Author's note: Hey, everyone! To understand this story, go back and read Till The End Of The World. This is a sequel. Rated M for the occasional adult activities and some cursing. Read, review, etc, and don't forget to make your genetics your bitch! (TESTIFY!)
Shilo woke up in the helicopter some time after leaving the island. How pleasant it was for both of them to have her waking up in Graverobber's arms after sweet and peaceful dreams. Her wig was crooked, obscuring her pretty face. He smoothed the wig and then cupped her cheek, stroking his thumb on her jawline. They'd left Sanitarium Island forever, for good, to go across the sea of bodies and water for something better. Graverobber had elected to abandon his independent but ultimately isolated life to be with her and, so far as he could tell, it was worth it. It had been worth it, waiting for someone like her to come into his life, give herself to him in every way that a girl could. He hoped that he could give as much back and show that he was worth it. They'd both sacrificed with what they'd been through. Her father, Mag, Dizzy; their influences and deaths had cut little scars on her heart, and still her whole happiness didn't rely on Graverobber. She loved him, and yet could stand on her own two feet. He loved her for that.
Once she'd fallen asleep, he'd fixed headphones over both their ears so they could talk over the din of the copter blades and comprehend the words. He didn't expect silence on the way to wherever they were going.
She cast quiet, dark eyes up at him from where her head rested on his shoulder. His arm loosened. "No, keep it there," she mumbled, drowsy. Neither of them moved. A yawn escaped and shortly thereafter infected him. "Was I out long?"
"We stopped to fuel up in the middle of our destination path and then went on our merry way." She nodded her comprehension and blinked, moved her hand to idly stroke his chest. "How'd you sleep?" he asked.
"I dreamed of a field and it was dark but I wasn't scared. There were wildflowers and trees. I've never seen anything like it except in books. Think they'll have them over there?" she wondered, snuggling closer to him. He wanted to extricate himself, not used to the intimacy. He loved her but he still wanted his own space.
"Could be. Don't get your hopes up, kid." Another yawn and he stretched out his arms, successfully gaining room. 'Sides, they weren't exactly alone. When they were alone, he'd do more than hold her. Graverobber relished the thought, the images. Not too long ago, he'd thought sleeping with her was a mistake. No one, save a saint or eunuch, could resist a begging young girl and he had no doubt that, given proper encouragement, she would beg.
"Oh, I won't. Even if it's nothing but cacti and tumbleweeds, I'll be pleased," she said. "Anything's better than what we left."
A world of the dead, a world where he had a steady living and she had real influence, but she was right. That old world would crumble or survive regardless of her actions, so why drag her down to its level? There wasn't a place for Shilo in that decay.
Shilo crawled across his lap to look out his window even though there was a perfectly good window on her side. "The sky looks like paint," she said. "Was it this clear at home?"
He took advantage of the situation by looking up her skirt and lightly spanking her. She snapped her gaze in his direction. "Hey!"
"Sorry, sorry," he said, grinning.
"You're a creep, you know that?" She smoothed her ruffled skirt and moved back to her seat, clearing the fog on the window to look out.
"So?"
"So stop it!" The minx smiled. "For now."
"Deal. Check your pockets."
With confusion displayed on her furrowed brow, she said "What?" He repeated himself and the baffled girl stuck her hands in her pocket. "What…?" Fingers wrapped the prize and withdrew it from the sweater. In her hands was a necklace he'd snuck there just after they'd left; a silver circlet with a blood red sapphire at the heart of it. She gasped. He took it from her and swept her unreal hair aside.
"I saw this on a dead woman—," he started.
"What? Graves, that's revolting!"
"And bought a replica. Took all that I had and then some." He placed it carefully around her throat and took the time to murmur in her ear, "You can thank me later."
Gone was her mother's cameo, representing her dark past. He wanted to take her mind far from that, as abandoned as her old home. She touched the necklace. "It's beautiful. Too gorgeous for me."
"Nah. It suits you."
She grinned and eagerly went into chatter on how she'd been able to take most of her belongings with her, and how she could meet a President, who apparently was important, and how there would be adventures just for the two of them. He contributed a little but mostly let her talk, and boy did she have a lot to say. To his credit, not once did he tune out. Eventually, he put a finger to her lips and asked if he could tell her something.
"What is it, Graves?"
"You're sure there'll be room for me in all this talk of change?"
"Why wouldn't there be? You left for me. I won't ever let you go."
Reassured, he put his feet up and waited for the ride to end. At last, they made it to a proper stop, a light in the dark place in the form of a white lighthouse sending out light in a half-circle across the waters and surrounded by a rocky shore. It was conveniently fitted with a small port big enough for the copter to coast into. The pilot navigated their craft inside, came to a smooth landing, and the blades slowed and shuddered and stopped. Through it all, Shilo tightly squeezed her knees, presumably terrified that they'd crash and burn. When it was over, Graverobber patted her shoulder.
"You alright?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah."
"We all good back there?" the pilot checked. Graverobber said they were, and Shilo mutely nodded. "Great. Get out. I'll follow y'all later; gotta check the equipment."
The door opened into a dim garage. Shilo stuck to Graverobber's side like chewing gum under a shoe. A lantern light shone through slats in a large mechanical door, operated by a panel in the wall. Graverobber hit the panel and warily watched the door open, pushing Shilo back behind him. "Who's there?"
A bent over old fellow was on the other side, holding a lantern with a gnarled arm. He scowled, his glassy eyes scrutinizing them both. "You the Wallaces?" he asked.
"I'm a Wallace," Shilo said, stepping out and offering her hand. He looked at it and then at Graverobber. "This is my friend."
"That so?" He sighed. "Well, there's room for two. You'll be spending the night here, and then someone will see to you. Don't ask who cause I haven't the faintest idea." Raising his lantern to see them better, he sniffed disapprovingly. "So this is Miss Wallace. Can't say I'm impressed. Ah well. Follow me." He turned and began his walk, taking them down what seemed to be endless winding stairs. They finally stopped, Shilo out of breath, at a small room fitted with cupboards and a table with five unsturdy chairs. "Get yerself something to eat. I'll come back when the arrangements are done."
He went away and left them in the dark. "Graverobber, I'm scared of the dark," Shilo hissed, stumbling on a chair.
"Wait." He searched in his pocket and struck a match, found a candle on the table and lit it, cupping his hand until the flame was steady. "What a piece of work, huh, kid?"
"He doesn't like us much." She sat on the table, not trusting the chairs. "What's in the cupboards?"
He checked. "Oh, sundries." He tossed her a baguette and a plastic container of red jelly. "There. Make yourself something nice."
Graverobber continued looking and found a bag of jerky. They were surprised at their hunger and split the food, sating their appetites. Shilo had to be told what jerky was. They found bottles of water and he could've sworn it tasted cleaner than the water back on the island. It made sense. That water had to be contaminated by industrial run-off and the ever present dead.
Shilo burped and looked appalled. "I'm sorry!"
He laughed and reached over to tap her on the head. "I'll forgive you this time." To one-up her, he chugged what was left of his water and sat back in his chair. The belch he let out was impressive.
Shilo cracked up and bent across the table to grab his ears and press her nose to his, wiggling. "You're adorable."
"Kid, you can't call a man adorable. It isn't done." And he stole a kiss, eventually hauling her onto his lap, knocking aside everything they'd had on the table. The floor creaked. The creepy old man was back, clearing his throat. Needless to say, they stopped in their tracks.
"If you're quite finished, your lodgings are prepared," the codger said.
"Oh. Oh, that's great," Shilo said, getting off the table, flashing quite a bit of leg in the process.
Further down the stairs he led them, no sign of the pilot behind them, and even with the lantern's light, it was awfully dark. They were taken to a wooden door.
"Bed's big enough for two," the man sniffed. "One night, understand?" And before either of them could speak, he left them there, by the door.
"What's with the stick up his ass?" Shilo grumbled.
"Think he has skeletons in his closet?"
"Oh, yeah. Tons. That's why he keeps us in the dark."
In the dark, he pushed her against the door and kissed her neck, tasted the silver that he'd put there. "Still scared, Shilo?"
Her pulse beat hard and fast. "A little."
"Good." He reached behind her and turned the knob, giving her room to steady herself so she wouldn't fall when it opened. A candelabra by the door, how thoughtful. He lit it. There was, indeed, a bed. Again, he turned on her, closing the door shut behind her and looming. "Now, where were we?"