Guns & Smoke

by Lauren Sevier

  The destroyed remains of the base, sunken deep into a crater.

  My heart hammered in my throat, strangling me and stealing my breath. My hands fumbled as I knotted the reins, shoving them into The Kid’s hands. I prepared to leap from my saddle at the first sign of danger.

  “Where is it?” The Kid asked, his voice small and scared. As if he too could sense the threat beyond that rickety fence. The woman’s hands flailed more dramatically, and Jesse’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as if he were still trying to understand her garbled warning.

  Then we heard it.

  The rumble of a growl, clicking and terrible, rising louder than thunder from beyond the confines of the fence. The sound unraveled me with each bass-like tone, shaking violently into my bones like an otherworldly death knell.

  “Get on your horse,” I whispered to Jesse, praying for the first time in my life that he would finally listen to me. He stood still, frozen. A flash of yellow eyes in the darkness, too large, too tall for a normal beast.

  “Now!” I shouted, the word wrenched from somewhere primal. The creature, still obscured by darkness, slammed against the chain link fence as Jesse shot into motion. The M9 was in my hand, but I couldn’t shoot what I couldn’t see. Eagle reared back, nearly unseating me and The Kid.

  I dug my heels into Eagle’s flanks as Jesse swung up onto his horse. The old woman ran in the opposite direction, a significant limp hindering any progress she could have made. A piercing screech reverberated in the air. The beast slammed into the fence again, shattering the metal with a twisted clang.

  A thought penetrated the fear pulsing in my mind: we’d never know if the old woman survived, since she couldn’t scream.

  Adrenaline flooded through me with each rapid breath and pounding beat of my heart. Eagle shot forward, her survival instincts driving her to new speeds. Underbrush ripped beneath jagged claws, too close to us. My head swiveled around, searching for any sight of the beast. A flash of yellow eyes in the darkness, closing in on Jesse’s right flank. No.

  I yanked the reins hard, forcing Eagle to close the space between us. The beast was black as pitch, barely noticeable in the dark until it peeled back its lips to extend white fangs as long as Jesse’s arm.

  “Hard left!” I shouted, hoping Jesse understood my hurried command. I pulled up on Eagle’s reins and let Jesse cut in front of me. I extended the M9 to the creature and squeezed off a shot.

  I missed. Or the beast's hide was too thick for a bullet to penetrate. Another predatory screech lit the night. I shoved the reins at The Kid.

  “Hold her steady, Kid!” I shouted over the rush of blood in my ears and the frantic whistling of the wind. The fangs glinted in the moonlight, gaining on us, and I did the only thing I could do. I shot at it. Again and again and again. The gunfire echoed before an inhuman howl lit the night. The thud of the beast falling nearly forced Eagle to stumble.

  My ears rang as I took the reins from The Kid, veering Eagle off the path. We rode hard, for so long that I worried about Eagle’s endurance and pushed her past her limit, twice. Until finally, we were so far away from where we’d seen the beast that I slowed us.

  My pulse still pounded in my ears. I didn’t know if I was terrified or furious or relieved. I slid off the saddle onto quaking feet. My whole body thrummed with the need to run. My eyes caught sight of Jesse, tying off his horse.

  Before he could register the fury hardening my features, I was across the space, shoving him with all my weight until he was forced back a few steps.

  “What the fuck was that?!” I shouted, punching him solidly in the chest. I shoved him again, but he didn’t move. “You’re so stupid!” I yelled, raising my fist to hit him again. He caught it easily in his hand, staring incredulously as it trembled in his firm grasp.

  “Why are you shaking?” he asked, his voice softer than I’d thought it would be. Concerned.

  “Why the fuck do you think?” I said, yanking my hand out of his to run it nervously through my hair. Before I’d even realized I’d moved, my arms wrapped tight around him, face buried between his shoulder and neck. I hugged him tight as relief flooded through my entire body. He was warm and here and alive.

  “You could’ve died,” I whispered against his neck. My breath shuddered as the air shifted strangely in my throat.

  His scent filled my nose and eased the panic lingering from our near-death experience. After a moment, his strong arms wrapped solidly around me, and he held me tight. Pressing me as close to him as I could get, his fingers in my hair. I couldn’t tell how long we stood like that. Long enough for my heart to stop pounding and for me to feel safe again. As safe as I always felt in Jesse’s embrace.

  I pulled away first, my arms dropping from around his shoulders. The cold night air rushed into the space between us and raised goosebumps on my skin. His eyes were bright and piercing, unasked questions on his mouth. His gaze dropped to my lips the same way they had before we’d kissed at the lake.

  “W-we should probably set up camp,” I said, stumbling over the words. I stepped away from him. After the disaster of our last kiss, it was probably best to keep my distance. Besides, I hadn’t quite forgiven him for what he’d said earlier.

  The Kid waited for me, saddlebags untied from Eagle and bedrolls already set out. Mine and his, anyway. I ruffled my fingers through his hair, smiling down at him proudly.

  “Bonnie?” he asked, and I took Eagle’s reins to tie her down near Jesse’s horse as The Kid followed behind. “I helped you shoot that crater beast, didn’t I?” I nodded, exhausted already. “Do you think that makes me a real outlaw?”

  I fixed him with a thoughtful stare.

  “Kid, I think you’re more of an outlaw than I am some days,” I told him, cuffing his chin affectionately. “No fire tonight, and we take watch in shifts. You think you can help set up the rest of camp?”

  He nodded, schooling his face into a serious expression that was nearly comical before getting to work.

  I noticed Jesse from the corner of my eye, his broad shoulders shifting beneath the thin material of his shirt as he unpacked with The Kid. I didn’t know how to be like this with anyone. There was something undeniable between us. Barely caged in like that crater beast, looking for an opportunity to break free. This feeling was dangerous. It would consume me if I let it.

  The Kid was too wound up to fall asleep straight away, so as usual he looked to me for entertainment.

  “Tell me a story, Bonnie,” he said, tucked up to his chin in the bedding to stave off the chill without a fire to warm him. I sighed, so exhausted I couldn’t make my thoughts line up to form one.

  “I can’t think of one right now,” I said, running my fingers through his hair. It was starting to curl at the ends.

  “Tell us about the undesirables,” Jesse said, his voice troubled. In the moonlight, the hollows of his face seemed deeper, the lines around his eyes furrowed in guilt. Was he thinking about what happened to that old woman? “Back there. You said not to trust them, but I’ve never heard that word before.”

  “I need to make my way to Montana,” I said, snorting derisively. Jesse didn’t smile; instead his eyes clouded in confusion until the joke registered. He barked out a laugh, the sound too sharp, as if he’d laughed against his better judgment. Clearing my throat, I pulled the blanket of my bedding up higher on my lap. “You saw. Undesirables are deformed, or touched by the Culling. Some people, the superstitious ones, claim they spread disease. All I know is, they live on the fringes. In the burned-out, forgotten places. They’re called undesirables because no one wants them.”

  “That’s just wrong,” Jesse said, a hard glint in his eyes. I shrugged, leveling a stare at him.

  “All I know is, I’ve lived on the fringes before, or been close enough to see how bad it can get. That old woman was nice enough, but not all of them are sweet ol’ ladies. If you get hungry enough, or desperate enough, you’ll do just about anything to survive. So next time, don’t ge
t so close when one has a knife in hand,” I said, before tucking The Kid’s bedding up to his shoulders and following suit. I stared up at the stars for a while, until The Kid’s sleepy voice muttered beside me.

  “After you leave us, will we ever see you again?” he asked, but I didn’t answer. He was already out cold anyway. Before I knew it, I fell fast asleep, feeling weightless and warm like we were back at the lake. Floating.

  “Bonnie,” Jones’s voice said, roaring through my mind. “My Bonnie girl.” There were hands on my arms, pinning me down. A blindfold was ripped from over my eyes, and I saw clearly where I was. Jones’s tent, being held down by two crewmen as Jones lazily lit the end of a fat cigar. The smoke was too sweet and stifling in the heat.

  “You know why you’re here, don’t you?” he asked, grinning too widely. This was when he was the most dangerous. When he was enjoying it. “Beck’s missing. A little birdie told me you had something to do with that.” The man on my right turned away, and I noticed he was wearing a familiar dusty cowboy hat. Will? Will wouldn’t have ratted me out to Jones. He couldn’t have.

  A hard hand yanked my chin up to meet Jones’s dark gaze. The calculating glint in his eyes assessing me, finding all my weak spots and ready to crack them open wide. My bottom lip trembled, but I held my tears back. He got angry when I cried.

  “Not my Bonnie girl,” Jones said, his words slick and mocking. “She would never betray me. She knows what happens when people betray me.” The back of his hand cracked against my cheekbone. I bit back a cry of pain.

  “When I first found you, you were just this wild-eyed, half-starved brat. I made you into what you are. I can unmake you just as easily. Let’s see how long it’ll take you to break,” he said, his grin twisting into a scowl as I begged for mercy I knew he wouldn’t give.

  “No! Please!” I shouted, shooting up from my bedroll and grasping at my left arm. My eyes were wild. I gulped in air as if surfacing from deep water. It was just a dream, I reminded myself. I pulled up the sleeve of my shirt and felt the hard ridges of the healed scar. No blood. No water. Just the memory of what had happened that night pounding through me. My head fell into my hands as I reminded myself that I’d survived that night, which meant I could survive this one too.

  “You okay?” Jesse asked, his voice startling me. He was leaning forward, as if he’d been moments from coming to me when I woke suddenly. If he’d asked me that a couple weeks ago, I might have resented his kindness. I knew him better now. I shook my head, an easy answer to a complicated question. I didn’t know if I’d ever be okay.

  I stood, retrieving my flask from one of Eagle’s saddlebags before crossing to Jesse. I sat next to him, my hands shaking so hard I almost couldn’t twist the cap off. Wordlessly, I handed it to him.

  “It had to do with your scar, didn’t it?” he asked. I nodded, still not recovered enough for words. After passing the flask a few times, my hands stilled as the whiskey warmed my blood. I studied his handsome face in the dark. The moonlight caught on the high points of his face, the sharpness of his jaw. It was a real shame he hated me, because I could have used a good fuck to distract me from the ugliness in my mind.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Not really,” I said, my voice an unattractive croak.

  “If you didn’t want to talk to me, then why did you come over here?” The edge was back in his voice, like earlier at the lake when things got ugly. He sighed and took a large swallow of the whiskey before trying again, this time calmer.

  “It seemed bad,” he said.

  “It was,” I responded in a clipped tone. He scoffed, shoving to his feet. It’s hard for me to talk about! I wanted to shout, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “Fine. If you’re going to stay up, then I’m going to sleep,” he said, but I made a strange noise in the back of my throat and reached forward to grab his hand. I didn’t want him to leave; I didn’t want to be alone in the dark with my past. He stared down at our hands, then at my fearful face.

  “Do you know what waterboarding is?” I asked, in a voice I barely recognized. I’d never felt so small and unsure before. He sat again, in one fluid motion, entwining his fingers with mine. I bit my lip, trying to think of where to start.

  “You’ve met Sixgun,” I said, my eyes on my boots. Jesse squeezed my hand reassuringly. “But, he’s just a thug. A crazy thug, with certain appetites, as you saw. He’s nothing compared to Jones. It’s Jones who runs things.”

  He shuffled closer, until his thigh was pressed against mine. Heat emanated from his body.

  “He was in the military before the Culling. Black Ops. They trained him to be ruthless, cunning, cruel. The perfect weapon.”

  I shivered, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders, never rushing me.

  “They trained him to interrogate enemy soldiers and terrorists in black sites all over the world. And he’s good at it. Waterboarding is...” I choked on the words, hardly able to say them. “It’s drowning on dry land. Brought to the brink of death, over and over and over again.” Silence blanketed us both. There was nothing but the truth of the monster in my mind on the night air between us. My breath fogged in front of me. I wasn’t sure if he heard me at all. Not until he put his hand on my jaw and raised my face until I was staring into his eyes.

  “Why would he do that to you?” he asked, angry. Angry like he was on the train, the kind of anger that could break the world apart if I let it. I swallowed down my trepidation.

  “Jones sees something he wants, and he takes it. That’s what he did to Beck. He saw her and he took her,” I said, feeling stronger now with his eyes on mine. “He had her for years, and every night I could hear her cry when he was done with her. It was like I was back under that bed, watching it happen to my mother, over and over again. Until one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I helped her escape. Jones's one rule is that the only way out of the crew is at the end of a noose.” I swallowed down the last of my trepidation, wetting my lips as the rest of the past came pouring out like dark blood, staining the night in shades of violence.

  “This was around the time Will and I were... together. I hurt him when I told him it didn’t mean the same thing to me that it did to him. I guess I underestimated how much I hurt him, because he saw me helping Beck and he ratted me out. When Jones found out I’d betrayed him, he lost it. He tortured me until I told him everything. Which, thankfully, wasn’t a lot. Then he let Sixgun remind me where my loyalties lie.” Jesse pressed his forehead into mine. I closed my eyes and drank in his scent, soothing my jagged edges with his warmth. Like leather and desert dust and something all his own.

  “Sometimes, at night, it’s like I’m back there. Drowning over and over again, then Sixgun carving into my skin. I feel weak and powerless, just like my mom was that night,” I said. Jesse shifted until I was nestled against his chest. I could hear the steady thump of his heart against my cheek. Safe. I was safe when he held me.

  “Sometimes at night,” he said into my hair, “I can still smell the ash from the fire, and something else, something worse.” I squeezed his hand tight, and we stayed like that for a long time, silent. At some point, Jesse disentangled from me and crossed to my bedding, pulling a blanket around both of our shoulders to stave off the chill. He was the first one to break the comfortable silence that’d settled between us in the long moments after.

  “I didn’t mean what I said earlier, about turning you over to Sixgun. I was just...” He struggled for the words.

  “Hurt?” I offered, and he nodded. “I know. I have a talent for pushing people away.”

  “I still shouldn’t have said it,” he muttered near my ear, his arm tightening around my shoulders to hold me closer.

  “Do you really think I’m stupid?” I asked.

  “No, I think you’re the smartest person I’ve ever met,” he said, with all the conviction with which he said everything else. I smiled against his shirt. “Did you really climb into my bed because yo
u thought I was upset about the train?”

  “No,” I croaked, hiding my face as best I could. “I don’t have nightmares when you hold me.”

  “I don’t have nightmares when I hold you either,” he admitted.

  So I let him. I let him hold me all night. We didn’t speak, we just leaned against each other until the sky began to lighten and the shadows of our pasts seemed to fade into the distance. The Kid stirred, and regretfully, we had to disentangle from each other.

  I moved first, stretching my arms over my head and crossing to Eagle’s saddlebag to pull out my map. Jesse’s eyes followed me; I felt them on my skin. A few moments later, he crossed to me as I stared down at the map, biting my nail and studying the familiar lines.

  “So, your uncle clearly wasn’t in Roswell,” I said. He ran a weary hand over his face.

  “Nope,” he said.

  “Got any ideas what to do now?” I asked. He shook his head. “Okay, well, we can figure it out.” I unfolded the map and spread it before us so I could look at the entire area. “As far as I can tell by the stars last night, we’re about here.” I pointed to an area on the map, and Jesse ducked his head to see it more closely. “If your uncle was in the military and his base got bombed, what would he do?”

  I tucked some wayward hair behind my ear and bit my nail again. My eyes traced the familiar symbols and lines on the map. Places I’d marked in my travels with Jones. Trading posts, craters, dangerous places, and military outposts.

  “He’d probably travel to the closest military base, for backup or a commanding officer. Right?” I asked. Jesse stared at me with warmth in his eyes, and it was incredibly distracting. “The closest one is here.” I pointed out the place I’d marked.

  “Fort Hood, Texas,” he said as The Kid finally dragged himself off the ground, his bedding still around his shoulders as he shuffled on weary feet over to us. “Yeah, let’s do it.”