Pulled out of the dream, I bolted upright and flinched away from Luke’s touch. Wide-eyed and panting, I reached for my shoulder where the echo of the bite still throbbed. My gaze darted around the room as the dream continued to haunt me.
Luke held up his hands, looking worried. “It’s okay. It’s me, Luke.”
I swallowed hard and wiped the sweat from my face. “I know it’s you,” I mumbled as he sat beside me. “Where were you?” His promise never to leave me only lasted, what? Two days?
He set something on top of the blanket between us. The long wicked blade of a hunting knife caught the light. It had a sturdy handle for a sure grip. It made me nervous. Why was there a knife on the bed?
“It’s yours,” he said. His gaze trapped mine. For once, he looked unsure. He rubbed a hand on the side of his neck in agitation. “I thought it might help you feel safer. I’ll show you how to use it.” When I didn’t say anything he added, “I want you to feel safe. I want to see the fear fade.”
I struggled with my emotions, angry that he’d left me. I was vulnerable not just to my dreams but to anyone looking for me. It annoyed me that he still didn’t get it.
“It’s not just fear. Imagine discovering you’re not who you thought you were, that you belong to a dangerous hidden world. Imagine closing your eyes and seeing yourself and your loved ones die again and again. The fear in your eyes would be eclipsed by your desperation to stop it all.” Tearing my gaze from his, I looked at the gleaming steel. “They are coming. They always do.” I reached out and touched the knife before standing.
He watched me with sad eyes.
“Thank you for the knife. I already know how to use it,” I didn’t add that the knowledge wasn’t from this life.
A memory tickled my mind but refused to come forward. I had the vague impression of standing in the middle of a large battle, bathed in blood not my own, as I tried to defend those who tried to defend me. The moves, agile and sure, filled my mind without the details of who I fought or why. I had no doubt I’d eventually recall all the details, but the vague impression was enough to make me hope that day wouldn’t come any time soon.
“The knife might help,” I said as I walked to the bathroom forcing my hand from my shoulder. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was just after nine.
In the shower, I let myself cry. I was beyond done with the dreams and feeling so desperate and crazy all the time. Why was I fighting so hard to hold onto a life I hated so much? The answer helped firm my determination. I didn’t want to be born again into the same crappy cycle facing the same hopeless situation. With this life, I needed to make a difference. I rinsed away my self-pity and finished washing.
When I stepped back into the main room, Luke waited with my bag at his feet. The knife was still on the bed but now with a holster. His eyes roved my face as I strode to the bed and picked up the knife. I didn’t want to see his concern. Instead, I studied his gift to me. I could strap the knife to my bag so it would be easily accessible, but no one would know I had a weapon because I needed to face crazed man-dogs. Well, people didn’t know yet anyway. So having it on the outside of the bag would make me look like the troublemaker or worse. Moving closer to Luke, I bent and tucked the knife into the bag. Right along the side so I could find it quickly if needed. Convenient, yet out of sight.
“You all right?”
“Honestly?” I wondered if he really wanted to know. Sometimes people asked, but didn’t care. Meeting my eyes, he nodded. “The answer hasn’t changed. No, I’m not all right. But the knife gives me—” I took a slow deep breath as I struggled with how to explain what it meant. “A tiny bit of power over my fate.” What Luke didn’t realize was that if I couldn’t use it against my attacker...well, at least I might escape rape and torture this time around.
A glimmer of helplessness shone in his eyes before he looked away. “Are you ready to leave?”
“I think I’ve slept enough, if that’s what you’re asking.” Shouldering the bag, I followed him out the door.
We stopped at a gas station after several hours to pick up maps so we could plan our route. I wanted to groan when he gave me a general idea of the Compound’s location. West wasn’t exactly right. Try North. Why Canada? I thought with a shiver. I decided then to start wearing layers of clothing.
Studying the map, I saw the problem right away. We had plenty of options until we neared the Compound. Our routes narrowed down to three. I had no illusions. They would be waiting for us.
The dreams called to me while we rode that day, but I successfully avoided succumbing to them as we wove an erratic pattern northwest.