The Woman They Kept (16 page)

...

Gideon cursed the growing clouds
overhead as he raced along the road. The ocean was to his left, the
stink of it wafting over him. Rolanda seemed to have forgotten to
stay still on the back of the motorcycle, she was waving her hands
this way and that, causing the bike to swerve dangerously. He tried
to ignore it but when she suddenly shouted out with happiness he
took a hill too fast and his front wheel briefly left the ground.
It was only dumb luck that he was able to keep the bike under
control.

It began to rain in the last
mile before Elmar. The scarf took the brunt of the burning drops of
water, he kept his eyes squinted so that nothing could get in and do
serious damage. When they pulled into the port of Elmar he brought
out a bottle of water and poured it over his face, flushing out his
eyes. He could still feel little pins and pricks burning him where
the scarf hadn't covered, but the coolness of the clean water
helped. His skin felt raw.

“
Save some for me,”
Rolanda said when she pulled off her helmet. Her smile was wide and
her eyes were manic. “That was fun! Can we go for another
ride soon?”

Gideon's face throbbed and he
closed his eyes for a moment. “Rolanda, I almost went blind
doing that run, do you not even see that?”

With her fingertips she pulled
her smile down at the corners. “In the wind all the spiders
got blown from my hair, they couldn't hold on.”

Gideon brushed his fingers
through her hair. “What spiders? What are you talking
about?”

“
You can't see them, but
they'll catch up soon.” She squatted down in the dirt while
Gideon packed the motorcycle into one of the parking cubbies. When
he came out she had drawn a little portrait of herself.

“
What are you doing?”
Gideon asked. “We have to get going, we have to find a place
to stay.”

“
I'm drawing a picture so
that I'll know I was here. Pretty little picture, pretty little
life. I existed.”

Gideon sat down next to her.
She looked like Rolanda, she had the long sweeping golden locks of
hair, the high proud cheekbones, the same curve of her breasts and
waist, but something had changed. Before all this happened when he
would look into her eyes there was a quiet intensity, a reserved and
deeply intelligent curiosity about the world around her, they were
so sharp it was sometimes hard to look at them straight on. Now
something was slanted, opaque within them. He found himself
thinking that Leanin would never have allowed herself to be changed
in that way. People that strong broke the world, not the other way
around. Gideon shook the thought away.

“
Storm's coming,”
Rolanda said.

“
We're under Elmar's dome,
we should be alright.”

Turning her head sideways,
Rolanda smiled. She stretched out her hands like a child and Gideon
knelt and embraced her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Her smell reminded him of the flowers of Cormac, the little purple
ones he never learned the names of. For a moment he was transported
back there, tapping at her window to get her to sneak out with him.
Rolanda petted the back of his head. “Hush, hush. Thunder
can't hurt you. It's the rain you have to worry about. The drop
drop drop of it wears you away until you're gone.”

He allowed himself a few moments
of comfort before he had to start thinking of what they were going
to do next.

...

Gideon convinced the owner of
the Rusty Spur Saloon to rent them the room above the bar for a
night. It was small, with a single mattress stained brown from
sweat and an open shower in the corner, but it was indoors and
secluded. The floorboards creaked with every step they took and the
paint on the walls was peeling away in large chunks.

“
It smells sad,”
Rolanda said, her nose crinkling.

“
You can't smell sadness,
Rolanda. Sadness is a feeling.” Gideon threw his bag down by
the side of the bed and pulled out a map. “I've got the track
marked on here, we're going to have to avoid it at all costs if we
hope to get back to Cormac.” He took out a pencil and began
tracing possible routes. It would be hazardous no matter which
route they took, avoiding the track meant avoiding major bubbles and
spending their time in little, mostly forgotten about places.

“
You can too smell
sadness. It's sour, and sweaty, with a little bit of urine,”
Rolanda said.

Gideon cocked an eyebrow at her
and then ignored her, studying the lines on his map. There was too
much to do, he couldn't worry about her psyche just yet.

With a sudden movement Rolanda
stuck her nose into his hair and smelled him deeply. “You've
got the smell on you.” She sniffed at herself. “I
wonder if I do too? This whole room reeks of it.”

Later that night they curled up
on the little mattress together, sharing a bed for the very first
time. Her body was molded against him, perfectly enveloped in his
embrace. A bare blanket covered them, and the softness of her skin
made his body react unconsciously. He placed a hand on her breast,
reaching under her shirt and cupping it gently. Softly, she pulled
his hand away and moved over on the bed.

He followed her, his body awake
and insistent, and he put an arm around her and kissed the back of
her neck. “Gideon, don't,” she said in a whisper.
Trailing an open palm across her flat stomach and down the outside
of her thighs, he persisted. She tried to pull away again but he
turned her and lay on top of her, forcing her legs open with his
knees, kissing her neck softly. Rolanda pushed and kicked at him,
turning until she was off the bed. “I told you, I don't want
it!”

Gideon lay back. His senses had
clouded for a moment, driven by his desire. “What's wrong
with me? You've been through this before with men you didn't love,
and then when you're with the man you're supposed to love you don't
want it? Why not me?”

Rolanda's eyes filled with
tears. “I didn't want the others, and I do love you.”
She turned to the small window and rubbed away some dirt to look out
into the night. “Gideon, are you still a virgin? Have you
waited for me?”

A high flush rose in his cheeks.
Suddenly he wanted there to have been a thousand women before her,
so she could feel what he felt. He thought briefly about his night
with Leanin, how it could have ended, and then he sighed. “Yes,
Rolanda, I am.”

She pushed a hair behind her ear
and turned back to him. “Well, I'm not. That was taken from
me. I don't want to have our first night together in some dirty
room above a bar just because you have an itch that I can scratch.”

They went back to
bed again, leaving a few inches of space between themselves. Both
wanted to be held but neither went to comfort the other. The sounds
of the bar, the laughter and the music from the jukebox, played
through the paper thin walls. Eventually they fell asleep, alone
and cold.

In the morning they dressed and
ate in silence, avoiding looking at each other. Gideon had a route
planned out that would take them a while to get home, but also would
help them avoid major cities and areas that were too desolate. They
took a bit of time to properly outfit Rolanda with riding gear
before loading up and heading out. The next stop on their trip was
a small bubble named Dagmar.

Gideon found himself thankful
that the riding was as difficult as it was. The trail went over
rocky terrain and down through river beds, climbing steep hills and
through barren plains. It took all of his concentration to stay on
the road and moving, he was unable to think of a single other thing,
and he was grateful for that. He was so thankful for the riding
that he skipped any sort of meal break and rode straight on into the
night.

The sun had gone down completely
when he began to look for a place to camp. He had to strain his
eyes, the light from the front of the motorcycle only gave off a
pale beam for him to see, and his vision was tired and blurry.
Everything about him ached, and that was a good thing. He wanted to
be so exhausted when they set down for camp that the minute he lay
his head on the pillow he would fall asleep.

Rounding a bend on a low hill
his luck ran out; his wheel struck an unseen rock, lifting the bike
up and off the road. If it had been during the day he would have
seen the obstacle and been able to avoid it easily, but it wasn't.

Gideon had the momentary
sensation of flying, his insides feeling weightless, as though time
had simply stopped and all laws of the universe no longer applied.
Then gravity came rushing back and a flash of light blinded him as
something struck the back of his head and then everything went dark.

...

Leanin's bike was well equipped
to travel off-road. Where Gideon's could go faster and had a better
sense of balance, it did not have as high a clearance as Leanin's
did. After she zapped Gideon with the electric truncheon she got on
her motorcycle and went off the beaten path, where Gideon would have
a hard time following.

She rode only a few minutes away
before stopping and throwing her helmet down into the dirt. Every
fiber of her was enraged, she could have killed him for what he had
done.

Eventually she calmed, taking
several moments to just breathe. He had come back, that was true,
and though it had felt like ages, in reality it was probably only a
minute or two before he came in guns blazing. He had come up with a
plan, a good plan, she just didn't like that she had played a part
without knowing it. Leaning against her motorcycle she chewed on a
piece of dried beef. Her anger had faded, though she still felt
that she owed him a good hard slap across the face.

After about an hour of resting
her ears perked up at the sound of a motorcycle in the distance.
Though she didn't want to see him just yet the damn fool was liable
to get himself killed without her. She put on her helmet and kicked
her bike to life.

...

Rolanda had been thrown clear,
landing softly in the dust; the bike flew away from her and shut
down as it hit the ground. She laughed loudly, unable to help it.
Her heart was racing and her skin had gained a prickly sensation.
Beyond the hill a light shone and then turned off. Cursing softly,
a shadow walked toward her.

“
Hello, little shadow,”
Rolanda said, lifting the visor of her helmet. “I've seen you
back there, following us.”

The shadow pulled off her
helmet, short black hair falling around a sharp face. “Rolanda,”
Leanin said. “Have you told Gideon that you've seen me?”

Rolanda smiled at her. “His
world is much too dark to see shadows.”

Leanin propped up Gideon's head
gently and undid the straps on his helmet, feeling at his neck for a
pulse. “Fool was asking for this to happen, riding so long
into the night.” Tracing a finger in the dirt, Rolanda
shrugged.

As Leanin was making him
comfortable, taking off his shoes and balling up her jacket for a
pillow, Gideon's eyes fluttered open. “Leanin,” he said
groggily, “I dreamed of you. I hoped I would get a chance to
explain things.”

Leanin pulled out a stout little
knife and held it against his cheek. Gideon blinked away his
grogginess. “This is a warning, Gideon. If I hear you try to
explain things to me I'll start taking fingers off you.” She
sliced at his cheek, leaving a small cut that trickled out blood.
Gideon gasped at the sudden pain. “Now, can you sit up? Does
anything feel broken?”

He began moving slowly,
stretching this way and that, testing his limbs. “I think
it's just bruises. You know, aside from the bleeding cut on my
face.”

“
You want another?”
Leanin asked, holding the knife up, her lips curled in a half smile.

Gideon held out his hand for her
to help him up. “It's good to see you.” Rolanda was
busy playing with the dirt, making a little drawing of three figures
and two motorcycles.

They built a fire and sat around
it, the three of them equidistant from each other, eating dried
pieces of beef and staring into the flames. Gideon kept looking
from Rolanda to Leanin, neither of them looking back at him.
Rolanda was concentrating on something in her palm, her mouth moving
silently.

Was it really Rolanda there,
sitting across the fire from him? Gideon wasn't sure. The woman
had Rolanda's face, and hair, and body, but something deep inside
had been changed. He couldn't stop looking at her eyes, trying to
figure out how they were different. They had an unfocused, uneven
quality to them, but that wasn't it, not exactly.

Leanin looked sharp, but she had
ever since they first banded together. Her jaw was angled, her
muscles tense, even when sitting around a fire. There was a
dangerous sort of beauty about her, though. Looking at her gave
Gideon a strange little thrill in the bottom of his stomach.

“
Where did you go?”
he asked.

Leanin's eyes cut to him,
piercing in their intensity. “I was following. I wanted to
think about some things. What do you know about that Akem guy?”