Take this night,
Wrap it around me like a sheet.
I know I'm not forgiven, but I need a place to sleep.
So take this night, and lay me down on the street.
I know I'm not forgiven, but I hope that I'll be given some peace.

- This Night, Black Lab

. . . | . . .

C H A P T E R - F O U R

Disrobing

~. . . . -=|=- . . . .~

I once read that time was the rarest thing in the entire world; a valuable commodity.

Perhaps it was true. I wasn't a philosopher by any standard of the word.

But now, time was all we had.

We didn't have to be anywhere at any specific hour. There were no drills, no PT, no chores to be done by nine a.m.. I didn't even have to shave anymore, and I hadn't done so in what had to have been months; there was never a need for it. Instead of seconds, minutes, hours or days, our time was measured by the rise and set of the sun. It was in our pain; the ache in our feet, and the crackle in our knees, telling us our journey for the day was finished.

I knew we were getting weaker. Time was killing us. It had starved us, beat us... taken it's toll on me. I was taught to ignore all of these things, to endure when no one else could, but no more. I couldn't push past the pain that consumed me. The wound wasn't healing. If anything, it was getting worse.

It was affecting my ability to sustain the miles we needed to walk. It annoyed me, the fact that I was so weak and nearly helpless. It wasn't who I was. It wasn't what my uniform stood for.

Regardless, Alice was beginning to notice, as always. She had some superhuman ability to read my mind, or something. She could hone in even when I was trying to hide it. I started to believe my ability to manipulate my body language was waning. But it wasn't a secret that I could hide for long. Eventually she would know.

When we came to a large sign situated on the side of the highway I stopped, and repressed the need to drop to my knees.

VICKSBURG: 3 MILES

The white letters were barely legible, weathered over time. Still, I could make out the pattern against the light green and through the brown that covered the sign. Alice marked her map that she had been holding onto for hours, and determined that we were close to the Mississippi. Very close. The news couldn't come soon enough. I was ready to see the light glint off the tide, and feel water rush down my throat.

I stopped. "Ever been to Vicksburg?" I asked as I unhooked my sack and let it drop from my shoulders onto the concrete. I already felt better without it. The weight was becoming more difficult to bear.

"A couple of times as a kid. My dad had a membership to some country club."

"How much of it do you remember?"

"Err... not much. Why?"

"I have a feeling it's going to be a little more populated," I huffed and unbuttoned my BDU. I was sticky, thirsty, starved and in pain. We had to rest, build up strength for what we would find across that river. "And I don't think I'm ready for that."

I slipped my arms out of the sleeves. The mild air felt good against my bare arms.

"Here," she said as she took my top, folded it then stuffed it into the large pocket of my sack. I was surprised she was able to get it in with as much ease as she did. It was full to the brim. "We need to build a fire tonight. Are you okay to walk through the woods?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." I stood there another moment, working up all the strength I could muster to add the weight back to my body.

She stepped next to me, reaching for the strap. "Here, let me carry it."

"No, it's too heavy for you. Stop." She continued to try to pull it off the ground. "Al, leave it. I got it."

"It's too heavy for you, too. Can't you just admit that you need help?"

I groaned as I lifted. I could feel the pulse in my thigh, and wanted nothing more than to lower it and sit back down, but I didn't. "I don't need help, Al. Not with this."

I didn't want her to hurt herself. That was the last thing we needed.

She rolled her eyes, sighed then entered the woods to our right. "Did anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are?" I limped after her, pushing through the pain that wanted to take control of my thoughts.

"Once," I called to her back as I carefully stepped over some fallen branches on the forest floor. "My last girlfriend said something very similar before she took my T.V. and my dog. Actually, she didn't even say it to my face, she wrote a note and left it on my counter."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Which country song did you lift that one from?"

"It's the God-honest truth."

"I didn't think you had girlfriends, Red. I thought you were one of those guys that didn't have time for one."

"Some of 'em deserved some type of title," I said.

"Wow." She turned her head to the side to look off into the distance. Her profile revealed her grin, and her ivory skin seemed to glow orange from the low sun.

We walked through those woods until the highway was nothing more than a memory, until there was nothing except bark for as far as the eye could see. We established a camp before it turned dark, between a set of trees near a small pond. To our surprise, the ground wasn't completely soaked like it had been at the gas station. Perhaps the rain had passed by with only a slight shower. Alice unfolded a small tarp from her bag and placed it onto the slightly damp ground. She determined we would spend the next couple of days here, watching my injury and allowing it to heal.

I dug a small hole with my hands, then started a fire with my strike kit, bark and some old newspaper that Alice kept in her pack.

The flame wasn't large at first, but with help it crackled to life. I sat on the coarse, blue material next to my sack, and let out a sigh of relief. The heat felt wonderful against my skin.

She picked up the canteen I pulled out for her. "I'm going to grab some water real quick."

No! She wasn't leaving my side. "I'll come with you." I started to get up. Fuck! I was back on the ground before I could get to my knees.

"Don't move! Jesus, could you sit still for five goddamn minutes?"

"I need to go with you."

Her eyes glinted from the flame between us. She wasn't smiling. She said, her voice low, "The water isn't even twenty feet away. I think I can manage without you for a moment."

With those words she turned. She didn't allow me a chance to respond, nor did she care what I would've said, I was sure. Her form, swaying ever so gently with each step, merged with the darkness. She was gone. I was alone with the fire that hissed and popped only a foot away, and the burn that ignited my flesh and seared me to the bone. It was uncomfortably quiet. Was this what she meant when she saw what it was like without me? Did she feel the anxiety settle in her chest and swell her lungs? What if she didn't come back from the water? How many seconds had passed? How long should I have given her until she came back?

Endless questions. Various scenarios popped into my head.

Did I really kill those men earlier? They wouldn't find us and take her away would they?

Of course not, they're dead. At least, I thought they were dead.

How many minutes had passed?

Should I call out to her? No. Yes. No... don't. She'll be back in a moment or two.

Or three.

A noise echoed without filter through the darkness; moving leaves under feet. A small shape became clear with each passing second, then she became distinguishable, unrefuted. Her face, once tinged with dirt, was clean and glistened with drops of water. She carried the canteen in her hand, which dripped from the lip. She grinned.

"What took you so long?" I asked.

"Relax. I was only gone for a minute. Do you want to eat first, and then we'll wrap your leg?"

"That didn't need to be asked," I said as I reached for her bag to find the can she had stuffed in there earlier after we found it. The contents inside were still a mystery. I was betting on some type of bean, but Alice said a green vegetable. I was pretty sure I was right.

I popped then peeled back the lid to reveal a massive amount of green-tinted liquid. Dammit.

"Well, look at that," she said. "A green vegetable."

Not just any green vegetable. Green beans.

"Looks like we were both right."

"Um, no. I was right. You said beans."

I shook my head. "No, I said a type of bean. I didn't specify which kind."

"Doesn't count!" She pushed on my shoulder ever-so-slightly. "When are you going to learn that I'm always right?"

"Probably never."

We each took turns dipping our fingers into the can to retrieve a few green beans at a time. We ate slowly to preserve the feel of them in our mouth, and hopefully fill us up. Although it was doubtful. There wasn't much more I could ask for in that moment - food, a good friend and warmth.

The embers from the burning material was almost hypnotic. It was rare that we had the opportunity to safely build a fire so that we could boil water. Mostly, we were in the open. A fire was a beacon for anyone looking for travelers.

But it had been several days since we had any safe water to drink, and we were deep in the forest.

We collected as much as we could from small streams, but most of it tasted odd. When it came down to it, we never took more than a few sips. Infection was a horrible, painful way to die.

The concern poisoned my thoughts. Some time after that was when I stopped sleeping. Soon after those men began to follow us.

I hated not being at full capacity. It was dangerous.

She set her steel pot - that she found in L.A. - onto the fire. The water was already inside, ready to boil.

After the pot had been on the fire for a few minutes, she motioned at me with a quick turn of her hand. "Go ahead and take 'em off."

This was the part I didn't like. Without standing, I unbuttoned and unzipped my pants then slid them down my legs. The pain made it difficult. I gnashed my teeth together and forced myself to continue until my thighs were bare and the pants were collected at my calves.

She set the make-shift filter we made from cloth and a clear, narrow-lipped container next to me then pulled the pot away from the fire, an old shirt protected her hand from the intense heat. Steam rose into the dark surroundings as she poured the hot water onto the cloth a little at a time. She allowed it to collect at the bottom of the container for several minutes while she laid a roll of gauze in a plastic bag and a large cloth on top of my stomach.

She sighed. "We're gonna need more gauze. There wasn't enough last time."

I lay back to rest my head on my rucksack and folded my fingers over my chest. I wanted to be as comfortable as possible in this uncomfortable situation. "Well, make me a list and I'll go to the store tomorrow," I said, trying to ease the tension. Her warm hands touched my thigh. I flinched.

She shushed me and squeezed my hands with one of hers for a brief second. "Try to relax." Both of her hands were at my thigh again, working loose the tight knot she had made this morning with the thin gauze. Her skin gently brushed against mine. "The only place you'll be tomorrow is here. You have to give this time to heal. We can take a few days to rest."

I eyed her over my chest. "What about food?"

She didn't say anything. Instead, her features pulled down. I knew she was thinking what I was thinking at that moment: when we would eat again.

For me, it became easy to ignore the hunger that grew in my stomach after I hadn't eaten in several days, but it was always more pronounced after we ate very little. The pain, it seemed, only worsened; grew almost intolerable, and nothing, except more food, could stop it. It was an inevitable ache.

She fed the old, stained bandages and cloth to the fire. They were instantly caught in the flames, and were crumpled and gone within a matter of seconds. "I'm going to start," she said.

I tried to breathe deeply, as she told me to do. I grew more anxious when I heard the sound of ripping gauze then felt her skin against mine once more, near the hole.

"Relax," she said as she stroked the inner part of my thigh.

I shrank and bit my lower lip as the wound became more and more tender. Pressure began to build inside my leg, and a dull pain now resided where the burn used to be. My pulse sent tremors through the lower portion of my body.

"Almost done," she said.

I sighed heavily as she lifted the water container and removed the soaked cloth at the top and placed it back into the safety of her bag. She poured a small amount of water onto a folded, blue cloth. "It's going to be really warm," she warned.

I nodded.

She pressed it to my leg. It burned slightly, but I didn't shy away. After a moment, the short strokes were soothing and no longer discomforting. I wanted to occupy my thoughts with something else, anything other than what she was doing.

"What do you miss the most?" I asked.

She paused. "I don't know."

"I'm sure you can think of something," I urged, and propped myself onto my elbows.

She tucked her lips and said, "You first."

"Would it be petty of me to say pizza delivery?"

"Don't talk about food," she said with a slight smile. "Makes me hungry."

"So I can't say steak, either?"

"No, you can't."

"What about T.V.?"

She tilted her head to the side while making an 'iffy' face. "I used to make a big bowl of popcorn and watch movies while studying because I hated being in a quiet room. Other than that, I never cared too much for it."

I was silent for a long, steady moment while I tried my best to think of anything other than the gauze-packed hole.

"What about change? Does that count?" she asked. The stroke against my leg ceased.

"What type of change do you mean?"

"You know, potential. All the possibilities for what life would be like. The places I would see, and the children that I would have."

Her face seemed to curl. I knew the look. She was devastated by the thought. "We're seeing places you've never seen before, and you can always have kids, Al."

"With who?"

"We'll settle down somewhere, somewhere warm and sunny. We can start over again." She looked to me. "And you'll meet a man that's gonna want to be with you and have so many kids you won't be able to think straight."

She smiled and looked back down to my leg. A pinky brushed the inner part of my thigh so lightly that I wouldn't have been able to feel it unless I saw it happen.

"You really think so?"

"I know so. You're one in a million. Any man would be lucky to have you. Ahh, gentle," I begged, nearly hissing.

She began to remove the packing. "I'm sorry," she said. I'm sure if there were kids around they'd wonder if she was a magician. The gauze seemed a mile long. Fuck! So tender! "You're sweet, Edward."

Hmph. "Yeah. Don't tell everybody, okay? People will start to think I'm soft."

Freshly torn cloth circled my leg several times before she tied it off. "All done," she said as she tapped my knee with her fingertips. "You are kinda soft, you know."

I sat up and reached for my pants that were gathered around my ankles. Soft? Soft? How could she think that?

"Do you need some help?" She reached for my pants.

"I got it. What do you mean? What I did today... you call that soft?"

"Not at all, but it's all in the reason. Why, do you feel guilty?" she asked as she pulled our small, fleece blanket from her bag and began to shake it out.

"I did what I had to do."

"But you have doubts, don't you?"

Doubts over what? I wasn't sure how to respond. Mostly, I didn't want to frighten her. I had a lot of doubt; how long I was going to be able to protect us forever, when we would find food again.

She sat beside me once more, then covered her legs and mine with the blanket.

"I don't know," I finally answered. "I'm just tired of looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone is going to be there to try and kill me."

She gently pushed my tags hanging at my chest with her finger. "You know what the solution to that is, right?"

I knew what she suggested. I fisted the dangling pieces of metal that swung easily from my neck. They bit at my palm with their coolness. "I know."

"So, why don't you?"

"Because it's getting colder and it'll keep me warm. And it's where I keep my ammo." But I hadn't stocked ammo in a long time.

"You haven't kept any ammo in there since you met me, and it wouldn't be hard to find a coat."

I shook my head. "You don't understand. Do you know what I had to do to wear this? How long I've waited to wear it?"

"Is that what's keeping you from taking it off? Pride?"

"Honor," I corrected. "Loyalty. Commitment."

"I think you were relieved of those things a few years ago. We do what we have to do in order to get by. I've said it before, but," her hand rested on my knee, "what you do for me every single day is amazing. You are unbelievably selfless. Hey, look at me." I did. "What those men were going to do... what all those men were going to do... they would have succeeded if it wasn't for you. And you feel bad about killing them?"

"I was trained to be selfless, that's..."

"No one can train you to be selfless, or brave. No one except yourself. That uniform doesn't define you. If anything, you define it, but there is no 'it' anymore. So, maybe, what's the point? That part of life is over."

"I've shed blood and tears to wear it. It's my biggest accomplishment."

"The fact that we've survived this long is an accomplishment. That's all that people need to see. That's all they would care about if they saw us. What else do you need to prove?" She sighed. "If I had died today, or if they had taken me, would you still be be feeling like this?"

I didn't even want to think about the idea. If she had died today, then I wouldn't be here now. If she was taken, then I'd do everything I could to find her. I hung my head, almost afraid to admit the darker side of my thoughts that loomed just behind the hopeful. "If something happened then I wouldn't be here to feel whatever it is that I'm feeling." I carefully lowered myself onto the tarp, and curled my forearm under my head. Alice followed. She wedged her shoulder under my pit and rested her head on my bicep. She seemed weightless. The canopy of leaves trembled and rustled above us. They seemed alive against the dark blue sky.

"You don't mean that," she said at my ear.

"I do. You don't know how many times it's crossed my mind."

"How many?"

"A lot. More than I can count."

Her hand crossed my torso and she pulled herself into me a little more. "Don't think like that. Ever again."

I brushed her wrist with my fingertips, but said nothing. I couldn't promise her I wouldn't. Death was always in the back of my mind, sometimes it was the forefront. Before she drifted off to sleep, she told me to rest, but it was hard to put my mind at ease with so much to think about. Regardless, I closed my eyes on the world.

Should I abandon my BDU? It wouldn't hurt to try. I wasn't gaining any benefit from wearing it. At least, not anymore.

I was lost in a world that no longer needed me, no longer wanted me. I was war without peace, a bullet without a gun. I was called a monster, a title I earned, I suppose.

Perhaps I lost my humanity. Maybe I didn't deserve to live at all, and I started to believe it. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be alive. Even though I believed I deserved death, she told me otherwise. She gave me something to believe in. She became my God, my religion, the day she saved me. And I, somehow, through the darkness and decay, found something to believe in, and it wasn't all the luxuries people killed for. It wasn't about me. It was about her. It was about keeping her ideas safe, to protect the last person in the world that would trust in someone with a uniform.

She saved me by saying nothing, because she didn't need to. She saved me by reaching out to me, and touching, when no one else would, regardless of who I was.

I owed her much more than this. I owed her a chance to travel normally, regardless of my past beliefs. She was what I believed in, now; not some childhood fantasy, or the blood and tears I shed for some false hope or God.

I dismissed by BDU, and would leave it to rot in the confines of my rucksack as long as I protected her. My tags would be moved beneath my holey, black t-shirt. My cargo pants weren't identifiers so those would be left alone. My sack was a dead giveaway, but we couldn't afford to let it go. I would say I stole it from a soldier, after I beat him to death for it.

She was right. I didn't need those things. I only needed her, and her hope. The rest was simply past.

We're almost at our half-way point for this fic. Yay!

This Night by Black Lab

Still by Hans Zimmer