Copperback

by Hamilton, Tarah R.

  Every breath I took made the stabbing pain more intense, and I finally couldn’t stifle the cry of pain coming from my lips. I could see Job’s face change. He had been so stern, and determined to keep me away, but upon hearing me, that anguished look came back. In just an instant, he was tearing himself up about hurting me. I waited for him to come back and help me up – say he was sorry and let me go with him. He turned as if he was going to, and stopped. He was hurting inside and I knew it, but he wouldn’t come any closer.

  “No,” he said softly, barely audible over the rain outside.

  He turned back and glided out the door, letting the screen shut behind him. I lay on the floor, surrounded by wood fragments, desperately ignoring the twinge in my back that wouldn’t let up. I had to make a choice. I could stay here and use the excuse he had suggested – give in to his request and deny myself the one thing that mattered most to me. My other option was to pick myself up and go after him, hoping that I wasn’t too late. Convince him to let me come, and take the risk of being turned down again. I still needed him.

  Adrenaline took over, and I stood up, feeling the pain in my shoulder and back downgrade to a deep throb. I ran to the door, looking through the screen. He was fighting with how to get in on one leg. The crutches were nowhere in sight, probably tucked in the backseat. He had propped one hand on the wet roof and the other on the door, preparing to jump up and lower himself in. It would have worked, and I would never have caught up to him, except for the rain. His hand slipped down the slick roof, causing him to lose balance. He made an attempt to catch himself, falling back hard on his bad leg. His weight was too much, and it crumpled under his body, forcing him to the pavement, the downpour drowning out most of his screams.

  I couldn’t stand and watch him lying there. Before I could stop myself, my feet were carrying me to him through the deluge, splashing water each step of the way, as he pulled himself up slowly. His energy was depleted. Putting my head under his arm and lifting him up, I leaned most of his weight onto my injured shoulder, shooting pain down my arm again. It didn’t matter – he needed me. As I dragged him away from the door, he fought back, pulling in the opposite direction. He was relentless. He had to know it would be impossible to drive.

  “You can’t drive my car. It’s a stick, and you need your left leg for the clutch. Give me the keys!” I yelled over the rain, holding out my other hand.

  He unwillingly handed them over and let me help him to the passenger side. After he was in and the door was shut, I ran back to the driver’s side and turned on the car, listening to the pathetic engine turn over and come to life. I was thankful that, even with the rain, the car hadn’t stalled, leaving us stranded.

  The air kicked in, left on from the previous trip, making the cold rain freeze to my body. I shivered as I put the car in first and took off, turning on the headlights as I entered the street. Each time I shifted gears, I could feel the dull ache in my shoulder blade. It wasn’t as bad as I had first thought – at most, it would be sore and bruised for a few days.

  Once I had gotten the car up to gear, I turned off the cold air blasting us from the vent, and changed it to heat. I couldn’t help but look out the rear view mirror every few seconds to make sure no one was following us. My nerves calmed as we left town, headed away from Dubois – away from Big Run. The worst was over, and we were going to be okay. I had come down off my adrenaline high, and was able to look over at my passenger to see how he was holding up.

  He was cramped in the seat, with his knees drawn up from lack of leg room. Shivering as badly as me, he hugged his body with his arms, rubbing the cold away with his hands.

  “Pull the lever under your seat to move it back. It’ll let you spread out more.”

  He reached down and found it, letting the seat slide back as far back as possible. The movement caused him to tighten up, head back, grunting at the roof of the car.

  “How bad is it?”

  “I should be asking you the same,” he said through clenched teeth, changing the focus to me.

  “I’ll be fine – doesn’t even hurt.”

  I was scared that he had set himself back again. He had been doing too much all afternoon. I had pressed for him to keep going out of my own selfish reasons – insisting he come upstairs with me. It had meant so much to him to be able to stand and hold me – to kiss me without feeling like an invalid. I felt guilty for letting him get hurt.

  The heat was pumping at full blast, warming me through the wet clothes. His hands had stopped shaking enough that he moved one across my shoulder. Just his touch sent the pain down my arm again, and I reacted accordingly. He pulled his hand back at the sudden jolt.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just – I thought…”

  Glancing over, I could see that he was back to his internal anger again. He was going to spend the rest of the night beating himself up over it. He had pushed too hard. In trying to protect me, he did the exact opposite. I had no idea how far we had to travel, and I didn’t want to sit with him if he was going to be miserable the whole way.

  “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “I know why you did it. It didn’t stop me, and I’m fine now.”

  “But–”

  “I don’t want to talk about it. One more word and I’ll pull over and kick you out of the car.”

  With my sense of humor, I was working on bringing him out of his depression. It wasn’t the evening I had planned, but I still wanted to make the most of what we had.

  “So, any idea where I’m supposed to go?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Far west – Dugout Canyon. I don’t know where it is. I just know they talked about in the camps. We can find somewhere else, if you want to.”

  I would go anywhere with him, if he would let me. It was the adventure I had been looking for – the escape I had sought for years. I had no idea it would come from a stranger who would become such a big part of my life, dragging me from the shell I was hiding in and helping me feel again.

  “To Dugout Canyon it is – wherever it may be.”

  “Sure,” he said, with as little enthusiasm as possible.

  As much humor as I was trying to put back into the situation, Job had begun to suck it back out. He was done torturing himself, but was still being somber. I couldn’t pull him from whatever he was feeling. It was bugging me.

  “Alright, what is going on? I thought you would be happy we got out safe. We are both in one piece. No one is following us. We can get to this canyon and there should be lots of your people there. What is so wrong with that?”

  “I’m scared.”

  He really was. He couldn’t hide the fear in his eyes. For the first time, he was anxious over something other than me. There was still something he was hiding.

  “I’m confused. Scared of what?”

  He had come alive again, but not the way I wanted. He was upset at my constant questions. I could see he didn’t want to talk about it, but I had already triggered something in him.

  “To see them, Emily. To see the looks on their faces. To know I don’t belong there.”

  He was falling apart. His vulnerability was showing. I reached my hand out to take his, but he pulled it away. He didn’t want comfort. He wanted to be left alone. As much as I wanted to give him that, I needed to know what was really upsetting him, so I could help.

  “Why don’t you belong? Are you a Vesper and didn’t tell me? Did you do something wrong? I need to know, so I know where to go, unless you want me to drive until the car falls apart. I’ll do that, if you really want me to.” I was still trying to lighten the mood with humor. I clearly should have stopped.

  “Don’t ever say that again! I’m not a Vesper.” There was a hiss in his voice just saying the name. “I was rejected by them. I was a Sayner, and I was sent away. My life was the military. I protected my people. I never disobeyed an order in my life, including the last one I was given.”

  I was afraid to ask what it was. He was attack
ing me for asking questions. I had forgotten he hated them as much they hated him. I was willing to drop the subject, but he continued in a calmer voice. We pulled out onto another highway leading west, as he talked.

  “I was supposed to stay behind while everyone escaped our home. I should have died, like the rest of them. It was honorable to know that I had given my life to save others, but I was ordered to go. I could see the look in their eyes when I was placed in line. I could see they hated me, knowing one of them – one of their family members – would be left behind because of me.”

  “I’m sure they had a reason. You had to be someone special that could help when you got here. I’m sure they all don’t–”

  “They do, and I’m afraid to see the look in their eyes. I was a nobody – nothing. I did my job, and that was all. I wasn’t a leader, wasn’t anything special. I didn’t deserve it. That’s why I didn’t try to escape the camps. That is why I never left my previous owners, even though I was offered the chance. I didn’t want to face them, knowing where I should have been.”

  I had no idea he had been given opportunities to run and leave. He could have avoided Derrick and the torture. At any time, he could have left, but never did. I didn’t want him to think it was a punishment. “If you had stayed and died…you never would have met me. You make it sound like Derrick should have just killed you that night, like Chase should have left you in a field somewhere. Like I should have just let you die. Is that what you really want? Do you have a death wish? If so, I can turn around and leave you there.”

  “No.”

  It came out almost in a whisper. He was still having problems dealing with his guilt. As much as he cared for me, it was taking over, and it scared him.

  “Then I am going to take you to Dugout Canyon. I’ll stand by your side the whole time. If they are there and hate you, like you think – we can leave. We can go anywhere else. Just give it a chance. I think you’re blaming yourself for something that was out of your control.”

  “If they don’t take me, then we can go? Together?” His voice was still unsure.

  “Yes. Anywhere. You and me.”

  I put my hand back out to take his. This time he didn’t stop me. I gave it a small squeeze, and he squeezed back. He had gotten it out of his system, and trusted me to stay with him through everything. I had no problem being his support.

  He readjusted himself in the seat, getting comfortable in the tiny car. The movement caused another wave of pain to hit him. His hand tightened around mine. I was growing more concerned that he was hiding how badly he had hurt himself during the fiasco at the house.

  “You’re not doing so good. Do I need to stop?”

  “I’m fine – just keep driving.”

  “You know, you can lean the seat back–”

  “I said I’m fine,” he said, irritated.

  We had only been on the road a little more than an hour. The front of my shirt had mostly dried, feeling taut against me. Stiff strands of hair crunched under my fingers as I pulled them away from my face. I could feel my feet sloshing in my wet tennis shoes, surely turning my toes into prunes. The wetness of my jeans and shirt had become unpleasant, and I squirmed in my seat, pulling the back of my shirt away from my skin, where it had stuck.

  “I have dry clothes in the back. I can pull over and–”

  “I told you I’m fine. Will you just stop asking?” he said, annoyed from my constant questioning.

  “I’m not. I feel like a drowned rat.”

  “You look like one.”

  I could see he was grinning, making an attempt at being funny. I really wasn’t in the mood for jokes, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t even know what a drowned rat looks like,” I teased back.

  “Yes I do. And they taste awful.”

  I was afraid he was going back down a bad road. The last time he had talked about the camps, he had broken down. I looked over to check his expression. He was fine, except for the wrinkled nose and tongue sticking out, showing his disgust.

  “Worse than onions?”

  “No – nothing is worse than those.”

  He had a way of making me feel good when I needed it. He interlaced his fingers with mine, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb. His soft, printless hand gave me a chill, and I shivered for a moment from the sensation.

  “If you’re cold, we can pull over. You don’t have to drive all night.”

  “I just want to get a little further away till it gets dark. I’ll pull off and get a room. We can change there, and get some sleep. The only canyon I know of is the Grand Canyon, and that is going to take a few days.”

  “How are we going to get a room? Don’t you need money for one? I don’t have any.”

  “Here,” I said, handing him my purse. “In the wallet. I sold that bracelet, and Sally paid me double the first week you stayed with me. I used a little for clothes and food, but I should still have enough to cover it.”

  He reached in and pulled out the stack of bills I had crammed in there. I knew there was at least $400 left after the shopping spree.

  “You prepared for this?” he said, stuffing the cash back in the wallet.

  “Yeah.”

  “You planned on taking me, before I tried to–”

  “Turn me down? Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “My mom used to help your people escape. She died trying. I didn’t know, and when I found out, I hated her – you – for it. I didn’t want you in my house, and I begged Sally to take you. After getting to know you, I understood why she risked her life. At first, I did this because I wanted to do it for her, but now…I want to do it for us.”

  He set the purse down and took my hand again with both of his, bringing it up to his face and kissing it. Instead of the chill, like before, I could feel warmth flood through my body. His lips were so soft, I thought I may lose my concentration and wreck the car.

  He set my hand back down, but still held it tight, leaning back in the seat and closing his eyes. I drove in silence, except for the rhythmic beat of the wipers. I tried not to think about anything except the road. It was still raining, and as the light outside turned to black, it was harder to make out the lines. I could feel Job’s hand in mine, gripping at every bump in the road, letting me know he was still in pain, his easy breathing interrupted each time. The wipers were becoming hypnotic, and I knew I would have to get off the road soon, either by choice or by force.

  There were motels littering the highway as I came closer to the city. I wanted to get as far off the track as possible, in case someone would see my car and discover us. Turning off, I followed the road signs to a rundown motel with a flashing vacancy sign, barely legible from the burnt out bulbs of neon. Without waking Job, I took my purse and got out – the rain still coming down, chilled by the cold winds blowing across the parking lot.

  I paid for the room in cash, running from the lobby back to the car. Job was already awake, looking out the window at the dive I had picked.

  “Sorry it’s not any better,” I said, hoping he wasn’t upset with my choice.

  He laid his head back against the headrest, still worn out from the restless sleep.

  Pulling up to the front of the room, I was already regretting my decision. I should have sprung the extra for a slightly better motel, but it was already paid for, and the woman at the front didn’t look like she would be offering a refund anytime soon.

  Job struggled getting out of the car. He wasn’t able to hide the expression on his face. I got him in the room as quick as he could move. He didn’t have the energy he had before. It took everything he had just to get to the door. He stood hunched over his crutches, looking as though he would fall over at any time. The swelling in his left leg was already tight against his jeans. Panic was setting back in, and I starting barking orders.

  “You need to lie down. Get your leg up. I think there was an ice machine at the end. I’ll be–”

  He grabbed my arm, pulling me in to him.
I turned around to meet his gaze, inches from his face. He didn’t hesitate to lean in and kiss me, sliding his hands around my waist and holding me as close as possible. It took me by surprise, since there had been no build up this time. At first, he pressed hard against my lips, but felt me relax and softened the intensity. I put my arm around the back of his neck, begging for the forcefulness he had started with to come back. Every movement of his mouth kept pace with mine, till at last, a tingle of warmth began to develop, like an electrical current biting at my lips. I could feel the skin of his arms start to warm across my sides after a few seconds, but didn’t want to break free, hoping that it would pass. Before the heat became too intense, he let go, and I stepped back. I was dizzy and could barely focus on anything in the room other than the sound of his voice forcing back soft grunts of pain. I waited to see how long it would last this time, worried that I had held on too long and was going to ruin the moment he had created for us.

  “Just in case we get interrupted again.” He said, still catching his breath as the discomfort passed.

  I craved more. I knew I needed to wait, but it was exhilarating. His lips were like electricity on mine. Instead, I buried my head into his chest, wanting to have the next best thing – his touch.

  He wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I could barely feel the ache in my shoulder, because it was being overpowered by a new feeling. I knew I longed to be with him, but this other emotion was different in a way. It was deeper – more grounded. It still gave me butterflies in my stomach, but at the same time it was thrilling. It was a spark that was igniting something in me. I had never felt it before, but I knew what it was the moment it took over. I was falling in love with him.

  17.

  He had stripped out of his wet clothes and sat on the bed in his boxers by the time I came back with a bucket of ice and the bags from the trunk. It was a little unnerving seeing him in so little. It was really no less than the shorts he had worn before, or even the towel, but it was distracting me this time. My pulse raced just being in the room with him.