CHAPTER 9
More humiliation awaited me in the morning. Taking care of a full bladder in the morning was easy for Nathan, mortifying for me. There was nothing dignified about peeing behind a tree while your super-cute wilderness tour guide lurked nearby.
The day only got worse from there. The rabbit had long vacated my stomach, and the crackers we split for breakfast had done little to satisfy my hunger pangs. Every muscle in my body ached and my ankle throbbed. We were further cursed by bad weather. The temperature steadily dropped as we gained altitude and, by midafternoon, we were trudging through a light sleet and rain mixture. My clothes were soaked and clung to my body. I was cold, exhausted, hungry, and crabby.
“So, Nathan,” I called from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and slowed, barely. “How long are we going to be walking through the woods?”
He shrugged, and I waited for him to elaborate, but apparently he didn’t think that was necessary. It was a golden opportunity for my patented sarcasm to make its grand entrance. “Okay, thanks. That really helps clear everything up.” He didn’t indicate one way or another that he heard me, so the snarkiness kept coming, like a wall of water rushing through a broken dam—impossible to stop once it started. “Why all this walking through the woods anyway? I know you want to hide out for a little while, but why in the mountains? Why don’t we climb down off this thing and find a car to hijack? They’d never know.” I attempted to angle through a bush of thorns as cleanly as Nathan had, and groaned when I had to stop to unsnag my pants.
At least he stopped and waited for me to free myself. “We’re better off hanging low in the middle of nowhere for a while,” he said.
“Well, you picked the right place.” When he didn’t elaborate, I sighed. “Why are we better off?”
He took a minute to think about his answer. “Because my side is better with this sort of thing than the other side is. Chances are they didn’t bother trying to follow us, and if they did, they’re probably really lost right now. More than likely, they’re waiting for us to pop up somewhere civilized. Instead, we’ll stay off their radar and, eventually, they’ll move on.”
Sound theory, but I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t have tried following us. “Why are you so sure they’re not trailing us right now?”
“We all have certain strengths. One of mine happens to be a strong sense of nature, hunting, tracking, living off the land…” He opened his arms in gesture to the nature we were immersed in. “That sort of thing. It’s a rare trait for the other guys.”
While it was good to know we had an advantage, I was hung up on his choice of words. “Did you say one of your strengths?”
“I’m kind of a mutt,” he answered with a shrug. “I have a few specialties.”
I smiled at the term mutt, but he wasn’t looking. “Like what?”
He ticked them off on his fingers. “I’m really good at fixing things and solving problems, I’m a good fighter, and I’m kind of smart.”
I had seen proof of his fighting skills and had to agree with him about that one, but I rolled my eyes at the suggestion of his heightened intelligence. “Not cocky at all, are you?”
He shrugged like he couldn’t help it. “It’s all in my blood.”
“So you’re born with these strengths?”
“Kind of.” He hesitated and looked at me like he was deliberating on how much to tell me. Again, he was careful with his words, “We’re born with certain preprogrammed traits, but they don’t show up until late in adolescence. Then, we start to master these specialties while developing an increase in overall strength and speed.”
“Hmm.” The idea of being born with an aptitude in certain things was, well, interesting. Whoever, whatever, he was...it intrigued me. So much so that curiosity replaced the bitchiness from a moment ago. “So, aside from the ones you have, what other specialties are there?”
“There are a total of twelve. The nature thing, the fighter, the crafty-fixer, and the smart one.” He listed them slowly, starting with his own traits as he ticked them off on his fingers. I kept my expression blank as he spoke. From the way he eyed me, I knew it wouldn’t take much of a reaction from me—an eyebrow raise, running, kicking and screaming, or anything in between—for him to put a stop to this question and answer session. “There are manipulators of the four elements: air, water, earth, and fire, natural born leaders, and charmers that are good with people.”
I immediately thought of Alec. Alec, the charmer. Nathan definitely lacked that one.
That was only ten specialties. While I couldn’t wait to grill him for examples of what a fire manipulator could do or what kind of tricks could be done with water, I wanted to know what the other two were.
He hesitated and looked down at me as if he had read my mind. “The others are a little weird,” he cautioned.
“Compared to the normalcy of everything else?”
He shrugged as if he realized for the first time that I had a point. “There are some that can predict the future, visit others in their dreams and communicate with them. We call them prophets.”
“Wow,” I breathed. Now that was cool.
He made a face like he hadn’t been prepared for me to be that accepting. “The last one is more common among the other guys,” he warned, and I nodded my encouragement. I was a heartbeat away from wailing, “Come on already!”
“They have some abilities to communicate with the dead,” he said.
Okay. Breathe, Kris. Remember to breathe. Don’t let him know how incredibly, insanely messed up that is!
Well, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Not really. After learning that I lived in a world in which not everyone was entirely human, I really shouldn’t have been surprised that some of them could speak to the dead. Prophets and mediums—the so-called make believe—were real…whatever it was the other five percent of Nathan was. Again, I wondered what that was. Before I could ask, he walked away.
He was the master of avoidance. I wondered if that was a special trait.
As I hurried after him, I tossed around a few ideas on how to handle these new revelations. Indifference? Fear? I thought about throwing a tantrum, complete with kicking and screaming, just for laughs.
That was it. Humor would work. I opted to react with my always-dependable wit, and just a touch of sarcasm. “So, you’re actually kind of boring, huh? I mean, compared to the others.”
He didn’t respond, but I knew he heard me.
“Sure, you’re a fighting, shooting Mr. Fix It, mountain-climbing, rabbit-wrangling Rain Man,” I sang to his back, “but you can’t predict the future or talk to the dead. If you ask me, you got a raw deal.”
That earned me a glare tossed over his shoulder. “I’m happy with what I got.”
I chuckled. Under my breath and to his back. Not his face. I wasn’t that stupid. And I was alone. In the woods. With a man capable of killing. I would know.
At least the humor approach had worked. The added awkwardness brought on by the subject matter evaporated, leaving us with the usual amount of awkwardness. He didn’t ask me about my reaction, and I didn’t ask him for any more details. Maybe later, after I had time to absorb all that he had told me. It was a lot to digest for now—inherited specialties, superior strength and speed, slowed aging process, and of course the not-all-human part.
On second thought, I probably should have run, kicking and screaming, a long time ago.
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