CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Song: Riders on the Storm by The Doors

Day Six

Waking up, he heard the sound of rain starting to hit the roof of the house. There was no light coming through the window, probably due to the rain clouds, but he guessed that it was still quite early in the morning. Another day stuck inside. At least he felt vindicated about all the work they had done yesterday by bringing inside the entire wood pile, but now due to the rain, it would also probably be the last of the wood. Even the tree he had considered as a backup for firewood would now be soaking wet. They were going to have to conserve what was left of the woodpile for the next four days. He was not worried about the final day since he would be extracted then, and keeping Star warm would no longer be a concern.

With that thought, he moved his right arm just enough so that he felt her skin under his arm. Wait, her skin?

Opening his eyes, he looked at Star's sleeping form, trying to pull something from his memory. That's right, she had gotten all squirmy during the night and woken him up with her moving. He had been asleep for some time before she sat up in bed, still mostly asleep, he hoped. At that point, Star had then started to curse like a drunken sailor at him, and ripped off the t-shirt she had been wearing before collapsing back down on the bed unconscious, where she was still in deep sleep.

Now, still lying on his side, his arm was across her midsection, similar to yesterday, but Star was sleeping on her back with the blanket resting across her chest, covering her breast, but not her arms. His own face was almost touching her right shoulder, while that arm was folded back so that it rested on his neck. Her left hand still clasped his metal one under her own pillow. He could also tell that his own right leg had found a place covering her right one, so that it rested between both of hers. How they could both sleep with moving into such positions was beyond him. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes hoping to get a few more hours of sleep.

The movement from next to him is what woke him a while later. Star seemed to be stretching her body, as she slowly began to wake up. He could feel where she was touching him, his neck, his leg, her belly, as they gently rubbed skin to skin. Regarding her lounging form, he increased his hold over her belly so that she knew he was now awake. From the sharp intake of breath from her, he guessed that she just realized that her shirt was missing.

"Um, Scary, what happened to my shirt?" she asked starting to take her left hand from his, but he clasped onto it holding her into place.

"You don't remember what you did during the night?" he asked rolling towards her slightly, just enough so that his body was just pressing against hers.

"No, I don't think so," she said as he felt her breathing becoming a bit faster.

"You got too hot while sleeping, sat up and removed the shirt, all while mumbling curses at me," he said as he watched her face as the recollection slowly came to her, as well as a groan from Star. "Very un-ladylike."

"Nothing happened though, did it?" Star asked with a bit of unease in her voice.

"No, nothing happened," he answered, "But you did say a very naughty thing to me."

"What?" her cheeks now blushing and her face beginning to show a bit more worry.

"I believe the exact phrase was, 'what are you, a fucking furnace.'"

With that, Star's entire body seemed to ease underneath his, as if she had been expecting something totally different. He felt her hand, which was still touching his neck, begin to stoke his skin, while a smile creeped across her face.

"Aw, did my big, bad words burn your sensitive assassin ears?"

With those taunting words, he shifted his position very quickly, enough so that he heard the startled gasp from Star. His left arm, holding hers, pulled it further over her head, pinning her wrist over her right shoulder, as he leaned his upper body weight onto his left elbow. His right leg moved higher up from where it had been between her own, until it finally made firm contact with the area between her legs. Lifting his body so that he was hovering over hers, resting on his knees, this arrangement lifted the sheets that had been covering her naked form, with Star quickly moving her right arm across her bare breast to hide them from him. He used his right arm planted on the bed for a bit of support, even though he was not resting too firmly upon her.

"Yes, and for that I think that you owe me," he responded, trying to decipher the look on her flushed face.

"What do you want?" her voice was barely above a whisper.

Glancing down to where her arm was covering, he saw the small pink star for the first time since they had first met. She had been wearing clothes since that night, and he had all but forgotten about it. Moving his right hand, he began to slowly drag his palm across her bare stomach, letting it travel upwards so that it slithered between her breasts and under her arm so that it came to rest right next to the object, while his forearm rested along the path the hand had made. Circling over it with his fingers, he felt the smooth skin while staring at the lovely shade of pink. He could feel Star's breath deepen as he held the position for a few moments longer than he had anticipated.

"I want to hear where you got this from," he said turning his head up to look at her.

Star lifted her head slightly off the bed to glance down at where his finger was still touching, as if she were trying to figure out what he was talking about, almost like she had forgotten about the tattoo. A strange look came over her face as her head rested back down onto the pillow.

"I'd always wanted to get a tattoo. Mark it up to rebellious teenager years. When I finally turned eighteen, me and two friends hopped in one of theirs car and drove across the state line to the next state over, since tattoo parlors were illegal where we lived. This is what I chose, while they got different ones. Pink was my favorite color, and my favorite Beatles song is Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, so I got a star. Something simple. We spent the day at the parlor, then went to a club with a band playing that night. Eventually, we headed back to the car, really late at night, and slept on the seats while parked at a mall. We drove home in the morning."

"So, it is a good memory, then?" he asked curious, running his finger around the edges of the shape.

"Yes, but it is also where Kozlov got his pet name for me from, since it was always going to be right there," Star answered slightly adjusting her body under his, not in a way that told him that she was trying to get away, but something else he didn't quite understand.

Bending his head lower down, he placed a long, gentle kiss over the pink star, wondering about how much of a coincidence it was that she had the same mark on her that he did, just in a different color. He heard Star give a sharp gasp for air as his lips touched her skin, feeling her arm covering her breasts press against his own chest as her lungs filled. He then adjusted his body back into the same position they had been in just a few minutes ago, but this time he placed his open palm across her bare belly.

"We're going to be stuck inside again today, aren't we?" Star asked as the rain continued to hammer onto the roof.

"Looks like it," he said not really minding, especially if they could stay like this all day.

For the next few minutes, they lay together like that, neither of them speaking, just letting the time pass. His fingers began to move across her skin, swirling the edge of Star's bellybutton and getting a slight giggle from her at the ticklish touch. As his index finger made the movement, he realized that his little finger was much closer to where the boxers were, lying low on her abdomen. He could feel that it was resting on the thin, indented straight line scar he had seen days ago.

Moving his index finger lower, he began to trace the line, finding that it was a couple of inches long, running between her hipbones. He felt Star stomach muscles tighten at his touches. The scar was very thin and he remembered that it looked to have been made from a surgical procedure, as opposed to the others that she had on her body. He also recalled that Star had even said that Kozlov would not mar her front, only her back.

"Star, what is this?" he asked, pressing his finger down firmly starting at the far edge and dragging his finger all the way across the scar.

All at once, in a series of unexpected moves, she acted. Star yanked her left arm free of his grasp. Her right hand reached down and clasped onto his own right wrist and harshly yanked it away from her, throwing it back towards his own body. Her legs pulled away hard, freeing themselves from under his own. Rolling over to her left, she deposited her feet loudly onto the hard floor, letting the covers fall entirely away from her now exposed body. Reaching down to the floor, she grabbed the shirt she had thrown away during the night in her overheated fit.

"Nothing," she angrily stated, without even looking at him as she stepped into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. In their days together, he had never seen her give off such raw emotion as she just had. Every other time he had asked about a scar, she had always told him of how she had received it, and it had always been at the hands of Kozlov. So why was this one different? Had it been something that had happened to her before Kozlov?

Climbing out of bed, he layered on a couple of shirts knowing that the other room was going to be chilly this morning, even for him. He would let Star have some time alone since this topic had upset her so. It would also give him time to get the fire going so that the den warmed up for the day. The clouds were so dark that he turned on the overhead light in the den and kitchen area to brighten up the house. He had decided that since there was plenty of gas, turning the generator off to conserve it at night was useless. Getting the fire started, he also calculated out the wood, mentally sorting it into four piles, one for each of the next four days, when they would be needed.

The bedroom had its own stack which should be plenty for the same amount of time, especially if they kept the door shut. The fire had been going for some time before he heard the bathroom door open. There was movement in the bedroom, drawers opening and closing, before Star finally joined him in the den area. Her face was quite red, as well has her eyes, so he could see that she had been heavily crying, but he had never heard a sound from the bathroom.

Without a word, Star made her way into the kitchen and began to pull items from every corner of it to make them breakfast with. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him. He was not going to push her into revealing this, not at this time. Whatever it was, it was obviously very upsetting to her. She had dressed in another shirt as well as some sweatpants. Sensible covered warm clothing, he thought, after being so exposed not so long ago. He almost wondered if she were trying to hide the scar under the many layers of clothes.

They made it through breakfast without a single word being spoken between them. Needing something to occupy his hands, he pulled out a couple of his knives and began to sharpen them. Sitting in the chair while lining them up on the hearth in front of him, he would watch her from the corner of his eye. Star was moving slowly through the kitchen, taking her time cleaning up and washing their few dishes, even wiping the counter for a third time. He saw that she had once again moved the curtain over the sink back so that she could look outside, probably at that damn path again, since the day had finally lightened up just enough through the falling rain. Every time he had found the window exposed, he had closed the curtain, hoping that she would have forgotten the path.

It was about that time when the lights in the house began to flicker, trying to stay on. Something was going on with the generator.

"Scary?" Star asked, with fear in her voice from where she had turned, standing at the sink to look over at him.

On alert, he needed to make sure that nothing else was going on. He lifted his finger to his lips so that she knew to be silent, and received an understanding nod at the gesture. Picking up a couple of his knives, he tucked them into pockets and around his waist.

Quietly moving over to where Star was standing frozen, he drew one of his k-bar knives, holding it by the blade and offering it to her. Star stared at him for only a moments before taking it. Pointing at the corner behind her, where the cabinets met the oven, he gently used his other hand to move her so that she was now crouching down out of sight of anyone that could possibly come through the front door.

"Stay," his voice was barely above a whisper. Star once again nodded in understanding.

He opened the pantry and removed the flashlight that they had used earlier in the week. He suspected he may need it. Making his way quickly and quietly to the bedroom, he put his boots on, lacing them firmly. He grabbed the keys to the door, then headed over to his gun bag in the corner of the den. Grabbing two pistols in a holster, he latched them around his waist. Unlocking the front door, he looked out over the open yard through the small window, finding nothing out of place. No sign of anyone, or anything that would draw his attention.

Opening the door, he stepped out onto the small landing, one hand taking a grip on a pistol. Closing the door behind him, he began to make his way over to the generator shed.

As she heard the front door slowly open and then close, Star stayed crouched down where Scary had hidden her. She could see the top of the back door above the cabinet she leaned against, but she was not too worried about it since someone would have to kick in the locked door to enter the house. Please let it be a problem with the generator, she thought. As the next couple of minutes went by, Star listened for any sign that something was happening outside. There was nothing but the sound of the rain on the roof.

That was when the lights turned off, leaving her in relative darkness. Thanks to the dark clouds, there was barely any light coming through the window, even with the curtain open. The corner where she waited was shrouded in darkness, actually helping to hide her, not by much, but it was better than nothing, she decided.

She so wanted to get up and see what was going on, but years of being told to hold her place, kept Star still. She knew that Scary would not punish her like Kozlov for disobeying, but he would be mad at her and she did not want that. He could sit and brood without her even doing anything to make him mad. Star much preferred Scary when he talked to her. She knew that quite a few minutes had already passed since the lights went out, but still no Scary.

There was a sound, from the front of the house. Gripping the handle of the blade tightly, she listened for the sound again. Then the front door opened, much louder than she would have thought it should have.

"Star," Scary's voice reached her ears. She had never been so happy to hear the voice of her killer. Pulling herself up with the edge of the cabinet, Star looked and found him standing in the door frame. "It's just a simple problem with the generator."

Scary then shut the door behind him and walked over to the kitchen, stopping when he reached the sink. His hair was soaking wet and dripping water on the floor and partially on her, he was so close. He held out the flashlight so that she could take it, which she did curious as to what he was doing.

"There is a small filter on the gas line to prevent debris from getting into the engine. It turns out that it has not been cleaned in a while, and it is partially clogged, preventing the gas from getting through the line. I just need to rinse and dry this out, and then reinsert it, so we should be fine."

Star watched as he held the small mesh item up for her to see, before turning on the faucet and washing out all of the small particles that were blocking it. Putting her knife on the counter, she held the light down on the item while he worked, but her eyes began to shift upwards, out the window to the path again. She had to know.

"It'll take me just a few minutes to get this back in and the generator restarted," he said, reaching out to take the flashlight from her. She gave him a simple nod of understanding. Watching Scary walk back out of the house, knowing that there was no real trouble, she decided to take a chance. He would have been madder at her if she had disobeyed while a situation had been going on, but now that she knew there was not one, she was willing to take the chance.

Running to the bedroom, she grabbed the boots that he had found for her to wear and quickly put them on. Leaving the bedroom, she was about to head to the front door, but then made the sudden decision to grab the knife he had given her from where she had left it on the countertop. Just because it was a mechanical problem, didn't mean the woods were safe. Seizing the knife, she ran across the house, stopping at the front door. Looking through the small window on the door, she saw no sign of movement beyond the falling rain.

Opening the door, Star stepped outside, finding the temperature much colder than she had suspected. She had thought that with it raining, it would have been warmer, but no, it was not. Closing the door behind her, she kept her eyes towards the generator shed while she made her way down the few steps to the grass. Then she carefully walked backwards, following the house. When she finally reached the corner, she made her turn and began to make her run for the path.

Star kept waiting for Scary to either magically appear before her, or suddenly take a hold of her from behind. She remembered how fast he had moved the other day in the woods, when he had wanted to. Entering the woods finally, she had to slow down due to the puddles that had formed on the path. There was no way to tell how deep they were and she really didn't want to end up with a twisted ankle right here at the end of her life.

Trying to avoid the puddles when she could, she carefully made her way further and further down the path, leading her to… she had no idea where. But since that first day, seeing the path, then having Scary dissuade her from looking at it, and keeping the curtain closed no matter how many times she had opened it, the path had only gotten her curiosity up.

The area ahead of her was becoming slightly lighter, and she could see what seemed to be a small clearing in the trees. Glancing back, she found the path empty, still no sign of Scary. She slipped the knife into the pocket of her wet sweatpants. Walking into the opening, it was covered in puddles as well, with a bit of piled snow around the edges where the tree canopy had prevented the rain from getting to them. There was a large tree stump off to her immediate left side, but it was the three man-made items marking the small disturbed areas of earth, ahead of her at the far side of the clearing, that now held her attention.

Walking over to the first standing stick, Star saw the very familiar collar with a name tag on it, just like the kind that had been around her own neck. Only this one had the name Lady engraved on it. Making her way around the area, she found the additional two collars marking more graves, Jewel and Princess. Where had he gotten their pet names from? She doubted that it was as simple as them having a tattoo, like she had. Circling around them with her mind spinning as well, she could not help it, but she couldn't look away from them.

This is where she was supposed to have ended up. This is where Kozlov had been ready to bury her. His own private 'pet cemetery'. In the middle of the woods, where nobody would ever find her body. So far from her family, that they would never even have guessed she had left the country.

Star had known that she was not his first pet, but she had no idea that there had been three before her. Kozlov had not really mentioned them, and never by name, but he would tell her of either a punishment they had received, or some other horrible story, to help keep her in line.

She finally stopped at the foot of the center grave, standing in the clearing with the cold rain still falling down on her. Her entire outfit was soaking wet, and it felt heavy on her thin limbs, weighing her down. It was the collars that still held her attention. Just like her own. Leather with the metal part in the back, so the small padlock could secure it permanently around their necks.

That was when she heard someone nearby clearing their throat, trying to get her attention. Scary. As quiet as always. Not a single splash of a step in a puddle, or breaking of a twig, as he had arrived.

"I had to know," she simply stated. "But you already knew, didn't you? That was why you kept trying to keep me from seeing the path. You knew that they were here."

"I found them the day I arrived." Scary was close to her now.

"I don't understand why the graves are so small," wondering aloud more for herself as she tried to figure it out. There was something nagging at her, but she just couldn't figure it out. Turning to Scary, his own form as soaked as she was, "Do you know?"

It was the look that crossed his face that told her that he did know, his lips pinching together, his brow furrowing. But he remained silent.

"You had to cut my collar off because you never could find a key. But their collars are hanging, still locked…"

"Star, let's go," he said, as she felt his metal hand take a hold of her right one. Instead, she yanked it free. More like he let her yank it free.

"How did the collars come off without being unlocked?" she firmly asked, almost in a demanding voice. "Why are the graves so small?"

"Star, I'm telling you right now, turn around and walk away from here!" Scary barked out as an order. Instead, she just turned to face him. His voice was one that must be obeyed, but his face was pained. Why?

"No! This is where I was supposed to end up!" she said sweeping her arm in the direction of the small graves. "Hell, in what, one, two, three days or so, I am going to end up here, right? It's as good a place as any to finish your mission! Now, you tell me what I want to know!"

Scary stood frozen, staring down at her, the pain on his face suddenly disappearing, being replaced with a clean slate...no emotion, no expression, nothing.

"The ax," he simply stated.