Awakenings

He still tried not to think about that day—the day that they all should have died, the day that Marin’s vision had come true in a way none of them had ever expected. J.T. glanced at him, brows knitting. Thom took a deep breath and tried to draw himself up a little straighter.

“You know the university that was north of here?”

“I’m aware of it,” the woman said, a wary note to her voice. “I figured that it’d be pretty damned empty around this time of year.”

“It was,” Thom admitted. “Not a ton of us there, especially on a Sunday, but there were some and we made it through the end of everything alive.” Barely alive, but still alive. His jaw tightened. “We’ve pulled through the winter and decided it was time to start looking for allies, for trading partners. That’s why we’re here. We want to trade with you.”

She sniffed. “It’s possible you mean that.”

“We do mean that,” Cameron said. Her laser-eyed gaze homed in on him.

“You can keep saying that you mean it, that doesn’t mean I’m going to be more inclined to believe it.” Her gaze drifted to Seamus, who kept his peace for the moment, and then shifted back to Thom. “How many?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said. “I made a promise.”

“To who?” she asked, an edge to her voice. Thom swallowed, his eyes fluttering shut.

“My wife,” he whispered. “I promised my wife.”

You also promised you’d come home safe. Are you going to manage that?

Thom cursed the small voice in his head and suppressed all sign of the shiver that crept down his spine. He opened his eyes. “And she’s the one person I don’t dare break a promise to ever again. Not after everything. Not after that day.”

“We haven’t come to bring you any harm,” Seamus said, his voice still a rasp, his expression bleak as Thom glanced at him—that much was clear, even with his blurry vision. What was going on with the older man? “You must believe that.”

“Must is a very strong term,” she said, her gaze cold as she stared back at him. “I’m not entirely certain that there is anything that I must do in this situation. We don’t even have to let you live. It would likely be safer if we didn’t.”

“That would be ill-advised,” Cameron said, swallowing hard. “There are people who love us that would come looking. They know where we were going.”

Thom’s throat tightened. Don’t. Don’t keep going, Cameron. That’ll put them in danger and we don’t need that.

God, we shouldn’t have come. I should have stood my ground, should have argued.

Why did I listen?

He cleared his throat. “Do you have a name?” he asked the woman. He forced his tone to be casual, kept his voice even. It was harder than he could have imagined it would be.

Damn. I’m actually afraid.

She regarded him for a long moment, crossing her arms. “Why do you want to know?”

“Well, if you’re going to kill us, I don’t see the arm in your sharing it,” he said, knowing that the comment may come off as flippant. Just keep her talking. Just…the longer she’s talking, the more chances we’ve got to convince her that we’re friends, that we’re not here to hurt them. “And if you don’t, then we’ll be even, won’t we?   You already know my name.”

She sniffed, shaking her head. “Not yet, I don’t think,” she said softly. “Where did you come from? How did you…how did you survive?”

“A miracle,” Thom whispered. “That’s how.”

“Bold words,” the woman’s voice said, her tone musing and unimpressed all at once. “We’ll see if we have to put them to the test.” She paused, and he could almost see her nodding to their captors in his mind’s eye, though he was still dazzled, blinded by whatever trick they’d used. “Bring them.”

Thom momentarily calculated the odds of all four of them escaping if one of them made a move and dismissed the idea almost immediately. Blinded with no hope of coordination, they didn’t have a chance—one of them might make it away, maybe two, but not all four of them.

Their captors frog-marched them deeper into the camp. Thom’s vision began to clear around the time he was shoved roughly into a small, half-burned building with holes in its roof large enough that he could see the sky through the blur of his tears.

“Thought you’d be friendly,” Cameron said as he was shoved down into a chair. The former soldier was looking around, now, clearly able to see but apparently content to let their captors keep the upper hand for now. It made sense. There wasn’t much reason to antagonize them much more than they already had been by sheer presence of the four men. “Thought you’d be glad to see another living, breathing, friendly face coming in peace.”

“Once burned, twice shy,” the woman said. She was a small thing with ice-blue eyes and short-cropped white blonde hair. “We gave a man shelter briefly and then things came.”

“What kind of things?” Seamus asked, his voice hoarse.

“Monsters,” the woman said. “Monsters came. Monsters wearing the skins of men. We know better now than to trust what we see with our eyes. We’ve learned our lesson and learned it well.”

Oh damn. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.

Thom swore, throwing himself from the saddle, blinking furiously as if that would help his sudden lack of sight.

Still alive. That’s something.

Hands grabbed him roughly and he reacted by instinct, elbow driving back into the face of someone at his shoulder. An unfamiliar voice cried out and Thom was free, stumbling forward as his would-be captor stumbled back.

“Freeze or your friend dies,” another voice growled.

Thom’s mind raced, but he froze. It didn’t matter which one of them had a knife his throat or a gun to his head. He couldn’t take the risk.

“We’re not here to hurt you,” Thom said carefully.

“My nose would beg to differ,” a deep voice said from behind him, muffled and pained. “I think you broke it.”

“Set him loose,” Cameron growled from somewhere to Thom’s right. “We came to talk, maybe trade, not to pick a fight.”

“Forgive us if we’re not entirely trusting of your intentions,” a woman’s voice said, silk-smooth but husky. The sound sent a strange feeling fluttering through Thom’s belly, an inexplicable shiver skittering down his spine. It wasn’t fear or desire—it was something else entirely, something he couldn’t put a name to, though he tried.

“The last bunch who showed up at our front door tried to burn us out, killed or hurt half of the people who were here.” Her voice was young, he realized, the voice of a woman of no more than thirty—somehow, instinctively, he knew that without being able to see her face.

He blinked again, eyes tearing, vision not clearing—but he could tell that it would be back soon enough, that whatever these strangers had done hadn’t rendered him sightless permanently.

Thank goodness for small favors.

He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.

“My name is Thom,” he said quietly. “And we came to be your friends. If you don’t want our friendship, though, we’re more than willing to fight. I warn you, though—when we fight? We don’t lose.”

They rode downhill in silence, their horses at a gentle trot rather than canter or a full gallop. Dread coiled in Thom’s belly as he stared at the half-finished walls and some of the burned-out shells of buildings. There had been people here, and they’d been getting by since the end of everything.

What happened to them?

He closed his eyes for a brief moment and swallowed the bile that crept up in his throat again.

It’s not supposed to be this way.

But it was.

A lonely bell clanged, as if worried by a wind off the lake. Thom shivered despite himself.

It’s a ghost town.

“I’m not seeing any of those people you said you saw, Jay,” Cameron said, shifting uneasily in his saddle. “Are you—”

“No, I’m not sure they weren’t ghosts,” J.T. growled. “And no, I’m not entirely positive I saw them—but I thought I did.”

Thom glanced sidelong at his friend, trying to keep the frown from his face. He knew J.T. had seen something, otherwise he wouldn’t have mentioned it. But if he’d seen ghosts instead of the living in the village…

I wouldn’t want to consider it, either. Thom looked at Seamus. “Do you see anything?”

“There’s something moving there,” Seamus said, his words quiet enough that the wind nearly stole them away. “Around the edge of the building there, the second one in.”

There weren’t any gates to stop them from entering the protective circle of the silent village’s walls. The wind whistled through the buildings that were left, looking worse up close than they had at a distance.

“What the hell burned this place?” Thom murmured, reining in a few feet inside the wall.

“No idea,” Cameron said, passing his reins to Thom before swinging down from his horse’s back. “Not sure if we’re going to find any answers to that question, either.”

“Something’s not right,” J.T. said. “Cam, get back on your horse. Something’s not right.”

Click.

A flash left all four men blind.

“Well, then we’d better get on with it,” Seamus said, nudging his horse into motion. He trotted past Thom and Cameron, taking the lead on the snow-strewn broken roadway. Thom frowned, watching him for a moment, then nudged his horse into motion, following him toward the crest of the hill. Behind him, J.T. sighed and followed, Cameron bringing up the rear, glancing back in the direction they’d come from. Thom reined in, waiting for Cameron to catch up, his brows arching.

“What’s wrong?”

Cameron shook his head. “Just something odd.”

“Like what?”

“Nothing I can put my finger on.” Cameron shifted in the saddle and sighed. “It’s probably nothing. Come on. We’d better catch up.”

Thom frowned, nudging his horse into motion again as Cameron did the same with his own. It’s never nothing.

Maybe this time it would be.

Seamus and J.T. had made it to the top of the hill and paused to wait for them to catch up. Seamus pointed to the west.

“Does that look like the settlement?”

Thom squinted into the distance, catching sight of half-built walls and a dozen buildings standing like an island amidst snow and Lake Michigan ice. “Hell,” he said softly. “It looks like something burned it.”

“I think I can see people,” J.T. said, brow furrowing. “Either they’re people, or they’re ghosts.”

Thom swallowed bile. “Let’s hope they’re the former, not the latter.” He couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. What the hell happened down there? An accident, or something violent? His lips thinned. “But if they’re the latter, I think it’s probably good we’ve got you and Seamus along, Jay.”

J.T. glanced at him sidelong. “Why’s that?”

“You guys talk to ghosts. We’ll have an edge on finding out what happened here—and how we can make sure it doesn’t happen to us.”

“Feels like that settlement got farther away,” Cameron said, squinting against the sun. It was their second day on the road and they hadn’t made nearly the progress Thom had hoped they might in the first day riding. The second had begun later than they’d all intended; their bedrolls far more appealing than the prospect of another day in the saddle, discovering new muscles through the aches that rose from riding across rough and broken ground in the chill of dawning spring.

“Or we don’t remember well where it was,” Thom said, rising slightly in the stirrups in an effort to stretch his legs. “It’s not like we were exactly focused on exactly where we were. We just needed to find Phelan’s sorry ass.”

“I don’t want to know, do I?” Seamus asked dryly. Of all of them, he was the only one perfectly at ease in the saddle, showing little sign of soreness—but he’d been on horseback for the better part of a few thousand years. “I’ll chalk it up to more of my cousin being ridiculous and call it a day.”

“Probably the best option,” J.T. said, shifting uncomfortably. “Usually the right one, too.” He sighed and shook his head before he glanced at Cameron and Thom. “It’s got to be around here somewhere, right?”

“Of course it is,” Thom said, settling back into his saddle with no small measure of reluctance. Damn, his whole lower body was one giant ache. “It can’t be far. Maybe the next hill.”

J.T. barely stifled a groan. Truth be known, Thom was right there with him.

It could be worse, he reminded himself. We could be walking. It could be raining. There could be a storm, or monsters chasing us, or any amount of bullshit.

It could always get worse.

There was no sense in delaying further, he realized as he held his wife, cheek against her hair.

It’s a short trip. Won’t be gone for long. Remember that.

He sighed. Marin smiled up at him.

“It’s time,” she said.

Thom nodded. “Yeah. It’s time.”

He let go of her with no small measure of reluctance, heading for his horse. Marin caught the pack horse’s lead rope and trailed behind him.

Cameron tore his gaze away from Neve, noticing as Thom hauled himself up into the saddle. “That’s it, then?”

“We’re wasting daylight,” Thom said as he took the pack horse’s lead from Marin. He caught her fingers and squeezed before releasing them. “If we leave now, we’ll make good progress before we have to find a likely place to camp.”

Cameron nodded slightly and turned to steal another kiss from Neve. Thom couldn’t hear what they said to each other, but one last kiss was sounding like a very good idea.

He leaned down as Marin stood on tip-toe, their lips meeting for an all-too-brief moment. Marin’s fingers brushed his cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered against his lips.

Throat too tight to speak, Thom straightened in his saddle and nodded.

“We’ll take good care of each other, fear fiach,” Phelan said, drawing Thom’s attention. The Taliesin stood a few yards away, hands shoved deep into the pockets of a battered leather jacket. He gave Thom a weak smile.

When did he get here? It didn’t matter, of course, though his presence was something of a comfort.

Cameron was mounting up, now. J.T. was already in the saddle, and Seamus was whispering something into Leinth’s ear, one hand on his saddle and the other entwined with hers. Thom exhaled. It had been a good gamble, that.

At least we hope so.

“I promise, Thom,” Phelan said.

“I know,” Thom murmured, smiling back. “We’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

Phelan nodded. “Yeah. You will.”

“You’d better,” Marin said, then stepped back, tugging his arm so he’d turn to face her. She was smiling when he did, though it was a familiar sad smile that made his heart give a painful squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” he said, trying and failing to suppress the urge to gather her in against his chest and not let go. “It’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist again. “That doesn’t make it easier and it’s not going to stop me from worrying. I know that you guys are going to be careful and I know you’re going to do everything you can to make sure you come home—and my gut knows that. It’s just the state you’ll be in when you get back that concerns me.”

Thom frowned, pulling back just enough that he could look her in the eye. “Did you—?”

Marin shook her head. “No. Nothing solid, nothing that I can say for sure was this time, this trip, for sure, for real…but I can never know. I never do know. That’s the worst part about our gift. You can think you’re sure, but there’s always the doubt that creeps in.”

He kissed her forehead and stroked her cheek. “We’ll be okay.”

“Right.” She squeezed him, then stepped back, glancing at the pack horse, then toward their friends, each in the middle of their own similar private good-byes. She sighed quietly and leaned against him.

“This won’t be the last time this happens,” she said softly.

“No doubt,” Thom agreed, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “But we’ll always come home, Mar. I promise.”

“Except for when we don’t,” she whispered.

Thom couldn’t suppress the shiver that worked its way down his spine. The cold certainty in her voice was unmistakable.

Someday, sometime—they wouldn’t make it home.

But not this time.

Three days later, they were finishing the final preparations for Thom, Seamus, Cameron, and J.T. to ride out on their trading run—more of a scouting run, if Thom was honest with himself about the whole thing.

Still not sure what we’ll run into out there, after all—not sure what there is to find. They had an idea of what was close—the settlement of survivors near where Holland used to be, but beyond that, they didn’t have much of anything to on at all.

Touch and go—gut feelings and signs of life. That’s all we’ll have.

He checked the bindings on the pack horse’s load again, trying to ignore the fact that he’d have to say good-bye to his wife soon, that he’d be leaving her alone here for at least a week, maybe longer. He didn’t like the idea of leaving Marin any more than Cameron liked leaving Neve, or J.T. liked leaving Carolyn, or Seamus liked leaving Leinth, but it had to be done.

There are too many things in our lives that are like that. That had better change someday.

He had little faith that it would without their forcing the issue.

A hand touched his shoulder. He didn’t have to turn to know it was her. He leaned against the pack horse’s flank and sighed as Marin slid her arms around his waist.

“I almost want to ask you to come with us,” he murmured. Marin laughed, her breath stirring the hairs on the back of his neck.

“What’s stopping you?” she asked softly.

“I don’t want to risk you like that.” He sighed and wrapped one of his hands around hers and squeezed tightly. “You’ll be careful while I’m gone?”

“Only if you make me the same promise.” Marin pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “You will, won’t you?”

“I’ll come home,” Thom promised. “I’ll always come home.”