Between Sleep and Awake

Part IX: Revenge

The robe cloaked me in memories as I plunged into a distant world.

Early morning.

Light filtering through the cotton fibers.

Warmth from two bodies laying side beside, no shame in their nudity.

The salty smell of his sweat mixed in cologne.

He pulled the sheet over our heads. The morning sunlight beamed through the crisp sheet. We simply looked at one another for what seemed like minutes. Naked, blanketed in a tent of secrecy. So close to one another, our body heat radiating and warming the air around us.

He raised his arm, resting his head in the crook of his elbow. I admired the curves of his biceps and triceps, how his infraspinatus merged into a well developed pectoralis. Even relaxed, each muscle was quite visible. Brown chest hairs curled from his navel and across his chest. Oh my G-d what a sexy man.

"Hey," he smiled. His finger tips languidly traced my jaw, my shoulder, side, hips, belly.

"Hey," my lips twitched into a radiant grin that had only ever been reserved for him and him alone.

"So... last night."

"Technically this morning, too."

"Do you think it was a mistake?" His face grew austere, his grin dissipated.

"I've never done this before," I replied after a beat.

"I doubt that, Bones," he said with a teasing grin.

"Not sex, Booth. Making love... I don't think that this could be a mistake, in spite of the consequences."

A sexy smile painted his lips. He leaned close and kissed me sensuously, then touched his forehead to mine. "I don't think it was, either."

The lights flickered and dimmed, as did the vibrancy of my memories.

I was determined that stage three wouldn't take me by surprise. By nature, I am a fighter.

The filthy robe crossed my shoulders with care not to jostle my ribcage.

As I crawled toward the chair at the other end of the room, I could feel my ribs rubbing together. From the raw intensity of the pain created by those simple movements, I supposed that the third through sixth vertebro-sternal ribs were fractured to varying degrees. Beads of sweat dampened my hair, the scent of mildew from the robe hung in the air like a dense fog. I fought nausea both from pain and the moldy robe.

A slow minute passed before I finally reached the dilapidated seat, speckled with paint with silver nails beginning to pull out at the seams. I grasped a chair leg and the cross bar between the two front ones and began to wriggle. Several times my sight descended into darkness and I had to battle for consciousness. I did not know when Eddie Prideaux's brother would return, but I knew it could be any minute. I wasn't about to become a victim. Another blanched and bloodless corpse to be dissected and boiled, taken apart and studied.

Darkness.

The black body bag was slowly unzipped by white-gloved hands revealing a wide-eyed cadaver, eyes once azure now clouded by death.

I blinked and continued wiggling the chair leg. The nail had been worked an inch out of the leg when a voice began to grow louder as Prideaux made his way down the hallway.

"Hey, Eddie... Yeah, I'm just about to take care of the doc right now..."

I began to put more force into the action of my hands, twisting and waggling as the nail worked its way lethargically from the chair.

"Good deal, good deal. Yeah... if he was awake, he'd hunt us down and shoot us between the eyes."

My hands stilled. Was he talking about Booth?

"Hey, where'd you put that box of bullets you got the other day?" I heard a click. The distinct sound of the man cocking a handgun. "Nah. I've got two bullets. Plenty."

I bent down and took the nail between my molars and pulled with all my might. The nail scratched against my teeth, digging into a filling.

The handle on the door jiggled as Prideaux laid his hand down on it.

The nail came out. I took it from my teeth and quickly wove it into the sleeve of the robe, then scrambled back several feet from the chair.

The door opened and the yellow-toothed Prideaux brother snapped his cell phone closed. He walked casually up to me, reached into his pocket and pinched snuff which he tucked between his teeth and cheek. I quickly calmed my beating heart.

Now is not the time, Brennan.

He cocked his gun and took several quick steps toward me, reached for my arm and brusquely yanked me to a standing position. His hands twisted my arm painfully behind my back.

"Today's the day to meet your maker, if you believe in that stuff."

He dragged me out of the door and down the hallway. I tripped over my own bare feet, my legs feeling wasted and weak, my head feeling like somebody was standing on my skull. The door opened and the blinding light of the sun in the sky took my vision once again. We walked to an old Ford, red and faded from the years. The door creaked then snapped sharply open. He tossed me in as if I were only half my size.

The door slammed, then he rounded to the front, climbing in and beginning the rough engine. It garbled and growled before starting down the road.

"Where are we going?"

He looked over at me, contemplating whether or not to answer. The smell of exhaust drifted through his partially opened window. "Not to the old place. FBI's watching it like a hawk. You get to be the first to try out the new lo-cal."

My fingers bent inward, touching the cold metal of the bent nail. My eyes drifted to the road. It had to be the right place. The right moment. They drifted back. His .357 was tucked into his jeans, the handle was visible and every few seconds, he would reach up and touch it self-reassuringly.

Maybe if I was quick...

His eyes shot over to me, "Don't even think about it. I know what you're thinking and you won't win. You don't got the strength to fight me."

The trees passed us at a greater speed as the Ford turned onto a rural dirt road. Gravel popped under the tires and dust billowed up, surrounding the truck in agrayish-brown veil. Through the dust, I could see an embankment cutting into the road-side. Tall firs grew up from the surroundings.

I tightened my seat belt.

My finger tips touched the cold metal once again. I kept my eyes on the road as the nail worked its way from the sleeve.

We turned onto another rural road, this one was paved with thick gravel. The Ford lacked shocks and we jounced around in our seats, effectively covering the fact that the nail was now gripped between white knuckles.

"We all die a little bit, Bones..." Pictures of people who had died at my hands flashed like a mental slide-show through my memories. Flash-Flash-Flash.

The grip on the nail weakened.

Hallucinations of my face covered in muddy, blood-soaked red ribbons. My blue eyes staring lifelessly back at me as the zipper's teeth unlocked. Flash-Flash-Flash.

The grip on the nail tightened, my teeth gritted, my head spun, my heart pulsated in my throat and chest.

Like a band-aid. I shut my eyes for a moment. They reopened and fixated on Prideaux.

Now!

My fist shot out of my sleeve. Green eyes, full of surprise and terror locked on mine before the nail plunged into his neck. Flesh snapped and blood began to ooze from the wound, spurting in time with his heartbeat. The hot sanguine fluid created a river down my arm and pooled in my armpit.

His hands reached up for his neck, then in a final attempt at revenge, his fingers began to fumble for his weapon. I sunk immediately into the seat and slammed my left foot on the gas.

With a free hand, I unhooked his seat belt.

The Ford began to peel out on the gravel, then it jerked right and tore into the trees. My hands flew up over my face as the smaller saplings whipped at the windshield, creating a web of glittering fissures in the glass. Clack-Clack-Clack-Clack!

I opened my eye in time to watch as a larger tree loomed before the vehicle. The front end slammed into the tree, my body pulled tight against the seat belt and searing pain rippled from my ribs to my back.

Prideaux was far less fortunate. His body was hurled forward from the force of the impact, his head and torso launched into the wheel. The nail was driven farther into the soft tissue of his throat. His hand dropped limply to his side.

The Ford came to a stop.

Steam rolled up from the hood of the truck.

I looked over at my companion, now laying very still, his head and upper body resting against the steering wheel. Blood soaked his clothing and was smeared all over his hands and neck.

I hesitated and watched his chest for several seconds for signs of breath being taken in. I reached out and touched his wrist. No sign of a radial pulse. I reached up to his neck. Same result.

I blinked hard, trying to focus my blurry vision.

Now is not the time to dip into the dream world.

No!

I blinked again.

Stay awake!

My head slumped to the side, my forehead rested against a cracked passenger side window.

"Tell me something I don't know about you."

"I should be getting up right now," I smiled.

"Eh. I'll tell Cam we got a call."

"But that's deceptive."

His lips brushed my collar bone. My chin. My lips.

"Something else, Bones. Something that doesn't have to do with anthropology or murder."

I followed his spine with my finger tips as I thought. I looked up. So multifaceted, those eyes of his. "I don't think I deserve you."

His fingers ran across my jaw, then over my lips. "Everyone deserves to find their soul mate."

My eye flickered open.

How long had I been unconscious? I looked over at Prideaux and touched his wrist once again. This time he was much cooler.

Eddie. When would he come searching for his brother?

How would I get away?

His cell phone. I patted each of his pockets until I found the rectangular bulge of his cell.

The screen revealed that there were two missed calls. Eddie. Ten minutes ago. Eddie. Five minutes ago. I was running out of time. No service.

I snatched the cell phone and tucked the gun into the terry robe's belt. I reached for the handle and opened the truck's door. It creaked loudly. I stretched a leg to the debris covered ground and immediately fell under the weight of my own body on weakened legs.

Where did the cell go?

I began to sift through the dried leaves and twigs that coated the landscape.

"Come on!"

As if on command, the clouds parted and the sun glimmered on the screen. I took it into my hands and began to make my way as far from the truck as possible. I half-crawled, half-stumbled into the dense forest. It would not be difficult to spot the truck from the road. And I needed out of there before Eddie Prideaux began to pursue me.

The sound of tires grinding on the road a hundred yards off brought me to my knees. I squatted behind a large fallen tree.

The car came to a halt.

"Vic? Vic!" Leaves and branches were crushed under hurried feet. The screech of the Ford's driver's-side door. Silence.

I held my breath.