by Sam Sisavath
“She’s safe. Everyone’s safe, except you.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to come back?”
“I had to.”
“But I told you not to.”
“I don’t give a shit what you told me. And stop that!”
He hadn’t realized he was moving, trying to get up, until she put one hand on his chest and pushed him back down. She clasped her other hand over his right thigh to stop the bleeding (he had forgotten about that), before feeling along his side. When she pulled her hand back, the palm was damp and bloody.
“Bad?” he asked.
She smiled. “No.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You want to know why it’s not bad?”
“Why?”
“Because you promised you wouldn’t die on me, that’s why. So it’s not bad, because ‘bad’ means you’re about to die, and you’re not going to.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Shut the hell up.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
“And I said to shut up. I’m going to keep you alive because you still have to go down to Texas, remember? One Eye. Remember him?”
Wash nodded. Or thought he did, anyway.
“That’s right, it’s still down there,” Ana said. “It’s still waiting for you. And you have to go and kill it. Remember?”
“I remember…”
“Good. So you can’t die. Not on me, and not on that blue-eyed prick. You still have to take out its other eye.”
“Yeah, I do…”
“So we’re in agreement. You’re not going to die here.”
“I’m not going to die here…”
“You’re goddamn right you’re not going to die here.”
Even as he heard her voice, her face was becoming blurry. It wasn’t just her, but also the trees and branches and canopies above her, too. He wouldn’t have been able to focus on Ana at all or know where she was in all that mosaic if not for her bright red hair, gently blowing in the cold breeze.
“Wash,” Ana whispered.
“Yeah?”
She leaned down, and, cupping his face in her bloodied hands, kissed him briefly on the lips.
I like this, Wash thought. I could spend the rest of my life doing this.
She pulled back slightly, her eyes focused on his. “Okay?”
He grinned. “Okay.”
Wash closed his eyes and concentrated on the tick-tick-tick-tick from his wrist. That, and the warmth of Ana’s hands on his cheeks, the sound of her soft breathing over him.
“It’s not bad,” he heard her say. “It’s not bad at all. We can fix this. We can fix this…”
He smiled. He wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself, but he’d be damned if he didn’t believe her anyway.
Wash let go and drifted, the tick-tick-tick-tick of the watch keeping time in his ears the entire way…
Twenty-Six
“You should be dead.”
But he wasn’t.
“But you should be.”
And yet…
“That’s beside the point.”
What was the point?
“The point is, you screwed up. Royally. You took on a fight that wasn’t yours. You went up against overwhelming numbers. You…should…be…dead.”
Yeah, yeah, Wash thought as he opened his eyes and stared at a spider spinning webs in the rafters above him. The arachnid looked bright brown with seemingly glowing yellow patches, but it took Wash a while to attribute those properties to the beams of sunlight splashing across it as it worked diligently. If it knew he even existed, the spider never bothered to acknowledge him.
But I’m alive.
Aren’t I?
He was, even if he was sore and just keeping his eyes open proved difficult. He blinked away the pain as best he could, but couldn’t ignore the heavy and persistent throbbing coming from his side, his right leg, and pretty much every other part of his body that had the capacity to feel anything.
But I’m alive.
I’m alive…
It took him a while to figure out where he was. A room, on a queen-size bed (or was it a king?) with a thick fur blanket on top of him. It was warm and comforting, and he didn’t feel like getting up. He didn’t want to get up. But he did, forcing himself to rise slightly before sliding back until he was sitting against the headboard.
A bedroom with flowery wall patterns, sunlight coming in from his left. He glanced over in that direction and glimpsed figures moving outside. He was on the second floor of a building. Noises from below as people went about their business, the din of activity drifting through the closed window with iron bars across it on the other side.
Where was he?
Wash lifted the blanket to get a better look at himself. He was wearing cotton pajamas, and when he lifted his shirt, saw fresh bandages around his waist. He didn’t have to pull down the pajamas to know there was more gauze around his right thigh. He could feel it down there over the heavy fabric.
He looked around the room again, taking everything in as fully as possible. A dresser in front of him; a shelf stacked with bedsheets and pillowcases in a corner. A nightstand to his right—
Tick-tick-tick-tick.
The watch. It was on top of the nightstand, next to a roll of fresh gauze and a handheld vanity mirror.
Wash reached over and picked up the automatic, grimacing slightly with the effort, and slipped the watch on.
Tick-tick-tick-tick.
Four beats per second. No more, no less.
He grabbed the mirror next and took a look at himself. His face was covered in stubble and he’d seen better days. His eyes were puffy, and someone had cut his hair while he was asleep. Unconscious? Half-dead? One of those. He ran his fingers through the short cut, then scratched at the facial hair for a moment. All things considered, he’d come out of the Mathison fiasco pretty well.
“You almost died,” Imaginary Old Man said in his head, with just enough of an edge to let Wash know that he was being chastised.
But I’m not.
“You should be.”
But I’m not, he thought, putting the mirror back on the nightstand.
He was tired and everything ached, and being awake hadn’t done much to ease the discomfort flowing from his side and leg. Wash lowered himself back down and pulled the blanket over him, and although the room was flooded with bright sunlight, he had no trouble going right back to sleep with the tick-tick-tick-tick of the watch in his ears.
It was dark outside his window when he opened his eyes again, but any alarm bells in his head quickly faded when he saw Ana sitting at the foot of the bed, smiling at him.
“I’m alive,” Wash said.
“Of course you are,” Ana said. She got up and walked the short distance to sit on the bed beside him. “I told you I wasn’t going to let you die on me, and I always keep my promises.”
He put his hand over hers. For some reason, he expected her to pull away, but instead Ana covered his hand with her other one.
“Mathison,” he said, and let the rest trail off.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ana said.
“What happened?”
“I got him.”
“How?”
“After I made sure you weren’t going to die on me, I went looking for the bastard. He wasn’t that far from us. Maybe thirty yards, sitting against a tree. He’d been bitten multiple times and was bleeding out, almost dead when I found him.”
Wash watched her face as she told the story, how calm and unemotional she looked. But he knew better. After everything Mathison had done—to her town, to her sister, and to her—there was no way Ana wasn’t full of emotion then and now. She just hid it well, that was all.
“He asked me to put him out of his misery,” Ana continued.
“Did you?”
She shook her head. “I made sure he knew I was there the whole time, that I would survive him. When it was over, I finished
him off so he couldn’t come back.”
“That’s…hardcore.”
“Yeah, well, fuck him.” She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed it. “He almost killed you.”
“There was another guy…”
“Kelly.”
“Is that his name?”
“Was his name,” Ana said. “We ran across each other when I was coming back for you. I slowed down after we left you and tried to hide our tracks, but he still found us. Too bad for him, as it turned out.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Shut up, I’m telling a story.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway. I heard him coming. I hid and waited until he got closer.” She shrugged. “I used the knife you gave me.”
Damn. Remind me never to get on her bad side.
“The cabin,” Wash said.
Ana nodded. “Pauline and Maggie. They were in the other bedroom the entire time you were there. Did you see them?”
He shook his head.
“Well, they heard that commotion you made,” Ana smiled. “They were shaken and scared when I found them, but they’ll be okay. They’re here with us now. Safe and sound, along with Emily.”
“Good. Good…” Wash looked around at the room. “Where are we, by the way?”
“Kanter 11.”
“Kanter?”
“Emily found your horses. Well, one of them. The big orange-brown. We put you on it and brought you back here. The only reason you didn’t bleed to death on the way over was because Kelly had a first-aid kit on him.”
“Thank God for Kelly.”
“Yeah, thank God for Kelly.”
“What about the other horses?”
“We couldn’t find them. I think we were lucky to find one.”
“I hid our supplies in the woods…”
“Where?”
“I don’t know the exact location, but I could probably find it again if I go back there in the daytime.”
“That’s going to have to wait until you’re fully healed. Even then, I’m not sure it’s worth going back for.”
“Supplies are hard to come by, Ana.”
“We can argue about it when you’re better.”
“Is that what we’re doing? Arguing?”
She shook her head. “We’re talking, now. We can argue, later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Just being reminded of his injuries made him wince a bit. “How long have we been here, anyway?”
“Three days.”
“Three days?”
“Technically, two nights and three days.”
“Where’s your sister?”
“She’s sleeping in a room across from this one. Pauline and Maggie have their own room downstairs.”
“How is she? Emily?”
Ana bit her lip and didn’t answer right away. Then, “She’ll survive. Em’s tougher than she looks.”
You both are, he thought, but said, “She’s lucky to have you looking out for her.”
“If I were a better sister, I’d never have let her be taken in the first place.”
Wash tightened his grip on her hand. “You couldn’t have seen it coming.”
“That’s the problem, Wash; I did. I just couldn’t convince the others. But I saw it coming.” She frowned. “I saw it coming, and I still let it happen.” She shook her head. “That’s not going to happen again. Never again.”
He nodded, when a jolt of pain made him grimace.
“Pain?” Ana asked.
“Yeah…”
Ana walked over to the dresser and came back with a bottle of water and some pills. “This’ll help.”
He didn’t bother asking what the pills were and washed them down with the water. He closed his eyes and took a breath.
“You trust her that much, kid?” Imaginary Old Man asked.
Yes. Yes, I do.
When he opened his eyes back up, she was hovering over him, watching him curiously. Her red hair, getting longer every day, hung around her face, and he didn’t think there was anything more beautiful in the world.
She smiled. “Come on. I’m pretty, but I’m not that pretty.”
He smiled back. “Yeah, you are.”
She leaned down and kissed him, the taste of her as inviting as anything he had ever experienced in his life. It took a while before she pulled slightly back, the tip of her nose still so close that he could have just raised himself slightly off the bed and gave it a peck. And he was tempted, but was afraid any sudden movements were only going to introduce more unnecessary pain.
“You have no idea what I want to do to you right about now,” she whispered.
“What’s stopping you?”
“You might die, for one.”
“I’m willing to take that risk.”
She kissed him on the forehead. “But I’m not.”
She lay down on the bed next to him instead, then scooted close enough that he could put his arm around her. She maneuvered the blanket until it was covering both of them, the warmth radiating from her body the most natural thing in the world.
“Go to sleep,” she whispered. “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked, unable to hide the excitement in his voice and not caring if she heard it.
“Or the night after. Or the night after that. But eventually.”
“I’m not sure I can wait that long.”
“Yes, you can,” she whispered and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Good night, Washington.”
He smiled. “Good night, Anastasia.”
And it should have been a good night, but it wasn’t.
He dreamt of the Old Man.
And of the others.
And he dreamt of the girl at the farmhouse, except instead of the girl’s voice it was One Eye hissing at him:
“He says not to keep him waiting too long, because he gets bored easily.”
He woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of Ana breathing softly next to him, her warm body still pressed against his underneath the blanket, and the ever-present tick-tick-tick-tick of the watch.
Sleep wouldn’t come no matter how many times he closed his eyes and tried to force it.
An hour passed.
Then two...
Tick-tick-tick-tick…
He stared up at the ceiling, at the house spider as it clung to its web, its brown and yellow colors visible against a stream of moonlight.
The arachnid was oblivious to him as it sat on its web and waited.
And waited…
Tick-tick-tick-tick…
“Are you sure you want to be doing this?” Marie asked.
He nodded and climbed into the Quarter Horse’s saddle. There wasn’t very much pain; either that, or the pills he’d taken before leaving the room were doing their job. “She’ll be angry, but she’ll get over it. She’ll get over me.”
“I don’t know about that. She’s been at your side since they brought you back here. I don’t think she’s left your room more than an hour in all that time.”
Wash didn’t know how to answer that, so he opted to stay quiet. Instead, he picked up the orange-brown’s reins and turned the animal toward the stable doors. “Tell her I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can put off.”
“We talked, you know.”
“About?”
“You. I have a feeling she already knows you weren’t going to wait until you got better.”
“I am better.”
“There’s ‘better’ and then there’s ‘better,’ Wash.”
“Sounds the same to me.”
“My point is,” Marie said, “I think she was preparing herself to leave with you when the time came.”
“I know,” Wash said. “That’s why I’m doing this. This way she won’t have to decide between me or taking her sister and the others home. I can’t do that to her. I won’t.”
“So this is all for her?”
“For her, for me. Does
it matter?”
“Maybe. Depends on your perspective, I guess.”
“It doesn’t matter to me,” Wash said, and hoped it was at least convincing.
The truth was, it did matter to him. It mattered a lot. But he couldn’t tell Marie that. She wouldn’t understand anyway. Even Ana wouldn’t, despite everything they had been through. It had to be this way. It just had to.
I’m sorry, Ana, but you don’t want to go where I’m going. Even I don’t want to go there, but I have to.
I have to…
“What is this thing that you need to do so badly that it can’t wait?” Marie asked.
“You don’t want to know, Marie. Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know.” Wash paused, then, “Thanks for taking care of them for me while I was out. And thanks for these,” he added, patting the bags of supplies. “I owe you. And I always repay my debts.”
“It’s not your debts I’m worried about. You’re still kind of yellow around the gills there, Mr. Slayer man.”
“That’s what the pills are for.”
Marie sighed. “I guess there’s no point in trying to talk you out of this very, very stupid thing you’re about to do.”
“You could try, but you’d just be wasting your breath.”
“So the only thing left to say is, good luck.”
“You too.”
Marie nodded at a twenty-something man, who walked over and pushed the stable doors open. Soft morning sunlight flooded inside. In less than thirty minutes the entire town would be awake, along with Ana.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Marie said, and patted the horse on the rump. “If you change your mind, you know where to find us. We’re not going anywhere.”
Wash gave her a smile and a nod before turning around and riding through the doors, then into the bright street outside.
He turned north in the road and gave the big orange-brown a swift kick in the flanks. The animal picked up speed, and soon they were racing against the sunrise to make it out of Kanter 11 before he changed his mind.
I’m coming for you, you bastard. Ready or not, I’m coming for you…
A Word From the Author
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