by Anna Sanders
“Cold.” She shivered and tried to wrap her cardigan more firmly about her, but it was still sopping with water.
“Let’s get back to the room. You can have a nice hot bath and get into some warm clothing.” Keaton slung his arm over her shoulders and led her away. She let him take care of her yet again.
“Were you trying to communicate with it before…you know?”
Winx lowered her head. “Not really. I was just talking to hear myself talk, I guess.”
“What were you saying?”
“Anything to validate what I was about to do.”
“It will get easier,” he told her, drawing her closer to him.
“I disagree.”
BIRDS HAVE WINGS; THEY’RE FREE, and they can fly where they want when they want. They have the kind of mobility many people envy.
Who had said that? Winx couldn’t put her finger on it. But she had known that kind of freedom for the majority of her life. And it was hard not to hate the Order for taking it from her.
She was sitting in a fluffy robe and staring out of the window. It was hard sleep when she had just confronted a long-abandoned ordeal. She had to commemorate it, as she’d already commemorated the murders she’d committed on Deja’s behalf. The five dermals, ones she’d given to herself, each had a name. They were her trophies.
She had removed the pouch from her duffle bag. All of her tools were cleaned in preparation for this moment. She had been avoiding it for so long; she had forgotten her silent vow to herself.
Winx took the needle and made sure that her vanity mirror was as straight as it could be. She pressed the point below her collarbone and began to color in a small, circular dot. She forced herself not to hiss from the pain.
She tapped black ink into the outer layer of her dermis until the mark was permanent. She rounded the tip until she was sure it would stay. Blood pooled around it and slid down her neck, but she merely wiped it away and returned the needle to the wound.
“What are you doing?” Keaton appeared in the mirror behind her. He looked shocked.
Winx sighed at this interruption. “Tebori. It is a type of tattooing.”
“You’re scarring yourself?”
“It’s for her. It’s for the name I didn’t know.” She pointed to the dermals. “But these names? I did know them.”
Keaton got embarrassed. He turned away from her and returned his attention to the television.
Before they left Cedar City, she would have eight more tattoos.
CHAPTER 11
KEATON AND WINX ENDED UP having to stay at the inn for three days. Every time they prepared to leave, a savage attack would interrupt their plans. Keaton refused to leave it alone. He not only saw it as Winx hardening herself; he saw it as their duty to keep whatever towns they passed through safe. It also gave him a chance to heal and recuperate from the horde he’d had to take on by himself.
After that, one or two savages were literally nothing to him—not even a pain in the neck.
They were finally ready to go at eight on Friday morning. Winx refused to stall any longer. It was time to be underway.
Keaton found himself more than once looking at the new design on Winx’s neck. The dots were quite lovely in a way, accenting the jewels there in a way he hadn’t expected, and the tribute to the savages she had ended was admirable. Yet a deeper melancholy had started to take over Winx since their mission had really started. Keaton chose not to acknowledge it, but only because he was sure she did not want to talk about it. The fact that she’d already acknowledged so much of her punishment and involvement with the Order was shocking to him.
They got into her car and buckled up. Winx looked over at him. “We have about seven hours left to drive. I can tackle this if you let me.”
“Hey. If you end up falling asleep in the seat again, we are pulling over. And either I’m driving or we’re staying in another room.”
Winx did not see either scenario as an option. Not only did she not want to let Keaton drive, she did not want to stay in close quarters with him walking around half-naked. They still did not know each other well enough for the continued arrangements. The sooner they reached his village, the more likely they would have more privacy.
She pulled away from their recent abode and toward I-15 North.
“There is something I have been wanting to ask you,” he said.
“What I got in trouble for?” Winx cut him off. Keaton grimaced. He didn’t know how Winx saw into his head so well sometimes. “You might as well know. I killed five men who had killed my sister.” Winx said it almost nonchalantly as she merged into traffic and revved up as fast at the speed limit allowed.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he said. “How did your sister die?”
She glowered. “She was murdered. I’ve just told you.”
“Yes, you said that. What I mean is, how did humans managed to kill a daevor?”
Winx chanced a look at him even while she was driving. “You serious?”
“Well, daevors can plant an idea into human’s minds. How come she didn’t…”
“Didn’t what? Keep them from raping and shooting her? It’s hard to fight when you’re facing a gun.”
“They shot her? You can be shot?”
“Of course we can be shot! Can’t you be shot?”
“Yeah, I can be shot. But I’m an animal. You have dark blood in you.”
“Dark blood can still be spilt!” Winx sounded aggravated.
Keaton sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to make her sound weak. I just don’t understand.”
Winx growled a little. “I don’t know either. Who can say what really happened? Whether or not she knew them, had trusted them once. Or if she was too stressed to concentrate. There are many possibilities.”
“So if you’re too distracted your abilities go onto the fry?”
“Anxiety affects us all. I don’t know why Deja wasn’t able to stop them. What I do know is that she was outnumbered. She had no prior combat training. And these men were disgusting.”
“I am sorry that I brought it up. I was just curious.” Keaton touched her shoulder. “Your sister was brave.”
Winx only continued to look at the road. But her voice did lose most of its roughness. “How would you know? You did not even know her.”
“No, I didn’t. But she was your sister. And I know you. You are definitely strong, I doubt any of your family wouldn’t rival that trait.”
Winx scoffed. “You don’t know me.”
“We’ve slept in the same room for four days.”
Winx glanced at him and smiled. It was an ironic smile, but it still counted. Especially because she did not do it often.
Keaton decided to leave her alone. He turned up the radio so that she could hear her music and rolled down his passenger-side window. The air held a bite to it that soothed his overheated brow. He took some time to admire the fall colors passing them by. Soon, he would be back to nature, away from the smoggiest city in America and in touch with the roots that he craved for so often since taking his leave.
WINX WISHED THAT IT WAS as easy for her to relax as it was for Keaton. Though she could not always link to him, she got impressions of his mood. She knew that he liked being around her, enjoyed her company even though she could be grumpy, and was determined to make her feel better when he thought her blue. She knew that he missed his home and that he was eager to return to them. Keaton’s spirit was a calm one. He rarely got worked up, even when Winx purposely baited him. And despite her coolness toward him, she found herself craving his Zen attitude more often than not.
Though she still hated to admit that to herself. Winx did not want to befriend the animal. She still did not want to help him. And killing savages was hurting a part of her that she did not know existed.
Winx forced herself to sing along with the song that came on the radio, squinting at the road to see it better through the strong rays of sunshine. The lyrics trilled off of her tongue easily, coming fr
om memory more than passion.
“You have a pretty voice.” Keaton’s eyes were closed and his head was leaned back against his seat, a calm smile playing over his finely crafted lips. “It’s incredibly serene.”
“Thank you.”
They quieted down again, unsure of what to say after that. Winx wasn’t good with receiving compliments, and Keaton wasn’t good with conversation. It made for a mostly quiet journey.
After about an hour, they reached Monroe, Utah. After that, there was merely a stretch of road leading them away from most of civilization. Small towns here and there, but definitely no savages. The beasts were more drawn to large groups, or drawn to the places that they had perished.
They had to stop a few times for bathroom breaks. Keaton laughed every time Winx said she had to “pee” instead of “urinate.” Winx failed to see the humor behind this, but found it hard not to crack a smile at his immaturity in its innocence. They found a gas station after another two hours, and Winx was forced to pull over and fill the tank.
Keaton got out to stretch when Winx went into the store to purchase snacks. She stocked up on anything that looked tempting.
“Is there anything you need before we go again?” she asked when she put the snacks into the back seat.
“Did you get Twinkies?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then no, I will be just fine.”
MONTROSE, COLORADO GRACED THEIR SIGHTS around 2pm. And from Montrose, Gunnison awaited them.
Keaton had found a radio station with oldies that he actually knew, and he danced comically to the Beatles, Muddy Waters, and even Queen. Winx cracked a smile more than once, even if they were reluctant ones.
They stopped to have a nice lunch around the Blue Mesa Reservoir, and Keaton delighted in the selections of seafood. Winx was awed by the many colors surrounding them—none lit up in neon.
“Now this, this is home,” he said around full cheeks of food.
Winx had to agree that the fare was delicious. But she still frowned. Around California. there were plenty of wonderful seafood places, and Keaton could have taken his pick. They had been, after all, by the ocean.
More than once, Keaton attempted to speak to her about what to expect from his family and from the pack, all the while forcing Winx to commiserate about her lost family and her own missed homeland. Though of course it was not his intention, she could not help but feel a stab of envy when he told her about his cousins and parents.
“You’ll love them,” he said. “My parents are delightful. They have such a sense of humor, you will really get a kick out of them both. And my cousin Stori, oh, she’s amazing. Such a talented musician. If she ever decided to go out into the human celebrity industry, she would be well-received. Then there’s the alpha, Ottanu. She is a wonder. Truly. Incredibly strong and loyal. And tough. You’ll like her! She’s actually a lot like you.”
Winx listened to his enthusiasm and almost wished that she could match it. Almost.
CHAPTER 12
“YOU WON’T NEED A HOTEL room here,” Keaton told her with confidence. “You can stay with me and the pack. After we find them, that is.”
“Hang on. Stay in a reserve? I’m not much of a camper,” Winx protested. “I’m more of a Marriott girl. You know, warm sheets? Big screen television? A bathroom?”
“It will be far more practical for you to stay with us. How would you reach us if something happened?”
“You can call me on my cell phone. Or even the hotel phone.”
“By the time you get from town to our camp site, who knows what could have happened? I do not mean to make this decision for you; it is just that we need to stick together for now.”
Winx wanted to fight with every fiber of her being. Camping? Who camped anymore? Camping was for people who longed to get away from city lights to see stars, but Winx hated stargazing, and all that clarity and clean air frustrated her. Not to mention the cold, mosquitoes, rabid animals, or anything else that the outdoors brought.
“You aren’t happy about this,” he pointed out with a smile.
“How could I be?” She gave him a tight smile in return to his genuine one. “This isn’t my idea of a vacation.”
“Besides, once we find them, you won’t want to leave. Trust me.” He never lost that smile that reached his eyes, a truly happy one that transformed him from above ordinary looking to quite handsome.
Winx was impervious. She chose to remain cynical and drove with a ready sigh in her chest.
They proceeded through Gunnison and found the National Park within minutes. Winx endured his high spirits all of the way. He was ecstatic, able to sniff out his pack even from the car.
“We’ll eventually have to walk. Don’t worry about your car; I know somewhere that no one will bother it. You can park and I’ll go find them.”
Winx left her car in the secluded spot of Keaton’s choosing. They both exited the car, and a fragrant rush of pine gust hit them. Winx could tell that the cold weather would endure here, promising wind, rain, sleet or snow, all manner of unpleasant botheration.
“Are you sure this…?”
“Trust me,” Keaton said again. “I know where they are. They haven’t left, surprisingly. Perhaps they have been waiting for me.”
He took a deep breath of mountain air and began to scan the area.
“All right. I will need to go find them. They are high over that ridge.” He pointed off into the distance, somewhere that Winx could not make out. “Stay here. I will be back as soon as I can.”
“How long will it take?”
He sniffed again. “Not long. I will need to secure your admittance into the pack, though. So it might be an hour or so.”
Winx glared and huffed harshly. “An hour? What did they expect? Aren’t these the same animals that sent for me?”
“Yes, but protocol and all. Anyone who knows the location of the pack and isn’t a member of the pack… er, I won’t bore you with the logistics. In short, I will be called upon to relate my story to the committee, and it will be evaluated by Ottanu. She will decide on how to act from there.”
“And if she refuses my admittance?”
“She won’t.”
“But just say that she does?” Winx pressed.
“Then…I will get you a hotel room, and the two of us will work on the savage problem ourselves. Just wait here.” He waved his hands. “All right? Promise that you will.”
It wasn’t like she was really weighing her options. She came here to get away from the lixyns. And that’s what she planned to do.
Keaton gave her a mock salute, and then walked into the thick trees. He took three long strides before using his true speed to take off into the thicket. It was so peaceful in the area that she could hear his progress for quite some time before the echoes died out and all that was left was the trail of leaves he had blazed, suspended for that moment.
Winx went to the hood of her car and climbed on top of it. The metal groaned and popped as she situated herself to lay face up on the windshield. Ignoring the bugs and other mess that had accumulated during the drive, she put her arms behind her head and looked up at the sun. It was struggling to emerge from the patch of pearl-gray clouds.
She stayed there for a long time and tried to make out exactly when the season would change for good, watching the day advance without assistance.
It was hard not to become calm in the area. Nature graced her eye, and everything was green, brown, and yellow due to impending winter. It was also quiet. No street cars, no blasting music pouring from windows, no yells and shouts from the street corner—just trees swaying and creeks flowing.
The thought that she actually might like it there assuaged her temper somewhat, but she would never admit that to Keaton. Never. He didn’t deserve to know that he might be right about something. It could go to his pretty little head.
The cold air kept her nerves alighted, yet her eyes began to droop. Keaton, at this point, had been gone for
some time. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and looked at the time. Four o’clock in the afternoon. He had been gone longer than she’d expected, especially considering his speed. Perhaps he did have a lot to relay to his pack, and they to him. But the wait was sapping her energy.
All of the effects of the long drive, the last couple of days of combat, and waiting in silence had her closing her eyes.
Just for a moment, she told herself. Just a cat nap. Keaton would wake her up when he came back.
He would find her and make sure that she was all right …
Winx fell almost instantly into a dream. She was soaring. Cold winds rushed around her, making her course rocky and uneven. She squinted her eyes in order to see better and surged on. The brilliance of her wings, red-tinted against the clear sky, began to dim when the sun became covered by a dark cloud.
The winds whipped her hair into her face, and it began to interfere with her vision. So she headed back downwards. She glided easily.
At first, the falling was blissful and controlled. Then it became erratic. Winx tried to fan her wings out to contain the falling, but all she felt was a small twitch on her back instead of a thrust of muscle. She looked around and realized that her wings were gone.
The familiar falling sent a dip into the pit of her belly, and she flailed her arms and legs uselessly. Her body was easily thrown about within the currents of heavy air.
She tried to scream, but the sound did not reach her ears. And if she could not hear herself, then who else could hear her?
She spiraled, the ground coming closer and closer and closer.
But before she hit the ground, she hit a tree. Surprisingly, the impact did not knock the air out of her lungs. In fact, the impact did nothing at all. She hung there from a branch, useless. Then another blow hit her, the slap of a tree branch. She fell the short distance to the ground, landing in a crowd of people.
No, they weren’t people. They were savages.
It should have filled her with some sort of fear. But it did nothing. She stared back up at the tree to see who had struck her.