by J. A. Huss
I say nothing. If she wants to talk, I’m gonna let her talk.
“And then you left me there. He—”
I wait for her to go on, but she doesn’t. “He what?” I prod.
“Forget it. It’s over. I’m not going back.” She shakes her head to emphasize this. “I’ll leave here, but I’m not going back. I’m not. I’ll kill myself first.”
I look across the room and realize I can see her in the window. It’s still dark outside and will be for hours, so the glass that surrounds this room on all sides is like a mirror. “Were you supposed to go back? After the wedding?”
In her reflection, her eyes dart back and forth, like she’s thinking hard about this question. “I don’t think I was ever getting married that day.”
“What?” I’m officially confused.
“I thought you wanted to know about Sasha?”
Interesting factoid about the marriage. But I need to keep her talking. “I want to know about you first, Syd.” She notices me in the window now too. Stealth trick over. “And what you know about the hush.”
That makes her tremble, and I have a moment of regret for bringing it up. “It does something to me,” she whispers. “Makes me feel things.”
“What things?”
“I dunno. It makes me feel out of control. It’s a trigger, I think.”
“So you know about the brainwashing they did?”
She stares at my reflection in the window. It puts me on edge a little. “I don’t understand that word.”
“Why not?”
“Because Garrett never said it.”
“Then how could it affect you?”
“I said it.”
She removes her hand from my armpit and looks at it for a moment. I take it in my hand and feel it. Much warmer. And the coloration is better too. I press down on her skin and the indent turns white, then a slight pink color returns after a few seconds. “That’s better. But I’ll need to wrap it before the blisters form. I’m one hundred percent sure it will blister. Now how did that word affect you if you never heard it?”
“Why are you being nice all of a sudden?”
I laugh. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, wildcat. This is just a debrief.”
“I hate that name.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s the word that Garrett used. And then I’d say hush in my head to make it stop.”
“Make what stop, Sydney?”
“The urges.”
“So you knew? You were aware of the trigger and that it was implanted in you?”
“I’ve been conditioned since I was three years old, Case. I’m twenty-four. I lied before. I know what you did in the army. Garrett reminded me all the time. You were PSYOPS too. You brainwashed people. You tortured them and got information. You turned them into sleepers by making them dissociate from reality. You caused them to go crazy and then you triggered them and made them do your bidding.”
“Like you?”
“Like Sasha,” she counters.
I let out a long breath. I’m not sure I’m ready for that shit. I’m really not. “You seem to know a lot about this for someone who claims to be brainwashed.”
“Claims?” she snaps. “Fuck you. You didn’t live my life. You didn’t grow up with me. You didn’t have to endure all that conditioning. That’s the innocent word you use for it, right? For the things that have to be done to people to make them into walking weapons? Walking zombies? You take away their freedom, only they never know it. You take away their free will. I know what I went through. I know what they did. I broke my conditioning six times since I was fourteen, and each time they put me back into compliance. That’s a nice innocuous word too. Do you talk about conditioning and compliance in your meetings, Case? Or do you call it what it is? Or maybe you have a nice fun slang word for it? Like—”
“That’s enough,” I growl, cutting her off.
“Why?” She turns all the way around, breaking the skin-on-skin contact we have, so she can look me in the eyes. “You don’t want to be associated with them? You want to pretend you have some justification for doing that shit? How many little girls did you steal away? How many little girls did you ruin?”
“Let’s just get this out of the way right now. I know the techniques.” She makes a disgusted face at the term, but I let it go. “I’ve used the techniques. But not on little girls and not for the reasons you think.”
“Justification,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. Maybe to cover herself or maybe just to demonstrate her disgust. “I put all my faith in you, Case. The last words you told me, I kept them in my head. It got me through so much. But now…”
“But now you know,” I say softly.
She takes a deep breath and then holds it.
“I’m not gonna say I’m innocent. I’m not. I’ve done a lot of terrible things, Sydney. But I promise you”—I try to turn her so she has to look at me again, but her body is stiff now—“I promise that I have never hurt a child on purpose.”
“On purpose?” she snorts. “You think that’s an excuse? And Sasha was a child.”
“I didn’t brainwash Sasha. Please.”
“You used her. You used her for all kinds of things.”
“She was trained for that job, Syd. She wanted to do it. She wanted her revenge. And she came through just fine.”
“So you say.”
I stop for a moment. “She is fine. She’s better than fine, in fact. She’s very successful. She’s brilliant and social. She’s put it all behind her. And maybe we can sort this out for you, Sydney. Maybe we can sort this out and you can live a normal life too.”
“She’s not fine. She’s sleeping.”
“What you deserve and what you get are almost always two very different things.”
– Sydney
I know I’m pushing his buttons, but he’s pushing mine too. Turnabout is fair play. And since he suddenly wants to talk, I’m gonna go for it. “You know what I nicknamed Garrett? I mean, if he can make me into his wildcat and have me bobbing on his cock whenever he felt like turning me on—and not in the way I’d prefer to be turned on—then I can have a name for him too. Maybe I couldn’t control him with it, but it made me feel better.” I scoot away from Case. I want clothes. It’s hot up here—getting hotter in fact, since he added wood to the stove—and he had me in his night vision for God only knows how long, but he doesn’t deserve to see me.
His look softens as I pull away and I know it’s a trick. Men like him don’t do anything without a motive. He needs information about Sasha from me. And now he’s being nice to get what he needs.
“What did you call him, Syd?”
“Don’t call me Syd.”
Case puts his hands up, a little give-up gesture. “Fine, Syd-ney. What was his name?”
I lift my chin to gather my nerve. “Soul splitter. Because that’s what he did to me. He split me in half. He took my soul—the one thing everyone has ownership over—and he gave half of it to someone else. Someone inside me that I had no control over. And you do that too. You split people in two and steal their souls. I hope one day you get split in half, Case. I do. I really do.”
Case rubs his hand down his face. “I’m making food. Let’s go eat and then we’ll get some sleep.”
“I don’t believe this act. Just so you know. I don’t believe you’re being nice to me for any reason other than you need to use me. Do you know why they do these things, Case? Do you have any idea?” I pause here. I want an answer.
He shrugs. “Power? Obviously.”
I scoff out a laugh. “Really? That’s all you have? Power?”
“I’m hungry,” he says, standing up, giving me a cue to stand up as well. I stay sitting. I’m done following the cues. “Let’s eat, sleep, and talk again in the morning.”
“Helplessness,” I say, just as he turns his back to me. “They want me to feel helpless. So they can control me. And they did a really good job, right? You came
in and I sat there begging for you to save me because I was helpless. And then I let you leave me behind and I let Garrett take me again, because I was helpless. I asked you for help out on that mountain road because I was in an accident you probably devised, and so I felt helpless.”
He walks to the stairs.
“I’m done, Case. If you walk away, I’m done. Kill me. Please. Put me down like a dog and end my misery right now.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t turn around. “What can I do to make you feel in control, then?” He looks over his shoulder at me. A snide, sidelong glance. “Tell me how to change this and I’ll do my best.”
“Save me.”
“That makes no sense. You want control? You save yourself.”
I stay silent. My speech is over. His ball now. I can’t wait to see what he does.
“I think you’re lying about Sasha. I think you need something from me and this is all a ploy. I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“Then I guess we’re even then, right?”
“I feel sorry for you. I really do.”
That cuts me deep. I’m not after pity.
“But I’m not the guy who made you into this person, Sydney. I’m the guy who can turn you back.”
And then he walks down the stairs and leaves me there. Alone, naked, and completely helpless.
I have no idea what to do, but my hand, which started out numb when I came inside, then started to tingle, is now burning.
There is nothing else to do now. I need Case on my side to take the next step. And he’s got his own agenda. That Sasha girl is his only priority. Must be nice to have people who care.
I get up and turn the lights out, ready to be done with this day, and then go back to the half-moon bed and get under the comforter. It’s soft and warm. Down, probably. I gather a pillow under my head and gaze up the windows in the ceiling. Perfect for stargazing.
I lose myself in that, dozing off. But the creak of the steps jolts me awake some time later. Case is back with a bottle of water and a tray of something that smells too good to ignore. My stomach rumbles. He smiles. I don’t smile back.
“Sit up and eat.” He walks into the room and sets the tray down on a small side table that holds the lamp. He doesn’t turn the lights on.
I’m sitting up before I realize I just followed a command. That pisses me off. When I look up at Case again, he sighs.
“I’m not trying to order you around. I’m not trying to make you feel helpless. I’m just trying to take care of you. Is that off limits too?”
His rough voice, his shirtless chest, his good looks, it’s the perfect package. When a man comes up in your time of need and says things like that, you want to melt. I want to melt.
But I know he’s lying.
It makes me so sad that the only offer I get is a lie.
He bunches up the comforter around my legs, being careful not to pull it down to expose my breasts—not that he hasn’t seen them a million times—and then gets the tray and places it on the mound of blankets.
I inhale the aroma.
“Roast,” he says, reading my mind. “And potatoes. It’s game, elk. But I know you like elk.” He pulls out a wad of gauze, some cotton balls, and medical tape from his jeans pocket and sits down next to me. “You eat with the good hand. I’ll wrap up the bad one.”
I’m still as he takes my burning hand and even though it hurts when he touches it, I don’t pull back.
I like the touch. I can’t help it.
“Eat,” he says, noticing my stillness. “It’s hot. I ate downstairs, if you’re wondering. But if you think I drugged it, I’ll eat half with you.” He smiles then. “You can feed me. Will that make you feel in control?”
I melt a little more. I might even blush. But I come to my senses and scoop up a forkful of meat and deliver it to his lips. He takes a bite, wincing, like it burns his tongue, and then he chews.
“See,” he says. That melty smile is back. “It’s not drugged. One for me, now one for you. Eat.”
I take a bite for myself and have to tuck down the moan at how good it is. I feed him another bite, and he says nothing as he wraps my hand in white gauze. He puts a cotton ball between my fingers to keep them from touching. I take more forkfuls of meat and potatoes, mostly forgetting to feed him. And when he’s finally done with my hand, I’m done with the food.
“Did that hurt?” he asks.
I nod. It hurt like fuck.
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
“What’s the point?”
“I’d know to be more careful.”
“You were careful.” He was, too. I’ve seen this done before. You don’t live up here and not know what to do with a minor case of frostbite.
“It’s a signal, Sydney. So I can tell what’s going on inside your head.”
“You really do not want to know what’s going on in my head, Case.”
He takes my tray away and puts it back on the table, then hands me the bottle of water and sits down next to me. “I really do.”
“You want to use me.”
“I just want to know you.”
“God.” I laugh, then take a drink. “Such a player.” I cap the water and lie back, pulling the blankets up to my neck.
He studies me, like I’m some sort of specimen, then stands up and unbuttons his jeans, letting them drop to the floor. He’s not hard, from the quick look I get at his junk before he slips into bed next to me. He wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me close to him. “Are you tired?”
“So tired,” I say, meaning it in more ways than one.
“I’m just the wrong guy, Sydney. That’s all I can say. I’m the wrong guy.”
“Wrong for me, you mean, right? Because you were the right guy for Sasha. You were the shining knight for her. I’m just not Sasha and that’s all you have to say.”
“You’re not Sasha. But that’s not why I’m the wrong guy. I’m just…” He drops off for a few seconds. “I’m pretty much everything you said. All of it is true. And I’d hate for you to count on me and then it just fucks you up more when I don’t come through.”
“Well, I’ve got nothing for that.” I close my eyes, the issue settled in my mind. Merric Case is not in my corner.
His hand travels up to my breasts and he fondles them for a few seconds, maybe gauging how I will react. “I had no idea you were a virgin,” he whispers. “That fucked with my head pretty bad.”
“Why?”
“Garrett and I were in the army together. We did… shit. Military shit, obviously. And none of it was good.” He stops here. Like that admission was a huge step for him. “Did Garrett tell you what we did?”
I shake my head. He did tell me some things, but I don’t want Case to stop talking. This is quickly turning more personal. And I like it. I don’t want him to go silent again. Or walk away. Or give up on me. Even if he is just using me to save his friend. I guess I have to take what I can get. “Garrett made me memorize that little speech to give you. After… you know. That’s it.”
“You didn’t deserve any of this shit, you know that, right?”
“I know that,” I whisper.
“I don’t think you do.” Case places his hand on my shoulder and turns me around. I don’t really want to face this new Case. I don’t know what he’s doing or what he wants, but I seriously can’t take any more lies. I’ll just die if this is a ploy. “It’s not your fault you were born to that Company asshole. It’s not your fault your mom died when you were born and you never had that—”
“She didn’t,” I interrupt. “Die when I was born, I mean. She died when I was fourteen. I watched it happen, actually. She was very allergic to peanuts and she was on a school field trip with me. Some kid in my class had a peanut butter sandwich. And the smell of it was strong enough to trigger her allergy. She had one of those Epipens, you know? For emergencies? But her throat swelled so fast, it didn’t work.”
He’s silent for a
few moments, like he’s thinking. “Still,” he finally says. “It’s too young to be motherless. And that sucks about your mom.”
I nod. “It messed me up. I know that’s what allowed them to control me more. I just stopped fighting. It was the second worst day of my life.”
“Second? Jesus, what was the first?”
“That night you left me, Case. That was the worst day of my life. Ever. I just slipped away after that. Being here with you now, it’s made me think clearer than any other time in my life. And I just know—even though you hated me then, and still do now—I know that if you had taken me with you, I’d have turned out different. Better, maybe.”
Case sighs as I turn away from him again. I can’t bear to see his face after that pathetic admission.
“I can’t take it back, even if I wanted to. I did the right thing for me that night. The right thing for Sasha.”
I think about this for a moment. A few moments, actually. He relaxes behind me and his breathing is deeper. Like he’s about to fall asleep. I wait a little longer, until I’m sure he is. And then I speak the words I want to say, but I’m afraid for him to hear. “You can take it back. Just say it and I’ll believe you.”
Silence.
He’s asleep.
I’m relieved and heartbroken in the same instant. So I just close my eyes and chalk it up to another pathetic Sydney failure.
“I can try to make up for it, Syd,” he says after a little while. “But I can’t take it back.” He whispers it, leaning in to kiss my head. I don’t move. I don’t want him to know I’m still awake. Because it makes me want to cry.
“When you know you’re not a man’s first choice the worst thing you can do is settle for second pick.”
– Sydney
When I wake up I’m alone in the crow’s nest. But I can smell food wafting up from below. The meat was good last night, but I’ve missed too many meals in the past couple weeks to be satisfied. I swing my feet out of the bed, put my clothes on, and wander down the stairs.
Case is talking to someone. On the phone. I guess that means he gets service up here.
I could call someone. Brett, maybe. But do I want to bring him into this? Do I want to leave this game we’re playing before it even gets started?