Huntsman by Cambria Hebert
24
Virginia
Reason numberfive hundred and twelve on the list of why I need my own place: so physical therapists can’t walk into my room unannounced and declare it’s time for therapy, giving the perfect excuse for my thickheaded brother to hightail it out of the room like his backend was on fire without explaining why he suddenly announced the man who’d given me my very first kiss was a killer.
That was one hell of a sentence.
Imagine how my brain must have felt.
A first kiss. A sip of beer. Not one but two fights with my brother and the proclamation that a killer was among us all in a single day.
Look, I said I wanted some excitement in my life, but this was taking things a bit too far.
PT seemed harder than normal, probably because I was distracted, agitated, and mad my brother would make some sort of declaration like that and then leave.
Why would he call Earth a killer? What could he possibly mean by that? He didn’t mean like an actual killer?
Actions speak louder than words. My brother’s words stuck inside my brain as if he’d glued them there, and I couldn’t stop hearing them.
If I went by those words, then… actions… No. No. It couldn’t be. Earth, a killer? It was ridiculous. Sure, the guy was grumpy, moody, dark, and scared everyone, but he also listened to Monsta X and had a dog.
He did pull a knife on my brother. A knife from his boot.
And so round and round my thoughts churned all through physical therapy, a late dinner, a halfhearted conversation with Emogen, and a shower.
“What do you think, Zilla?” I asked the gecko who was perched on my right shoulder as I brushed through the length of my hair, which fell over my left. “You’ve met Earth. What do you think my brother meant by that?”
Zilla tilted her head.
“You’re right. I could call Earth and just ask him,” I replied. “But how do you just bring that up in a phone conversation? Asking him to kiss me was easier than asking him if he’s a killer,” I muttered.
Zilla turned around, facing away from me, and I sighed.
“Fine, we don’t have to talk about it.”
The brush continued gliding through my hair, the tangles having been brushed free long ago. Just the familiar act was grounding somehow.
Finally setting the brush aside, I worked deftly, not even needing the mirror to style my hair into a crown braid that wrapped around my head, securing the rest at the nape of my neck. It was late here, visiting hours long over, and not for the first time, I wished there was a window so I could catch a glimpse of the night city or even the moon.
Instead, I gazed at the giant mural Neo painted, the vivid tall tower rising out of a flower-covered meadow.
But it didn’t matter.
Mural, window, or even the moon wouldn’t be a good enough distraction for my mind to stray very long from Earth.
I thought about the way he’d reacted when Neo surprised him out on the sidewalk. How deft and graceful his movements were despite the precise way he was able to pin my brother down. I thought about the way the small blade he’d dug from the inside of his boot glinted off the sun.
He’d backed off immediately when he realized it was Neo.
Would he have backed off if it had been anyone else?
Moving to Zilla’s habitat, I carefully placed her inside. “Sweet dreams,” I told her. Almost immediately, she went into the little tent I’d gotten her at the pet shop I visited with Earth.
Once she was settled for the night, I moved a bottle of water onto my nightstand and switched off the overhead light.
At night, I slept with the bathroom light on, the door pulled around so it wasn’t too bright but it was still lit up enough for me to be able to see. I would have preferred a completely dark room, but on occasion, I woke up and needed a drink or the bathroom. After a few times of falling out of bed in the attempt to transfer to my chair in complete darkness, I decided a dim light was best. I could have used the flashlight on my phone, but the battery wasn’t always reliable.
There were even a few times when I would settle myself into bed and then realize I’d forgotten to turn off the light at all or pull the bathroom door around. By then, I was usually too tired or too lazy to move, so I’d just have to sleep in a bright room.
Yes, there was night staff here I could call for, but I didn’t do that. Not unless I really had to. I tried to be as independent as possible, and I wanted to be able to rely on myself.
The room was dim as I transferred myself onto the bed with the colorful quilt. I lifted one leg and then the next onto the bed. After pulling down the sheet and comforter, I used my upper body to scoot toward the middle of the mattress, then moved my legs, one by one again, beneath the blankets.
After arranging the pillows and covers the way I liked them, I lay back, letting out a long exhale. It always felt good to lie down at first, to feel my tight muscles relax against the cool sheets on the bed. Because of my paralysis, I slept in the same position all night. I couldn’t roll over or twist around like most people.
Sometimes I did feel the urge to roll, and I would maneuver myself onto my side, tucking a pillow between my legs. No, I couldn’t feel it, but it seemed it would be a more comfortable position for my legs.
Mostly, I just slept on my back, a position that had taken some getting used to, but after seven years, it was just natural now.
Sleeping in the same position for an entire night might seem restful because your body is completely still, but in truth, I often woke up with muscle cramps and spasms, and those sometimes hurt.
Upon waking every day, I would do a routine of stretches to help work out some of the stiffness that a night’s sleep always gave.
A slim ray of light stretched across the ceiling from the ajar bathroom door, and I gazed at it, imagining instead I was under a sky filled with luminous stars. I envisioned a velvet sky so black I would marvel at how it didn’t swallow up the glittering stars that were so small in comparison but still so brilliantly bright.
My lashes began to flutter, sweeping across my cheeks. My palms, which rested on my abdomen, rose and fell rhythmically with every breath I took.
Warmth tingled my lips, making them curl in on themselves, and then I was tumbling into a dreamlike sensation, floating in the vivid memory of what it had been like beneath Earth’s kiss. Impossibly, I felt weightless, recalling how he claimed me without a single word, how he licked into my mouth, tangling our tongues as though they were two halves of a whole.
I’d requested a first kiss, an experience I didn’t have.
He set an expectation. A standard by which every kiss I might ever have would have to live up to. It was unfair really because, even with my inexperience, I understood something very profoundly.
No one else could ever compare.
The harsh realization caused my eyes to fly open. It took a moment to focus, but when I was able, I was back to staring at the light stretching across the ceiling, consumed with the hollow feeling of loneliness.
Blowing out a shuddering breath, my mind started to race once more.
A killer? He couldn’t be. No one who kissed with that much emotion could be that devoid of life.
“When I see Neo tomorrow, I’m going to kick him,” I vowed, knowing full well I’d have to hit him instead. “How dare he leave me to wonder all night long?”
Turning my head, I glanced at my cell lying facedown on the nightstand and debated calling him. “He deserves to get woken up! If I can’t sleep, then he shouldn’t either,” I muttered darkly.
Thud!
My head lifted from the pillow, looking at the closed door of my room.
Crash!
Shatter!
Pushing up into a sitting position, I stared at the door, alarmed by the violent sounds beyond it.
More shattering glass echoed in the hall, and my fingers twisted in the sheet. What was going on out there?
“Ahh!” A deep, angry roar echoed through the Tower, and my stomach dropped.
The sudden twisting of the handle of my door made panic seize my throat. Lifting a hand to press against my neck, I stared in horror as the handle without a lock turned and the door pushed in.
“Ahh!” Crash! Thud!
“Please, no,” I whimpered, terrified in a way I’d never been before.
I glanced around for something, anything I could use as a weapon, seeing very little. Suddenly, the fact I had no lock on that door wasn’t just an intrusion of privacy but a genuine threat to my safety.
Flinging my upper body forward, I was able to grab my phone. The charger clattered against the floor with the force of my grab, but I didn’t stop to worry about the sound. Instead, I threw myself back into the corner of the bed, sitting up against the wall.
Another shout. More sounds of things breaking.
The handle turned again, this time with more force.
Despite the tremor in my hands and the unsteady breath filling my lungs, I tapped the screen on my phone, wincing at the way it illuminated as I used it.
The door unlatched, pushing in not enough to open but enough to make a strangled sound rip from my throat.
A voice on the other end of the line yelled something, but the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears made it hard to make out the words.
Or maybe it was the sound of someone still screaming.
“H-h-help.” I wheezed into the line, praying he could hear me. Praying he would come.
I heard him call my name.
But then the door to my room pushed in, and whatever/whoever was in the Tower invited itself in.