The vampire sat at the outside table they'd eaten at earlier, his posture relaxed but his gaze intently fixed on their approaching group. Finch stood next to him, hand braced on the table as he glanced back and forth between the vampire and the others, as if trying to gauge the situation.
“He really does have no intention to harm you,” Adin explained. “He’s a strange creature, but a lot nicer than you would likely expect a vampire to be.”
Kimber crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll kill him if he touches me. You don’t know if I can or can’t, do you?”
“I don’t, though I would love to learn more about what you can do. Are you unique, like me, or are there others like you?”
“There are others,” Kimber murmured, unsure whether this was information he should be giving up so easily.
As Finch drew Adin into a conversation, Ryan stepped up beside Kimber. After watching the exchange dispassionately for a few minutes, he turned to Kimber and gestured towards the bus. Kimber followed.
Ryan stepped onto the bus like it was nothing and didn’t look back. Kimber hesitated at the threshold.
Everything in this world seemed so new and pristine. Kimber had never really considered how things might have looked when they were new, without the rust, dirt, or wear he was accustomed to. He'd seen cars, machinery, and electronics before, but they were all old, repaired over and over again to within an inch of their lives.
With a deep sigh, Kimber stepped onto the bus. What choice did he have? Trusting anyone felt like madness, and he wasn’t sure if it made things better or worse that the people he was putting his trust in were not human or mage or anything else he’d even heard of before. Initially, he'd assumed Ryan must be human because he could feel the energy emanating from him, settling into his bones and balancing him out, but then Ryan had dragged them through the ground into some incomprehensible void and really complicated the issue. Finch seemed like he should be human, but when he'd carried Kimber most of the way back, Kimber had felt nothing, so clearly he wasn’t. Shadow kept disappearing, Luther was a vampire, and Adin had antlers sprouting from his head. It was a very strange group indeed. How was he supposed to even begin to understand these people when each one of them was their own puzzle?
Kimber followed Ryan to a small table and sat across from him. Were they on good terms now? It seemed there should be a great deal of lingering distrust between them, but Ryan appeared unconcerned.
Ryan met Kimber's gaze with dark, tired eyes, his eyebrows lifting in what felt more like an attempt at wordless communication than a challenge. He had a weary sort of ease about him.
Kimber's eyes darted to the door as Adin ducked onto the bus, mindful not to knock his antlers. The smile he gave Kimber felt a little forced. "There you are. Luther will drive until morning, so you won't have to worry about him for now. Not that you need to at any point, but your fear is understandable."
Kimber didn’t see any point in questioning that, so he chose a different topic. “How do you speak our language so well if you’ve been away for so long? Wouldn’t you forget?”
A smile spread across Adin’s face, this one more genuine. He leant back against the kitchen cabinets on the opposite side of the bus. “The man who took me in when I first arrived here wasn’t perfect, especially not by today’s standards, but one thing that I was very lucky about was that he saw how important it would be for me to hold onto my own language. Most people back then wouldn’t have seen things that way. I still use it for all of my personal notes.”
"Is it really that important? Didn't you say it was rare for two people to come from the same place?"
“I suppose the reasons are more…” He clucked his tongue. “I don’t know the word in our language. I was very well-read as a child, but there are some words I simply don't have. The reasons to hold onto it aren't practical ones. Language is a part of culture, and it's important to remember our roots."
"Mm," was all Kimber said in response. He wouldn’t mind forgetting his. He wished he could face the world with the same calm confidence that someone like Ryan exuded. Instead, he felt more like a cornered animal, desperate and flighty, caught between a kind of cowed submission and a willingness to lash out when threatened.
Finch stepped onto the bus, and a moment later, the engine roared to life. Kimber opened his mouth to tell them they had forgotten someone, but before he could utter a word, his eyes found Shadow standing in plain sight right next to Finch. The way he could appear and disappear without warning should have been more alarming, but Kimber's brain seemed to accept it with an unnatural ease.
"There are bunks in the back if you want to sleep or just have some time to yourself," Adin said. "I don't sleep, so I'll be here whenever you want to talk. I would be very interested in hearing about what's become of our world in the time I've been gone."
"I'd like to go and lay down," Kimber murmured.
Adin nodded. "Understandable. Perhaps we can talk more tomorrow, after you've had some rest."
"Yeah," was all Kimber said in reply. Ryan's eyes followed him as he got up and turned towards the back of the bus.
Pushing aside a curtain, Kimber found two sets of bunk beds, each equipped with their own curtain for privacy. Had anyone claimed any of them? He almost went back out to ask, but he couldn’t stomach more conversation. He chose the bottom left bunk, took off his shoes and set them neatly beside it, and climbed in, drawing the curtain shut behind him.
He didn't know how to feel about any of this. Overjoyed, probably. He was alive and unharmed in a place where it seemed like maybe, just maybe, he could be free. It all felt too sudden, too jarring, too different. He'd made a desperate, hopeless attempt to run away so that he could be with his own people. He'd thought that was what he'd been fighting for. This had been his prize instead. Considering how close he'd come to death, he felt a little guilty for feeling anything but grateful.
The whole thing was just a lot to process and, more than ever, he didn't want to die. He didn't want things to turn sour. He desperately wanted this to be something good. After living a life of such cruelty, it felt hard to believe that was possible.
#
It was well after dark by the time Malyn found what he’d been looking for: an area with free camping. It was easier, knowing they’d be setting up camp somewhere they were allowed to. He wished they could have done things like this back before everything fell apart, but maybe stocking up on more happy memories would have only made all this more painful. People always said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but was that really true? Parents of two healthy kids were usually happier than parents of two healthy kids and one dead kid, so was it really better to lose a loved one than to never have had them? Maybe it was just something people said to make themselves feel better.
Or maybe it was because once you had someone, letting go wasn’t so easy. He wouldn't have wished away his memory of Tyla, no matter how much it hurt.
Malyn rode the bike deeper into the campsite until he found a secluded corner hidden behind some trees where they could have some privacy.
He still followed their little ritual of helping Tyla with his helmet and jacket, slower and gentler now than ever before. Tyla cupped his hand in front of his stomach and formed a small light, just enough to see by.
“I picked up some food at the gas station,” Malyn said as he draped the jacket over the back of the bike. “It’s just fruit for you, honestly. They didn’t have much in the way of vegan stuff, and I know processed shit doesn’t sit well with you.”
“Fruit is good,” Tyla murmured.
“Yeah, you always seem to think so. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t survive on what you eat for nutritional reasons I don’t actually understand, but your body’s quite different from mine, so I guess you need different things.” Malyn opened up the saddle bags and pulled out the plastic bag containing his gas station purchases. Fruit for Tyla and a cheese and salad sandwich that was looking pretty sad and soggy at this point for him. He passed Tyla the sleeping bags so that he could lay them out and then went to buy some firewood from the dispenser in the middle of the campgrounds to light the little metal fire pit that sat at the centre of their chosen spot.
Malyn's heart ached as he crouched to light the fire, Tyla sitting cross-legged and holding out his little light so that Malyn could see. They had spent so much time together as friends, but now, in their final moments together, Malyn was getting a tantalising sliver of a taste of what he had truly wanted all along. And then it would all be over, Tyla would be gone, and Malyn wasn't sure what he would do about that.
He had always been one to pick up the pieces, put on a smile, and really, truly mean it. Bouncing back was something he was good at, and he had seen his share of dark days. Maybe nothing like what Finch had been through, but life hadn’t been kind or easy where he was from. It snuffed life out with brutal routine, and it’d take you next if you let yourself be weak.
But, in a lot of ways, Malyn had let himself become weak. Sure, actual danger didn’t scare him, but he’d grown used to keeping the people he loved. He’d come to expect it, despite the dangerous work they did. Tyla wasn’t dying, and he was very glad of that, but it still felt like that in many ways. Like something to be grieved.
They ate their food on the sleeping bags in silence, sitting side by side. Malyn had to keep reminding himself to take mouthful after mouthful of his sandwich until it was gone. He wasn't hungry. When he finished, he sat and stared at the fire.
Malyn felt Tyla's hand settle on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch, craving the comfort. Tyla shuffled their sleeping bags closer together, shifting nearer, and Malyn wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
It felt only natural when Tyla twisted and pressed their lips together. Malyn knew they shouldn't, but he couldn't bring himself to push Tyla away. He placed a hand between Tyla's shoulder blades and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.
Tyla melted into him, and before Malyn knew it, Tyla was in his lap, pressing their bodies together. Maybe they needed this, one moment to truly be together before it was all over. Or maybe it was a terrible idea. Malyn found it increasingly difficult to care which one of those was true as Tyla's hands worked their way under his clothing.
Malyn had never done anything like this before, but his body seemed to know exactly what it wanted. It craved skin against skin, friction, and his mouth against Tyla's, and Tyla was more than happy to oblige. By the time they were naked, Tyla was on top of him, his light frame doing little to hold Malyn down.
Malyn had expected them to rub and fumble their way to some kind of conclusion. What he didn't expect was for Tyla to leverage himself up, grab hold of Malyn's cock, and press the tip of it against flesh that was in no way prepared to accept it with enough force to be uncomfortable.
Malyn grabbed hold of Tyla’s hips and held him up so that he couldn’t push down anymore. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
Tyla shook his head and murmured something about it being okay as he squirmed in Malyn's grip, still focused on continuing what he had been trying to do.
Malyn didn't let him. Tyla was light, and constantly drawing a bow had gifted Malyn with strong arms. He wasn't going anywhere Malyn didn't allow. "I said stop."
Tyla's eyes leaped to his and locked on. Malyn had thought that Tyla was completely out of it, lost in whatever the bond was doing to his head, but that word seemed to get his attention.
"Stop," Malyn tried again. "I don't want to do this."
Malyn could have tossed Tyla off at any time, but he was relieved when he rolled off on his own. He looked confused and a little upset, but when Malyn handed him his shorts, he put them back on.
They both dressed, and then Malyn picked up one of the sleeping bags and took it to the other side of the fire pit. They couldn't play games with this. For Tyla, these were more than just simple feelings he could control. This was a magical compulsion pushing him in directions that could lead to him getting hurt. Malyn had to be the one who kept his head.
"We should get some sleep," Malyn said across the fire pit because he didn't know what else to say.
Tyla nodded. He lay down, but he still looked stiff, not himself. Malyn ached with guilt for not seeing it immediately. He should have checked in the moment Tyla had started getting physical, but he had let his libido crowd out his thoughts. He wanted to hug Tyla and cry and apologise, but he didn’t think his words would get through and he was worried about what might happen if Tyla got upset when he was so confused.
Malyn doused the fire, then he crawled into his sleeping bag and shut his eyes. He wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.
Comments (13)
See all