Chapter Eight


I wake to stiff muscles and a sore ache in my lower back. I sit up frowning rolling one shoulder until it pops, and feels better. Too much time hunched over un-naturally last night scrubbing floors and bathtubs with Libby.

The sun is well past up. I do not remember when I have slept so long before. But since I was most often woken by reversal serum in a place that never had windows I have little to go by.

I slide from my bed, catching sight of the little bird on the edge of my dresser and the picture Libby drew last night tucked against the rim of glass. Trinkets, memories. Friends? I have never had any of them before.

I stare down at the bare wood under my toes frowning at the dirt staining the sides and tops of my feet. I lean my hand against the top of the bed lifting one foot. The sole is near black. I must have gotten them dirty again cleaning the floor the night before. Failed to notice when I went to bed. I grab clothing and slip down the hall to the bathroom running just enough water in the basin to rinse and scrub them clean once more then I dress and head downstairs.

There is a loaf of something that smells sweet and faintly earthy on a red plate covered by a white cloth in the kitchen. A hand scribbled note telling me to 'eat this' –B.

I hold it in my hands staring at the words. Two things occurring to me simultaneously. The first is that I am not even remotely hungry; the thought of eating makes my stomach turn, almost sick. And the more important of the two: Bryn can read too. I crumple the note in my fist and move towards his bedroom intent on finding him, but he is not there. I slip on the second pair of shoes I now own sitting in the entryway and open the front door.

Warm air instantly curls against my skin, and a breeze lifts the shorter hairs playing around my face, I shove them behind my ears forcefully and move toward the only other place I know to look when the yard is empty and the truck still parked out front. The barn.

Bryn is indeed in the barn but I don't stomp up to him the way I envisioned in my head demanding to know why it was okay for him to read but doing so almost meant that I had to be sent away… The words die in my throat upon seeing him and my mouth is suddenly bone dry. For a man with so many issues with me being naked, he seems to have no problem losing his shirt.

I draw his attention by calling his name, keep my eyes fixed firmly to his face avoiding his eyes and his bare chest and the sweat clinging to it which makes my head feel a bit warm and dizzy at the same time. He glances at me and keeps loading boxes into the back of the blue truck. "You are leaving again?" I ask when he fails to speak. The silence clawing at my insides.

"Not right now, two days." He says grunting hefting another wooden crate into the back. "Libby will stay with you again."

"I can take care of myself." I tell him lifting my chin. Though I do wish to see Libby again, she makes it easy to forget where I have been, and the awful way I feel too much sometimes.

He pauses for a moment, not meeting my eyes. "Yeah, well Libby can't."

She seemed capable enough to me. I frown certain he is twisting this on me somehow. "You said I needed a knife." I remind him, searching for something to say instead of this silence.

"Have to wait," Bryn says grabbing his shirt off the truck's wooden edge and shaking it out to slide back over his head. I watch the muscles in his chest bunch and flex under smooth tan skin with his head trapped in the material unable to catch me looking. "There was an attack last night, storm got Geeks all stirred up. Wasn't just here." He starts to walk away from me and I follow.

"You are going somewhere now?"

He nods. "To a farm about three miles from here, won't be gone long. Couple hours."

I know what hours are; the prospect of them suddenly seems very long. "I will go with you."

Bryn frowns shaking his head. "No, you should stay here." He's moving towards his truck hand already reaching for the handle. I decide to be honest, since lying hurts so much.

"I do not wish to be alone." I say.

Bryn pauses staring over the truck's roof for a moment with his hand still lifting the silver handle to pop open the door. He sighs not looking at me. "Fine, get in."

I do not know how far three miles are, but I wait until it would seem inconvenient for him to turn back around before I ask him about the note.

"What about it?" He asks staring out the glass.

"You can read," I point out thinking it should be obvious. He makes no response to that, and I am not sure what else to say, or how this relates to the words Libby spoke on the subject. "Were you snatched off a gold plated doorstep?" I repeat staring at him.

Bryn snorts. "No, my mother was a teacher in the old world. She taught me and Ethan and Libby; their little sister too."

I thought Libby was only looking at the bright color photos of her magazines, but now I realize she was reading them as well. I am struck by another thought. "Libby has a sister?" I turn to him wondering why I have not gotten to meet her yet.

His jaw tightens still staring out the glass as the truck turns down a drive on the right. "Not anymore." Is all he says. I'm struck with the sudden desire to wrap my arms around Libby like she did to me the night before, it was comforting beyond words. I wish to return the favor now. I tell him as much.

"You act like you've never been hugged before." He says then closes his eyes for just long enough I start to worry he will crash the truck. He opens them again and mumbles, "never mind," and his voice is gruff.

"Hugging is what you're supposed to do when someone is upset," I tell him, but my voice tilts up at the end all on its own, asking for conformation of my assumption.

"Yes," is all he says.

"If I was upset," I find myself saying staring at my hands in my lap. "Would you hug me?" I glance at him and catch his eyes as the truck pulls to a stop. He stares at me for a long moment, those honey ocher orbs even guarded and unreadable still making my stomach go fuzzy and warm.

"Yes," he says then turns to leave the truck. "…and that's all it could be."

I am not certain I was supposed to hear the last part.

It makes my stomach fall.


The farm we are at is very different then Bryn's. For starters this one is used to actually grow things. Long rolling fields of different crops and an expansive unevenly shaped area of unequal grass banked by a pond stretch out around me. The whole thing is ringed by a stand of wires stretched between wooden roughly shaped poles. Sharp points jutting out every few inches off the wire; some with bits of hair and blood stained cloth stuck to them.

When I reach out to touch one with my hand Bryn snatches my hand back squeezing my fingers, "That might be hot." He tells me letting go. Then he adds, "Electric, it might be turned on," noting my expression.

I nod. "I was wondering why it did not look like a stove." I tell him.

Bryn snorts and starts to walk away. "I swear sometimes you're just hamming this up."

I don't know what that means, so I follow him.

We move down to the pond's edge where something large and unevenly shaped rises up from the trampled red stained grass. It is massive whatever it is…and chewed on. I feel my nose twitch. Bad smells. The air is ripe with them.

I gag and Bryn shoots me a look that's almost sympathetic.

"Bryn!" a male voice calls.

"Hey Burt, Looks like you had some trouble."

"Yeah, lost another one to those damn Freaks." Burt tells him moving closer to us a shotgun strapped over his back just like Bryn's. "Weird thing is storm must have drove them completely Apeshit cause they tore each other apart too."

"You sure?" Bryn frowns.

"Yeah, aint no doubt…they were definitely long dead before last night…and well something ripped them limb from limb…just wish it would have happened before they got the cow." He purses his lips.

"Pack of dogs?" Bryn says moving towards the dead cow. A black swarm of flies rising up when he draws near. "No tracks," Burt says. "Damndest thing, but I guess we all be real careful 'til we know for sure."

Bryn nods, "Best keep your girls inside 'til we suss this out."

Burt nods turning to tilt his head at me, eyes still on Bryn. "Speaking of girls."

"Charlie this is Burt, Burt; Charlie." There's a warning in Bryn's eyes I don't fully comprehend. Not that it matters a moment later…

"I think, I'm going to be sick." I manage and bolt away into the taller grass before hitting my knees.

"Well, you work fast don'tcha boy?" Burt laughs and for some reason when I catch sight of Bryn's face through the tall grass still leaned over the cow he goes very red and his jaw clenches tight.

I wrestle with my stomach for a few moments, but it's not feeling very cooperative and refuses me any relief. I stand back up hands coated in wet mud from the night before. I almost wipe it on my pant legs but think better of it moving to the water's edge to rinse them instead.

"They make a tea for that," Burt is telling Bryn conversationally. I wonder what tea has to do with dead cows bending down to splash my fingers under the water's cool surface. I catch sight of my rippling reflection in the sunlight and something snags at a catch of memories… Bryn's hand closing over my arm and pulling me back startles me.

"Did you not hear me?" He's saying.

I stare up at him. "No." I admit.

"Stay away from the water,"

"I won't fall in." I tell him.

"It's not that, sometimes Geeks do and they can stay under for days…after a storm like last night and this," his eyes dart to the carcass still covered in flies. I try not to look. "Don't want any of them popping up and grabbing you."

"I will stay away from the water." I tell him suddenly uneasy, though it's more to do with the memory of a glowing white ball of light on a slick surface and cool water slipping over skin then fear of what might be underneath it.

"I think I will go wait by the truck," I tell him.

Bryn shakes his head, fingers tightening on my arm. "No, you'll stay with me." He lowers his voice telling me whatever is being said is for only us. "Burt already thinks you're pregnant, thanks for that. The last thing I need is you wandering off again and getting eaten by geek knows what."

"I did not mean to be such a burden," I tell him stung by his tone, snatching my arm out of his hand.

Bryn's lips purse into a thin hard line. "You're not a burden Charlie. I just rather not have you get eaten." I stare up at him the blinding sunlight forcing me to squint. "You'd probably do it just to spite me." He adds his own eyes narrowing slightly then he starts to walk away calling over his shoulder for me to follow.

"Feeling better?" Burt asks me when we cross near him once more moving towards the woods.

"Oh Yes," I tell him patting my stomach. "Much, thank you."

Bryn glares at me and grumbles all the way to the woods.


"It's like you're enjoying this," He says a few minutes later.

The woods are lovely, green and deep and cool. Full of shadows and the smell of wood and dirt and all things green. I stare at him. "What is not to enjoy?" I ask.

He purses his lips expression oddly sour for such a beautiful place. He stoops to inspect a track in the forest floor pointing me in the same direction we have already been going. "You spent too much time with Libby already," He grumbles. "She also delights in torturing me."

I stop. "I meant the trees."

Bryn stares at me for a moment. "So you're not trying to torture me?" he asks looking doubtful.

My eyes go wide. "How am I torturing you?" I ask.

"It just comes natural I guess," he says…which doesn't answer my question then he adds, "So what the hell was that about with Burt?"

I frown not certain what he means. Bryn rolls his eyes patting his stomach and saying in a higher pitched voice I guess is supposed to be mine, "Oh yes just great!"

I feel my head twist to the side, fighting a smile despite his expression. "That is not what I said…or how I said it." I tell him.

He makes a frustrated noise and moves on. "Was I not supposed to play-along?" I ask his backside following him once more.

"You weren't supposed to make him think it in the first place!" He says practically stomping his feet.

"What does it matter?" I ask. I do not know this Burt, who cares?

"It matters" Bryn says whirling on me, "because I have enough problems already and I've now had to tell him you were payment for merchandise I supplied, since everyone knows I have not been searching or even remotely interested in—"

"I do not—"

"—Understand. Yeah I know. And at some point I'm going to take a look inside that screwy head of yours and figure out exactly what scrambled your brains but for right now Burt—which means everyone in the area after a few days knowing his mouth thinks I've got a new wife at home, and I've got enough problems dealing with one—"

"You have a wife?" I ask eyes wide.

"Only on paper." He replies frowning at me suddenly.

"Who?" There was no one at the house…

"Libby."

"You're married to Libby?" I feel like I've been kicked in the gut, I try to suck in a breath but it doesn't work so well. Bryn is staring at me funny.

"It seemed best at the time," he admits wryly.

I feel I'm missing the joke... "So you and Libby…" I would never have guessed, she seemed like a little sister…

"The Fuck?! No!" Bryn snarls looking outraged and confusing me all the more.

"I am missing something." I tell the forest floor because my head is suddenly feeling a little muzzy and who knew words could do what a dead cow could not? "I might be sick." I warn him only to have him seize the back of my head and force me down to a crouch, my head pushed between my knees with a firm hand.

"I think the bread did not sit well with you," he says conversationally a moment later.

"Didn't eat it." I gasp. My insides still throwing a riot. But the twisting-sick, burn is all I get.

He grumbles something about empty stomachs. "Try breathing, that generally helps." He says sounding amused. "I am married to Libby because she turned seventeen last year, and if I did not step forward someone else would have either by choice…" his voice grows darker, "or by elected force. Ethan, Libby and I agreed it was best so we didn't risk losing her. If I had a little sister, or an older one he would do the same for us."

"I do not—"

"—Understand." Bryn cuts me off but his fingers are softer on the nape of my neck suddenly. "No, you don't and we obviously need to sit down and have a very long talk before you get me into even more trouble."

I look up at him crouched next to me and he slides his fingers through my hair pushing it off to the side so it no longer hangs in my face, his expression oddly tender for our current conversation...

"Does that mean I have to marry Ethan?" I feel myself ask, and something dark flashes across his face.

Bryn's jaw clenches. "If you would prefer." He grounds out in almost a growl. A little thrill slips through my insides watching his eyes go dark and feral suddenly.

"I would not," I tell him honestly. And his fingers tighten for the span of a single heartbeat against my skin before sliding away. But it's enough to make my stomach swirl with sensations very different than being sick…

I quickly draw in a breath garnering his full attention. "Did I put Libby in danger?" I worry.

"No, I can have more than one wife, it happens all the time." Then he frowns. "Well, not all the time…not out here." He amends quietly.

"Will you?" I find myself asking and for some reason my gut clenches waiting for his response.

Bryn is staring at me still. "You have left me little choice, for the time being. I hope you do not mind playing the role." Then an expression I can't name slides across his features once more, "…at least in public." He adds looking away from me.

I think of Libby's loud mouth suddenly and feel one side of my mouth twist up staring at him. "Will it involve being naked?" I ask.

He flushes scarlet even under his tan. "Not in public" he shoots back jerking to his feet, but not before I catch his eyes darkening further and his gaze sliding to my mouth.

Turns out lying can also be interesting...