade. After deciding to leave at first light, Eaton and I had joined my family for evening meal, which I surprisingly ate, since Ma had made her calliope casserole. I had savored the taste of the sauce that I missed so much, my enjoyment tempered by the fact that it had been Eaton enjoying it beside me and not Jade.
I had been surprised to hear him murmur, “My favorite,” when she brought it out and set it carefully in the center of the table, its delicious aroma immediately enveloping us, but I had known she’d made it just for me. In her dark brown earthenware dish that somehow survived its time in the fire, over and over again. Not unlike Jade, I’d thought. I had tried to push him from my mind so that my appreciative smile could reach my eyes, but when Ma had looked at me, I was able to tell from the sadness in her answering smile that I hadn’t quite pulled it off.
As we sat together, Ma and Pa had talked about how Eaton had been coming by to visit them, always staying for evening meal and letting them know that he hadn’t seen me in his travels. I was surprised to hear how Eaton had always told them that it was a good thing he hadn’t seen me. That it most likely meant I was okay. I didn’t think he really thought that, and figured my parents probably hadn’t either, but I was thankful to him for saying so and for trying to ease their pain. The pain I had created by acting a brash fool. I wondered why Eaton bothered returning, trying to convince my parents that there was still hope. But I wasn’t about to ask him.
After eating, Eaton had talked some more about his group and asked me questions about Jade’s skills and knowledge. He’d asked me what I thought the first thing Jade would do after leaving would be. I thought for a long time before answering, not wanting to rush and get it wrong. Finally, I realized what should have been immediately obvious to me and felt ashamed for being too caught up in my own pity party to think of it sooner.
“He would have climbed,” I told him, “he would have wanted to scout the area to plan where he w
as going to go.”
Eaton said he knew the best place to scout around here and I remembered to mention that Jade hadn’t taken any of his belongings before we agreed to meet up at dawn. I spent the rest of the night in our tent, unable to sleep and sick with worry. When I found his bracelet that afternoon, I’d spent hours trying my best to convince myself that because his pack was still here, he was coming back. But the bracelet in my hand hadn’t let me believe it. Not really. I’d known he was gone the moment I saw it lying where we’d been together, just hours before. He’d either been so upset that he hadn’t thought to grab his pack, or he’d left it behind, not wanting to be weighed down by even one thing that reminded him of me.
It didn’t really matter. Either way, he’d left me behind just like everything else.
⸙
“It’s right up here,” Eaton called over his shoulder.
Noticing I’d fallen quite a bit behind while lost in thought, I hurried to catch up to him right before we crested a hill and I saw the tall rock cliff ahead of us.
Yes.
This is where Jade would have gone. He could have scouted from here and if I was lucky, he had camped next to the cliff, just as we always had when they were in sight and hadn’t left until morning. Which would mean we’d only be about a half-day behind him.
Too far behind.
As we walked along the cliff, I tried to spot a path Jade may have taken up it. I’d watched him enough times to know what he’d be looking for. Larger rocks. Not small ones, since those could easily loosen. Places to rest along the way if it was a long climb. Thick, aged vegetation that would help him with his footing. And large roots–from the giant trees that grew above and through the crevices–which he could use to grasp hold of during his climb.
Right when I spotted a likely course he may have taken, Eaton called out, “Camp!”
My heart leapt. Surely, he’d found the remnants of Jade’s camp from the night before. I trotted over but my heart fell as soon as it came into view. I knew that it wasn’t his. The ground was littered with bones from someone’s meal and an area had been razed where it looked like a small tent had been set up, the holes in the ground still showing. All the now-dead vegetation had been carelessly thrown to the side and sat in clumps, smelling suspiciously of piss.
Not only did Jade not have a tent, unless he’d stolen one on his way out–and Jade was no thief when it came to stealing from non-raiders. But he also wouldn’t have ripped up the vegetation or left his refuse scattered about. He certainly wouldn’t have pissed right next to where he was sleeping. I turned to say so but from the look on Eaton’s face, I knew I didn’t have to.
“What?” I asked.
“Raiders,” he answered quietly.
No.
I didn’t bother asking him how he knew. He knew, and that was enough. I looked up again and saw that we were right under the obvious path up the cliff.
“No,” I said again, this time out loud.
“This is fresh. From last night or this morning most likely,” Eaton continued torturously.
What were the odds? Jade would have seen them. He would have avoided them. But what if he’d been climbing back down the cliff and hadn’t noticed them in time?
What if…
“There are too many what ifs in life, Emit,” I heard Jade say again, “You can’t let your mind go there, or it’ll drive you mad. Trust me.”
“I trust you, Jade,” I said aloud.
⸙
A little before midday on the second day, we found another campsite. I had spent the entire night before wavering between hoping that the raiders we were following didn’t have Jade with them and hoping that they did, and that he was okay. Because if they didn’t have him, we were wasting a hell of a lot of time following their trail. I hadn’t slept again. My arms had felt empty and my body still craved Jade’s warmth. Without him in my arms, without knowing he was safe, I couldn’t relax enough to let sleep wash over me.
I felt like shit and was having trouble keeping my thoughts in order. Not knowing if we were on Jade’s trail was killing me. And the thought that if we were on his trail, he was in the hands of raiders once again, had me on a permanent edge of panic. I needed to find Jade, to hold him and protect him so desperately, I could taste it. It was a bitter, overwhelming taste that drowned out all my other senses.
I looked around the site when I finally caught up. It looked like the site from the day before: holes gouged in the earth, vegetation torn from its rightful place, and refuse left behind to rot. I turned in a circle, struggling to focus my attention on the details, trying to spot any sure sign of Jade.
“Emit,” Eaton said, the sound of his voice making my knees weaken.
I turned to look at him. He was holding up the cut end of a rope that was still tied around a tree. When I stepped closer, I saw that he was kneeling by a pool of muck.
No. Not muck.
Blood.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
⸙
JADE
The light that pierced my eyes through my lids let me know that my prayer had gone unanswered. It was why I never prayed. My body was being jostled–my head pounding, my face screaming in pain with each bob. I could feel the movement, but something about it didn’t feel quite right.
Squinting my eyes, I realized I was being carried over the shoulder of the larger raider, my head upside down and his arm across the back of thighs to hold me in place. The pain was immense. Not only had all the blood been rushing to my head for however long I’d been like this, my face was bumping the man’s back with each step. It felt as if my skin, swollen tight, was about to burst.
“Put me down!” I yelled. The metallic taste of old blood was overwhelming, and my words had come out in a scratchy whisper.
But he’d heard me.
Without warning, he swung me over his shoulder, and I hit the ground with a hard thump. My tailbone buzzed in pain, but I figured it was better than hitting my head again and fought to ignore it.
“Useless boy is awake,” the raider grumbled, “now he walks himself. I know you understand me, boy.”
He lifted his chin in a quick movement. “Get up.”
He turned to continue walking, but as he did, I called out in the language of the raiders.
“Water,” I croaked.
The language felt like filth in my mouth, but I was desperate for a drink. He turned back around and seemed to think for a moment before taking a waterskin from his belt. Opening it up, he walked to me as if to hand it over. Instead, he took a long swig from it before upending the skin and pouring the rest out onto the dirt in front of where I sat.
He laughed.
“Get your ass up, boy. Or you won’t be so pretty when I give you back to your Callas.”
I stood, fighting back tears at the sight of the wasted water, my body screaming for me to lick it up–dirt and all–and began following the large raider. The boy and the smaller raider followed behind me. I don’t know how long we walked, but it seemed like weeks before the raiders finally stopped by a stream and began setting camp. He’d ordered me to sit with the boy, and I fought with myself to ignore the sound of the water that was so close to me as I tried to think of ways to get us out of this mess.
After the raiders were finished eating, having shared nothing with either of us, I couldn’t ignore the burn in my throat for one more moment. I figured there wasn’t much to lose, so I tried again. If I had to beg, I would beg.
“Please,” I scratched, “water. We need water.”
The boy next to me remained silent but I felt his body tense. Whether it was in fear of the raider’s response or with hopes of a drink, I didn’t know. The boy looked feverish and his strength had gone severely downhill throughout the day. I knew he needed water more than I did, I just hoped I wasn’t about to make things worse for him. The larger raider just laughed, but the smaller of the two looked at us a moment before continuing to stoke the fire. I sighed, wondering if I w
ould die of dehydration before being delivered to Callas.
At least there was that hope to hang on to.
But I couldn’t ignore the fire in my throat or the way that my body was screaming for water, to replace what I had lost through sweat after walking all day. But more than that, I knew the young boy had gone longer than I had without a drink, and I was beginning to worry that he was going to reach a point where the raiders found it more of an inconvenience to keep him around than not. Especially now that I seemed to be a much more lucrative prisoner. The endless heat had been torturous, and of course, it had been one of the days where it hadn’t rained a drop.
The larger of the two raiders, who I’d begun referring to as “Big” in my mind, stood and made his way toward the tent. The sun had yet to disappear from the sky, but it seemed that he was tired from our long journey as well. An hour or so after he’d gone to sleep, I looked at the smaller of the two raiders. I hadn’t heard him say one word since waking up above them two mornings ago. I wasn’t even sure he could talk, but I knew he understood the raider tongue because of the big man’s incessant orders that he’d heeded. I decided to try my luck again with him.
“We are thirsty,” I said in raider tongue.
He had been sharpening his knife with a rock, his rhythm slowing as I spoke, before quickly resuming. Other than that, he’d shown no other signs of hearing me.
“Forget about me,” I continued, “how long has the boy gone without water? He will die.”
Again, I got no reaction, so I decided to try a different angle.
“How much will a raider pay you for a boy who can’t perform? How much for a dead boy?”
The raider stopped and put the stone down, piercing me with his stormy grey eyes. I could see a flash of anger in them, but something about his anger seemed to be over what I’d said, rather than why I’d said it. He glanced back at the tent before slowly grabbing his waterskin. I held my breath, hopeful that he would approach.