7. Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Hector
“I'll come back for you.”
She'd promised, holding my hand over her heart as she tucked my curls behind my ear. “Hector, be strong. I'll come back.”
“But where are you going?” I'd asked, barely ten years old, already no stranger to life's cruelty.
She adjusted the pack across her back, avoiding my gaze as she'd glanced around the shack we'd been living in since Father left. “Zone T, to join the soldiers. They need to know the truth.”
“What truth? How long will you be gone?” I remember feeling panicked, not of being alone, but of being left behind. Being forgotten.
My sister had ruffled my hair before giving me one last hug. “Don't get into trouble and stay out of the woods. Soldiers are patrolling the trails. You should have enough supplies stocked up until I return. I love you, little brother.”
And then she'd walked away.
That was ten years ago.
The food had run out after a month, the water after a few weeks.
I was alone. I was rotten. And I knew nothing but pain.
The bench creaks beneath me as I jolt awake. My heart pounds in my chest. Bright light bleeds through the porthole, casting the room in a dusty glow that has me sneezing when I sit up slowly.
It's been… years since I had that dream. Being so close to Zone T—to her, hopefully—must have set it off.
Pain flares up my calf, muscles and nerves spasming enough to make me whimper, but I bite it back before the sound leaves my lips. I’m not used to feeling so much. Shoving the blanket off, I swing my good leg over the edge and rub my sleep-crusted eyes.
The silence around me is thick. I prick my ears, listening beyond the boat's interior, but all I hear is the rush of running water outside.
The monster—Charon—isn't here. At least not in the cabin.
With a groan, I pull myself to a stand, all of my joints stiff from the ordeal yesterday.
Using the wall as leverage, I slowly hop down the hallway, pausing at his room to double-check that he's not here.
His cot is empty, covers neatly made. Almost like he didn' t sleep in it at all.
The small kitchen is also empty, but the doors leading to the deck are flung open, allowing the midday sun to spill in.
I must have slept longer than I thought.
Curiosity gets the better of me, and I use the opportunity to poke around after scrubbing the sleep from my face in the bathroom, starting with the monster’s—I mean, Charon’s room first.
It's minimal at best. I didn't get a good chance to look at it last night, but in the light of day, it seems quite plain. Not at all what I expected. No bones or blood, no corpses in the corner. Just a patched-up coat hanging on a hook and a nightstand bolted to the wall with a single drawer.
A drawer that's partially open…
I shouldn't. I should turn around and go back to my bench, or scrounge the cabinets for something to eat.
Go find the giant man and his murder bird.
Definitely shouldn't be reaching for the drawer with shaky hands, slowly pulling it open to reveal a single, water-damaged book inside.
Its spine is falling apart, the cover too faded to reveal the title, but I stare at it in awe, too afraid to touch.
Books are rare . I've never so much as seen one in my life, but I've heard stories of them from before the rains came. Before the infection, when people had copious amounts of time to immerse themselves in stories instead of fighting every day to survive. It almost sounds like a fairytale.
As far as I know, Aster’s Hollow had burned all of their books decades ago to keep the bellows operating for silver production.
Where did he get it? What's it about? Can he read? I only know the word rations because it's on the bags we all fight over. Who taught him? Where did he —
A creak in a floorboard has me slamming the drawer shut, pulse in my ears as I spin around. Charon's large frame fills the doorway, blocking out all light.
“Fuck, I…” My voice cracks. “I was just looking.”
He remains still, and the silence feels like being caught robbing a grave under his heavy gaze—no response of any kind.
That’s somehow worse than reacting.
I wave vaguely toward the nightstand, sweat forming on the back of my neck. “I didn’t take anything. I just saw the book. That’s all.”
Charon tilts his head slightly, not in anger, but more… curious. His expression doesn't seem as harsh as it looked last night in the dark. There's a tilt to his lips that's almost a smile. It eases me slightly.
“Where’d you get it?” I ask, nodding toward the drawer. “The book, I mean. I've never seen one before.”
He blinks before stepping into the room, softly walking toward me.
I hop out of the way when he draws closer, watching him reach into the drawer to pull it out.
The way he handles it is gentle, turning it over in his hands with a tenderness that makes my heart lurch, and then opens the first few pages before holding it out to me.
I take it slowly, carefully, because it looks like it might fall apart in my hands. The pages are warped, ink smudged in places. He points to something written in the corner, but I just stare at the words, at how many there are. So many symbols on the page.
It’s overwhelming.
“I can’t read this shit,” I mutter, shaking my head as I hand it back to him .
Charon's shoulders slump, something sad flashing in his eyes as he takes it from me and sets it back in the drawer. He almost looks devastated.
Fuck, I wish I could read, if only to wipe that look off his face. It’s… I don't like it.
A beat of silence passes between us before he straightens, motioning me to follow. I take a moment to collect myself before I move, casting one last glance at the drawer when I go.
He's waiting for me at the top of the stairs, patiently silent while I crawl on my hands and knees up to the deck. When I finally get up there, raising my eyes to the bright sunlight hitting my irises, I gasp at the view surrounding us.
It’s like stepping into a dream.
To our left, a waterfall spills from jagged rocks above, frothing as it crashes into the river below.
Mist hangs in the air, splitting the light into shards of color.
The boat sits along the riverbank under a cropping of trees, their leaves a soft green that glows in the sun.
Clusters of red berries hang from their branches, a burst of blood against vibrant emeralds.
The water from the falls is nearly transparent, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no rot.
No decay. No stench of death or iron in the air.
My eyes start to sting as I take it all in, afraid that if I blink, the scene will disappear.
It’s unlike anything I've ever seen before.
When I turn to Charon, he's already watching me with a soft expression.
“What is this place?”
He simply nods his head toward one of the low-hanging branches above us before pointing to a bucket on the deck, half-filled with berries.
My heart drops right through the floor. When he stretches up, plucking one free before popping it into his mouth like it's no big fucking deal, all the blood drains from my body.
“ No !” I grab his jaw in one hand while my other attempts to invade his mouth. “Spit it out, spit it out!”
He flinches and stumbles back a step as my fingers jab at his face, desperate to dislodge the berry he just casually ate.
“Do you want to die?!” I shout, fingers still prying. He lets out a muffled grunt. “Charon, spit it out, you absolute lunatic—”
He grabs my wrists firmly, holding me in place as he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to show me that the berry is gone. Swallowed . I’m too late.
I jerk free from his grip, backing away as though I’ve been poisoned. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We don’t eat things, hasn't anyone ever told you that?!”
My arms start to tremble, a cold sweat breaking out along my spine, because all I can see in my mind is him convulsing on the deck, frothing at the mouth, leaving me behind when he dies, and—
Thunk .
Something small and wet hits the deck beside us, drawing my attention momentarily from my racing thoughts. I glance down to find another berry at my feet. Then another.
Thunk. Thunk.
Nyx sits on the railing just above, her head cocked sharply to the side. She flutters her wings once. “ Pass. Good to go.”
I freeze, gaping up at her before slowly turning toward Charon. He raises an eyebrow at me, lips tilted in amusement. Nyx casually hops down to the deck and pecks at one of the berries, her beak stained red .
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growl, dragging a hand down my face. “How is this even possible?”
The plant life is contaminated, the animals are contaminated. Everything is contaminated! At least, that's what the Judge has told us. Otherwise, rations wouldn't be such a commodity.
Charon just shrugs, plucking another berry off the branch before holding it out toward me in his palm.
I hesitate, hard. But he doesn’t move, just stands there quietly, his eyes locked on mine like he's asking me to trust him.
And, fuck, I think I do. Tentatively— very tentatively—I take it from him and sniff it. Hold it like it'll kill me, because until this exact moment, I believed it would.
“ Pass ,” Nyx squawks again, hopping a few inches closer. “ Good to go .”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you.”
Fuck it. I toss the berry into my mouth, moaning in surprise when a burst of flavor explodes on my tongue. It's sweet and tart. Alive . My stomach clenches with hunger so sharp it almost drops me to my knees.
Charon's watching me again, not smiling—he never really smiles—but there’s something heated in his gaze as I reach down and grab two more from the bucket, popping them both into my mouth with another moan.
Nyx croaks approvingly and flutters to the railing again like she’s pleased with herself.
I swallow down the fruity goodness, licking juice from my thumb. “Alright, fine. These aren't dangerous, but I don't understand how. I thought the rain infected everything. ”
Charon drops his gaze to my mouth before turning away, shrugging again as he continues to pick berries.
He must have already been at it for a while, because there's not much more within reach.
Once he's gotten all he can, he wipes his hands on his pants and frowns down at the bucket. It's still not full.
An idea pops into my head.
“I can help,” I say before I can stop myself, feeling a little silly when he gives me a blank look. “The ones that are higher up. I can grab them, just… put me on your shoulders.”
He rears back, eyes widening like I just said something ridiculous.
“I'm serious. We could probably fill the bucket if I got the rest. Let me help.”
God knows why I want to help, but I do.
Charon looks from me to the branches, then back again. His lips press into a thin line and for a second, I think he’s going to flat-out refuse. But then he sighs through his nose and shakes his head, crouching down in front of me.
I blink at him in shock for a moment. “Wait, really?”
He doesn’t answer, just reaches out, grabs my wrist, and hauls me onto his shoulders like I weigh nothing.
“Shit!” I let out a startled yelp, grabbing onto his head for balance. “Okay, fuck, how about a warning next time?”
He stands slowly, keeping me balanced with an iron grip around my legs.
From up here, the world looks… different. Calmer. I reach up and start plucking berries, dropping them into the bucket below as Nyx circles lazily overhead, cawing every so often .
“You’re surprisingly stable,” I murmur after a while, trying not to knee him in the face accidentally. “Like a really quiet horse. Or a donkey.”
He makes a noise in his throat that might be disapproval. Or laughter. Either way, I chuckle softly, feeling freer with this stranger than I probably should. His fingers tighten on my thighs, and the silence that follows is almost… comfortable. Peaceful.
I let my hand rest lightly on the top of his head, just for a moment, before continuing to drop berries into the bucket. For once, I even ignore the instinct in my gut telling me to watch out for danger.
Maybe, with the Ferryman looking after me…I don’t have to.