The Chemist

by Stephenie Meyer

  "I don't think that's entirely true anymore," she told him, brushing her fingers against the skin of his chest. She could feel the faint welts her nails had left.

  He inhaled sharply, both of them caught for one second in the memory, and her stomach contracted. She tried to turn her head, but he held her face still.

  "Wait," he cautioned.

  They sat motionless in the charged silence while she counted to sixty in her head twice.

  "It's dry," she insisted.

  Slowly, he lifted his fingers from her jaw. She turned to him, but his face was down as he searched the kit. He found the antibacterial spray and applied it liberally to her wound. Then he pulled out the roll of gauze and tape. Gently--and without looking her in the eye--he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger and repositioned her head. He taped the gauze in place.

  "We should sleep now," he said as he pressed the last piece tight to her skin. "We're both overwrought and not thinking clearly. We can reopen this... discussion when we're rational."

  She wanted to argue, but she knew he was right. They weren't acting like themselves. They were acting like animals--responding to a near-death experience with a subconscious imperative to continue the species. It was primitive biology rather than responsible adult behavior.

  She still wanted to argue.

  His fingers rested against the side of her neck, and she could feel her pulse begin to jump under his touch. He could, too.

  "Sleep," he repeated.

  "You're right, you're right," she grumbled, flopping back against the rumpled sleeping bag. She really was bone-weary.

  "Here." He handed her his T-shirt.

  "Where's mine?"

  "In pieces. Sorry."

  It was already too warm and stuffy inside the Humvee. She tossed his shirt aside and grinned remorsefully, feeling the glue pull. "For people with quite limited resources, we are not being very careful with our things."

  He must have noticed the lack of air circulation as well. He leaned over and opened the back hatch again. "Like I said--we're overwrought."

  He lay down next to her, and she curled into his chest, wondering if it would really be possible to sleep with him half naked beside her. She closed her eyes, trying to will herself into unconsciousness. His arms wrapped around her, tentatively at first and then, after a few seconds, more securely, almost like he was testing his resolve.

  If she'd been any less tired, she might have made the test harder for him. But despite her heightened awareness of his body and all the little volts of electricity that sparked where her nerve endings met his bare skin, she quickly drifted. As she surrendered to oblivion, one strange word circled through her head.

  Mine, her brain insisted as her thoughts faded to black. Mine.

  *

  WHEN ALEX WOKE, the sun was still bright in the west, and the sleeping bag underneath her was damp with sweat. The shadows had shifted, and a shaft of light was hitting her full in the face, albeit through the tinted window. She blinked sleepily for a minute, waiting for her brain to wake up.

  Then she came to with a jolt as she realized she was alone. She sat up too quickly, making her head ache and spin. The back hatch of the Humvee was still open, and the warm, humid air sat heavily on her skin. Daniel was nowhere in sight. Neither was his T-shirt, so she had to swiftly and silently dig into her things to find something to wear before she could look for him. It was stupid, but if she was about to run into another team of assassins, she didn't want to do it in no more than a worn tan bra. She threw on her thin, oversize gray sweater because it was the first thing her fingers touched, not because it was weather-appropriate. She pulled the PPK out of her bag and tucked it into the small of her back. As she was climbing out the open hatch, she heard the crinkle of paper under her knee.

  It was the receipt she'd written the e-mail address on. Underneath that was another neatly printed note.

  Taking Einstein for a walk. Back soon.

  She shoved the note in her pocket. Still moving quietly, she climbed out of the Humvee. Lola was sprawled out in a patch of shade beside the water and food Daniel had left. Her tail started thumping against the grass when she saw Alex.

  Well, at least with Lola there, Alex knew that there was no one else around. Alex gulped down some water, wiped the sweat from her face with the sleeves of the sweater, then shoved them up as high as they could go.

  "I don't even know which direction they went," she complained to Lola, scratching her ears. "And you're in no shape to track them down, are you, girl? Though I bet you could pretty fast if you were on your feet."

  Lola licked her hand.

  Alex was very hungry. She explored the small stash of food Daniel had brought and settled for a bag of pretzels. She would definitely need to replenish their stores tonight, but she so hated leaving a trail. Of course, there were hundreds of possible routes they could have taken to any number of destinations. But if someone were persistent enough and had a little luck on his side, he might be able to put together a pattern. She was out of carefully prepared traps and well-thought-out plans, let alone Batcaves. Her assets were money, guns, ammo, grenades, knives, a variety of venoms and chemical incapacitators, an assault vehicle, and one brilliant attack dog. Her physical liabilities included that same attention-demanding assault vehicle, one lame dog, her own somewhat lame body, one conspicuous face, one face off a wanted poster--more or less--and a lack of food, shelter, and options. Her emotional liabilities were even worse. She couldn't believe how much trouble she'd brought on herself in such a limited time. Part of her wanted nothing more than to rewind, to go back to her cozy little bathtub, her unbroken face, and her safety nets. To choose differently in that distant library and delete the e-mail.

  But if she could turn back the clock, would she? Was that life of daily terror and loneliness really such a better option? She'd been safer, yes, but still hunted. In so many ways, wasn't her new, more endangered life a fuller existence?

  She was sitting next to Lola, slowly stroking her back, when she heard Daniel's voice approaching. After the first shock of alarm, she didn't panic that he was talking to someone else. There was a special edge in his voice that appeared only when he was speaking with Kevin.

  Einstein arrived first. He ran excitedly to Alex and touched his wet nose to her hand. He exchanged a snuffly greeting with Lola, then went to get a drink.

  Daniel walked into view, striding quickly down the center of the unkempt dirt road. He had the bulletproof hat on. Beneath it, his brows were furrowed. He held the phone half an inch from his ear.

  "I'm back now," he was saying. "I'll see if she's awake... No, I will not wake her if she's still sleeping."

  Alex got to her feet, brushing debris from her backside and stretching. The movement caught Daniel's eye, and his expression shifted from annoyance to a slow, wide smile. Though she was a little exasperated, she couldn't help grinning back.

  "She's right here. Just one more second of patience, brother dear."

  Rather than hand her the phone, Daniel pulled her close for a lingering hug. With her face hidden in his chest, breathing in his smell, she smiled. But when he finally leaned away, she was shaking her head, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

  "Sorry," he said. "Wasn't thinking."

  She blew out a frustrated breath, then held her hand out for the phone. He gave it to her with a sheepish grin, his other arm still loosely around her.

  "Don't mind me, I'm just trying to keep us alive," she muttered, then spoke into the phone. "Hello."

  "Good morning. I see my idiot brother hasn't learned anything from his mistakes."

  "What's happened?"

  "Not much. A flurry of phone calls, but no one else has implicated himself at this point."

  "Then why are you calling?"

  "Because it feels like you and Daniel have an infinite capacity to screw things up. It's making me a nervous wreck."

  "Well, it's been lovely chatting--"

  "Don't g
et mad, Oleander, you know I mean Daniel. I just wish you could somehow put a leash on him."

  "He's new. He'll get it."

  "Before he kills himself?"

  "You know I can hear you, right?" Daniel asked.

  "No one likes an eavesdropper," Kevin said loudly. "Give the girl some space."

  "Here, just talk to him yourself. I'm going to sort our things out so we'll be ready to go when the sun sets."

  She handed the phone back to Daniel and freed herself. He didn't stay on much longer with his brother. They just exchanged a few insults while she walked back to the Humvee and surveyed the damage. The cargo hold was still total chaos. Well, she had plenty of time on her hands now and not much else productive to do. She pulled the PPK from the small of her back and put it away inside a Ziploc bag in her backpack. Next, she rolled up the sleeping bag and stashed it out of the way on the passenger's seat so she could locate all the stray ammo.

  She heard Daniel climb in beside her. He went to work combing the space for loose objects.

  "I am sorry," he said while he worked, not looking in her direction. "It's just, you were sleeping and Einstein was restless, and we seem so alone here. It felt normal. I guess that should have been my first clue that I was committing a crime."

  She kept her eyes on her work, too. "Imagine if you had woken up here alone."

  "I should have thought of that."

  "I remember someone recently promising me that he would ask if it was okay before he breathed."

  He sighed. "Kevin's right, isn't he? I'm terrible at this."

  She started organizing the different magazines into Ziploc bags and then sliding each into an outside duffel pocket.

  "I see what you're doing there," she told him. "You're making it so I have to either agree with Kevin or forgive you."

  "Is it working?"

  "Depends. Did anyone see you?"

  "No. We saw no signs of life aside from a few birds and squirrels. You know how most dogs chase squirrels? Einstein catches them."

  "That might come in handy if we have to live out of this Humvee any longer. I'm not much of a hunter."

  "One more night, right? We'll survive."

  "I truly hope so."

  "Er... do you want to save these?" Daniel asked, sounding confused. "Are they... walnuts?"

  Alex glanced up to see which Ziploc he was referring to.

  "Peach pits," she said.

  "Trash?"

  She took the bag from his hand and tucked it into the duffel she was reorganizing.

  "Not trash," she said. "I use them for the sodium cyanide that occurs naturally in the inner kernel of the pit. There's not much in each--I have to collect hundreds of pits to get a usable amount." She sighed. "You know, I used to like peaches. Now I can't stand them."

  She looked over and saw that Daniel was frozen in place, eyes wide. "Cyanide?" He sounded startled.

  "One of my security systems. When it reacts with the right liquid acid, it creates hydrocyanic acid. Colorless gas. I make ampoules large enough to saturate a ten-by-ten room. Pretty basic stuff. I don't have access to high-end materials anymore. It's a lot of bathtub chemistry for me these days."

  Daniel's expression evened out and he nodded like everything she'd just said was perfectly sane and normal. He turned back to collecting stray ammo. She smiled to herself.

  Alex had to admit she felt a little calmer when their gear was all organized and neatly stowed; the best thing about obsessive-compulsive disorder was the cozy high you got from a tidy space. She took stock of all the weapons that remained to her and was comforted by that as well. The earrings could not be replaced, and she was low on several compounds, but the majority of her arms were still in working order.

  For dinner they had granola bars, Oreos, and a bottle of water they shared as they sat on the back edge of the open Humvee; her legs dangled a good foot off the ground, but his toes touched. At his insistence, she took more Motrin. At least the over-the-counter pills were easily replaceable. She didn't need to be such a hoarder with those.

  "When do we leave?" Daniel asked when they'd cleaned everything up.

  She judged the position of the sun. "Soon. Fifteen more minutes, and I think it will be dark by the time we meet the main road."

  "I know I'm in terrible trouble and probably deserve, I don't know, to be in solitary confinement or something, but do you think I could kiss you until it's time? I'll be more careful with your face and your clothes, I promise."

  "Careful? That's not very tempting."

  "Sorry. It's my best offer currently."

  She sighed with mock reluctance. "I guess I haven't really got anything else to do."

  He took her face in his hands, placing his fingertips delicately again to avoid her injuries, and when his lips touched hers this time, they were so soft there was barely any weight to them at all. She still felt the buzz, the electricity under her skin, but there was an odd kind of comfort to the very gentleness of it. It was like before, like back in the kitchen at the ranch, only a little more cautious. Still, she remembered the morning vividly, and that shifted things. She considered changing the tempo, twisting into his lap and wrapping her legs around him, but she hesitated. It felt so nice just as it was. Her fingers found their way to his curls, as was rapidly becoming her habit.

  He kissed her neck, lightly tasting the places where her pulse beat beneath her skin.

  He whispered into her good ear, "One thing concerns me."

  "Just one thing?" she breathed.

  "Well, aside from the obvious."

  His mouth returned to hers, still careful, but this time more exploratory. It had been a decade, nearly, since anyone had kissed her, but it felt longer. No one had ever kissed her like this, with time slowing down and her brain stopping and all the electricity...

  "Do you want to know what it is?" he asked a few minutes later.

  "Hmm?"

  "The thing that concerns me."

  "Oh, right. Sure."

  "Well," he said, pausing to kiss her eyelids, "I know exactly how I feel about you." Her lips again, her throat. "But I'm not entirely sure how you feel about me."

  "It's not obvious?"

  He leaned away from her, still holding her face, and stared at her, curious. "We seem to share a level of attraction."

  "I'll say."

  "But is there anything more for you?"

  She stared, not sure what he was looking for.

  He sighed. "You see, Alex, I'm in love with you." He searched her face, analyzing her reaction, then frowned and let his hands drop to her shoulders. "And I can tell that you're not buying that, but there it is. Despite what my recent behavior may have implied, sex is not my end goal here. And... I guess I'd like to know what your goals are."

  "My goals?" She looked at him incredulously. "Are you serious?"

  He nodded gravely.

  Her voice sounded sharper than she'd meant it to when she answered. "I have only one goal, and that's to keep both you and me alive. Maybe, if I can do that long enough, we'll actually have a reasonable expectation of life beyond the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. Should we ever be in that happy position, I can think about having other goals. Goals imply a future."

  His frown spread from his mouth to his eyes. His brows pushed down and together. "Are things really that bad?"

  "Yes!" she exploded, her hands clenching into fists. She took a deep breath. "I thought that was obvious, too."

  The sun was setting. They should have been on the move five minutes ago. She jumped down from the Humvee and whistled for the dogs. Einstein bounded past her eagerly, ready to be back on the road. She went to pick up Lola, but Daniel was there first.

  Alex stretched and tried to focus. She felt decently rested and would probably be fine driving all night. That was all that mattered. Just making it through the night without garnering any more attention than she had to. Sending Kevin's e-mail, and then getting her little traveling circus into a less flamboyant ve
hicle. That was the limit of her ambition.

  They drove in silence for a while. It got dark while they were still on back roads. When they eased onto I-49, Alex relaxed a little. There hadn't been very many cars, and everything they had seen was old and fit the countryside. For now, she was fairly certain that no one knew exactly where they were.

  She knew she should be concentrating, but the dark road with the steady flow of anonymous traffic was monotonous, and she couldn't help wondering what Daniel was thinking. It wasn't like him to be so quiet. She thought about turning on the radio, but that felt sort of cowardly. She probably owed him an apology.

  "Um, I'm sorry if I was rough back there," she said, the words sounding very loud after the long lull. "I'm not good at this people stuff. There's really no excuse for me. I'm a full-grown adult--I should be able to hold a normal conversation. Sorry."

  His sigh didn't sound exasperated; it was more like relief. "No, I'm the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have pushed. My lack of focus landed us in this position. I will get it together."

  She shook her head. "You can't think of it that way. You're not responsible for this. Look, someone has decided to kill you. It happened to Kevin six months ago and it happened to me a few years before that. You'll make mistakes, because it's impossible to know what is or isn't a mistake until it's made. But mistakes don't mean you're guilty for what is happening. Never forget that there is a real human being who decided to put his agenda ahead of your existence."

  He thought about that for a minute. "I know what you're saying. I believe it. But I need to listen to you more closely--act like you, keep my mind on what matters. It doesn't help us to have me mooning around like a teenager, worrying about whether or not you like -like me."

  "Honestly, Daniel, I--"

  "No, no," he interrupted immediately. "I did not mean to hijack this conversation with that comment."

  "I just want to explain. If you're a teenager, I'm a toddler. I'm emotionally backward. Defective, even. I don't know how to do any of this, and while survival is obviously the priority, I'm also using it to deflect questions I should be able to answer. I mean... love? I don't even know what that is, or if it's real. Sorry, it's just... foreign to me. I evaluate things based on needs and wants. I can't deal with anything... fluffier."

  Daniel laughed his funny heh-heh-heh laugh and all the tension bled right out of her. She laughed with him, and then sighed. Everything felt less awful when she could laugh along with Daniel.