Broken Skies (19 page)

The chatter is mostly from the strange priest, but Lir also contributes to the conversation. Amazingly, my alien friend is nearly as talkative. Maybe Peter’s rambling nature is contagious, or maybe they had plenty of time to get to know one another. Either way, I relax into my chair and enjoy just watching him talk and smile and laugh— Lir, not Peter.

Whether it’s my still fuzzy brain or just me, Peter is a little much for me. He starts off babbling on about one topic and then switches, often mid-sentence. In one verbal explosion he can cover three different topics and ask at least five different questions, none of which he actually gives me time to answer. Lir seems to have developed an ability to keep him somewhat on track, but I’m just working on perfecting my smile and nod, that and not falling asleep on my plate.

“Huh?” I force my drooping eyelids up. “What was that?”

“Oh my, you’re quite exhausted again aren’t you dear? I was telling you young people that I’ve got an old truck in the shed. I’ve kept it up and it still works, converted fuel and all. Might help you get to your destination sooner if you’d like to borrow it. That is, you do know how to drive, yes? Silly me, probably not. When would you have gotten a chance to learn after all?”

My tired mind at least picks up on the important bits. “You have a truck?” This is the best news I’ve gotten since this whole ordeal began.

Though I know Dane keeps a fleet of at least five, working vehicles are few and far between in this post-Collapse world. At least vehicles in the human sense of the word. There are plenty of ships that fly overhead carting around alien passengers.

“That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?”

Yeah, among a whole lot of other noise
. It’s hard, but I resist rolling my eyes. “Driving can’t be that hard. I can learn.”

Peter’s brow furrows and he looks at my leg. “It’s a manual though, you know stick shift.” At my blank look, he continues. “You have to use both legs, for driving. One for the pedals and one for the clutch. Probably wouldn’t matter much if it was your other leg, but the clutch on the old biddy is difficult, sticky, you’ve really gotta work it. With your injury…nope.” He turns in his seat. “What about you, my boy? Fancy learning how to drive a stick shift? Shouldn’t be too hard. I mean, the driving bit at least. I’m sure you all could get out on the road with no problem. I’ve even got a map that can take you right to the city. Gotta watch out for that band of ruffians. Very unpleasant. Just the other day--”

“What ruffians, Peter?” Lir smirks at me.

Hardly missing a beat Peter continues. “There’s about ten, maybe twenty. They don’t tend to bother me, I’m too old for their interests, but they aren’t anyone you want to run into. Mostly they stick to the old WalMart a few miles over, but lately they’ve been going further afield. A few of them crashed through the woods nearby a few hours before you showed up. Didn’t say much, just asked if I’d seen a girl traveling with…” His eyes go wider. “…an alien. Oh dear, they were looking for you. Those were the men you told me about, yes? The ones you had an altercation with? Well thank goodness you escaped, nasty characters those are.”

Lir leans across the table. “You say there are maybe as many as twenty of them? What else do you know about them?”

Peter fidgets in his chair and twists his fingers together. “The leader, his name is Lenny I believe. Big man, likes guns. His oldest son, Stuart, recruited some of the other guys and… I’m not entirely sure what their purpose is. He’s got a younger son too, just a kid really, Zach is his name. When he was younger he used to spend a lot of time here with me. I tried to teach him right from wrong, the Lord knows his brother hasn’t. Haven’t seen him in a while though. I think he’s joined up fully with whatever Stuart’s involved in now. I try to stay out of it mostly, but they’ve come through here…”

“And you’ve fed them. Or whatever else,” says Lir.

The rest of their conversation fades out around me. I don’t care that we missed them by mere hours. I focus on three simple words:
Just a kid
. Zach was just a kid and I killed him. Thunk. A gush of blood.

My stomach turns, the food now a lead weight. I stumble to my feet and limp quickly back to the bathroom. The cold tile makes my knees scream, but I have to get down there to puke up my lunch. Dammit. Just a kid.

Once I’ve relieved myself of my stomach contents, I sling my arm over the toilet seat and rest my forehead on it. Am I trembling from nerves or weakness? Sweat beads on my brow and my leg is screaming. Bed would be nice right about now.

Someone crouches down beside me, but I’m too tired to turn my head. Lir’s warm hand makes circles on my back and comfort flows from his touch.

“You did what you had to. It’s normal to feel guilty for that, but don’t let it tear you up like this.”

“I’m trying…it’s not just Zach…” I almost choke on the name. “…He’s not the only one. It just brings so much back to me and I don’t want it. I don’t want those memories.”

“I know.” I tilt my head to the side and he smiles softly. “They’re part of you though. You can’t shut them out forever.”

I’m sure he doesn’t mean it that way, but his words sound like an accusation. I close my eyes. That look of his, searching, pitying… I can’t see it right now. “I think I need to go back to bed. Rest up. I want to get out of here tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that a little soon? Your leg—”

“Jace has waited long enough.” My words are fast and harsh. “Besides, the ‘ruffians’ are bound to come back by here. We need to be gone well before they do.”

Lir nods. “Fine then.” He helps me to my feet. I want to protest, but there’s no way I’m getting there on my own.

Once I’m settled under the covers, he turns to leave the room. I know it’s wrong. I know that, despite Peter’s words, he’s not mine, but I can’t help the words that fall out of my mouth. “Don’t go.”

Lir faces me, eyebrow up, with a curious look on his face.

He’s been my life raft, my rock and I’m just selfish, too broken to have anything to offer him, but I need him. Some part of me calls out to him, craves the comfort he offers and I’m not strong enough to deny it. “I don’t want to be alone right now,” I say.

Without another word, Lir crawls into the bed beside me and wraps his arms around me. I rest my head on his chest and the rhythm of his breath sings me to sleep.

My sleep is restful and my dreams, though odd, aren’t frightening at all. I’m back at the cabin I shared with dad and Jace, feet propped up on the table and a book in my hands. Dad is cooking dinner and Jace is making silly faces over the edge of my book, trying to make me laugh. Normal enough scene, well at least years ago it was, but Dad and Jace aren’t quite solid, almost like shadows. I, however, am solid and I’m not the only one. My back rests against Lir.

Lir studies the cabin with wide eyes and then his emerald gaze focuses on me. That eyebrow of his rises and he smiles, a mixture of amusement and amazement on his face. He leans over me and strokes my cheek once before the dream shatters into green and gold and disappears.

* * * * * * *

The morning light slanting through the window wakes me. There’s still a dull pain in my leg, but I feel ten times better, stronger even. I hop out of bed and pause for a moment, waiting for the dizziness, the tiredness, something, but there’s nothing. It’s as if that one night of really good sleep and pleasant dreams restored me. Weird, but good, especially since I want to hit the road today.

Lir, still sleeping, looks so very peaceful, the most relaxed I’ve ever seen him. Tousled green curls frame his face and his lips are turned up in a lazy half smile. That look, it’s almost like the one he gave me in the dream, tender and sweet. If only he’d look at me like that when awake. What am I thinking?

I dash out of the room and into the kitchen. Thankfully, Peter must still be sleeping too.

Living room. Kitchen. Hallway. Repeat. My pacing doesn’t help my racing mind, but it gives me something to do. Why am I dreaming about Lir? Why do I care? Do I care if I care? The doubts and worries just keep piling on, getting even more nonsensical. What if I like him? Do I? Why don’t I even know? Shouldn’t I know?

On my next circuit, I run into Lir who’s exited the bedroom and stands in the hallway. He blinks a couple times and runs his hand through his sleep mussed hair.

“Morning.” The little half smile. The eyebrow.
Stop staring, Jax. It was just a dream.
“I think there’s something we need to talk about,” he says.

Oh no. Was I talking in my sleep? What if I grabbed him or something? I can’t deal with this right now. “Yup, there sure is…uhhh… your hair.”

“My hair?” His brow furrows.

“Yes, your hair.” More confident now. I smile and nod. Those guys are looking for an alien. Lir looks normal enough in Jace’s clothes and long sleeves could cover his
kitu
. He can almost pass for human. Then there’s his hair. I’ve seen some interesting hair colors, I mean mine is deep red after all, but I’ve never seen anyone with green hair. I reach up and feel a few strands, studying the color and the shape. “How would you feel about a haircut?”

“A haircut.” He goes from confused to almost…disappointed?

“Yeah, come on. I bet I can find some scissors.” I’m in luck. I find a large pair of poultry shears in the back of one of the kitchen drawers. I pull out a chair. “Sit.”

The eyebrow arches upwards. He’s transitioning back to amusement. Too bad it’s at the expense of my discomfort. “Should I be worried? I mean, I’d like to keep my ears please.”

I laugh and nudge his shoulder. “Just sit. I’ve got this.” Okay, so I really have no idea how to cut hair, but how hard can it possibly be?

It’s harder than I expected. Once I get the green tips cut off one side, I cut them off the other— it’s completely uneven, so I remove some more from the opposite side…. And so on. I can’t cut it too short at his neck otherwise his scales will be visible, but when I step back I have to burst out laughing at his new look.

Shorter on the sides and top and then curling down his neck. He looks ridiculous. Lir looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Do I even want to look in a mirror right now?”

“It might be best if I evened it up at your neck and we found you a bandanna or something to tie around it. I believe right now, you have what’s called a mullet.”

“A mullet huh?” Lir smiles. His eyes meet mine and I suck in a breath.

Without the oddly colored hair to distract from them, his eyes shine out like emeralds set in gold. They are amazing and clearly non-human. Too bright. Too perfect. And I lose myself in them. “Your eyes…” I whisper.

Lir fidgets on the chair. “I can’t really do anything about those.”

I reach out and put a hand on his cheek. He freezes, studying my face, his eyes the only thing about him that’s moving. “No, you can’t,” I say. “I hadn’t… They’re amazing.” Lir chuckles nervously, but doesn’t move away. There’s a lock of hair resting on his eyelash. “Close your eyes.”

Without a word, he does and I purse my lips to blow the hair away. Our faces are only inches apart and I can see every detail of his features. Without him watching me, I take the time to take it all in. Strong cheekbones and an angular jaw. A dusting of stubble, which, this close I can tell has a hint of green in it. Long eyelashes lining his still closed eyes. Golden. He’s truly gorgeous. I brush another lock of hair from his face and, before I know what I’m doing, I lean forward and press my lips to his. The heat of desire flares through me, but almost as quickly is extinguished by the sudden chill of fear. What am I doing?

Lir jerks back and opens his eyes. “Jax?”

My hand slaps over my mouth and I jump up and run out of the room. Out of the house. Just out. I can’t believe I did that. I’ve done some pretty stupid things, some pretty impulsive things, but this was topping the list. What that hell was I thinking? I wasn’t, that’s the problem.

Lir runs out of the house calling my name. He sees me at the end of the gravel drive and starts toward me, but I turn and run into the trees. “Jax, come back.”

I run full out, not caring, not wanting to think. Just run. I want to go home. I want to find Jace. I want… to kiss him again. My feet almost squeal against the dirt with my abrupt stop. Where did that thought come from? Random bursts of thought start to coalesce in my head, making more sense than before. I can’t run from this. I need Lir to get to Jace. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a whisper:
I need Lir
.
Period.

Turning back the way I came, my steps are much slower now. I’m not looking forward to discussing this with Lir. I round the corner and have to retreat. Lir is standing in the middle of the yard and four men have guns pointed at him. His hands are up, but it doesn’t look like the men are backing off. I haven’t been gone that long. How did they find us?

The bushes shield me from their view, but there’s not really anything I can do to help Lir. I can’t outrun a bullet and I’d be no good in a fight against all those guys. One man motions downward with his gun barrel and gives a command I can’t hear. Lir kneels. It’s beginning to look an awful lot like an execution.

SEVENTEEN

I’m really too far away to make out their faces, but none of the men look like Stu. That’s a start. Lir’s
kitu
is covered and his hair is mostly disguised. They might not know what he is.