“This isn’t your decision to make.”
“Please don’t—”
“Shut up,” I said.
Guy stared me down. The resolve in his eyes terrified me. “You can’t keep me from doing it if I want to,” he said.
“You can’t control my life!” I screamed, advancing on him. “Do you hear yourself? Do you even know what you sound like?”
“I—”
“You sound a self-entitled brat!” I roared. “Always whining, trying to get what you want, then running away when you can’t.” I trembled. “I don’t care what you think. You’re not getting your way this time. And if you even think about killing yourself to try, I’ll do things that’ll make you wish you were never born. Do you hear me?”
Guy remained silent.
“Answer me!” I screamed directly in his face.
“I understand,” he whispered.
It took everything I had to keep from pushing him into the wall.
Instead, I raised my hand as if to punch him, then collapsed against his chest.
The tears poured down my face.
When the first sobs began, Guy lifted his hands and wrapped his arms around me.
“I love you, Guy Winters,” I sobbed.
“I love you too,” he whispered.
He bowed his face into my neck.
And though a promise had been made, a world of problems had just unfolded.
The hours after the agents left were mostly spent in silence. Shell-shocked from the revelation and the conversation that had taken place, we sat in Scarlet’s cabin until the yrndion became too great, then retreated to the guest house. There, Guy and I went our separate ways—he to the window, I to the miniature table that sat in the corner near the restroom. The rift was monumental—comparable to the Earth splitting in half—but I knew it was for the better. Regardless of the distance, we both needed time to absorb the events that had taken place—and how, by my own declaration, we would proceed.
The afternoon waned on somberly. Cloud cover shifted and prevented the sun from shining on the guest house, thrusting us into a perpetual twilight that set my mind racing and twisted my stomach in knots.
Before, I hadn’t contemplated the consequences of my actions. But now, sitting here...
I closed my eyes.
I couldn’t blame myself. I’d reacted out of instinct. Of course I didn’t want Guy to kill himself, but at the same time, recklessly throwing my inhibitions to the wind when the Agency could’ve had another potential solution wasn’t the smartest idea either.
Guy shifted.
I turned my head.
He stared at me, eyes clouded with indecision. “So,” he said. “Guess we gotta decide what to do.”
I nodded.
“I…think it would be a good idea to get in touch with my father,” he said. “Or, at the very least, Amadeo.”
“Don’t you think that’ll cause problems?”
“We don’t really have any choice in the matter. I mean, where would we go?”
Austin was not an option. Even with a thousand Wipers we could never set foot in the city, let alone establish a home front. San Antonio was too far south, Round Rock or Georgetown too risky to even attempt. And Fredericksburg—I trembled at the idea of returning there, to the place where we could’ve so easily been caught.
That left only two options: rough it in the wild, or stay with the Kaldr.
“You know why I’m hesitant,” I finally said after several long moments of silence. “I mean, after what happened at the compound—”
“What’re you talking about?” Guy frowned, then paused, the idea slowly dawning on him. “Wait... You think Amadeo set me up?”
“What do you think?”
“I think Pierre is a lying, cock-sucking bastard who would say anything to turn me against the Kaldr and further the destruction of my people. Come on, Jason—you can’t believe anything that man says. There’s been a blood feud for years.”
“It was just weird how everything conveniently fit together.”
“Yeah, but just because we were flushed out of Austin by a Kaldr doesn’t mean it was caused by familial tensions.” Guy sighed. The tautness in his shoulders dispersed and his balled hands unfurled. “Look... I know we’ve had our differences, but other than you, my family’s all I’ve got. I can’t just let that go.”
“And you shouldn’t,” I said.
Considering my own past, I’d do almost anything to have a relationship with my parents.
“So it’s settled,” Guy said. “I’ll have Shadow fill the tank and we’ll leave for the ranch tomorrow morning.”
There was nothing more to be said.
Either we’d just taken a necessary risk, or we’d walked into the biggest fuckup of our entire lives.
Early the next morning—long before the sun had risen—Guy and I sat on the front porch and watched as Shadow pulled up in the truck that would take us back to Hill Country. The vehicle gassed up, the license plates swapped, the windows freshly-tinted and the oil changed—through the haze of cigarette smoke that wafted from my trembling hand, I watched the Wiper hop out of the truck and thought, upon his approach, about how much trouble he’d gone through just to ensure we wouldn’t be detected.
As Guy rose, Shadow came to a halt and extended his arm, the keys dangling from his grasp. “The tank’s full,” he said. “There’s snack foods in back, a case of water under the seat, and the vehicle’s been fully inspected with no issues found.”
“Wow,” Guy said, sounding just as shocked as I felt. “Thanks.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” I offered, rising on unsteady feet.
“Part of my job is to ensure the security of our community,” Shadow replied. “Don’t worry—it’ll come out of the company’s expenses.”
“Good to know,” Guy laughed, then stepped forward to embrace Shadow in a one-armed hug. “Thank you for everything, Shadow. Please give Scarlet our regards.”
“She never was a morning person,” Shadow agreed, “but I will.” He turned his attention to me once he stepped away from Guy, but did not approach. “Best of luck, Jason. You’ll be in my thoughts.”
“Thanks,” I said, exchanging a mere handshake before swapping places with him.
“Please don’t hesitate to contact the Agency if you run into any trouble. It’s important that you proceed carefully.”
“We know,” Guy said, to which I responded with only a nod. “Goodbye, Shadow.”
“Goodbye Guy, Jason. Safe journeys.”
He said nothing further when we turned and started for the vehicle. The sound of stairs creaking, then the front door opening and closing was the last we heard of him.
“He went through an awful lot of trouble to help us out,” I said, crushing the remnants of my cigarette beneath my shoe.
“Shadow’s a good person. Deep down, Scarlet is, too. She just doesn’t like to show it.”
“Why spoil the badass image?”
“Yeah,” Guy laughed. “There’s that.”
We clambered into the vehicle and were greeted by a fresh stream of cool air as the ignition was started. Per Shadow’s promise, an arrangement of snack foods, waters and drinks were arranged in back. I quickly liberated a soda before buckling myself in.
“So,” I said after the caffeine hit my lips. “Did you talk to your dad?”
“He knows to expect us,” Guy replied.
“Who did you talk to?”
“Papa.”
I remained silent as he spun the vehicle and pulled out of the drive. “I take it that was your first time talking to him since we left?”
“Yeah.”
“And he said?”
“That he’s glad you’re all right,” Guy said, “but that he wished he were seeing us under better circumstances. I didn’t even get a chance to talk to my dad.”
“Are you sure we’ll be welcome?”
“Amadeo said he would take care of it. Don’t worry.
Everything will be fine.”
Though I highly doubted that, I forced a nod to impress an illusion of my understanding. Guy probably didn’t see it, though. He had his sunglasses on—his eyes staring straight ahead to the road.
“Either way,” Guy continued, “we’ll be safer on the ranch, and you’ll be in a better position to learn about your powers.”
“Will you teach me?”
“Everything I know,” he said.
With that, I fell silent, and watched the sun’s rays bleed over the horizon.
The drive through Louisiana and then east Texas was uneventful. With the tank full and our provisions cared for, we had absolutely no reason to stop. Traffic was thin, the weather clear. The passage through Bastrop, while grim, was made without pause. Austin Metro was avoided entirely. It was as if the city I loved but now feared was nothing more than a dot on the map—a place that existed, but somewhere I never needed to visit.
It was late afternoon by the time we hit hill country. Immediately after climbing a hill, we were greeted by an unabashed portrayal of wildflowers. Blue bonnets extended for as far as the eye could see. It looked the postcards you’d see from out-of-state. Hello From Texas, they would’ve said.
Sadly, their beauty only served to highlight the true purpose of our return.
From his place behind the wheel, Guy sighed, then leaned forward to turn down the radio. “So,” he said. “We’re almost there.”
“How much longer you think it’ll be?”
“Half-hour, forty-five minutes tops. You’re not nervous, are you?”
“Neither of us left under the best circumstances.”
“We’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”
That was not the first, or the last time, I’d hear that from him.
The Winters’ family ranch appeared in no time at all.
When Guy pulled off the road, then exited the vehicle to open the perimeter gate, the weight of the situation hit home.
I had to remind myself that things would be fine, even if I found it annoying whenever Guy said it.
“Here we go,” I said upon sliding into the driver’s seat and rolling the truck forward. I waited for Guy to secure the gate and then join me in the truck before starting down the dirt road.
“How you holding up?” Guy asked.
“Better than I thought I would,” I replied.
As expected, our arrival attracted stares. Upon realizing it was one of the senior Winters’ vehicles, however, all work in the fields came to a halt.
Guy never could get an open welcome.
As we pulled up to the sprawling front porch, I immediately sought out Elliot Winters. He was nowhere to be seen.
“Well,” Guy said, popping the passenger door open. “Here goes nothing.”
I pulled the keys out of the ignition and slid out of the truck with far more hesitation than I would’ve liked. Beneath the malevolent eye of the Texas sun, it felt as though the entire world was on my shoulders, and the people—they were another story entirely. They stared, like hungry dogs starved for a lifetime, with unwavering eyes, beckoning questions in the midst of unprovoked aggravation.
Guy and I stepped toward the porch, soon engulfed by its shadow.
All I could hear was earth crunching under my feet.
You’re a flight hazard, I heard Scarlet whisper in my mind. You should’ve just killed him then.
I swallowed.
Sweat slicked down my neck.
Guy had just pressed his weight onto the first step when the front door opened, revealing Amadeo. “Guy,” he said.
“Papa,” Guy replied, nearly engulfing the Spaniard in his gigantic Nordic grasp. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Guy’s stepfather whispered. “You’re not out of the woods yet.” He stepped from Guy’s embrace and turned his gaze on me. “Jason,” he said.
“Sir,” I replied.
“I think it would be best if you left Guy to speak to his father alone—at least for now.”
I nodded.
Amadeo moved aside so Guy could step through the threshold.
Before my companion could disappear into the house, he turned back and offered a smile. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “Hell... with what we have, he’ll probably welcome you with open arms.”
I didn’t respond. I merely held his gaze.
With a sigh, Guy closed the door behind him.
“Something tells me I won’t like what you have planned,” Amadeo said.
“Probably not,” I replied. “You want me to tell you?”
Amadeo beckoned me toward a pair of chairs.
“So,” I finally said after I finished. “What do you think?”
Amadeo ran a hand across his forehead and sighed. “Well,” he said. “It’s a lot to think about.”
“Yeah,” I replied. “It is.”
I’d expected more. What, I couldn’t be sure, but it definitely wasn’t the it’s a lot to think about that I’d been given. Maybe it was because Amadeo was so old that I held him in higher regard, or maybe it was because I was hopeful. Either way, his words left me at a loss.
A long lapse of silence transpired. During this time, Amadeo found worth in surveying the fields and the Kaldr that wandered within them. While fall had yet to grace us, it wouldn’t be long before it was upon us. For that reason, the corn was being felled, the wheat cut and the bushes plundered. The Spaniard’s eyes were lost in their work—which would’ve spared me further consequence had the door not opened to reveal Guy.
“So?” I asked.
“He wants to speak with you.”
Of course. What would my return be without interrogation?
Standing, I brushed the dirt from my pants and straightened my shirt out before looking at Guy. His resolve was difficult to interpret. Though the hard edge along his jaw was easily visible, his eyes gave me no indication as to what I might encounter.
Without a word, I passed by and entered the ranch house. Guy closed the door behind me.
It wasn’t long until I found Elliot Winters—seated, as usual, in his sprawling armchair.
“Mr. Winters,” I said, then cleared my throat, thinking better. “Sir.”
“I have to tell you,” the elder Kaldr said. “I didn’t expect to see you again. Thank you for taking care of my truck.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so remained silent.
Elliot gestured to one if the many seats. “Sit,” he said. “You must be tired after your trip.”
“I’ll stand.”
“Very well.” He laced his fingers together and looked at me. “To start, Jason…I want to thank you for saving my son. Despite our…what you may call tumultuous relationship…he is still my son, and the fact that he still lives is something I could never properly reward.”
I waited for him to continue.
“Your presence here does give cause for concern, however. Guy says you have plans to kill Pierre in order to cure this…infection?”
“I’d like to try.” I swallowed the dry taste in my mouth. “Sir…if I may?”
He raised a brow.
“Why was I never made aware that the Wendigio was merely a legend?”
“There was never any reason to expand upon it,” Elliot said.
“But I thought it was real. The Kelda—”
“Speaks in riddles because she is alien to human consciousness.” He leaned forward. “I shouldn’t have to tell you not to believe everything you hear. But considering how naive you are to…well, everything…I suppose I can’t fault you.” Elliot stood. “I’ve agreed to allow you and my son asylum upon my property. I understand you have not been properly instructed in your abilities, but also that you may require…aid…in certain matters.”
“Sir, I—”
“You are dying even as we speak, Jason. Your heart beats poison through your veins. Eventually, you’ll weaken. Become incompetent. Frail. There is no question that you will die if I do not help you, which is why I am
welcoming you into my home.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He made me move to pass me, but stopped and pressed a strong hand on my shoulder. “The Howlers tried to divide you when Pierre accused my Amadeo of such heinous betrayal. Let go of any reservations you have toward him. He loves my son—and you—far too much to ever inflict harm.”
With that, Elliot disappeared up the stairwell, leaving me in a place I felt I could once more call home.
Tired from the trip and rife with tension, we settled into Guy’s room and fell into separate routines to decompress from a morning filled with doubt, stress, and the innate fear that we may possibly be turned away. Guy showered, pulled on briefs, fell into bed. I wandered from the bedroom, poured a glass of water, sat on the couch. The view from the eastern wing was stupendous. Rolling hills, wildflowers, wide open sky. Beneath that the ranch. The ranch hands were glorious in their strength and prowess—sentinels in that they always moved and never seemed to tire. I looked upon them and for one brief moment forgot that I was just like them.
Then I remembered.
The bite.
The kiss.
The change.
I shivered, despite the fact that it was not cold, and drew back onto the couch. Regardless, it was not enough to escape the bombardment of memories that followed.
Those poor college kids—slaughtered, mercilessly, without ever getting the chance to fight back or even run away.
I’d killed them.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it.
A knock came at the door, jolting me from my reverie.
Unsure whether or not to answer, I waited a moment to respond. When the knocks came again, I rose and started for the door, only pausing to set my glass of water down.
I looked through the peephole.
It was Amadeo.
I opened the door without question. “Hey,” I said. “Guy’s asleep right now.”
“That’s all right,” Amadeo smiled. “It was you I wanted to talk to.”
“Me?”
Amadeo nodded. “Can I come in?”
I glanced back at the threshold to Guy’s room, considered how Guy might feel, then let Amadeo in. When I thought about it, Guy probably wouldn’t care. Besides—it wasn’t as though it was Elliott. Good cop, bad cop, I reminded myself.
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