41. Chapter Forty-One Cam #2
"I'm fine," I finally managed to growl, straightening up and forcing my features into a mask. "Let's keep moving."
But even as I said it, Kyle wasn't buying it. Hell, I wasn't buying it. The past had sunk its claws into me, and it wasn't letting go anytime soon.
I took a deep breath, letting the crisp forest air fill my lungs.
The scent of pine and damp earth grounded me, pulling me back from the edge.
I focused on the world around me. The rustle of leaves underfoot, the distant call of a hawk, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above.
My hand went to my back pocket, pulling out my butterfly knife.
Flick. Open. Flick. Closed. The rhythm of it settled my pulse, same way it always did.
"Nature's a real bitch-slap to the senses, ain't it?" I quipped, forcing a smirk. "Makes you remember you're alive, even when your head's trying to convince you otherwise."
Kyle raised an eyebrow. "That's one way to put it."
We resumed our silent trek, rifles at the ready. My mind was a fucking warzone, memories of sterile labs and blood-soaked training rooms battling with the peaceful forest around me. But I'd be damned if I let Kyle see how much it was affecting me.
I shouldn't be holding a gun. How easy would it be to just... pull the trigger? To feed the bloodlust that had been forced into me.
Flick. Open. Flick. Closed.
"You know," I said, keeping my voice low and steady, "I used to think places like this were boring as shit. All trees and quiet. Now? It's a goddamn oasis."
Kyle grunted in agreement. "Amazing how perspective changes when you've seen the worst humanity has to offer."
I couldn't help but chuckle at that. "Ain't that the fucking truth."
As we moved deeper into the woods, I forced myself to focus on tracking. The steady rhythm of our footsteps, the rifle in my hands, the constant scan for movement. It all helped push the memories back, at least for now. This was real. This was now. And right now, I had a job to do.
"You see anything?" I whispered to Kyle, my eyes narrowing as I surveyed the underbrush.
"Not yet," he murmured back. "But we're getting close. I can feel it."
I nodded, pointing to a tree. "Look at the marks. Those are fresh."
He stopped and looked at me, surprised I knew how to track.
"Yeah. I track humans for fun. Deer wasn't that hard to study online and get the basics. Never had a daddy to teach me how to hunt, but the tube is just as good." I winked.
The silence stretched between us, broken only by the soft crunch of leaves under our boots. Kyle's voice cut through the quiet.
"You know, Cam, there's something I never told Sarah about Chimera," he said, his eyes still scanning the forest. "About the fighting. They had this room... called it the Pit."
My hand stilled on the butterfly knife, mid-flick. "Yeah? What kinda fucked-up shit went down there?"
Kyle's laugh was humorless. "The kind that makes you question everything.
They'd pit us against each other. Crowds would watch.
Money was exchanged. Sometimes to the death.
It just depended on how much the organizer liked you as to whether or not it was your head on the chopping block.
We were trained for brutal efficiency. At least there weren't any kids down there, not when I was there in any case, but my time there changed me in ways the military hadn't.
After killing someone with your own hands, for no reason, something inside you just snaps. "
Memories of my own violent past bubbled to the surface. I half wondered if he was talking about the fighting ring I'd joined for a while after I got out of juvie. "Sounds like a real fucking party," I muttered, trying to keep my voice light despite the darkness creeping in.
"Oh, it was a blast," he replied, his sarcasm biting. "Nothing like watching your friends tear each other apart to really build character."
I swallowed hard, fighting back the flood of images threatening to overwhelm me.
Kids with blank eyes and bloodied fists.
The sickening crunch of bone. The metallic taste of victory as I stood above them, blood dripping off me and splashing onto the floor while they ushered in the next, bigger target.
Yeah, I knew what Kyle was talking about. From my first experience with Tommy, to the hell that was playing out behind my eyelids, I knew all about things like the Pit, even if his experience hadn't been my own.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Shit, I wish he'd never brought me out here.
I wish we'd never gone to that fucking baby lab.
Then I could just live in the fantasy that Lakey and I had just been two kids, abused by the foster system, but now I could piece together the timelines that had been black holes.
Times when we were taken from our beds in the dark of night and thrust back into those rooms, side by side.
My hand clenched painfully around the barrel and just as I was about to unleash a guttural scream, I saw a flash of movement in the distance, the graceful silhouette of a deer against the trees.
"There," I whispered, all thoughts of the past vanishing in an instant. "Two o'clock."
Kyle froze, his eyes locking onto our target. In that moment, nothing else existed but the hunt. The thrill of the chase, the simplicity of predator and prey. It was a savage kind of peace, and I embraced it wholeheartedly.
As we crept forward, a grin spread across my face. This, right here, was all that mattered. The past could go fuck itself. For now, I was alive, and I was hunting.