“I’m not worried about creepy gibberish. I’m worried about people—mainly our friends—getting maimed or killed or worse when he cracks. And he will crack.” He paused and continued, “I don’t want hurting him on my conscience, either. I never thought I’d say this, but I feel sorry for him.”
“We’re not going to hurt him. He’s going to help us. He’s a great resource.” Jenn shrugged off the sleeping bag and started rooting around for her clothing. “Despite being the painfully polite and chivalrous stalker type.”
“I don’t think he means it that way.” Marcus peered out at the somber figure standing by the campfire. Mathieu had managed to put the maximum amount of distance between himself and the others and still remain in the ring of tents; he stood totally alone, even among people. “I don’t think he’d hurt you.”
“Oh, he’d die before he hurt me,” Jenn confirmed. “It’s just…” She made a searching gesture before saying the only word she thought fit. “Creepy. Having someone that knows someone you used be forever ago, someone that knows a you that doesn’t exist anymore, and knows things about you that you don’t even know and have no way of ever knowing?” She shuddered. “Creepy.”
Marcus teased, “Some women would think it horribly romantic. Unrequited love through the ages and all that jazz.” He looked at her, feigning fear. “Are we in trouble? Are you going to leave me for him?”
Jenn tossed a dirty sock at his head. “Hardly. I like my men human.” She sighed and continued. “Marcus, he’s not human. Hugh was very clear on this. He looks human and he sounds human and he acts human, but he is not human. We don’t know what he is, but we know what he’s not. He’s not one of us. Don’t fall into the trap of making him something he’s not. And who knows? Maybe being around us and actually doing something might bring him around to where he’s willing to work with us on a voluntary basis after all this is done—or we might find some way to trick him into a binding. It would be a waste to lose all that power and knowledge. ”
Watching his wife change clothing with as little bare skin exposed to the cold as possible amused Marcus on some deep level, but her words disturbed him there as well. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.” She winced as she pulled socks over her blistered feet. “Oh, God. My head is killing me and walking is going to hurt worse than yesterday, isn’t it?”
“Probably. But you won’t be walking far. Just to the helicopter and then across the tarmac to the car. Then the car to the house, but that’s several hours.”
Jenn groaned. “And to the bushes to pee and to the campfire to eat…”
“All downhill.” Marcus said cheerfully. “With a nice easy slope. Scenic, too.”
“I hate you.” Jenn hid her head under the sleeping bag again.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” Marcus smiled tenderly as he unzipped the tent flap and helped his wife hobble out to face the day.
C hapter Thirteen
The helicopter arrived soon after. It was a sleek machine, Mathieu thought. Blue and white with no weapons to be seen anywhere, it was used to carry people up and down the mountain, nothing else. It was almost reassuring to see that mankind could use something that could kill so many people in a way that brought them joy and ease.
He watched Jenn hobble over to the side of the machine and Marcus help her up into the passenger compartment. Marcus then turned and held his hand out. “Don’t be afraid. It’s just transportation. Nothing else, I promise. You can trust us.” He’d shouted to be heard over the noise of the blades, but Mathieu understood him well enough.
He approached the loud machine and laid his hands on the door. Visual inspection yielded nothing untoward, just a comfortable sitting area in which Jenn had sprawled, injured feet up already. She held out a hand to him as well.
He narrowed his eyes and looked from one
“We’re not going to hurt him. He’s going to help us. He’s a great resource.” Jenn shrugged off the sleeping bag and started rooting around for her clothing. “Despite being the painfully polite and chivalrous stalker type.”
“I don’t think he means it that way.” Marcus peered out at the somber figure standing by the campfire. Mathieu had managed to put the maximum amount of distance between himself and the others and still remain in the ring of tents; he stood totally alone, even among people. “I don’t think he’d hurt you.”
“Oh, he’d die before he hurt me,” Jenn confirmed. “It’s just…” She made a searching gesture before saying the only word she thought fit. “Creepy. Having someone that knows someone you used be forever ago, someone that knows a you that doesn’t exist anymore, and knows things about you that you don’t even know and have no way of ever knowing?” She shuddered. “Creepy.”
Marcus teased, “Some women would think it horribly romantic. Unrequited love through the ages and all that jazz.” He looked at her, feigning fear. “Are we in trouble? Are you going to leave me for him?”
Jenn tossed a dirty sock at his head. “Hardly. I like my men human.” She sighed and continued. “Marcus, he’s not human. Hugh was very clear on this. He looks human and he sounds human and he acts human, but he is not human. We don’t know what he is, but we know what he’s not. He’s not one of us. Don’t fall into the trap of making him something he’s not. And who knows? Maybe being around us and actually doing something might bring him around to where he’s willing to work with us on a voluntary basis after all this is done—or we might find some way to trick him into a binding. It would be a waste to lose all that power and knowledge. ”
Watching his wife change clothing with as little bare skin exposed to the cold as possible amused Marcus on some deep level, but her words disturbed him there as well. “Maybe.”
“Definitely.” She winced as she pulled socks over her blistered feet. “Oh, God. My head is killing me and walking is going to hurt worse than yesterday, isn’t it?”
“Probably. But you won’t be walking far. Just to the helicopter and then across the tarmac to the car. Then the car to the house, but that’s several hours.”
Jenn groaned. “And to the bushes to pee and to the campfire to eat…”
“All downhill.” Marcus said cheerfully. “With a nice easy slope. Scenic, too.”
“I hate you.” Jenn hid her head under the sleeping bag again.
“I love you too, sweetheart.” Marcus smiled tenderly as he unzipped the tent flap and helped his wife hobble out to face the day.
C hapter Thirteen
The helicopter arrived soon after. It was a sleek machine, Mathieu thought. Blue and white with no weapons to be seen anywhere, it was used to carry people up and down the mountain, nothing else. It was almost reassuring to see that mankind could use something that could kill so many people in a way that brought them joy and ease.
He watched Jenn hobble over to the side of the machine and Marcus help her up into the passenger compartment. Marcus then turned and held his hand out. “Don’t be afraid. It’s just transportation. Nothing else, I promise. You can trust us.” He’d shouted to be heard over the noise of the blades, but Mathieu understood him well enough.
He approached the loud machine and laid his hands on the door. Visual inspection yielded nothing untoward, just a comfortable sitting area in which Jenn had sprawled, injured feet up already. She held out a hand to him as well.
He narrowed his eyes and looked from one
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