Awoken

by Christine Pope

  “Do you know this man?” asked the guy who seemed to be the leader of the little group. “We found him in the Walmart down in Española. Claims he’s a friend of yours.”

  “I — ” What the hell was she supposed to say? Clearly, Hasan was trying to pass himself off as a mortal, which meant he probably hadn’t given them his real name. “Yes. Yes, he’s a friend. We met up by Chama.”

  Her words seemed to mollify the thick-set man, because he appeared to relax slightly. “That’s what he told us. Said you had a difference of opinion, but he needed to come speak to you.”

  Difference of opinion? That was one way of looking at it, she supposed. She nodded. “Yes. I just didn’t think — ”

  “Jordan, I am sorry about that,” Hasan said. His voice was nearly as strained as his face, and she had to hope the men who’d found him had attributed his obvious weakness to the journey he’d just undertaken, rather than realizing he was worn out because of the way Miles’s devices kept hammering away at him.

  “It’s all right,” she said quickly. The important thing was to get him inside with her, and away from the men who’d brought him here. At the moment they didn’t appear to see anything too suspicious about the situation, but she didn’t know how much longer Hasan would be able to fool them. “Come in — let’s talk.”

  Jordan stepped aside, giving him room to enter, and prayed he’d take the hint. He did, and had begun to step forward when one of the other men, a skinny guy who didn’t look much older than Jordan herself, protested, “Maybe we should talk to Shawn first — ”

  “And what?” said the leader. “She says she knows him. It’s not like they’re going anywhere…right?”

  “Right,” Jordan said firmly. “If Shawn wants to come by and meet….”

  One syllable formed in her head. She had no idea where it had come from, but she was grateful nonetheless.

  Hank.

  “…meet Hank, then he’s welcome to. Although maybe not tonight? I can tell Hank is tired, and I was just about to get some dinner together — ”

  “That’s fine,” the leader of the group told her. “I’ll let Shawn know that we have another arrival, and I’m sure he’ll want to talk to both of you in the morning, but until then…have a nice evening.”

  He touched a finger to the bill of the baseball cap he wore, and then the trio turned away and went down the steps, heading toward a pickup truck Jordan noticed was parked at the curb. She gave a little wave and did her best to smile, then shut the door behind her and locked it.

  There was Hasan. Standing still and quiet in the middle of the living room, watching her with wary but hopeful eyes…along with a sort of startled surprise that he’d been able to muster enough djinn energy to send that one all-important syllable to her.

  She couldn’t believe it. He’d come here — he’d braved Miles Odekirk’s devices — just to see her.

  What had caused such a change in him, she didn’t know. Right then, she didn’t care.

  Without thinking, she went to him, put her arms around him. At once he was embracing her as well, although she noticed immediately how weak he felt, how his arms lacked their former strength. She pulled away and looked up at him.

  “The devices — ”

  “Are most unpleasant. Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “No, of course not. Here.” She took him by the hand and led him over to the couch, watched as he settled onto it with a sigh, his eyes closing briefly. “Can I get you some water? It’s about all I have, but — ”

  “Water will be fine. Thank you, Jordan.” His eyelids lifted, and that steady blue gaze caught her, held her. “I am sorry that I am not quite myself.”

  “It’s all right. Just rest. I’ll be right back.”

  She went into the kitchen and got a glass from the cupboard, then filled it from the tap, since Shawn had assured her that the municipal water supply was perfectly safe, was fed by aquifers buried deep within these stony hills. Her hand shook as she held the glass under the faucet, and she willed herself to be calm. She still couldn’t quite believe that Hasan waited for her in the living room. What kind of an effort had it taken for him to come here, to travel those weary miles while the anti-djinn devices sapped all his energy, all his strength? Especially since they’d passed the Walmart after Brent found her and was driving her up to Los Alamos, and she knew the store was much farther from her starting point than the distance she’d walked from the 582 before catching her unexpected but very welcome ride.

  Hasan’s eyes were closed again when she returned. She debated whether she should rouse him, or set the glass down on the coffee table and wait for him wake up on his own. The decision was taken out of her hands, however, because as soon as she began to place the glass on a coaster, his eyelids fluttered open, and he gave her a weak smile.

  “Thank you,” he said, and sat up and reached for the glass. His hand shook nearly as much as hers had only a minute earlier, and she wondered once again how he’d been able to conceal the true reason for his weakness from all those men.

  She sat down on the sofa next to him. At once he reached over with his free hand and touched hers. His fingers were cold. They had never been cold before; he might be a wind elemental, but his touch had always been warm, no matter how chilly the air around them.

  God, she needed to get him out of here.

  He drank deeply of the water she’d brought, draining half the glass in one swallow. Then he put the tumbler back on its coaster. “I suppose you think I am mad.”

  “No,” she said at once. That was the last thing she would have thought of what he’d done. Determined, bold, maybe even reckless…but not crazy. “I’m…surprised. After what you said — ”

  “I know. I had time to think.” He shifted so he could see her more clearly. “I realized I had made a very grave mistake.” A pause, and then he said, “I want you to come back to Chama with me.”

  Her breath caught. All right, she couldn’t think of many other reasons why he would have come all this way, but still, to hear him state his plea so baldly caught her off guard. “Well, you need to go back,” she replied, hoping she sounded calm and matter-of-fact. She wanted to ask how in the world he’d been able to mentally give her his alias, but right now they had more important things to worry about. “If you don’t leave soon, this place will kill you.”

  “No, it will not kill me,” he told her. “I may wish to be dead because of this discomfort, but even that is not deadly. Just debilitating.”

  Those words reassured her a little, but she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit how much she hated to see him like this. He had always seemed so strong and sure, so in command of himself, that to watch him lean against the back of the couch, one hand lying limp on his knee, was to make her realize he wasn’t quite as invincible as he’d seemed. For some reason, seeing him vulnerable like this made her love him even more.

  “I cannot compel you, of course,” he said. “Even if I were in full command of my abilities, I would not do such a thing. And now….” The words drifted off, weak, hesitant. “I doubt I could make myself do more than walk down the hallway. But I needed to tell you that I was wrong. I should never have made you go. I want you to come home with me. Please tell me that you will.”

  She’d hoped he might say such things to her, had uttered little prayers to whatever gods might be listening that he would realize he had made a terrible mistake. Even so, Jordan had to force herself to understand that this was real, and not a dream born of her need. And so she needed to make sure she gave him the right answer.

  Actually, there was only one answer.

  “Yes, I will,” she said. Behind the weariness, his eyes lit up. She rested her hand on his, hoping that he might be able to take some of her warmth. Oh, dear lord, how she wanted to kiss him. He seemed so weak, though. She didn’t want to force anything on him, thought it would be better if she let him make the first move. After all, he had a far better idea of how he felt than sh
e did. Voice artificially brisk, she went on, “But we’ll have to think of the best way to do it. I don’t think we can just walk down the hill. Not in the condition you’re in.”

  “I would argue with that statement, but I fear you are right.” He shifted again, this time so he faced her. However, Jordan noted that he was careful not to move his hand from beneath hers. “Those devices…they were created by the very devil himself.”

  “No, not the devil. Just a man. A brilliant, odd man, but a man.”

  “Be that as it may. So how do you propose we slip away?”

  Good question. If only she’d been given a real vehicle. Then she and Hasan could have taken their things and driven away in the night. It wouldn’t even be stealing, not really, because she would have left a note telling the Los Alamos group where they could find their missing car or truck. But that little electric scooter could barely get around with her meager hundred and fifteen pounds on it. There was no way it could carry her and Hasan. Yes, you could argue that once you were out of this neighborhood, the way was mostly downhill…but not all of it. Española itself was fairly flat, and they’d be going back uphill once they were headed toward Velarde and the outer borders of the devices’ field of operation.

  “I’m not sure yet,” she replied. “I don’t have a car, only a scooter, and that won’t work. Lindsay said something about giving me a vehicle once I had my work assignment, but that isn’t supposed to happen for another day or so.”

  “‘Work assignment’?” Hasan repeated, looking rather offended. “Can they not even treat you as an honored guest?”

  “I don’t think that’s how it works around here. Everyone has to do their share to keep the community going. It’s fair. I don’t begrudge them that. But I do wish I had a car.”

  “I wish you did, too.”

  From the kitchen came the pungent aroma of scorched pork and beans, and Jordan stifled a curse. She withdrew her hand from Hasan’s, but apologized as she did so, saying, “I had something on the stove. I’d better go rescue it. Can you eat? It’s not much — just beans — but I think it’s better if you had something.”

  He offered her a weary smile. “Yes, some food might help. Thank you.”

  “You might not be thanking me once you’ve tasted it.”

  Her comment elicited a low chuckle. Feeling slightly heartened, she got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, then turned off the electric burner and moved the pot over to one she hadn’t used. After locating some bowls in the cupboard next to the one that contained the glasses, she scooped an equal portion of pork and beans into each bowl, then got out some spoons. As meals went, it definitely wasn’t gourmet, but she had to hope the beans would provide enough nourishment to give Hasan some extra energy.

  She’d halfway expected Hasan to have closed his eyes and dozed again, but actually he was sitting up a little straighter and looking around the townhouse’s cramped living room. “It’s very small,” he said, sounding a bit more like his old critical self.

  Jordan repressed a smile as she handed him one of the bowls and a spoon. “Well, it was just me,” she told him, and sat down on the sofa. “They probably didn’t think I needed all that much room. Anyway, I’m sure all the best places have already been handed out.”

  “Perhaps.” With a very small shrug, he took up his spoon and began to eat. From the way his brow furrowed, she got the idea that he wasn’t a big fan of pork and beans, but he didn’t comment on the food, only continued to scoop it into his mouth.

  Even if she’d been capable of creating the kind of elaborate meals he’d fed her at his house in Chama, she couldn’t have done so here, simply because she didn’t have the raw materials on hand. Well, this was only temporary. They’d eat, and then he would rest, and in the morning she’d figure out how to get the two of them away from here.

  Assuming he lasted that long.

  “Can you — can you make it until tomorrow?” she asked. “I know you said it would be all right, but — ”

  “I will be fine. The effects of the field are uncomfortable, no more. The djinn in Santa Fe had to live with these same effects for days before the rogue djinn were finally defeated and the devices could be turned off.”

  Those words reassured her somewhat, but she still didn’t want this to go on forever, or even more than a day. She’d have to get a car somehow. Unfortunately, a few rounds of playing Grand Theft Auto at a friend’s house didn’t exactly qualify her to steal a real vehicle. Anyway, she hated the idea of taking anything from the people here in Los Alamos. They’d shown her only kindness. But she was human, a fellow survivor, so of course they would be friendly to her.

  Would they be so kind if they discovered the true identity of the man she was sheltering under her roof? Jordan wished she could say so with certainty, but she just didn’t know the people here well enough to say. They’d all lost loved ones to the Heat, and possibly also to the djinn who’d hunted down the survivors. Jordan couldn’t say for sure that they’d show Hasan any true forbearance, and she simply couldn’t take that risk.

  Lindsay might be a little more understanding, simply because she’d had a djinn lover. Or no, maybe that wasn’t right. It sounded as though Lindsay’s djinn had basically tricked her into thinking she cared for him. She might have a real reason to carry a grudge. On the other hand, her djinn lover had at least saved her from having to live through the ugly aftermath of the Dying, and so she might not hate Hasan for what he’d done, at least not in the way the other inhabitants of Los Alamos most definitely would.

  “My love.”

  Jordan started and almost dropped the bowl she held. Not once had he ever used a term of endearment with her. She didn’t doubt that he cared, but to hear those words from his lips….

  “I’ve startled you, I see.” With an obvious effort, he leaned forward and set his own bowl down on the coffee table. “I am sorry.”

  “No, don’t be sorry. I — I liked hearing you say that.”

  The corners of his mouth curved upward. “I’m glad to hear it. But my love, I can see you wrestling with yourself. You do not have to concoct a grand plan this evening. Think on it, and we’ll see what we can do in the morning. I feel better now that I am here with you, and have food in my belly. I will sleep.”

  “You’ll be able to?” she asked. “Even with the devices acting on you all the time?”

  “In sleep, I will be able to escape the weariness, if only for a few hours. It would be best.”

  She nodded. “The bedrooms are upstairs, though. Will you be able to manage?”

  “If you help me.”

  Which she did, letting him hold her arm while they negotiated the staircase, his body not quite a dead weight as they went up, step by weary step…but almost. He was at the very limits of his endurance, she could tell.

  The townhouse had two bedrooms, the master and one that appeared to be a guest room, with two twin beds and a single nightstand between them. Jordan knew she couldn’t expect Hasan to cram his tall frame into one of those dinky twin beds, and so she took him to the master suite, easing him down onto the queen-size bed there. She unlaced the boots he wore and pulled them off, then hesitated.

  “That will do,” he said. “I can sleep in these clothes.”

  Color rushed to her cheeks, but she nodded. Of course he wouldn’t be thinking about doing anything else, not with the state he was in. Once they were away and safely back in Chama…well, with any luck, they’d be able to make up for lost time. A small thrill went through her at the thought.

  First things first, though.

  “Sleep, Hasan,” she told him. “I need to go down and do some cleanup in the kitchen, but I’ll be right back.”

  “Very well.”

  The words had barely left his mouth before his eyes had shut. Jordan hoped he’d been right when he said sleep would provide a welcome respite. Maybe he could get some of his strength back, and then he’d be able to help with their escape the next day.


  She tiptoed down the stairs, mind humming with plans. They had to get away from here. They just had to.

  Jordan had come back upstairs soon enough, and disappeared into the bathroom for a little while. Hasan heard water running, and realized she was washing her face and brushing her teeth. He probably should have done the same, but he lacked the strength. At least djinn never had to worry about getting bad breath.

  Or rather, they normally didn’t have to worry about such things. With the devices disrupting his body in numerous ways large and small, Hasan couldn’t hazard a guess as to whether he would need to worry about the same hygiene issues that humans did.

  He lay next to Jordan, wishing with all his soul that he possessed the strength to reach out to her, to take her in his arms. But he didn’t. He had to save all his energy for surviving, for existing from one moment to the next. That was why he hadn’t kissed her, either, even though he’d wanted nothing more than to taste her sweet mouth again.

  Soon, he promised himself. They would be away from here, and then….

  And then, he wasn’t completely sure. He wanted her. He understood that desire with every cell in his weary and aching body. But did he want her enough to commit to her for the rest of his unending days?

  That was the real question.

  Not one he had to answer now, however. He hadn’t wanted to acknowledge the hidden worry that she might not desire him, that once she’d gotten away and was among her own kind, she would realize she had made a terrible mistake, had allowed feelings to develop for someone utterly unworthy of her.

  An unfounded worry, clearly. She had taken him in without question, hadn’t revealed his identity to the men who’d brought him here. If she’d truly turned on him, she wouldn’t have reacted the way she did. That took strength, he realized, the kind of strength he was not sure he possessed. Nothing had ever been difficult for him — at least not until today, when he’d been forced to confront the loss of his djinn powers, the sapping of his body’s strength. Jordan’s strength was of a different kind, like the thin, flexible steel of a rapier. She might bend, but she would never break.