Chapter 49 - Gage #2
He scoffs at me and proceeds to squirt more into his mouth.
I shake my head at his antics and dump all my stuff onto the checkout counter.
With no one around, I reach over and snag a few bags to pack everything up and take a few over to the wolf who’s now clutching all his jerky and three more bottles of ketchup.
I leave cash on the counter and hope it gets to whoever owns the place.
Before we leave the store, I grab a couple of cigarette lighters and flip on the gas pump out front.
I noticed when we drove up that there was a dusty display of red gas cans and oil bottles against the outside wall by the door.
Outside, I fill up the tank on the 4-wheeler and strap two full gas cans to the rack on the back.
There’s one of those hand-painted tourist maps on the wall on the other side of the door and I take a minute to look it over to figure out exactly where the hell we are.
There’s no scale to give me any kind of distance idea, but I’m guessing we’re two to three hours drive north west of Edmonton.
I look over at the 4-wheeler and add a few more hours to that based on its top speed.
Fuck, I need to get a car or truck somehow.
With a last look at the tourist map, I see a campground not far out of town in the direction I need to go and decide that’s where I’ll spend the night.
I turn to let Bannick know and just have to shake my head when I see him by the gas pump with a window washing squeegee in his hands.
He’s humming happily as he uses the sponge side to wash his chest and back.
I open my mouth to tell him that washer fluid probably isn’t the best thing to wash skin with and just shake my head and let it go.
Instead, I pull a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and hand them to him to dry off. We head down the road and don't see a soul all the way to the campground where I want to stop.
The fire crackles low between us in the campsite fire pit.
Sparks drift upward into the darkness before being swallowed by shadows.
The warmth does little to cut the evening chill, but I don’t mind.
It’s calming somehow, despite being consumed by thoughts of worry for Luna and the others.
I want to keep moving, but I know being on the ATV at night isn't the best idea, and I do need to rest.
Brannick stretches out beside the flames, arms behind his head, feet kicked up on a log like he owns the whole forest, a pile of empty beef jerky bags surrounding him.
He looks... relaxed. How does he do that in a strange world, far from home?
What does he think? 'Oh my, I've just travelled through the veil to an alternate Earth and found humans.
It must be Tuesday. I shall relax by the fire and have a nap.
' His golden hair glows in the firelight and even though he looks relaxed and his eyes are closed, I feel like he is alert to everything around him.
I poke the fire with a stick, watching the embers pop.
“You sulk loudly,” Brannick tells me without opening his eyes.
I grunt. “I didn’t know sulking had a volume.”
“It does, and yours is deafening.”
I chuckle despite myself, then fall quiet again. He waits, patient as stone, until he decides to push. Eventually, he cracks an eye and fixes me with a knowing look. “Something’s gnawing at you, Stoneheart. Speak it.”
I lean back on my elbows, staring up at the fractured moon. Its jagged surface looks like it could crack further any minute and split the sky in half.
“I’m worried about my girl,” I admit softly.
Brannick sits up a little, his attention sharpening. “Your mate?”
I blink. “She’s not... no, not like that. We’re not together. Just... close.”
His expression twists like I just tasted something bad. “You’re not mated with her?”
“No.”
“But you desire her?”
My jaw tightens. “Yeah.”
“She cares for you?”
“I think so.”
Brannick leans forward, frowning like this is a complicated equation he can’t balance. “So you wish to lie with her... she might wish to lie with you... and yet you have not claimed her?”
I choke on a laugh. “Claimed? Dude, this isn’t a medieval romance novel.”
“Your ways are foolish,” he mutters. “In my realm, you do not wait to be devoured by uncertainty. You see what you want, you pursue, you take.”
“That’s not how humans work.”
“Then it is a miracle your kind bred at all before going extinct.”
I grin, shaking my head. “It’s not that simple. She’s grieving. We’ve all lost people. I don’t want to push her or screw it up.”
Brannick considers this, brow furrowed. “Still sounds like cowardice.”
“Thanks, man. Real supportive.”
“If you have lost people, then you know that every second of love is precious and can be snatched from you when you least expect it. You are brave in the ways of survival,” he says, poking at the fire with another stick, “but you hesitate in the heart’s battlefield.
She is your moon? You bloom under her light? ”
That stills me. “Yeah. She is.”
“Then stop orbiting,” he says simply. “Fall.”
I stare at him for a long beat. “That was actually kind of poetic.”
“I am full of poetry. And wisdom. And salted jerky,” he adds, grabbing another bag of the jerky he has refused to stop eating since we left the store.
I laugh and toss him a warm water bottle. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
He tips his head. “And you, Stoneheart, are a fool in love. But that is curable.”
“How?”
He grins as he answers. “Have courage. And maybe a well-timed grope.”
“You are not helping.”
He shrugs and reclines again. “Perhaps not. But she is already yours. Even a blind demon hare could smell it on you.”
I snort. “Still with the jackrabbit paranoia?”
He nods gravely. “They are fast, cunning, and too quiet. Demon spawn, I tell you.”
We fall into easy silence again, firelight flickering between us, and even with all the chaos and unknowns ahead, I feel a little lighter. Because somewhere out there, Luna is alive. And now I’ve decided… no more orbiting.
Time to fall.