Vengeance (17 page)

His chest rises and
falls rapidly as he grimaces, closing his eyes to the pain.  I
reach out to help him but pull back, knowing that he wouldn’t
accept my help and the thought of touching him is a bit unsettling.
 I can’t deny the fact that waking up beside him wasn’t
comforting this morning.  

“What did they
put on your hand?” I ask.

He slowly opens his
eyes but he does not look at me as he curls his hand inward toward
his chest.  “Green Fire.”

“Fire?”
 My voice hitches at the thought.

He nods.  “They
burned out the infection.  Hurt like a bugger but it worked.
 After that they wrapped it up.  Next morning I woke and
found this black stuff all over my hand.  Never seen fire like
that before.  Felt like ice and flames all at the same time.”

I look toward the
window.  “There is a lot about this place that is foreign
to us.”

Bastien
rolls his head to the side to look at me. I can tell the exertion he
used to sit has cost him greatly.  “I saw their ship.  Saw
how far more advanced they are than us.  I guess it makes sense
now why they came to Earth.”

I turn away from the
window to frown at him.  He scrunches up his nose as he shifts,
pressing tighter against the wall, as if the pressure against his
wounds makes it hurt a bit less.  “What do you think
powers everything?” he asks.

“I’m not
really sure.  I haven’t seen much to know.”

He nods slightly.
 “I saw great tubes of light near the center of their
ship, swirling and beautiful.  From those tubes ran ducts that I
suspect fueled the entire ship.  An energy source unknown to us.
 It reminded me of the sun back on Earth.”

“Was
it a white light?” I ask, looking all around. On Earth sunlight
is warm and coated the land in hues of yellow.  This light seems
to have no origin. It is stark in its brilliance, blinding and cold.

“Yes.”

I
purse my lips and draw my legs into my chest, forcing myself not to
think of how hungry I am.  
Surely
they will feed us soon.  If Drach truly desires my children he
is going to have to start providing for their wellbeing.

“I have not
seen a sun since we arrived here.  At first I thought it was
because of the dense canopy but what if we are thinking about this
all wrong?”  Bastien looks at me with obvious interest.
 “What if the source of their power doesn’t come
from off the planet but from within it?  Maybe that is why
everything here seems to radiate the light.  The trees, the
water, the soil...it all glows.”

Bastien
slowly nods.  As he does I see a muscle along his neck
quivering.  
He
must be trying to hide his pain,
I
muse.  Perhaps if I can keep him talking it will help.

“I guess it’s
possible.  We know nothing of this planet or its inhabitants.”

I shake my head.
 “We know something.  They thrive off heat.”

It does not take
long to realize that the days on this planet are short, perhaps
spanning no more than seven or eight hours.  Night is dominant,
a quality that I suspect is perfect for our snake-like captors.
 Bastien and I spend our days trying to soak in what little
light filters through the window.  We spend our nights huddled
together, swatting at wings with teeth that slip in through the
window.

The
temperatures on this planet are extreme, much like the deserts of
Earth.  The Roamers are far more active at night, seeming to
thrive off the cooler temperatures.  They sleep during the early
hours of the morning and then rise with the light to warm themselves.
 Despite the drastic shifts in temperature, the humidity never
seems to diminish.

Food
is brought to us once a day on a large oval tray: water in a jug and
a loaf of bread that I have been leery of attempting.  The
stacks of meat are greyish and tough, but it goes down well enough if
you hold your nose.  With each day that passes Bastien grows
stronger.

Drach
held to his word by sending small jars of salve to tend to his
wounds.  The medicine is the color of yellowish clay and tacky
to the touch, but it brings swift relief to his pains.  At first
I watched him struggle to apply the medicine himself.  After the
first day I refused to let him do it himself.  I could tell that
it took everything in him to allow me to touch him.  To see him
exposed with only a thin cloth shielding him from my sight was hard
on both of us.

I felt him shudder
the first time I touched him, felt the depth of his discomfort, but
there was something far deeper that called to me: longing.  How
long has it been since we last touched?  It is maddening to have
no memory of our time together.  Sometimes I think that I can
almost imagine being with him but I know that it is nothing more than
my overactive imagination playing tricks with me.

I have searched my
memories and have come to one conclusion.  Kyan did not cover my
memories.  He took them completely.  It is as if Bastien
truly never existed...but Eamon did.  Thinking of my husband now
I know that he is the one that I am meant to be with, and yet the
longer I spend time with Bastien that confidence begins to waver.  

I
am loyal to my husband.  The past is lost to me.  Eamon is
my future
,
I tell myself but questions linger in my mind.  Did Bastien and
I once hold each other close?  Share a kiss?  

Judging
by the way Bastien reacts to my touch, at one time we must have been
very close.  As the days progress and he becomes used to my
touch again I begin to wonder just how intimate we once were.  Did
we ever make love together?  The mere idea of that turns my
stomach, my heart battling with my devotion to my husband, and yet I
am left with only more questions that refuse answers.  

Bastien will not
speak of our past.  A part of me is grateful for that because
seeing him without clothes never ceases to form a lump in my throat.

His
body is riddled with scar tissue from old wounds.  His back
boasts several large burn marks where it appears he just missed a
shot from a laser. There are several small wounds, no larger than an
inch or two, that he refuses to tell me where they came from but I
have my suspicions they were from a knife.

With the aid of the
salve Bastien’s injuries heal at an accelerated rate.  Already
the dark bruising of his face has begun to fade, leaving only a
yellowish hue around his face.  His right eye has reopened and
his spirits have lifted, though he has been careful to remain distant
when possible.

Bastien is pulling
away from me as his pain threshold begins to diminish.  I can
tell that he regrets that first night he spoke to me, retelling me of
our past together.  When we speak now it is never about us or
the past, but rather on this place.

I watch as he drives
the end of his buckle into the soft flesh of the wall.  Another
mark for another day past.  There are nearly half a month’s
worth of marks now.  Time passes slowly in this room with
nothing to see and nothing to do but stare at each other.

The
only time we are allowed to leave is to freshen up in the morning and
again at night.  Once we started eating and drinking again I
found it difficult to ignore my bladder throughout the long day, but
what choice did I have?  I wasn’t about to drop my pants
right in front of Bastien!

“How much
longer do you think they will keep us here?”

I
look up at him, watching as he loops his belt back through his pants.
 His torn uniform is long gone.  It has been replaced by a
baggy shirt nearly twice the size of him.  His pants are too
short, falling about the tops of his ankles.  His feet remain
bare.  Callouses have begun to form on the bottoms as he paces
for hours on end each day, like a lion thrust into a cage, always
searching for a way out.

“I don’t
know,” I respond, lowering my gaze.  I sit cross legged in
the opposite corner, digging dirt out from under my nails.  I
hate being unclean.  Even with the possibility of washing once a
day I never feel completely clean in this dirty hole of a room.

Drach has not sent
for me since the day I arrived.  A part of me is offended by
this.  A purchased slave or not, I had not expected to be thrown
to the side for the next several months until I am ready to give
birth.  Obviously my expectations were far too high.

Bastien sighs and
releases his buckle, leaning back into the wall.  He looks
thinner than before.  Even with the food that is being provided
to us it isn’t enough.  Not for a man of his size.  And
what about my babies?  The near constant rumble in my own
stomach is enough to make me fear that I am starving them.

“Do you
remember the waterfall in the caves?” He says, surprising me
completely.

“Of course,”
I smile, wrapping my arms about me legs.  “It was one of
my favorite places to visit.”

His gaze is fixed on
the far wall, vacant and lost to the past.  “I think that
was the place where I first realized that I loved you.”

He turns to look at
me and I see a deep emotion welling inside of him.  “You
were taking a swim, probably thought you were completely alone.  I
didn’t tell you at first that I was there.  I just...I
wanted to watch you for a while.”

My cheeks flood with
heat and I glance away.  Bastien barks out a laugh and shakes
his head.  “It wasn’t like that.  It was dark
and you were already in the water when I arrived.  I couldn’t
really see anything.”

“Good to
know.”

He
smiles and rests his head back against the wall, staring up at the
ceiling instead.  “You were so beautiful.  There was
this...this essence about you that called to me.  Any time you
were around me you were always on guard.  You had a massive chip
on your shoulder and something to prove.”

“Prove what?”

His smile softens
and he rolls his head to the side to look at me.  “That
you didn’t need anyone.  Not Eamon.  Not me.  Not
anyone.  You were strong, the strongest person I had ever met,
but in that cave you weren’t trying to be anyone but yourself.
 You were at peace.  You were just you.  In that
moment you were simply breathtaking.  I could have watched you
for hours.”

“It’s a
good thing you didn’t.  I remember how cold that water
was.”

He smirks.  “Yeah,
well I may have pushed it a little bit once you realized I was there.
 You always did bring out the fight in me.”

I laugh.  “I’ve
got a knack for that it seems.  Eamon always says I’m his
little spit fire.”

The instant Eamon’s
name passes my lips I see Bastien retreat.  My smile falters and
I silently chide myself for hurting him.  Even though Eamon is
my husband and I miss him fiercely, I have tried not to speak of him
to Bastien.  The topic is obviously a hard one for him to
swallow.

I tug on the ends of
my hair.  “I don’t remember you watching me swim.”

“I know.”
 He sighs and looks away.  “But I’ve never
forgotten.”

I
look toward the window, knowing that the light is about to fade into
night.  No, not fade.  It’s almost as if someone
throws a switch and night falls instantly.  Soon the cold will
return and Bastien will come to hold me, his back pressed tightly
against mine to help keep me warm.  

“I miss that
cave.  I know to some it might seem silly to miss a dark and
dank cavern after having lived in a palace but it is who I am.  Who
I was born to be.”

Bastien nods in
understanding, no doubt thinking of his own home that he made for
himself in the subway tunnels under the city.  He has told me
that story several times and when he does I can still hear the pride
in his voice.  He created a life for himself amongst his enemy.
 I don’t know many men who could have done that.  “Do
you ever miss Earth?”

“Yes,” I
respond without hesitation.  “Every day.  I wonder
how the renovations are going.  What cities will be unearthed.
 How many new survivors we might discover still hidden away.”

“You want to
be part of all of that, don’t you?” he asks.  If
Eamon or Kyan had asked me that question I might have given myself a
moment to rephrase my answer in a way that it would not be upsetting
to them, but with Bastien I speak my mind.

“Of course.  I
spent my entire life fighting to survive, to protect what was ours.
 How could I not long to be there to see it finally restored?”

Bastien
drops his hands onto the floor on either side of him.  He runs
them over the uneven grains in the floor.  “Do you think
it ever will be?  Restored completely, I mean?”

“I hope so.”
 

After having spent
time with Bastien over the past couple of weeks I have accepted the
fact that he knows me far better than I would like.  At times
it’s almost scary how he can finish one of my sentences before
I ever know what to say.

He
knows about my abilities.  My weaknesses.  My strengths.
 My fears.  Although I may have no recollection of our time
spent together I no longer doubt the veracity of it.

“You should go
back,” he says, although I’m not really sure if he meant
for me to hear that or not.  It comes out as a mutter, low
enough for me to have to strain to hear it.  He looks up and
finds me watching him. The tips of his ears glow red through his
hair.  “I mean when we get out of this place.  You
and Eamon should visit.”

“Why do you do
that?”  I draw my legs up into my chest.  I find
comfort in this position more and more with each day that passes, as
if it is the only true way to hold myself together.

“Do what?”

“Say his name
like it’s something disgusting that you’ve found on the
bottom of your shoe?”

Bastien
winces and color flees momentarily from his fingers as he presses his
fingers hard against the ground.  “I don’t mean to.”

“But you do it
every time.”