Chapter 10 #2
That surprised her, if only because Cade was so often cool and collected. She couldn’t imagine him panicking, drenched in sweat like she was.
“What do you dream of?” she asked without thinking, then thought better of it. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” Cade replied with another sigh.
“I was a soldier for a long time. Most of the time, when you’re on patrol, it’s just boring.
Those are the good days. On the bad days, we’d have Wastelander attacks.
Mostly they were just desperate people who were willing to try anything to get food or supplies.
And it was my job to kill them, stop them from ever reaching the compound. ”
Asha lay in silence, contemplating that. “That’s really hard.”
Cade’s shrug jostled the bed. “Yeah. So sometimes, I dream of their faces. There’s a kid I dream about often. I got reprimanded because I refused to shoot him.”
“God,” Asha whispered in horror. “They wanted you to kill a kid?”
“Yeah,” he said, as though stating the obvious. “They were Wastelanders, and they were on our territory. In their minds, they were all the same—didn’t matter how old they were. They couldn’t be allowed to live, because what if they rallied up more Wastelanders to attack us? That was their logic.”
“But it’s not like it would’ve mattered, would it?” she asked. “The Cave had more guns, more firepower, than anyone here. Easily.”
“Yeah, the Delta was the same. Occasionally, though, we’d have a casualty here or there. A buddy of mine stepped on an IED that a gang planted in the patrol zone. Probably just left as a ‘fuck you’ to us, hoarding all those resources in our fortified castle—that wasn’t uncommon.”
Cade took a breath, as though steeling himself.
“Blew both his legs off instantly. I radioed Leo, and Dom and I tried to tourniquet Gavin’s legs, but he was bleeding out too fast. By the time we got him to the hospital, he was DOA.
Sometimes, I dream about washing his blood and bits of burnt flesh off in the shower, after my shift. ”
Asha shivered. “I’m so sorry.”
Those words were always inadequate and empty in these situations. She wished she had something better to say, but it was all that came to mind.
“It’s alright,” Cade said, and she started a little when she felt his hand brush hers under the covers.
“I just wanted you to know…you’re not alone, you know?
We’ve been through different things, but I know how it feels to wonder how you’ll ever sleep again, or to wonder how you’ll ever find life worth living again. ”
His voice was soft and sincere. Asha could feel body heat radiating from him, warming the bed between them, and along with his words, it brought her some small comfort.
“I just…I don’t know how to keep going,” she heard herself say, a tremor in her voice. “How do you feel normal again?”
“Not an easy question,” Cade replied with a sigh. “Have you tried crying?”
“Crying?” Asha repeated, in disbelief. “What good would that do?”
He made a sound of amusement. “It helps sometimes, believe it or not. My mom always used to say that it was like a pressure valve. It doesn’t feel good while you’re doing it, but it keeps you from erupting down the line.”
“My mom used to say that crying was for people without real solutions,” Asha said doubtfully. “And my dad would say that it promoted a losing attitude.”
Cade scoffed. “There are things in life that have no real solutions. If it was that easy, why would you be struggling so hard? It’s because you’re hurting in a way that nobody can fully heal.”
Asha couldn’t reply; she felt as though her throat had closed up. She hadn’t expected his compassion for her, and she wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Do you cry?” she asked eventually. She couldn’t picture a soldier—especially one as fierce as Cade—weeping uncontrollably.
“Sure,” he answered easily. “Cried like a baby when I first left the Delta. When I buried my friends at Ashburn. When I had to identify my wife’s body, and know that one of my guys had killed her.”
He paused for so long that Asha began, “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t be,” Cade cut in with a sigh. “It’s maybe something I’m not supposed to admit…but then, keeping it all to myself never seemed to help, either. Just made me explode later when it all got to be too much.”
Her heart softened at the thought of Cade’s tears. The image of him being inconsolable made her ache inside. It made him feel like a kindred spirit somehow, and she was touched by his open vulnerability with her.
“If crying’s out,” Cade continued with a hint of humour, “have you tried talking?”
“Talking?” Asha chewed her lip, suddenly nervous.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice gentling. “It’s just me and the dark, darling. We’ll keep your secrets.”
She considered his offer quietly, in a kind of wonder. The abuse she’d suffered at Angel’s hands felt deeply personal somehow, something that her instincts told her to bury, to box away in her mind and never look at again. That was how she’d managed her whole life: compartmentalize and forget.
But it had become so heavy. So burdensome. So hard to carry alone.
That was how she found herself whispering some of her deepest secrets to Cade, the darkness acting as her protection. She didn’t have to read his expression, see his pity, or be deterred by his reactions. For his part, he remained completely silent as she unloaded.
She told him almost everything, from the beginning: how she grew up; the suffocating expectations of her government-official parents; their utter disappointment in her; Shelly, her high school bully-turned-girlfriend, who she’d had to break up with when she received her marriage assignment to Eric; their doomed marriage.
Broken and disjointed, she detailed Angel’s assaults on her.
He raped her repeatedly. Burned her with cigarettes and hot knives.
Punched her in the mouth, cracking her tooth.
Smacked her head against the bedpost. And at each turn, she’d fought him violently, ferociously, like a wildcat. All for naught.
Asha relayed all of this matter-of-factly, with all the enthusiasm of recalling a weekly shopping list. It was the only way to keep enough distance from it, to keep her head above water.
Only now did she sense more of a reaction from Cade.
He remained silent, but she heard his little intakes of breath, and felt the tension in his body through the mattress.
When she’d finally finished, she lay back against her pillow, exhausted.
They lay there in silence for a long time—not talking, not touching.
She’d nearly dozed off again when she suddenly felt Cade’s warm hand cover hers, holding it on the mattress between them.
He squeezed lightly, sending tingles up her arm.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmured, and in spite of what she’d said earlier, she nearly burst into tears. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard those words, and she choked on the lump in her throat.
Thankfully, Cade didn’t seem to require a reply. He kept holding her hand until she’d slipped back into sleep.