Silas Read online

  “Joke?”

  “Look, the point is, I never had to, you know, get in on with a dude,” I said. “Which is good. Because that would have fucked me up royally. I mean, no pun intended. Not that it would be funny, if, you know, something like that happened. It would be horrible.” Okay, I was digging myself a hole here. “All I’m trying to say is that it wasn’t so bad. I got sent out to some bored housewives of really rich dudes. They were all really pretty and really needy and really grateful. And it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

  Christa was quiet. “I don’t know, Silas. It kind of sounds like a big deal. You were forced into it. It’s not like you would have done that on your own. Would you?”

  I dug the rock into the bark as deep as I could. “No, I guess not. Still, it wasn’t that bad. With Sylvia, it was even… you know, good. I guess I liked it.”

  “So, you slept with Rolf’s wife because she was paying French for your services?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Like I said, a lot of those women were lonely. Their husbands had married them as trophy wives. The women’s jobs were to look hot on his arm when they were in public and to shut the fuck up the rest of the time. The women had lots of money, and they could buy anything they wanted. I guessed they figured it couldn’t hurt to buy some time with a young, attractive guy like myself.”

  “And humble too.” She rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “I’m a hunk.”

  “Hunk? What is this? 1992?”

  “I’m just saying,” I said. “People paid to fuck me.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” she said. “It really doesn’t bother you at all. You were a prostitute. Does anything bother you?”

  I hesitated. I was used to convincing myself that nothing got under my skin. I didn’t see the point in letting stuff hurt me. Generally, I just didn’t think about it. I brushed it off. But it was harder to do that out here in the wilderness. There was nothing to protect me. And I heard the same kind of sharpness to Christa’s tone that I’d heard when she accused me of not caring about Milo.

  “Look,” I said. My voice was quieter. “When you have to do stuff like that, it’s better to not let it get to you. I don’t know if it bothers me or not.” I paused. “Okay, that’s not true. It does. It… bothers me. It was kind of…” I squirmed. “But I had to do it. I had to do it for Sloane. And it could have been worse than it was. So, it’s easier not to admit that, not to think about that. It’s easier to focus on the parts of it that weren’t so bad.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. Her voice was quieter too. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what it was like for you. It’s only that sometimes you seem so… untouchable. Hard. Unfeeling.”

  “I’m not,” I said. “Really, there are lot of things about me—”

  “And then other times,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “you don’t seem that way at all.”

  “I’m not that way,” I said. “I care about people.”

  “I know that,” she said.

  There was a long pause.

  Christa turned to me, gesturing with her rock. “I, um, interrupted you. Keep going. So, Sylvia hired you to have sex with her.”

  “Right,” I said. “Well, that’s about all there is to it. You wanted to know how I was forced into it. Now you know.”

  “But what happened? How did Rolf find out that you were sleeping with her?”

  “I think he beat it out of her when she confronted him about his little hobby of hunting down people and killing them.”

  “Oh.”

  “But that was my fault,” I said. “Through Op Wraith, I found out about what Rolf was doing, and I thought Sylvia should know. She was unhappy in her marriage or she wouldn’t have hired me. And I thought she should know what kind of man he was. I thought maybe that if she knew he was a total jerk, she’d gather up the courage to leave him. Maybe then she could have been happy.” I sighed. “But that wasn’t what happened. She was afraid to leave him. She’d had a taste of being wealthy. She didn’t want to give it up. I guess she thought that she meant more to him than she did. She thought that if it was a choice between her and his hunting expeditions, he’d pick her. But he didn’t. He picked hunting. He made her his prey, and he killed her.”

  “Jesus,” Christa whispered.

  “Yeah, the whole thing is fucked up.”

  “You cared about her, didn’t you?”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Sorry, was that question too intrusive?”

  I took a deep breath. “I cared about her. I didn’t want her to die.”

  “Did you want her to leave Rolf and be with you?”

  I turned to her. “What? No.”

  “It’s only that you seem to have—”

  “There was no being with me. I lived at Op Wraith. I slept in a bunk-lined room with a bunch of other assassins. I spent my time killing people or sleeping with rich socialites or trying to keep bad things from happening to Sloane. No, it wasn’t like that. Not exactly.”

  “But if that was different,” she said. “If you could have been together, would you have wanted to?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I might have thought… I was barely nineteen years old, you know, and I’d been an assassin for two years, and I hadn’t… you know, been with women since before. Since high school. That was all I knew about any kind of relationship or anything. And she was… they were all so poised and coiffed and mature.” I swallowed. “I didn’t want her to die, and I didn’t mind fucking her, and I even, you know, might have kind of… liked her. I mean, I felt sorry for her. But she was using me, you know? Even if I didn’t mind being with her so much, that doesn’t mean that I wanted to run off with her. I knew she didn’t feel like that about me. I didn’t…” I dragged a hand over my face. “I don’t even know if I know how to feel like that about someone anymore.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like how to be in love or whatever. Hell, I don’t even know if I believe it exists.”

  “I know what you mean,” she said.

  I set down my rock. “No, you don’t.”

  “I do,” she said. “We’re similar, Silas. Neither of us let people in easily. And we both kind of sleep around, you know?”

  “I don’t throw myself at people,” I said.

  She glared at me. “Neither do I.”

  “You’ve been throwing yourself at me since we got out here.”

  “Yeah, but that’s not because of… love,” she said.

  “You know, maybe you should respect yourself more. You know, respect your own body or whatever.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, do you even know how you sound? Are you a guidance counselor or something?”

  I picked my rock back up. “Forget it.”

  “Do you respect your body, Silas?”

  I began attacking the wood.

  “Is that why you agreed to be a prostitute?”

  “Stop it.” I kept hacking at the stick. “You know, you looked at me in a fucked-up way that night that you got me off. You looked at me just the way Sylvia used to, like I was some wind-up doll that you’d figured out how to make dance. Maybe your problem isn’t respecting yourself, it’s that you don’t fucking respect anyone else.”

  “I…”

  I glared at her. “What?”

  “I’m really sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry I made you feel bad. It was the last thing I wanted. I did it to make you feel good. I wanted you to like it.”

  “You didn’t think it was kind of inappropriate, given the circumstances?”

  “Maybe,” she said. “But that’s the way I am. I’m inappropriate. Before, I thought you liked that about me.”

  I sighed.

  “Look,” she said. “That’s really the closest to love that I ever get, you know? Feeling like I want to make someone else feel good. Beyond that, I don’t feel the kinds of stuff other people feel. I look at Griffin and Leigh together, and they seem so
intensely into each other. They’ve got this bond. Sometimes, I swear, they read each other’s minds.”

  “They’ve been through a lot of shit together,” I said. “Sloane and I are like that. It’s what happens when you kill together. It’s not love, it’s just that shared horrible experience.”

  “What?” Sloane said in a tiny voice.

  “Fuck,” I said. “I keep spilling all your brother’s secrets.”

  “Leigh?” she said. “Is she an assassin too?”

  “No,” I said. “Her father was one of the heads of Op Wraith. He gave Leigh the serum to save her life when she was in a really bad car accident. Op Wraith went after her, trying to get her under their thumb, because they thought she was a loose cannon. And that’s how Griffin met Leigh. He was protecting her from Op Wraith.”

  “But they killed people together.”

  “They had to,” I said. “Those people were trying to kill them. It was self-defense.”

  Her voice was cold. “And you think that’s all there is between them. You don’t think they’re really in love?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. I shook my head. “I’m sorry I said anything.”

  * * *

  Christa and I crawled on our bellies through the tall grass near the stream. We knew that the hunters would be watching our only water source, and we didn’t want to give ourselves away. I’d tried to convince her to let me go on my own, but she was too freaked out that I’d never come back and insisted on coming along.

  The stream was ahead of us—above five or six feet away. The grass was tall enough to cover us, but we had to move slowly enough not to give ourselves away.

  It was taking quite a while to reach the stream.

  Our plan was to get there and to fill up the canteen. If it seemed safe, and no one was around, we were going to try to spear some fish too.

  Christa nudged me. “Silas,” she breathed.

  I looked back at her. “What?” I whispered.

  “Look.” She pointed.

  I followed the direction of her finger, and I saw one of the hunters standing about twenty feet away.

  So close.

  He wasn’t looking in our direction. He was watching the stream, his gun slung over his shoulder. He was wearing a camouflage backpack. It looked like it was stuffed full. What the hell did he have in there?

  Shit.

  We couldn’t get up there and get to the water.

  I’d brought the shotgun with us, and I could shoot him from this distance, but that seemed like a bad idea, because I figured the sound would bring the others.

  But we needed to get rid of him, because I wasn’t going through being dehydrated again. “If I shoot him, they’ll find us,” I whispered. “Too loud.”

  She nodded.

  The hunter turned, his brow furrowed. He was looking right at the place where we were hidden.

  He couldn’t see us, though. If he could see us, he would have done something by now.

  Wouldn’t he?

  He unslung his gun slowly.

  Shit.

  I moved my own gun. If he was going to shoot at us, you could be damned sure that I was going to shoot him first.

  But before I could raise it, Christa stood up.

  “Christa!” What was she doing?

  She raised a sharpened stick we were going to use to fish.

  The hunter whipped up his shotgun.

  Christa hurled the makeshift spear at him.

  It burrowed deep in his neck. He clutched at it, his eyes widening.

  Blood spurted out of the wound.

  And then he fell.

  Christa hit the ground again.

  I stared at her, stunned.

  “I was on the track team in high school,” she said. “I did the javelin throw.”

  “That was…” I shook my head. “That was awesome.”

  She gave me a small smile.

  “Stay here.” I got up into a crouch, and I scrambled over to the fallen hunter.

  I knelt over him. First, I checked for a pulse at his wrist.

  Nothing.

  He wasn’t breathing either. Dead. Christa had done a very good job.

  I took his gun, tore the bulging backpack away from him and hurried back to Christa.

  “Jackpot,” I said to her.

  “What’s in there?”

  I unzipped it and began to take things out. A bag of trail mix. Some beef jerky. Two cans of Coca-Cola. Extra ammunition for the shotgun. A canteen. Another camouflage jacket. (I’d been wearing the one we took from the other hunter, because my shirt had gotten ruined the time I got shot.)

  Christa’s eyes were huge. “Wow.”

  It was like Christmas morning. Nuts. Dried fruit. Dried meat. Enough of it to last for days. We were going to feast. And Coke. I never thought I’d be so happy to see soda in my entire life.

  I grabbed Christa, pulled her close, and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Nice going. You rock.”

  She grinned up at me, wrapping her arms around me. “I can’t believe I hit him.”

  “You were perfect,” I said.

  We smiled at each other like idiots.

  Then, slowly, her face grew more serious.

  And I realized how close we were. Embracing. Our bodies pressed against each other.

  Her gaze flitted from my eyes to my lips and then back up.

  I swallowed.

  She licked her lips.

  Did she want me to kiss her?

  Suddenly, I really wanted to kiss her.

  Her lips were pink and perfect, and I wanted to nudged my tongue into her mouth and—

  I let go of her. I cleared my throat. “Uh, we should fill up the canteens and get back to the cave before the others find us.”

  She looked away. “Right.”

  * * *

  Christa held up one of the cans of Coke to the light filtering in through the tiny opening to our cave. “We should ration them, shouldn’t we?”

  I took the can from her. “We’ll ration this one.” I pulled out the other can. “This one we’re drinking right now.” I pulled up on the tab on the can and heard the familiar hiss of the gas escaping. Immediately, the smell of sugary soda hit my nostrils. I held the can out to Christa. “You get the first drink.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I nodded, still holding it out.

  She snatched it from me and guzzled it. Then she handed the can back to me. “Oh my god,” she moaned. “I never thought something could taste that good.”

  I took a long swig. Between the two of us, we’d drunk half the can already. “You’re right,” I said. “That’s delicious.” I handed it back.

  She took another drink. Then she let out a loud belch and started giggling.

  I took the can back, laughing. “Um, excuse you?”

  “Sorry,” she said.

  I took another drink. “What else do you want? You want trail mix? You want beef jerky?”

  She held out her hand for the Coke.

  I gave it back to her.

  She took another drink. Then she shook the can. “Oops. I think there’s only like one drink left.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “We deserved to drink it fast.” I finished the last drop of the sweet, fizzy liquid. “We still have another whole can.”

  She nodded. She wiped her mouth.

  “Seriously,” I said. “We should eat something.”

  She bit her lip. “Oh my god.”

  “What?” I said.

  “Oh my god, Silas, I killed someone.” She put a hand to her mouth. She shook her head. “I killed someone, and it didn’t even bother me.”

  I got the jerky out of the backpack and handed her a piece. “Here, eat some meat.”

  She took the jerky. She stared at it. “That’s what you have to say? Eat some meat?”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “You had to kill him. He was trying to kill us.”

  “Like Griffin and Leigh,” she said.

&nbs
p; “Yeah.”

  “So, it’s self defense, so I should just get over it?”

  I took out a piece of jerky for myself. I took a bite. I chewed. “Kind of, yeah. When we get out of this, you can go see a therapist or something, and you can work out all of the terrible things that happened to you. But if you spend too much time trying to think about it right now, you’re going to lose focus, and you’re going to get yourself killed. The most important thing is surviving right now.”

  She took a bite of the meat. She laughed helplessly. “Days ago, I couldn’t even imagine killing someone. Since then, four people have died right in front of my face. And I killed one of them.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say or do. Did she want comfort? Should I rub her shoulder or hug her or something? No, I shouldn’t do that, because all of that touching stuff was way awkward between us. I should definitely keep my hands off of her.

  She ate another bite of jerky. “So, you’re saying that it’s okay to not think about it?”

  “More than okay. It’s the right way to go about it.”

  Another little laugh. “I guess you would know. How many people have you killed?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t keep track of that stuff.” I shrugged and shoved the rest of the piece of jerky into my mouth.

  “Did it ever bother you?” she asked. “At first, did it bother you?”

  I bundled up the jerky, the trail mix, and the other can of Coke into the backpack. I took it further into the cave. “We can have some more later. But we should try to make it last.”

  She let out a frustrated sound. “Look, obviously it bothered you if you’re avoiding the topic.”

  I came back to the front of the cave. “I’m not avoiding anything.”

  “You avoid everything,” she said. “You hide from everything you feel.”

  “Most of my feelings are not exactly pleasant,” I said.

  “Oh?” she said. She scrambled to her feet. She got up on tiptoe and pressed her lips against mine. “What about that? Did that make you feel anything? Was that unpleasant?”

  I was too shocked to respond.

  “Maybe you need me to do it again.” Her lips were there again. Insistent, soft, urgent.

  She started to pull away.

  But I caught her. I cupped the back of her head with one hand, and I stopped her from moving. I kissed her again. More thoroughly this time. I swept my tongue into her mouth. She tasted like Coca-Cola and beef jerky.