Heartless A Shieldmaiden's Voice: A Covenant Keeper Novel

by S. R. Karfelt

  Worse than forgetting her pants, last night that guard could have caught them at the pool. It certainly wasn’t like her not to sense someone approaching, especially someone with a gun. Despite that sobering fact, she smiled, remembering. The spigot had left an enormous bruise on her—Carole rubbed the spot, smiling faintly. Ted found humor in the oddest situations.

  Carole looked out the large window at the view. The fifteen foot perimeter fence and patrolling guards didn’t detract. Slender palm trees ringed the white beach in the distance, and the ocean stretched brilliant turquoise as clear as the sea glass decorating the room. Ted’s trim apartment had white walls and concrete flooring like many of the living quarters in the compound, but special care had been given to this officer’s quarters. A large orange rug filled most of the space, and photographs of the surrounding beaches covered the walls. It boasted a private bathroom, a tiny kitchen sink, a miniature refrigerator, a toaster oven, and about eight inches of counter space. Quite posh by military standards, though the table was a simple metal card table and the bed a standard issue twin complete with three inch thick mattress. Carole plopped down on it, rubbing her hands over the upgraded sheet and looking expectantly towards the door.

  It swung open and Ted took one look at her before slamming it shut behind him. This was the first time she’d seen his face in the light of day. Even angry he was a beautiful man, tall and broad, a red-head whose skin tanned beneath freckles. Ted’s full lips tilted upwards at the edges with a hint of perpetual good humor, even when angry. His face was broad and square jawed, his eyebrows dark despite waves of auburn hair curling around his head. Carole couldn’t stop herself staring at that mouth as he hissed, “What if someone had been with me?”

  “I knew you’d be alone.”

  “Come on, Carole! I didn’t know I’d be alone until Captain Jeffries realized he’d forgotten his hat in the golf cart. That was two minutes ago!”

  I knew, she thought, but shrugged rather than vocalize that. It wasn’t something she could explain at this point in their relationship. If ever.

  “Seriously, how the hell did you get—am I supposed to believe you hopped the fence in daylight and came in through the window?” She nodded, and Ted took off his hat and threw it on the little square table. Pacing, he unknotted his tie. “Right.” He frowned at her from across the room. “What if you’d been seen?”

  “I’m really good at what I do,” she supplied.

  Ted shrugged out of his jacket and placed it neatly over the back of a chair. Pins and metals decorated most of the left side. “So I’ve heard. Do you want a soda?” Voice cold, he moved to the tiny refrigerator and removed a Coke, popping the pop-top and disposing of the bit of metal neatly in the standard issue wastebasket. Holding the can up questioningly, he politely offered to share it with her.

  “A glass of water would be nice,” she said. Ted took a glass out of the lone cabinet and filled it at the tap. Opening the fridge he removed a tray of ice-cubes.

  “No ice,” Carole added. He popped the tray back in, and slammed the door a bit harder than necessary. Instead of bringing her the water, Ted set it on the counter, standing on the far side and crossing his arms.

  “Why’d you come?” his tone sounded hostile.

  The question seemed combative and she half-shrugged. “To see you in the daylight. We keep saying we’re going to stop staying up all night.”

  Taking a sip of his Coke, Ted appeared to relax. He sighed. “You’re a very resourceful stalker.”

  “I didn’t think you’d mind so much, if I came here.”

  “Carole,” he set the drink down, “if a man is going to have a stalker, it can’t possibly get any better than you. If this,” he motioned between the two of them, “gets out, it will only enhance my reputation. That would not be the case with you. You are on very thin ice after North Korea, so I really hope you trust whoever is letting you in here.”

  “Ted, I told you—”

  “I know, I know, you jumped the fence.” He smiled at her then. “You’re very—”

  “Resourceful?” she supplied.

  “Actually, I was thinking stubborn and talented.” Ted rounded the counter, moving towards her and unbuttoning his shirt.

  TED SNORED. BRIGHT sunshine blazed through the window, and he slept with eyes squeezed shut against the light, wide open mouth snoring impressively loudly. He’d eaten onions with lunch. Stretched out on his long narrow bed, Carole perched on top of him, flesh on flesh. It was the only way they fit. Laying her head on his chest, she basked in the touch of his heart. It purred just outside of hers. She lifted her head and kissed his hairy chest, right over that heart. There was a tattoo there, a blue heart. It was hard to see in the tufts of auburn curls that covered it. Scroll letters filled it, so artfully arranged that it took a moment for Carole to make out the word. Beth. Lifting a hand, she gently traced the letters. So it is your fault, Beth, she thought. The ragged edges of his heart were left by you. Carole’s lips pressed against the tattoo, and in his sleep Ted’s arm tightened around her, keeping her comfortably against his body. Caressing his leg with hers, she nestled against him. It felt like they were floating in the sunshine. The voices had spent the entire afternoon emitting only a gentle Mmmm in her head. The voices in my head love you too, she thought and grinned. Oh, Ted, I love you, the words escaped without opening her mouth. They slid from somewhere inside her own heart to Ted’s.

  Ted jerked, snorting awake. “What? What are you doing?”

  “Listening to you snore.” He’d felt it.

  He rubbed a big hand over her messy hair, then reached down and hauled her to sit across his torso. “I don’t snore. God you’re beautiful.”

  “So are you,” she told him. He laughed at her, resting a hand on either hip bone. Running his thumbs up and down those bones, he appeared to be admiring her and she flushed under his gaze.

  “You are an enigma, Carole Blank, and the most fit woman I’ve ever seen.” One hand wandered off her hip and upwards, circling the perimeter before brushing gentle fingertips across her heart. Ted’s heart beckoned like a brief whisper, and Carole gasped, certain he’d responded, but it stopped before she could fully discern the feeling. Ted jerked his hand away, sitting up. Grabbing onto his legs, Carole balanced in his lap while he craned to look at the clock.

  “I have dinner plans with General Sands, what time is it?”

  “1500 hours, Sir.” Carole balanced precariously on Ted’s mobile thighs.

  “I like the way you say that.” Ted heaved himself up, and Carole ended up momentarily airborne until he tossed her beneath him, lying on top.

  “I prefer being on top—call me traditional. You know, for the most uncomfortable bed ever made, this is actually the happiest place on earth.” Ted put a hand on either side of her face and brushed his lips across hers. For the moment, untraditional Carole Blank was in complete agreement.

  “NO! CAROLE! WE fell asleep! Get up, hon! Did I crush you? I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” she mumbled, sweaty and disoriented as Ted lifted his hairy body off hers. She didn’t ever remember sleeping during the day. She let her mind reach outside and knew it was almost 1700 hours. Ted had dinner with General Sands.

  “Get dressed. I’ll go. Ted?”

  “Hmmm?” He got out of bed all elbows and knees, leaving a series of little bruises behind.

  “Can I tell you something?”

  “You want to talk now? Oh God, Carole, you are a real woman after all, aren’t you? I have five minutes. Can we talk later?”

  “Tonight?” she grinned at him. It’s time.

  “Perfect,” he promised, and then spent an entire minute kissing her.

  Carole broke away to breathe. “I thought you didn’t have time.”

  “I don’t! Go before I throw you back down on this bed. I barely care what the General would say, but I don’t think the bed would last another round.” Carole climbed out of the rickety old bed and pulled
on her clothes quickly, tugging her sneakers onto her feet. Ted scrambled around the apartment. She went to the window, pressing fingers against the glass pane.

  “Carole! Are you nuts? You really do follow through on the illusion, don’t you? Take the door. Everyone will be down in the dining hall now.” Sensing that the hall was clear, she headed in that direction. It probably would lead to difficult questions if Ted saw her climb out the window and up the building with her bare hands, anyway. She reached for the door.

  “Carole?”

  Turning back to look at him, she smiled at the sight. One arm was through a khaki shirt, and the other through his jacket. Halves of both dangled behind him. Briefcase in hand, half full of random items, Ted shoved his tie inside, watching her.

  “Yes?” she asked, enjoying his disorientation for some reason.

  “Be careful.”

  “Not in the job description,” she said.

  Ted stopped moving for a couple seconds, eyebrows pulling together in a frown.

  “Try? For me?” The blue eyes were the exact same shade of blue as the sky outside the window.

  I love you, she thought, and smiled. The words would come easy now. Claiming his heart would come easy now. They were both ready. “Tonight at the pool?”

  Ted nodded. “Tonight at the pool. Carole? Don’t get caught.”

  COCONUT PALMS DOTTED the beach, and turquoise water met the color coordinated sky in a thin band of dark blue. Crystal clear water lapped white beach and only the sound of a helicopter ruined Carole’s solitude. Too bad we can’t meet here, she thought, wondering if Ted would be willing to risk it. Using her knife she cut into a young coconut, and drank sweet water from it. Clean. Slicing easily through the green drupe, a seashell became her spoon to scoop mounds of the gelatinous flesh from inside. She groaned, “Mmmm,” with each mouthful. Much better than woodlice! Glancing towards the path, she sighed, sensing the approach of a team. Their enthusiastic marine shouts of “Oorah!” echoed distantly through scrubby jungle.

  By the time the men appeared, running full speed towards the water, Carole was slurping her way through a third coconut. Likely three would be about as much as her stomach could take anyway. One of the men spotted her in the shade, separated from his buddies and jogged over to her.

  “Sorry. Is this your spot?”

  Shaking her head, she sucked the last bit of her meal down. “Go ahead. I’m going to swim along the shore anyway.”

  The man rubbed his stubbly chin, examining her, reminding Carole why she never wore her swimsuit around other marines. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them.

  “I think your friends want you,” she said pointedly. Nearly a dozen men were attempting to unravel an enormous plastic banner, shouting at him to help.

  Waving a hand dismissively, he said, “You can’t swim here, you know about the sharks don’t you?”

  Carole just stared at him until he added, “This is just a thing we do for Colonel White when he leaves.”

  “Leaves?” Carole’s heart seemed to leave her body, sinking somewhere through the strata of the planet and vanishing.

  The young man ran a hand down his tanned torso. “Yeah, the Colonel always makes sure the Force Recon Marines get steak his last day, not chopped steak, real steak. It’s our way of saying thanks.”

  Carole looked at the banner being unfurled. It said “Moorah” in big black and white cow-print letters.

  “When does he come back?” her voice sounded far away.

  “Shoot—not until next February. He only comes here for some old-fashioned amphibious recon training, for us I mean. He trains us.”

  Carole stood, though her legs barely felt capable of sustaining the position for long. She barely heard the man’s sharp intake of breath.

  “Hey, you might want to lock down early tonight. There’s always beer after the steak, it gets rowdy, and—well—I don’t think there’s ever been a girl on the island before.”

  A helicopter skimmed over the tree line, and a deafening chorus rose up. “MOO-RAH.” Carole didn’t look up to see Ted, she didn’t have to. She knew, and he’d known too. Just two hours ago, Ted had known he was leaving, and he hadn’t even told her. Not only had he not told her, he’d lied to her, promising to meet her tonight—to talk.

  The water was up to her thighs before she knew she was in it. Shouts of “Ooo-yah!” followed her. Diving beneath the clear water, Carole understood firsthand how a heart developed ragged edges. Betrayal.

  INHALE. CAROLE BROKE the surface of the water and obeyed. Dive. One strong stroke and her forehead brushed the ocean floor. Sharp coral scratched against her chin, snagging the length of her swimsuit and digging into her legs. Move. Arms and legs cut obediently and she slid over bits of reef and sand. Deep beneath the surface, the weight of the water held her together. There was no light there, just pressure and movement. Far away the voices made only a faint keening sound. Inhale. Carole moved to the surface. Arms caught her, wrapping tightly, holding her against a too warm body. Deep inside her head she recoiled from the pain of the touch. It burned.

  “What the hell are you doing?” A man’s voice shouted at her. Inhale. Blindly she took a deep, long breath, filling her lungs as commanded. They expanded until they could take no more. “Stop it!” he ordered, shaking her. The command to dive didn’t come, vanishing in a wave of fresh pain. The man struggled, hauling her from the water. Although his touch seared against her skin, Carole didn’t fight him, but neither did she help. Limp and suddenly exhausted, she let this stranger drag her to shore. Lying in the sand, gravity attacked, pressing against her and she couldn’t move.

  “Are you okay?” A hand shook her, then moved, exploring across her body and down an arm. She was too tired to protest. The voice seemed far away. “God, I thought the sharks had gotten you by now for sure.” A light shone in her face and pain shot through her head. She jerked away, squeezing her eyes shut. “You’re bleeding! Look at me—gah, your eyes are blood red, keep them closed.” The hands moved away and gravity stepped on her, pinning her arms and legs against the beach. “I’m going for help. Listen to me, Blank? Your name is Blank, isn’t it? I don’t dare touch you, let alone try to carry you. Stay here. Do not open your eyes, do you hear me?” Carole kept her eyes shut tight, but could still see the light from the flashlight right through her eyelids. “You’re getting sand in those cuts, wait.” The light disappeared and the hands moved away. Vaguely Carole sensed him move off. Dive. Rolling onto her stomach she planted her face in the sand, trying to obey, but her arms and legs couldn’t combat gravity.

  “Have you lost your mind?” He was back, rolling her over and jamming fingers into her mouth, digging sand out. “Be still!” he gently moved and tugged her, wrapping something around her. Against her flesh his touch burned but Carole remained cooperatively limp. It hurt far too much out of the water. She needed the pressure to hold together. One of his hands pressed softly against her forehead and the man leaned close. “The doctors will be in the officer’s quarters by now. I’ll go as fast as I can. I will come back for you. Blank? If you go back in that water again tonight, you will die.” Then he moved. Carole sensed him running towards camp, towards the officer’s quarters.

  Lying in the sand she listened to the far off keening of the voices, and longed to return to the water. If you go back into that water again tonight, you will die. She thought maybe she already had, but gravity slowly lightened its hold against her body. After long minutes Carole opened her eyes and managed to sit up. The sound of plastic crinkled against her body. Recoiling, she brushed frantically against it. The voices were far off, still making their keening sound, but plastic against bare skin was forbidden and right now it hurt. Despite the darkness and her sore eyes, she recognized the MOO-RAH banner. Desperately tearing it from her body, Carole backed away, trying to escape the memory, and the touch of plastic against raw skin. Move. Eager to obey, she moved, her feet skimming over the sand, determinatio
n increasing with each step.

  INHALE. THE COMMAND still echoed from somewhere deep in her psyche. Carole obeyed, closing her eyes briefly. They burned but the pain was fading. Dive. She shivered, needing to feel the pressure of water surrounding her. Soon, she promised herself. Standing outside a fifteen foot fence in the moonless night, it felt as though part of her still swam around the island. Inhale. Guards outside A-Shack opened the gate by hand. Two men in uniform swung the metal fence open in a slow-moving arc. Move. Distracted by the arrival of a supply truck the guards tended to their evening duty, their vigilant eyes abandoning the water pumping station. The small brick structure stood a dozen yards from the fence, typically guarded to keep the water supply safe. Carole used it as a springboard to clear the perimeter fence, as she had every night the past two weeks. This time the extra three feet of barbed wire circling the top of the fence almost brushed her back. She landed on her feet in a crouch, and ran.

  Why did I come? The thought drifted through her mind beside the ghostly command, Inhale. No lights had been turned on inside the gymnasium tonight. It didn’t matter. Light had never mattered to her. Sliding through the unlocked door and crossing the room, Carole could sense everything. Memories brushed past with every step: that broken lounge chair was the one they’d first made love on; and that one was where his heart had moved in tandem with hers for several seconds; the one propped by the wall had also broken beneath them, and Ted had laughed and rested his head against her chest; the floor near the shallow end of the pool was where he’d briefly pulled her head against his chest—before the intensity had made him move away; and the table by the planter where he’d—Carole pushed the memories away and sank to the floor. The hum of the pump and the smell of chlorine made her aching heart burn. She knew why she’d come. I came because I said I would and I would never lie to him. Their hearts were the same, but they weren’t. Ted couldn’t see in the dark. Ted couldn’t see at all.