Page 12 of Dead By Dusk

Turning around, I watch her retreating form for a moment before following her. She doesn’t say anything when I catch up, and that’s well enough since I need another moment to think about what she said. I realize that I went back for her out of pure instinct after having been warned away from everyone. Some part of me had to recognize that we knew each other already. But how? So far we have vastly different reactions to everything around us. I’m all harsh lines and cold demeanor while she feels warm, curious and soft around the edges. My base instincts are to fight and solve problems, whereas hers are to have a mental breakdown. She is also very obviously not well acquainted with anything to do with cardio. All of these things point to the fact that there’s no way we could know each other from work. Our features are also far too different for us to be related in any way. But other than those two scenarios, I don’t know how else we might know each other well enough to be going on runs together.

“How do you know for sure?” The question comes out harsher than I intend it to, and she flinches a little, stumbling over feet and then rushes to regain her balance. Her breathing is still slightly heavier than I think it should be for how often we’ve stopped and how little distance we’ve covered, but I don’t focus too much on that while waiting for her answer. I let my eyes drift to our surroundings for a moment, ensuring that it’s still just the two of us, and when I’m confident I haven’t overlooked anything, I bring my gaze back to her and find her hands fidgeting before she aggressively rubs them on the baggy material of her too big zip up jacket. She doesn’t make any move to look back at me.

Instead of pushing the matter, I decide that the answer can wait until we stop somewhere. I did, in fact, just make a whole point about her conserving her breath for running and not giving away our location by talking, so following up that whole speech with a question of my own is a little hypocritical. I wouldn’t wantto answer myself if I were her either. Picking up my pace so I’m back in front of her, I start guiding us to the left to change up our direction.

We do that a couple more times before eventually slowing to a brisk walk while the sun begins to set, deciding to search for more suitable shelter to stop for the night. With the dense canopy of trees, we are granted very few daylight hours which I hate to waste, but Carmen needs the break. And if we’re unable to see anything, then the others from the house must also face the same predicament, which means there’s three less people I need to worry about finding us tonight.

We find a cluster of trees closer together than most with an ivy-covered one felled in front. It’s as good a spot to camp as any. Once we’re sitting down and settled across from one another, I’m startled by how small her voice sounds when she finally begins speaking. Her words are slow—tentative even.

“You asked how I know for sure, and to be honest, I don’t know.” I open my mouth to ask her how she could make the guess then, but I promptly shut it again when she looks down to her lap and shakes her head.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it at all. But, it felt like a memory that was just out of reach. Something trying to float to the surface but just falling short. Regardless of its shortfall, it still felt right. Even if trying to breathe felt like I was swallowing a million grains of sand. Even if it always feels that way, I can’t let any word be left unsaid.”

“Why not?” I ask, just as softly as she had been speaking, though it feels as if I might already know the answer.

“Because I don’t think I’m meant to survive.” This answer, unlike her earlier explanation, is said with such resolution that it doesn’t just seem like a thought; it seems like she’s certain.

I respond by saying, “I don’t think any of us are meant to survive this,” but she gives me a wan smile in return. One that’sforced and doesn’t feel like something that should ever cross her features, but her smile is light. It’s understanding and sad, and her gaze feels like one you’d get from someone much older and wiser. The all-knowing-ness of it all throws me off before a wave of grief overcomes me, because only someone who has experienced horrible things would have eyes so haunted. How much have I misjudged her already?

“That’s not what I meant.”

I don’t get a chance to squeeze in another question before she goes to lay down next to the fallen tree with her back toward me leaving me to wonder what she meant.

The air around us is warm, unseasonably so, but I’m thankful nonetheless. The fog had slightly dissipated in the past several hours, but between the heavy mist and sweating from running, I know that any colder weather would result in the possibility of catching a cold with how damp my clothes have gotten along with my lack of sleeves. Nothing terrible, but it would be mildly annoying given the current circumstances. Running through a forest with a clogged and runny nose, only able to breath through my mouth while sneezing every thirty seconds sounds less than ideal on a good day.

Carmen fell asleep a few hours ago, her soft, even breathing a sure indicator of as much, and nothing has happened around us since. No snapping twigs, no crunching leaves, no voices. There’s nothing. It should put me on high alert, but my eyes grow heavier and heavier by the minute, and it takes a massive effort to reach out and lightly grab her arm. I don’t expect the reaction, but she jolts awake and quickly sits up, whipping her head from side to side. I doubt she can see much in the inky blackness of the night before she tracks my outstretched arm and realizes that it’s me. Her shoulders sag with relief. She stretches out her muscles, and then switches positions with me.

“Remember, if you hear anything at all, you need to wake me up. Understood?”

She just looks at me, unimpressed that I feel the need to say it, before she looks up to the sky, hidden by the branches of the surrounding trees. “It’s curious, isn’t it? How we fear the vicious things that lurk in the dead of night. But I feel it’s usually during the day that you find yourself needing somewhere to hide. True monsters don’t need the cover of shadows. They’re usually standing in front of you, waiting for you to see them.”

I think about what she just said, but decide not to question her. Thus far, every question I’ve asked has yielded yet another question.

“Sleep, Si. I’ll wake you if something comes along.”

Not too long after I situate myself, laying down with my back pressed firmly against the fallen tree, and my body facing her, I find myself in sleep’s embrace.

“Ronan, you need to listen to me,” I exclaim, with an urgency that isn’t like me. Usually, I’m a picture of cool and calm, but something about me seems off. My long, curly hair is thrown up in an extremely messy bun, my shirt is wrinkled, and I hadn’t had the time to throw on anything more than a pair of workout shorts before he had shown up at my door.

“I just think what you’re saying seems a little improbable. Do you even have any proof? You know I want to believe you, but what you’re insinuating is…I just—”

“Is it so hard to believe given our line of work? If he’d hire us for the things we do, then is this so far removed from reality? Is it so far outside of what he could be capable of? Just think about it, Ronan. I have paperwork upstairs, I’ve been doing a lot of research, and I just think it’s worth investigating more. I don’t know why you’re not willing to even—”

“And this is where I cut you off. This sounds crazy.” I suck in a harsh breath. Neither one of us dares to speak for a minute.This moment feels like a pivotal one. It feels like the Earth has shifted beneath my feet. I don’t know why, but it feels wrong. Those words don’t feel like they can belong to him, yet they do.

“I’m not crazy,” is my only response. My voice sounds small. Smaller than I would ever think myself capable of, but it’s the only sign of hurt that I let myself show. It’s more than I’d reveal in front of anyone else, honestly. Only for him do I allow myself to come undone— to show even this small level of vulnerability. Only for him, because he is the one who showed me there’s a strength in it.

His gaze softens, as realization dawns on him that his choice in words hurt more than he intended. His all-encompassing deep blue eyes scan my face and take in my unkempt appearance before he locks his hands behind his head while looking up at the ceiling of the living room of the small apartment I keep under a different name. A small part of me recognizes his posture as a sign of an internal battle that he’s fighting right now. A battle where he’s fighting himself to choose me. One that I hope ends in my favor.

He turns his back to me, ready to start pacing, but I bring my hand to his bicep and stop him. One touch from me, that’s all it takes. He lets his arms drop down to his sides, exhaling deeply, before turning his piercing gaze first to my hand, probably noting my bitten fingernails, and then towards my face. I’m not sure what he sees when our eyes lock, but I do know that whatever it is, is convincing enough for him to agree to see things my way. Or to at least really try to hear me out.

His opposite hand takes hold of the one I have yet to remove from his arm before he faces me, brings my knuckles to his mouth, and leaves the lightest of kisses on them, leaving his mouth close enough for his lips to continue grazing my skin before giving me the smallest of nods. “Okay. I can’t say I’m fully onboard without seeing hard proof, but I’ve never seenyou like this. So if you want to show me what you found, I’ll keep an open mind.”

“Yeah?” The smallest of smiles lifts upon my lips as I look at him, praying that the evidence I have is enough.

“For you?Always, Killer. Always.”

The sound of a snapping branch rips me from my dream, but when I turn my head toward the sound, I see that it’s just Carmen shifting her position. The sun is peeking out from between branches, and I take that as my cue to get up. We don’t have time to spare, and every bit of daylight needs to be utilized. Giving myself a moment to stretch, I wince at the pain that still radiates through the back of my neck. I massage my fingers into the affected area, hoping I’m able to rub it out, but it doesn’t do much other than cause a violent shiver to run down the length of my spine.

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