30. A Long Walk
A Long Walk
Onyx
After the rain, the clouds cleared, the sun peeked through swaying branches, and the island was left washed clean and gleaming.
This lush earthy freshness rode the air.
Emerald, green leaves glistened with droplets of water.
Small fragile flowers bloomed on the forest floor as if they’d just needed that douse of rain to come forth. Their petals were shades of pink, purple, and yellow, and their stems were thin and graceful.
I walked beside Havoc. My bra and panties clung to my damp skin, still drying from our quick wash in the stream.
Due to Havoc and his ravenous sexual appetite we had been covered in mud.
But now we were clean and ready for our mission.
We’ll find answers in the North of this island. I know we will.
Havoc walked ahead slightly. Earlier, his pants had been soaked, but now there were patches where the sun had already begun to dry them. Small wrinkles formed in the material.
He had the yellow bag slung over his shoulder.
Every now and then, he’d stop, and that sharp nose would pick up on a hidden patch of wild strawberries growing amidst the foliage. He’d kneel down, carefully picking the small, red berries and placing them in the bag.
My hand rested on my gun.
He had given it back to me, and the cold metal was a strange comfort. Even though neither one of us had said it, this gun hadn’t been just a weapon.
It was a symbol of trust.
Once we started our walk, he had given it to me without hesitation, as if handing me a piece of his heart.
He knew I could protect us both, or at least that I would try. But more than that, I knew he had given it to me because he trusted me, truly and completely.
We were in this together.
Minutes later, Havoc’s nose led us to a cluster of mushrooms peeking out from beneath the underbrush. He paused, crouching down to examine them carefully.
“These are good.” He gently plucked the mushrooms from the moist earth, their caps a deep, earthy brown, with specks of white scattered across them. Then, he handed half the pile to me. “I don’t smell any poison.”
I ate one and relished in the meaty and savory taste. After only existing on berries and coconut water, I swore I’d bit into a steak. “Delicious.”
“You like them?” He bit into one.
“I love them.” I ate another. “And can I say I am grateful to be out here with you. It’s like I have my own bloodhound.”
“Ruff. Ruff.”
I chuckled.
Nibbling on one mushroom, he added the rest of the mushrooms to the yellow bag, alongside the strawberries.
A little further along, Havoc spotted a patch of herbs—mint, oregano, and a little bit of rosemary.
“Look at that.” He picked a few sprigs and gave them to me. “So much is growing near the stream.”
“That’s why all the ancient civilizations started by water. It’s not just because of the need for drinking water or transportation, although that was part of it.”
“Water is life.”
“It is.” I let the memories of old history lessons and random books wash over me. “The Nile in Egypt, the Tigris and Euphrates in Mesopotamia, the Indus River Valley. Rivers, streams, lakes—they create these fertile lands where everything can grow. Plants, herbs, food—it all springs up where there’s water.”
“The earth knows where it’s needed most and responds by giving everything that’s needed to survive.”
I glanced at him and grinned. “That was poetic.”
“I’m in a poetic mood.”
“A poetic, yet brutal assassin. Excellent.”
“When I was hunting you last night, I saw a doe. Once we’re done with this, we can hunt and eat it.”
I frowned. “Absolutely not. That doe is my friend.”
“That doe is food, Onyx.”
“It’s my friend.” I ate more mushrooms twisted around oregano. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
“I am not a vegetarian, Onyx. I am a proud carnivore.”
“Well. . .the doe is now our pet so figure out something else to eat.”
“Maybe, there’s a bear.” He grumbled and continued forward.
“Maybe.” Smirking, I nibbled on more herbs and mushrooms.
“Lucky for you I smell more things growing all around here. Especially different vegetables and fruit much further up ahead.” Havoc popped a small mushroom into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “We’ll just have to do some foraging later.”
“Sounds good to me.”
As we walked, I couldn’t help but realize how calming the day had been.
Was it due to the sex with Havoc?
Was it because of our renewed partnership doused in new love?
Or was this mysterious, yet soothing island finally sinking into my bones?
As if hearing me, Havoc turned my way and smiled. “This place. . .it’s perfect. Don’t you think so?”
I nodded.
“I think the longer we are on here, the more we’ll find that it has everything we need, just waiting for us.”
I chuckled. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
Havoc’s smile widened. “The earth knows how to provide, how to take care of its own. When people just let it be, when they don’t mess with stuff, the earth will grow food and give everything we need. But humans. . .”
“What?”
“We fucking complicate things. We build cement walls and roads. We take over land that is perfectly free and begin dividing and placing price tags on it. We pollute. We kill. And most of these things are done out of greed, not any great sense of love or helping humankind.”
“So you don’t like human beings?”
“I detest them.” He winked at me.
I laughed, but. . .I did understand him as he talked about the island. The more we walked around, the more I felt it was abundant and overflowing with life in every corner.
Havoc discovered another patch of mushrooms and plucked them.
This time I helped
“As long as we don’t mess the island up, it’ll always grow food, always provide for us.”
“Then. . .we won’t starve?”
“Never.”
I hoped he was right as I took in all the newly blooming flowers, the tall trees, the wild strawberries and mushrooms.
For the first time in a long while, I felt a sense of security, a knowing that I would be okay.
And I wasn’t talking about just my time of being in the island, but in my life.
How long had I been so anxious each day?
Nervous about the next job or worried that I couldn’t provide for myself and my brother?
And even when I became an assassin, I stressed about each new paid kill and if I would survive.
At least on the island, I only had to walk forward, step by step. No thought to bills, taxes, laws, wars, or anything else.
Havoc’s eyes met mine. “This is where we belong, Onyx. Out here, in the wild, where life is simple and real.”
“And now you’ve gone too far.”
“I have not.”
“We are getting off this island, so stop unpacking your metaphorical bags. Zip it all up and hold on because this is just temporary.”
“And if it is not?”
“I’m not even going to think that way.”
“You should. We are Adam and Eve now.”
“We are not.”
“They had it perfect, until Eve fucked it up.”
“Oh sure. It was all the woman’s fault.” I rolled my eyes.
“I’m just saying, Onyx. Do not pick the fruit.”
I smirked. “I bet even Adam and Eve were lonely after a while.”
“They were never lonely.”
“No way. I’m sure that despite being in paradise, they might have felt the weight of being the only two humans, isolated—”
“They didn’t care.”
“Then, why did Eve tell Adam to eat the fruit? And don’t forget that he wanted to eat it.”
“The damned snake started it all, and Adam would have done anything for Eve.”
I looked off at the thick, endless path of trees in front of us. “I think Eve wanted something more than what they had, and was searching for it.”
“Maybe, but now I bet Eve regrets she grabbed that apple with every decade, every century.”
“Or maybe she is glad they broke free from paradise, even for just a taste of something new.”
“Never.” He tossed a mushroom in his mouth and ate it.
After a while, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, and cast long shadows across the forest floor.
I looked at him. “Do you smell anything?”
“Of course I do. I smell you.”
“I’m talking about other people or anything else?”
“That scent of death is much stronger, but I must admit I’m getting other stuff that is making me. . .”
“What?”
“A little hopeful.”
“What the hell are you smelling?”
“Paint. It’s sharp and slightly bitter. Very chemical. I’m sure it’s paint. And. . .” He lifted his nose in the air and sniffed. “Metal. It’s acrid like. . .lightning. Burnt and smoky but. . .not alive, so. . .that’s definitely metal. . .and stone. . .yes. . .lots of stone too.”
I widened my eyes. “Your nose is amazing.”
“It is. When I was young, I used to hate being able to smell everything. I suffered, and thought I was an alien or something. It took me a long time to figure out how to. . .separate odors that I didn’t like and ignore them.”
“Well. . .if I could fuck your nose I would.”
“We can try. Putting my nose into your pussy sounds like a great idea to me.”
“You are a dirty pervert.”
“Speaking of that, do you have to go to the bathroom?”
“That was your first and last time watching me pee so I hope you enjoyed it.”
“There will be other times, wildcat.”
I sucked my teeth. “I have a question.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you give me the gun?”
“You know why I gave it to you.”
“I want to hear you say it.”
Havoc didn’t answer right away. He reached into the yellow bag, pulling out a handful of the wild strawberries, and offered them to me.
I took one, and the sweet tartness exploded on my tongue.
Then, he spoke, “I trust you. . .more than I’ve trusted anyone in a long time.”
There was more to his words—something beautiful and yet to be spoken—but I didn’t press him.
Instead, I kept on walking, loving this moment with him.
After a while, Havoc broke the silence. “Do you have a life-changing kill?”
“Life changing?” I quirked my brows. “What do you mean?”
“A kill where. . .something unexpected happened and perhaps. . .it changed how you saw life after that.”
“Ahh.” I bobbed my head. “Yeah. I have one.”
“Tell me about it. Which was your most life-changing kill?”
I let the question linger in the air, pulling at a memory I hadn’t visited in a long time. “It was an opera singer.”
“Very interesting.”
“He had a multi-million dollar gambling debt that he could not pay up.”
“And what made that kill so life-changing?”
“I snuck into his condo in the middle of the night, which was no easy feat, he was on the seventh floor in a highly secure building—”
“Very good.”
“I try, but anyway. . .I woke him up to a gun pointed at his forehead.”
“Why not put the bullet through his skull right there?”
“Too much clean up. I had already spread out plastic in his living room. Next, I planned to have him go there, shoot him, and roll him up.”
“Smart.”
“So. . .I get him to the living room and have him standing over the plastic. He gave no fight or struggle. He knew someone was coming.”
“It’s easier when they know and have accepted their deaths.”
“It is.” I swallowed seeing the opera singer in my mind.
He had been tall and thin, with slicked back black hair and a sharp jawline. His dark eyes held a hint of fear as he stared at the gun pointed his way. Still, he held this regal posture—chest puffed out and hands dramatically placed in front of him as if holding a heavy crown.
“I had him stand right where I wanted. Then, I backed up a good eight feet and raised my gun to his head, but then. . .”
“He begged for his life?”
“No way. It was crazier than that.”
Havoc smirked. “What?”
“He asked me, if I would let him sing his favorite opera song one last time.”
“And? Did you let him?”
“I did.” A smile spread across my face. “I put the gun down, leaned against the wall, and let him sing.”
“What was the song?”
“At the time, I didn’t know. I had never heard it before. It was beautiful. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but it moved me, so much that. . .when he finished I asked him the name and he said, ‘Nessun dorma’ from Turandot.”
“I know that song. It’s famous.”
I remained in that memory. “As he sang, his body swayed with the music. You would have thought he was right on stage, his gestures were fluid and expressive. His eyes were closed, but his face. . .all contorted in emotion. . .and his voice. . .was deep and resonant, filling the room. . .filling my soul.”
I could actually hear him singing in my head as we walked and wished Havoc could hear it too. The sound was so sweet and pure, it was like tasting the most delicious and decadent dessert, every note a delectable treat for the senses that left lingering sensations on the tongue.
Havoc pulled me out of that moment. “And after that?”
“Once he finished, tears left his eyes and he said thank you. . .and then he closed his eyes.” A sad shiver ran through me. “Next, I did what I came to do, raised the gun, shot him in the head and heart. Took a picture for my client. Got rid of his body, but. . .”
“What?”
“That damn song stayed with me weeks later. It echoed in my head, haunting me in a way no other kill ever had. I ended up researching the song, the opera, everything about it. It was a rabbit hole of craziness.”
“Sometimes an assassin needs the rabbit hole to stay sane.”
“Perhaps because. . .a few months later, I found myself on a plane to Italy, to see that very opera live.”
Amusement hit his voice. “Really?”
“Really. I even wore a beautiful gown.”
“Now you have to tell me about the gown.”
“Midnight blue, floor-length, with a neckline that draped elegantly over my shoulders. The fabric was soft, almost like liquid against my skin, and it shimmered under the lights of the opera house.”
A low groan left Havoc. “Damn. I wish I’d seen you at that opera.”
“Me too.” I smiled. “I felt like I was stepping into another world, leaving everything behind.”
“And the opera?”
“It was my first one,” I admitted. “I thought it was okay, but when they reached ‘Nessun dorma’ in the final act, I got sad.”
“Why?”
“The singer. . .he was good, but he wasn’t as good as the one I’d killed and. . .for the rest of the month, I couldn't stop thinking about how I had taken true talent from the world. The kind of talent that only comes once in a lifetime.”
Havoc went quiet.
I could see the gears turning in his head, wrestling with the information I'd shared. After a few moments, he finally broke the silence. “Did you feel guilty?”
“I did.”
“You hadn’t felt guilty before?”
“I hadn’t, and. . .it made killing after that even harder, but. . .I killed anyway.”
Havoc nodded. “You pushed through the guilt to get the job done?”
“I did.”
“Not the best way to live.”
“Not at all.” I swallowed that sadness down and turned to him. “So. . .”
“Yes.”
“What was your most life-changing kill?”