“Yes, I’ll give you that,” she said.
“And the place is virtually impregnable.”
“That’s certainly a consideration in these times of strife.”
“But,” I said in my best husband half of the house hunting team voice, “there are certainly a few drawbacks.”
“No garden,” she began. “No fresh vegetables, roses, cut flowers for the table.”
“No windows,” I continued.
“No place for the livestock.”
“No livestock at all.”
“Perhaps,” I suggested after a pause, “we should go house hunting in the spring.”
“Oh, sweetie,” she squealed, clapping her hands together and doing her best imitation of a 50’s sitcom wife, “that would be so wonderful. Do you think the children will want to move?”
“Both Weasel and Stevie are a little tired of trekking through the entire mall to walk Duke,” I said. “I think I can talk them into it.”
“And a spare room for their little friend?” she asked, referring to Merlin.
“Nothing’s too good for the missus,” I replied.
“Now that I’ve gotten my way,” she said with a bright smile, “I feel in the mood for a little hanky panky.”
“First tell me about the time you saved me,” I said.
“No. You first.”
“Mine was the first request,” I pointed out diplomatically.
“OK.” She looked at me, serious now at the recollection of the event that had brought us together. “I had been watching you for two days.”
“Why?”
“Because I was alone and you were in my little hunting territory.”
“So what did you see?”
“You were so young and strong and handsome, Mac. You made me curious. Sixteen year old girls get curious, you know.”
“What did I do that kept you watching?”
“Well for one thing, you didn’t hurt anybody or destroy anything. That was certainly unusual. And then when you went to bed, I snuck in and watched. That’s when I caught you reading a book by the light of a candle. That was a revelation. At that moment, I thought to myself, there’s a man with potential.”
“Then what?”
“On the third day you got careless and were surrounded by the dog pack. I knew you were going to die, and the knowledge hurt me.”
“Why?”
“Because back then you were this big, stupid, handsome guy, and it seemed like the world might be a little worse off without you.”
“And you risked your life for that. Waded into a dog pack guns blasting to save a guy you’d never even met.”
“Seemed like the thing to do at the time.”
“Shit,” I said, disbelieving, “you must have been in love with me.”
“Nope,” she replied. “Not quite then.”
“When?”
She stroked her chin. Pretended to think about it.
“It was the very first instant that I realized that you loved me. That was what pushed me over.”
“Which was the first time I opened my eyes and thought you were an angel.”
“You got it. You had me hooked from that moment on. End of story. Now tell me about how you saved me.”
“Then we fool around.”
“Endlessly.”
“OK, here goes. Except for a pair of bikini panties, the kind that the women in the music vids wear that are cut up their butts, you were completely naked and helpless. You were surround by fifty blood thirsty clan warriors. I was wounded, bleeding in several places from knife and bullet wounds, but I knew I had to save you.”
“Why?”
“Because of your butt. So there I was, naked save for a loin cloth, bleeding all over the place, weaponless save for a Bowie knife clenched in my teeth, facing down fifty clan soldiers…”
“Give me the serious version,” she said. “The real one.”
I had deliberately gone with a light treatment. The truth still scared me. I became pensive, thinking back. It had been several months since the Messenger attack on the compound and Sarah’s capture. Her presence by my side every day and night had helped dilute the power of the fear I felt when I had first awakened from my ordeal in the tunnel and thought she was dead. The terror and panic of that particular moment stayed with me even after her rescue. It remained even now, weaker, but still stubbornly resisting my attempts to vanquish it.
I had been awakened several nights by an insidious nightmare that she was gone, dead and buried, leaving a vast, black hole in my life. In the dream it became a truism that I would be numb, unable to experience happiness, for the rest of my life. She forgave me, in the nightmare, for not being there when she had died. But it didn’t help. I would never be complete until I saw her again, and, in the twisted world of the nightmare, I couldn’t die.
I drifted into wakefulness each time sobbing uncontrollably, filled with fear and remorse and loneliness, unsure of where or who I was until Sarah pulled me to her and wrapped me in her arms, my head between her breasts, close to her scent. That was when I knew I was awake. When I could smell her.
She held me tightly to her after the nightmares, stroking my head and telling me everything was all right. And it was…immediately. Her soothing voice and familiar smell were more powerful than the desolate dreams of my sleeping mind. She kept saving me.
“I don’t think I can talk about it yet,” I finally told her. “It was the most frightening thing I’ve ever experienced.”
“You were very brave, Mac,” she said smiling sweetly, eyes glistening. “The most courageous hero a girl could ever imagine. I knew you would come for me. Even when that filth pulled me away from the tunnel you were trapped in, I knew you’d come for me. I could feel that you were still alive.”
“I fell off my white horse a few times, Sarah,” I said. “I had a lot of help.”
“And we mustn’t ever forget that,” she said. “All those brave men, Roberto and his Cobras. James and the Disciples. Stevie. Weasel. Merlin. Our precious Duke. The fact that they helped us, that all of us cooperated, was a passage, Mac. A sign that the basest of human instincts need not reign.”
I nodded in assent, thinking of James and the Black Gangster Disciples who had fought with us at the AON Building. Roberto believing me when I told him he had traitors eating at his table. The rules said Cobras and Disciples were natural born enemies, foxes and hounds. Each had joined us to front the Messengers.
“But when we’re alone,” she continued, “walking in the woods or lying together in the darkness, I fantasize it’s just you and me against everyone else. Like when I saved you from the dogs so many years ago. Or that moment in the mall when the lights went on vanquishing the night, and you rose up and conquered my captors. And then we stood clinging to each other in the cleansing light. Sometimes I pretend that the future of the whole world lies with us—just you and me. Is that wrong, Mac?”
“Love is so damn weird,” I said. “It makes you do stuff you would never imagine doing before you found it. Or it found you. Like standing outside a collapsed tunnel with scores of clan warriors shooting at you…”
“Or facing down a 400 pound monster in a hallway with a paring knife,” Sarah said.
I smiled at her. There was no earthly reason for us to be alive. “Some cultures said that there’s a special angel that watches over lovers,” I continued. “It’s not wrong to dream that we’re special. It’s part of being in love.”
“When The Babe had you trapped in the hallway,” Sarah said, “for a few frantic instants I thought his cancer was too powerful for us. We would be consumed. Our love eaten by his disease. My whole body became cold. My insides hollow. When he slammed you into the wall and you crumpled, I saw my future as a black void.”
“That’s my nightmare,” I said, excitedly. “You’re gone and there’s nothing left for me but emptiness.”
“Is it possible we’re burning too brightly?”
“You’re su
ggesting we love each other with less intensity?”
“I don’t know.”
“You go first,” I prompted.
She wrinkled her brow and closed her eyes, shutting them tightly, making a caricature of a face in deep concentration. After a minute of effort, she opened her eyes and smiled.
“I can’t do it.”
“Then I guess we’re stuck. I can’t either.”
“Darling,” she said. “Before we start, when are you going to look at the flash drive that you received from your birth family?
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Patricia, with the book from the first word to the last, is instrumental in its creation. Her ideas, constructive criticism, and support made this a better book. Thank you to my family for their input and patience. Without Jen, Bernie, Amy, and Mike there is no published novel. I am indebted to each of you for your support, suggestions, wisdom, and encouragement. Thanks to Jerry and Social Eye Media for navigating and the ebooklaunch.com team for creating an outstanding cover.
Photography by Myrissa G.
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