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Allie's War Episodes 1-4(84)

By:Jc Andrijeski

He aimed a quizzical look in my direction until I motioned for him to pass over the vodka, which he’d done reluctantly. Taking the bottle back as I started to open it with my fingers, he poured me a glass, watched me down it in a single shot. He poured me one more, and while I drank it, the bottle promptly disappeared. I didn’t see where, although I watched him, fighting a head rush from the alcohol, so tired I literally couldn’t make myself stand, though I’d barely moved all day and badly needed the toilet.
Taking my arm, he’d pulled me to my feet.
Opening a series of drawers, he grabbed the tank top, underwear and sweats I wore now before steering me into the bathroom and laying the clothes on the sink.
Seeing him about to speak, possibly to say something more meaningful than I could handle right then, I pointed at the clothes.
“Are those mine?” I actually recognized the shirt.
He nodded. “Ullysa took care of it.”
I felt a strange surge. “Oh.”
He felt where my head was going. “Before, Allie. While your family was still being questioned by SCARB and the Feds.” He hesitated. “Do you need help? You should take a shower.”
After a pause that stretched longer than it should have, I shook my head.
Studying my eyes a few seconds longer, Revik let go of my arm and backed out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Fingering the clothes still on my body, I realized those were mine too. I wondered how long I’d worn them, and replayed Revik’s comment about a shower. That was probably his way of telling me I stank.
I felt broken; I couldn’t believe how broken I was.
My mind tried to wrap around what that meant, to snap out of it, while I showered. The room had filled with steam by the time I finally came out, but it felt like no time had passed at all.
It had, though. He already lay on the bed, his pale legs sprawled on the coverlet beneath gray sweat shorts. His legs were muscular, I noticed, with a fine coating of dark hair. He caught me staring.
“It’ll be cold,” I said. “With the door open.”
He gestured me over, not speaking. I followed the motion of his hands in something like resignation. Other than guilt, I didn’t know what motivated him, but I couldn’t make myself care enough to ask him to stop. I let him hold me, thinking I’d never sleep after sleeping all day, then...nothing else.
He’d been talking to me, even then. I don’t remember anything he said.
Outside, black sky beckoned.
Pulling his fingers off me gently, I slid out from under his arm, shivering at another curl of wind that gusted through the cracked door to the balcony. I angled my legs off the bed, touching my feet to the carpeted floor, trying not to move the mattress as I regained my feet.
Sliding through the gap in the glass door, I walked across our room’s small balcony. My toes curled when they met the icy deck. Gripping the railing, I looked out over white and dark churning ocean before letting my gaze travel up.
Stars met the horizon in a cluster of pinpricks, creating a curved black bowl.
I blinked, tracing the swath of the Milky Way as I listened to faint music from other decks. A whisper from the Barrier showed me bars, casinos, hot tubs, restaurants, a dance club. I saw maps inside the construct I swam through, what might have been tracers of the various guards moving through the ship, some of them on duty, some off.
I didn’t care about any of it.
My gaze drifted a few balconies over, to where a lithe form stood alone by a painted rail. I glimpsed the telltale cheekbones of Chandre framed by thin, black braids. She stood unnaturally still. It wasn’t the stillness of a living being, but that of a boulder, or a parked car.
Then warm fingers touched my bare shoulder and I nearly shrieked.
Feeling him, I turned, relaxing even more when I saw his face.
I watched his gaze follow mine to the adjacent balcony. He stared at the other seer, and I wondered briefly if they were talking...then I remembered Kat and wondered something else.
His pale eyes shifted back to mine.
His fingers ran lightly down my arm, then wound around my hand.
“What are you doing?” he said, quiet.
I shivered, staring down at our joined hands.
Thinking about his question, I pointed up. His gaze followed mine and I saw his expression grow less hard as he took in the wash of stars. He continued to stand there, not moving. When the wind rose, I felt him shift the angle of his body so that it shielded more of mine.
Something in the warmth of having him near brought the emotions back without warning. I felt that kicking at my heart begin again, the feeling I’d woken to, mixed with a silent photograph of a decomposing eye staring through matted, dark hair I used to like to tug on with my fingers when I was a kid.#p#分页标题#e#