Long Road Home: Pt. 3
Oct. 29th, 2009 12:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
acquiescencePart 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
Their packs were filled with food and water, and Jeff had a box of shells tucked into his bag as well. He’d managed to get himself a shower and a shave as well, and feeling mostly human for the first time in months Jeff pulled up the heavy pack and swung it over his shoulder, grunting under the weight of it. He didn’t stop to bid farewell to any one in that Godforsaken town, didn’t even turn to see if Misha had gotten his pack alright or was following him before he started out of town continuing on his never-ending journey.
He still couldn’t believe what had happened back there, the sorts of things people were reduced to at a time like this. People should be banding together and taking care of each other, not taking advantage of people the way Michael and those around him most obviously were - Jeff decided he was lucky to have gotten out of there at all, let alone with enough food and water to last him more than a week, if he rationed it correctly. Of course he’d also gotten a companion out of the deal.
He could hear the slow scuffle of shoes on the pavement behind him; Misha was obviously following him - not that he blamed him. He would have wanted to get out of that place too if he’d been forced to do the sorts of things Misha had been. He felt pity for the man, but that didn’t mean he wanted him tagging along. He was doing this alone; the only person who would have been welcome on this trip was Mary, and she most certainly wasn’t going to be joining them anytime soon. Jeff would have just as soon been by himself.
Since he’d managed to get both food and water into his body as well as a few hours of sleep, Jeff felt revitalized and ready to go for the rest of the day, and so he’d picked up his usual quick pace as soon as they’d put the town behind them. He didn’t bother talking to Misha, wasn’t even sure what he would have said if he’d decided he did want to have a conversation. The words he’d exchanged with Michael had been the most he’d talked to anyone in months. When he was on his own there was no need, and when he did have to stop for supplies he kept things simple and to the point. He wasn’t going to go making small talk now just so this other man would feel more comfortable around him.
When he’d met Mary he’d been the same way; gruff, a man of few words. It was just his way. He did his work and at the end of the day all he wanted was a nice cold beer and possibly a warm body to share his bed. But that didn’t usually include a conversation.
That was until he’d met Mary.
She turned him into a fool.
He smiled and laughed more easily with her than he ever had in his entire life; they talked together into the wee small hours of the morning, and her company was enough for him at the end of the day. Being next to her was like being home; he’d known that from the first day he’d met her. Zach and Ever had brought her over one night, decided to do a little matchmaking, and though Jeff had never admitted it to either of them, they’d done a fucking fantastic job - he would have never heard the end of it if he’d admitted that to them, though. He couldn’t have picked anyone better than Mary in all his life.
And slowly but surely she’d brought him out of himself, taught him how to feel comfortable in his own skin, and loved him more than he rightly deserved.
It had taken someone like Mary to draw him out before, and he highly doubted this man could do the same thing.
And so they walked.
In silence, the miles stretched out ahead of them.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Jeff could feel the weight of the last few days bearing down on him, though it didn’t slow him down too much; he kept his pace up. In fact, he would have gone that same unforgiving pace the rest of the day if he hadn’t stopped to take a slow drink of water only to see Misha over 100 yards behind him doing his best to keep up.
Jeff swore and moved off the hot asphalt into the shade of a tree just off the road. He didn’t want to stop; he wanted to put as many miles between them and that town as possible, and if they stopped now in the middle of the day it would be like they hadn’t even tried.
“Come on, I’m not going to wait for your all day,” he yelled so Misha could hear him, glaring against the sun and in anger. He hated this situation. Hated that Michael had backed him into a corner, he couldn’t have said no. Who knew what they would have done to him if he’d ended up staying there, what he would have become? Jeff hated that he couldn’t save more of them, he hadn’t been able to even look at Alec as they were leaving town, couldn’t look at that smug grin on Michael’s face either not if he didn’t want to get shot.
And now he was stuck, stuck with this man who shouldn’t be his responsibility.
“Pick up the pace, or I’m going to leave you,” he yelled again.
It should have been an easy thing to do - to just turn around and keep walking. To not pay attention as Misha fell further and further behind. The other man wasn’t out of shape, or else he wouldn’t have been able to keep up as well as he had been up to this point, but Jeff had been doing this for months; he could keep up this same pace for hours, and it was apparent Misha couldn’t. He should just keep going, let Misha take care of himself. He wasn’t here to save the world - it was far too late for that. As it was they were all lucky to be alive in the first place.
And yet he couldn’t. He couldn’t turn back to the road and keep going. Couldn’t leave the other man there as much as he might have liked to. And so he waited in the shade until Misha had caught up to him. He sighed and jerked his head toward the tree.
“Take that off and sit down for a minute,” he ordered roughly, before he winced at the comparison his mind made as he saw Misha lower his head as he dropped his pack and skulked towards the tree to sit down like he’d told him. It was the same way Misha had moved when Michael had been ordering him around and fuck if he wanted to start comparing himself to that psychopath.
He rolled his eyes and dropped his own pack, taking a bottle of water with him before he went to lean against the tree as well. He cracked open the bottle and drank slowly, finishing off half the bottle in one go before he offered the rest to Misha.
The other man hesitated before taking the bottle and drinking it down quickly.
“If you’re thirsty you can drink, you know,” Jeff pointed out, half in amusement and half in disgust that it appeared that Misha felt he had to ask to drink the water he was carrying. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose; why couldn’t he have just died? It would have been so much easier.
“Look, I don’t know what Michael was doing to you…” Which was an outright lie; Jeff knew exactly what Michael had been doing to Misha – and they both knew it. “But I’m not him; you’re an adult, I’m an adult, you do what you want,” he told him. “If you want to stop and have a drink, do it, if you want to go your own way, do it, if you want to tell me to go fuck off, do it.”
Jeff watched Misha; for a moment he didn’t say anything, just sat there leaning against the tree staring down into the grass.
“I was just looking for some shoes,” Misha started, surprising Jeff. “I’d been walking for weeks and my shoes had worn through. I just needed a new pair and then I would have been on my way.” Jeff sucked in a breath when he realized what Misha was telling him. “I didn’t have anything to trade, but who does? I lost everything that night.” It seemed no one needed a reference for that night; it was something that would forever be etched in their collective conscience, that night, and anyone would know what they meant. “All I had were the clothes on my back.”“There weren’t as many of them there when I arrived as there are now.” He was picking at the grass, pulling at the blades between his fingers, ripping them from the ground occasionally as he spoke. “I told them I couldn’t do anything I’d leave if I could just get some shoes, but Michael said they couldn’t just give them to me – I had to earn them, since I didn’t have anything to trade.”
Jeff felt his stomach roll again when he remembered what Michael had told him; how they’d tried Misha out in other jobs before they’d ended up at the last, and he felt sick all over again.
“Couldn’t you have just left?” Jeff asked, interrupting, he knew, but it seemed like that would have been the obvious thing to do.
“Those guns aren’t just for show; they have a few guys on guard all the time.” Misha shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t have made it out. I was a yoga teacher, not a ninja, though that would have come in pretty handy – I’ll have to remember that for next time.” For the first time since he’d met him Jeff saw the corners of his mouth lift slightly; it wasn’t quite a smile but it wasn’t the same beaten-down look he’d been wearing either.
They sat quietly for a while longer, just listening to the sounds of nature around them. Jeff often wondered how nature had seemed to survive. So many animals and plants and things seemed completely unharmed by the events of that night, like nothing had happened at all – it was almost wrong that they continued on the way they always had without even a care that so much had been lost.
Eventually Jeff pulled himself up again brushing the grass off his pants – though really it was an exercise in futility; his clothes would never be clean so what was a few more bits of grass?
“Come on.” He offered a hand to Misha, who looked up at it like he wasn’t exactly sure what to make of the gesture. Instead of taking his hand Misha stood up from the ground in one easy motion – Jeff rolled his eyes – a lot of good something like that did you now – but he kept his mouth shut. Picking up his bag, Jeff slung it over his shoulders again. “I want to put as much distance between us as them as possible before we bed down for the night,” Jeff told him as he started heading out to the road again.
They didn’t really talk much after that. Just kept walking – though Jeff slowed his pace just slightly so Misha could keep up without pushing himself too hard.
And that’s how their first day together went. Walking in near silence until the sun dipped below the tree line forcing them off the road and in search of a place to sleep for the night.
They seemed to settle into a sort of rhythm after that first day. It was a sort of tentative thing; Jeff still didn’t know how to talk to this other man, and so he didn’t say much during the day as they walked - slower than he would have liked as well. They stopped occasionally, for lunch and water and then again at night, and during those times Misha talked. Sometimes he told long stories about his old life, about people he’d known, about Michael and his clan, about the things he’d witnessed that night, other times he kept things short.
He’d tried asking Jeff about his life, about where he’d come from any family and friends he’d had before - but Jeff was tight lipped on all those subjects. Misha had learned quickly that it was best to keep conversation centered on himself. Jeff seemed easier that way; he asked questions at times, even laughed once or twice, which surprised even himself.
And so that was how their days went. They were up with the sun and walked until the sun made its way down behind the trees again. Not exactly an exciting life, Jeff knew, but he felt pretty certain that it was better than any sort of life Misha could have been having if he wasn’t there.
That afternoon they stopped under the shade of a large tree just off the road. They both leaned back against the trunk and let their eyes drift closed as they relaxed.
“I used to have this dog,” Misha started, taking the opportunity to tell Jeff more about himself while they rested.“She was this really ugly mutt.” If Jeff’s eyes had been open he could have seen the small smile of amusement that played across Misha’s face at the memory. “I went to the pound one afternoon; I don’t even remember why anymore, I guess I just wanted to see some animals. And she was there in this cage in the back; everyone was just passing her by, but she sat there happy as could be waiting for someone to come up to her.”
“I was in.” He grinned. “I got to leave with her that afternoon.”“Of course I had no idea what to do with a dog once I got her home.” Jeff smiled, or as close to a smile as he gave these days, content to just listen to Misha talk, to listen to the sound of his voice. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having someone else around. He could talk for days about how he didn’t need anyone else tagging along with him - didn’t need anyone to slow him down or another mouth to feed, and yet now that Misha was here, Jeff couldn’t seem to resent his presence. Not when he lay there at night and just let himself listen to the slow steady breathing beside him, not when he woke in the morning to the feeling of Misha warm beside him. If he kept his eyes closed it was almost like Mary was there, and he had to stop himself more than once from reaching out to touch him before he’d remembered that it was not his wife beside him.
“Had a dog before,” Jeff started, surprising himself and Misha as he spoke. “She was beautiful.” His smile turned more real as he thought about his girl.
“I had her years ago, when I was just a teenager.” He spoke quietly. “I was walking down the street one day, and I came across this kid with a box of puppies. Stopped to look at them and there was one in the corner getting pushed out of the way by the other puppies.” He smiled again, remembering his girl. “I knew she was the one for me right then. Took her home that afternoon, I had to bottle-feed her for weeks.” He chuckled lightly. “But I loved her. Had her for years, too.” Bisou had been his girl for years before he’d met Mary. And Bisou had loved Mary as much as Mary loved her - that was how Jeff had known Mary was the girl for him; any girl who loved his baby had high marks in his book, and it was the girl that his baby loved that was the one for him.
Misha tilted his head and smiled, listening to Jeff recount another of his memories - he shared so few that Misha always paid attention when Jeff spoke up.
“Thought about trying to find a dog or something after ...” He trailed off, no need to go into that night again they both knew. “But I could never stop, didn’t want to risk it.” He shrugged. “Though it would have helped with some of the nights.” He shrugged again, starting to feel stupid that he was still talking, he had only meant to mention the fact that he’d had a dog as well - not start giving Misha a rundown of his mental health over the last few months - and yet he kept on. “Would have helped, I think, to have someone to talk to. It gets lonely out here.”
He sighed, didn’t say the obvious, that he wasn’t alone anymore, that he had someone to talk to - though he didn’t really make use of it. Instead, Jeff opened his bottle of water again and took a slow drink before he stood, effectively ending the conversation. “We should get a move on; want to get in a few more miles before the sun goes down.”
Misha nodded and got to his feet easily; Jeff envied him that. He didn’t know if it was because he was older or that Misha had his yoga training but he never grunted the way Jeff did when he stood up or sat back down again. He made every movement seem so easy. Jeff rolled his eyes at himself mentally before he turned back to the road and started out again. They could get in another 10 miles or so before the day was up if they kept a steady pace.
Jeff started to lose track of the days he’d spent with Misha, that day in town fading after each day of monotony, until it was almost like Misha had been with him for months.Jeff was fairly sure it hadn’t been that long, but he just couldn’t remember the exact number.
In the time they’d been together he’d learned a lot about Misha; where he’d grown up, how he’d gone to school to get his degree in social theory, how he’d worked as a carpenter to help put himself through school – as a man in the construction business Jeff could really appreciate someone who worked hard for the things they wanted out of life, and he was even more impressed when Misha told him he’d built his own house, something that had always been a dream of Jeff’s, but he’d always been too busy to get that far.
“When I finished with school my folks bought me a plane ticket to anywhere I wanted.” Misha was relating another story of his life that afternoon while they took a break to eat and rest some, laying in a field of long grass and shielding their eyes from the sun. “I ended up going to Nepal.”
Jeff found himself arching an eyebrow under the arm he had thrown over his face to keep the sun out of his eyes. “Nepal?”
“Yeah, I don’t know, I was a kid,” Misha shrugged. “I thought it would be cool. I ended up going to this monastery the second day I was there, and it was just...” Jeff lifted his arm enough to see Misha waving his hands in the air as he tried to search for the right words. “I ended up staying for a few months, studying there at the monastery.”
“You really are a piece of work, you know that?” Jeff said, shaking his head at the younger man.
“I just have a varied array of interests.”
“Sure you do.”
“Anyway, that’s how I ended up getting involved in yoga. When I got back I kept studying meditation and it just seemed to really fit for me. My parents were a little disappointed, I think, but I loved it.” Jeff saw the smile curling easy across Misha’s lips; he liked the sight, he decided. It was good to see a real smile.
“I never understood how any of that could be comfortable, or relaxing, or whatever the fuck yoga is supposed to be.”
Misha laughed, small and quiet but it was there. “If you do it right it’s really easy to relax.”
“Folding yourself in half is relaxing?” Jeff asked doubtfully.
“It can be.”
“I’ll just take your word on that.”
“I’ll teach you sometime,” he offered. “If you want.”
“We’ll see, kid.”
Jeff lay his arm across his face again, blocking out the bright sun over head as they lay in the grass. His body approved of these breaks, liked stretching out, warm and languid under the sun for an hour or so each afternoon. It had taken some getting used to, this stopping - after months of going going going, to stop, rest, breathe .... it was much needed.
They lay beside one another, listening to the sounds around them, bugs hiding in the tall grass, a bird sweeping over head just a quick shadow before it was gone, the sound of the wind blowing cool against their faces rustling the grass with its movement.
It was almost as if things were normal, like they weren’t on this insane trek across the country, they hadn’t both lost everything that was important and loved in their lives, like they hadn’t both been on the move for so long that it was easy to forget what it was like living in one place. Like all they’d ever known was the road, the sound of feet slapping against asphalt over and over again for the entire day, stopping at night sore and exhausted.
Here, though, lying in the grass, it was like none of that had happened, like they could be lying in any field of grass enjoying the warm weather.
Even the feeling of a warm body beside him was enough to make him forget, enough to make the coils around his heart unwind just a bit, enough to still the racing thoughts of his mind the way only the presence of Mary had before.
Laying here with Misha felt like rest, like peace.
He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to open his eyes and remember where they really were, didn’t want to go back to the road. He just wanted to stay there and forget about everything else. It would have been nice, easy even.
And when Misha reached out, slow and tentative, like he expected to be hit, to brush his fingers against the back of Jeff’s hand - it was like an electric shock and the most soothing caress he’d ever experienced. He tried to remember the last time he’d been touched, really touched.
Months.
Months and Months.
Jeff didn’t move, didn’t pull away from Misha’s slow easy touch; instead, he sucked in a slow breath and waited.
When Jeff didn’t pull away Misha grew more confident, it seemed, reaching out with sure motions, twisting their hands until they were palm to palm. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, not when he was being touched like this, touched at all. And Jeff lay there, arm over his face still; he couldn’t move it for fear that this would all be a dream. He kept his eyes closed so all there was was touch.
The soft crush of grass beside him, the slow steady breathing, warm breath against his hand, soft wet lips pressing against the back of his hand.
He’d missed this, missed the way skin felt against his own, the way lips felt against his skin. Against his lips.
A low strangled groan slipped from him when those warm sweet lips moved to his, pressing down with practiced ease. And Jeff let it happen – it had been so long, so long since he’d been close to anyone, what would it hurt to kiss this man?
And the hand over his face moved away, and Jeff opened his eyes to stare into those bright blue eyes just inches from his own. With both hands pressed against the side of his face, Jeff pulled Misha closer and kissed him, hard and hungry, rolling them over so Misha was pressed onto his back in the warm grass now Jeff looming over him.
What did it hurt?
Why shouldn’t he do this now? Take a little comfort in the warm body that slept beside him each night. The soft mewls of want were enough confirmation that Misha wanted this, that he wanted Jeff.
Why shouldn’t he take?
He thrust his tongue forward as he kissed the other man, sweeping into his mouth, sliding over teeth and fighting with his tongue as they kissed. It was hard, and filled with a desperate need Jeff had never felt before. And in the back of his mind he couldn’t help the comparison that was forming.
Kissing Mary had never been like this; her lips were always soft and acquiescing beneath his, she didn’t squirm and buck beneath him the way Misha did. He could see her, stretched out beneath him, eyes filled with love and desire as she opened herself to him.
And when he opened his eyes now all he saw was that dark of desire, nothing of the woman he loved. And suddenly Jeff was pulling back, pushing Misha away as he scrambled to put space between them.
“Fuck,” he swore quietly, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Fuck.”
He didn’t look at Misha, couldn’t let himself or he just might do something he would regret.
“I’m not Michael, fuck, I thought you knew that.” Jeff’s tone was hard and biting as he spoke. “I don’t want you do that, I don’t need you to do that. I’m not some creep like him.”
“I know you’re not.”
“Then why?”
“I just ... I thought...” he trailed off without finishing his thought. And Jeff didn’t prompt him, there were too many thoughts swirling through his mind now. He’d been ready to take this man here and now, without a thought for his wife. It was bad enough that Misha was trying to offer his body to him; it was even worse that he would even think about taking that.
He let out a shaky breath and pulled himself up with a grunt, ignoring the protests of his body, the desire that still coursed through his veins as he pulled his pack on again.
“We should get moving. I saw a sign a while back, there should be a town up here.” He didn’t look back at Misha or wait for him to get up, and put on his own pack before he started toward the road. He just needed to talk, needed to forget about the strange peace he’d felt that afternoon.
They didn’t make the town before nightfall, but Jeff felt pretty confident they’d make it before the next day. They needed some supplies and he needed a chance to get away from Misha for a time, and exploring what he hoped was an abandoned town would be a good chance to do that. He just needed to sort out his thoughts, work through some of the things that had been spinning around in his brain since that afternoon.
He hadn’t looked at Misha since they left that field – he couldn’t bring himself to. He’d kept his eyes down or focused on other things throughout the afternoon and that evening as they settled down for the night - focusing on building a fire, and then heating up some of the food they had left. He only responded in grunts or with as few words as possible when the need arose, but otherwise they spent the rest of the day in relative silence.
Things were easier when it was just him. He didn’t have to think about how much he really had wanted to take what Misha had offered him, didn’t have to have images of his wife beneath him when he was with someone else, didn’t have to think about how lonely it had been, didn’t know how lonely it had been. And then Misha had to come along and fuck everything up. He hated the way it was so easy to be with him, the way he found himself smiling and laughing when he’d thought he’d never be able to do either again.
Misha had changed so much about his life in the short time they had known one another and Jeff found himself loving and hating every single thing that had changed.
It was getting cooler in the evenings, and while he might have put out the fire before they bedded down for the night before, they needed the heat now. He wondered how they would get by when winter came - it was lucky they were heading south in any case and he hoped it would give them some respite from the winters he was used to.
And it was with the crackling fire and the creak of crickets in the dark that Jeff let his eyes close and he drifted off to sleep.
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking against the sun that filtered in through his window, grumbling and turning into his pillow seeking just a few more minutes of sleep before the day began.
Mary stretched beside him, arms thrown over her head, and he could imagine the way it pulled at the little bit of silk she had worn to sleep and he smiled into his pillow and stretched out a hand, his fingers curled easily around the warm curve of her hip and he pulled her close, settling her hips against his own, so that his chest was pressed against her back as he buried his face in the crook of her neck kissing softly, already feeling the way that smile he loved so much bloomed across her face.
“Morning.” Her voice was quiet, still drowsy with sleep.
“Morning.” His own much rougher, sleep clinging with its tight grip even as moved further into wakefulness.
They didn’t talk much in the mornings, neither of them particularly excited about leaving their bed for the day; they had always been night people, staying up to all hours talking, touching, kissing, laughing. But morning always came, pulling them away from the other no matter how hard they tried to push it away.
Jeff stroked his thumb across the slight curve of her belly and continued pressing sleep sweet kisses into her hair and across her shoulder.
“Going to make it hard to get up, if you keep doing that.”
“Maybe I don’t want you getting up.”
She turned in his arms, pressing herself against his chest in the surrounding warmth of his arms. It was only when she was facing him that Jeff let himself open his eyes. This was exactly what he wanted to wake up to every morning for the rest of his life, those beautiful eyes and that teasing playful smile.
“Going to keep me in bed all day?” she asked before she tilted her neck, angling herself up just enough to kiss him blocking any chance he’d had to answer her question. It was easier this way, kissing like neither one of them had things, responsibilities they had to get to that day. Like they could spend the rest of the day in bed just like he’d suggested.
“It’s alright,” she said when she pulled back, lips pressed together, and Jeff frowned.
“What is?”
“To love him.”
“Who?”
“You’ll understand later.” Her smile was sad now as she stroked her fingertips across his cheek. “I want you to be happy, even if I’m not the one who gets to do that.”
Jeff rolled his eyes and kissed her again. “Now you’re just being silly, Who else would even get the chance when I have you?”
“You’ll understand later,” she said again.
His brow furrowed as he tried to understand now, but he couldn’t make sense of what she meant. Couldn’t wrap his mind around the words, but before he could press the issue further she was kissing him again. Soft and hungry, tongue warm and teasing against his lips seeking entrance and enticing at the same time.
And Jeff let himself be swept away by it.
It was the shout that woke him, dragging him with a start away from his dream. And before he could make sense of what was happening around him he was being dragged to his feet. There were men – Jeff was still trying to understand what was happening too distracted to count them, trying to make sense of what was happening. He looked across the smoldering fire to find Misha held by two of the men, two others were holding his own arms.
“We finally caught up,” came a pleased and familiar voice.
And there just behind Misha stood Michael, a twisted smile on his face. “I was starting to think we weren’t going to be able to catch up. We did give you an unprecedented head-start after all; one whole week.”
Jeff was trying to form the words, still not understanding what was happening – Michael? Here? And so far away from his town? It didn’t make sense. Why was he here? What did he want?
“Well, you didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?” Michael chuckled with none of the fake politeness that it had held the last time Jeff had seen this man. “Why would we just let you leave like that?” He shook his head and clucked his tongue, stepping into their makeshift camp, kicking dirt over the remains of the fire. “You see, things get so frightfully boring these days; we needed a way to liven things up.”
Things were starting to click for Jeff.
“I always was a fan of hunting; my father used to take me when I was younger.” Jeff felt the pit of his stomach drop. Hunting? They had beenhunted for the last few weeks. “Suddenly, the idea occurred to me some months after we set up in our humble little town - what better way to create some excitement than hunting? Though, with the way we have to gather food these days, traditional hunting didn’t hold the same appeal.” He looked fondly at Misha, now, and Jeff wanted to punch him - to drive his fist into the other man’s face again and again until he couldn’t look at Misha like that ever again.
“The first time we tried it, things were a little .... sloppy.” Jeff could see the distaste on Michael’s face, and he willed himself not to be sick at that thought. “But there have been a few travelers that have happened through our area since then, and we’ve greatly improved our technique.” He could see how pleased Michael was that they’d managed to get the hunting of men down to an art.
“Too much blood if you use guns, you understand.” Jeff tried not to roll his eyes. “It’s the tracking that is the real thrill, and of course the look on your face now that we’ve caught you.”
“So now what?” Jeff spat. “Going to let us go and then track us again?”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand. We couldn’t rightly call this hunting if we left you alive, could we? Besides, it’s time Misha came home.” He smiled and Misha was suddenly fighting, pulling an arm free from his captors.
“No! No I’m not going back to that!” He slugged one of the men that held him in the stomach, though it didn’t do much; the two men easily caught hold of Misha and his flailing arms in just a few moments.
“Now now, pet.” Michael clicked his tongue and stepped forward to stroke Misha’s cheek. “We’ll take good care of you, just like we always did.”
Misha spat at Michael’s face, earning him the butt of a gun to the back of his head.
It was Jeff’s turn to struggle now; he had more luck than Misha, his fist connecting squarely to one of his captors’ jaw and dropping him easily. He turned to the other man, wanting to deal with him before he made his move on the rest of them; he’d spent the year running, but he wasn’t going to do that now. He wasn’t going to sit there and let those men take the only thing that had made him smile in months.
It was the sound of the shotgun cocking behind him that stilled his fist just mere inches from the other man’s face.
He turned slowly to see his own gun pointing straight at his chest.
“So shoot me,” he challenged.
“Not yet.” Michael stilled the man who held the gun with a hand. “We don’t use guns for hunting; I thought I told you that, Jeff.” He shook his head like he was talking to a child, having to repeat the same thing over and over. “No, it will be much more satisfying to know you’ll die slowly.” He smirked and nodded his head.
The shot Jeff had been waiting for never came; it would have been easier, just one shot to end it all. Instead, it was slow and painful. The first bright blossom of pain came in the form of a fist to his cheek, followed swiftly by another at his hip and slowly he was overwhelmed by punches until he crumpled to the ground, curling around himself only to have the sharp connection of a boot with his back as his only reward.
It carried on until Jeff knew he was dead, until there was no use holding on, until there was only darkness.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5