Page 18 of Phantom Universe

CHAPTER 17: BINDING

  16 years old

  Summer and Jaden huddle together inside one of the sleeping bags and share their warmth in the cold, damp cave. Summer slept the majority of the night, though she was aware whenever Gage and Cameron changed shifts for lookout throughout the night. She’s come to realize that neither Gage nor Cameron have any intentions of hurting them—at least not right now. Though her heart is pretty sure Gage wasn’t lying last night. Jaden snores softly next to her, while Summer peeks out of the sleeping bag to catch Gage’s still form in the other one.

  His blonde hair is not the typical military high and tight. Besides being tousled with sleep, it’s combed forward to reveal just enough length to be rebellious, yet short enough to not be sloppy. A few strands of hair fall dangerously close to his eyebrows and tickle his forehead. She wishes he was awake so she could dive into the heavenly green of his hypnotic eyes. His nose, with its little, imperfect bump, is slightly blushed from the cold air. Full lips curve into a smile as he dreams. She’s curious of what, or who, it is that he’s dreaming of. Startlingly, his eyes fly open, and Summer dives into the sleeping bag to cover her face. Jaden moans quietly, turns over, and falls quickly back to sleep. It’s unbelievably embarrassing that she was just caught ogling Gage while he sleeps.

  The only noise is the roaring waterfall covering the entrance, so she’s not sure if he’s fallen back to sleep or not. After several breathless moments, she glances over the edge of the sleeping bag and comes face to face with those chaotically, beautiful green eyes. For the first time in years, a scream almost escapes. Before she attempts to dig a hole out of the sleeping bag while scrambling away, Gage reaches out tenderly and runs his hand down her cheek. She freezes and finally takes in his expression—he’s smiling, but not menacing or evil-like. He’s smiling like Landon would, though Gage’s eyes have this fierce intensity to them that Landon’s doesn’t.

  “Did you sleep well?” he barely whispers—lip reading necessary.

  She shakes her head and holds her hand over his. Her cheek starts to warm under his palm.

  “You’re cold,” he notes with a frown. His other palm encloses her face, and her cheeks are flaming—more with the emotions flowing through her than anything else.

  Cameron comes into view and leans over his shoulder. “How is she today?”

  “Not sure yet—she obviously didn’t sleep well, and she feels like her temperature could be too low.” His eyes don’t leave Summer’s as he accesses her situation. Her head pounds slightly from her head wound.

  Cameron sighs, and if Summer isn’t mistaken, she would say it’s in concern. “I should probably check her out again, and feed her some breakfast.”

  Jaden yawns loudly behind Summer. “What’s going on?” she asks sleepily.

  “We’re hoping to call in transport today to bring us to the hospital,” Cameron says. “If the lines are still static we’ll have to walk. It’ll take several days, and I’m afraid we’re just not prepared for such a long trip in the wild.”

  Jaden stretches as she sits up and meets the cold air. “It’s freezing in here.” Her hands run up and down her arms. “Anyway, if we get stuck out there—‘in the wild’—we’ll be fine. Remember, I can hunt. My old master liked to hunt for sport and brought me along to do the dirty work.”

  “I don’t think you understand—plus, hunting is illegal,” Cameron argues. “It’s dangerous out there, and we can’t just hunt without permission. There are hunting seasons, and you must be trained beforehand. Only a handful of people are chosen to hunt—usually it’s a talent that runs in the family. If you’re caught without the proper permits you could be put on trial. Some have even been executed!”

  The word startles Summer, but Gage’s palm over her cheek prevents her from flinching away. Her breath catches in her throat. Cameron said “executed.” It’s unsettling and upsetting to hear that.

  “There is no way I’d starve over a stupid law like that,” says Jaden, her voice even. “If you are so afraid to hunt, I’ll do it for you.”

  Cameron huffs. “Buying illegally hunted game is also illegal.”

  “It’s your lucky day then. I’m giving it away for free!”

  Gage and Cameron can’t help but chuckle.

  “Plus, I saw both of you partaking in the eating of my rabbit,” Jaden adds.

  Cameron opens her mouth as if to say something, but then her face goes blank, like her mind has left the proverbial building. Suddenly, she blinks her brown eyes rapidly before shrugging. “Well, looks like it won’t be an issue. Transport just contacted me. They’ll be here in a few hours—told us to hang tight and to eat some breakfast in the mean time.” She looks at the back of Gage’s head. “It’s gotten worse,” is all she says to him.

  Gage closes his eyes, frowns, and sighs. “I was afraid of that. Did you tell them who our passengers are and that both of them need medical attention?” Summer watches the lines of his face grow hard and straight, though his hands warming her cheeks stay gentle.

  “Yes, they know. There were some protests, but I have great connections in the transport system thanks to my profession.” Cameron begins to unpack food from her bag and sits it out. “Doctor Rose is waiting at the Phantomship Medical Institute.”

  The tension in Gage’s jaw softens, and his eyes open to expose those spellbinding eyes, entrapping Summer immediately. “That’s good news,” he says.

  Jaden hops out of the sleeping bag and starts to ask Cameron a million questions about the food and other things in her pack. Summer, on the other hand, doesn’t move she’s so enthralled by Gage.

  “Hey, are you warmer now?” His voice is soft, like a caress over her skin. She nods between his palms, and he lets go. “It’s been too hot outside to carry any kind of cold weather gear, so I’m sorry I don’t have anything warmer,” Gage continues as he sits up, turns, and digs through his pack, his voice becoming muffled. “But I hope these will fit.” He pivots back around and hands her some folded clothes.

  Sitting up, she takes the clothes from him and grins.

  “Oh, and one more thing.” He holds up his finger as he rummages in his pack again. “Now you’re set.” On the pile of clothes, he adds a plastic bag full of things she doesn’t recognize, and she glances up at him in question. It’s like an automatic gesture now as he holds out his hand, palm up.

  Summer drops the clothes and bag into her lap and gingerly takes his palm. “I don’t know what to do with the stuff in the bag,” she writes slowly with a shrug.

  “That’s okay—I’ll show you.” Gage glances over his shoulder at Cameron to see how much longer until breakfast, then he turns back to Summer. “If you want to change, you can go around that corner”—he points to where Cameron and Jaden went last night—“and then I can show you what to do with the rest of this stuff. Sound good?”

  She inclines her head and writes in his palm, “Thank you.”

  “It’s not a problem.” He stands, turning his hand so he can help her up. She’s not sure for a second, but he waits with an encouraging smile until she gives in. The sleeping bag tumbles from her tiny frame, and the cold air immediately rushes in, penetrating her skin and sending chills down her body. “We’ll be out of here soon,” he promises and rubs his hands along her upper arms to create friction to warm her.

  Biting her lip, she nods and backs away. The light follows her into what appears to be a small passageway to another part of the cave. The mystery of the light isn’t answered when she spins around for the source. She quickly pulls off and tosses her ratty pair of pants on the ground. The black pants Gage gave her are several sizes too large—in length and around her waist. The top has a string she uses to tighten them, and she then rolls the waistline until the pants no longer drag along the floor. Next, she removes her bloody shirt—which might as well be called a potato sack, because it used to be one. Landon was creative enough to make it into a shirt for her; he even sowed the hemlines. This she makes sure to fold nea
tly. If Landon never returns she wants a physical reminder of their amazing friendship. The black shirt she throws over her head is long-sleeved and engulfs her. It’s so long it hits the tops of her knees. Gage was even nice enough to include a pair of black socks; they are so long they reach past her knees. The only things missing are underwear and shoes.

  Summer peers around the corner to see the three of them cooking a strange looking breakfast. Cameron has lain down a thin piece of metal that glows red and has placed a compressed bag of food over it. It grows larger and larger until purple steam rises from a hole in the top. Cameron drags it off the heated metal and lets it cool before cutting the bag open with, what appears to be in Summer’s vision, thin air. Jaden is riveted, giggling with the hugest grin she can plaster across her face.

  “And what’s this called?” Jaden asks excitedly.

  “Le lunamow, cuisine Leaguer style,” Cameron explains with a grim expression, poking the food like it’s going to attack her at any moment. “It’s actually one of the more edible foods we carry around with us when we’re destined for places far from headquarters. It’s a mix between le luna, a genetically altered vegetable with high fiber and healthy calories, and mows, or mutant cows, as the kids like to call them.”

  Jaden is thrilled by this, while Summer gasps audibly and puts her back to the wall. She’s aghast at the thought of someone taking her favorite vegetables, and the lovable cow—not that she’d ever met one before—and altering them . . . mutating them so they are better for humans! It’s just such a selfish thing to do.

  Startled silence greets her echoing gasp, and then whispers break out. Jaden and Cameron continue their conversation about the food eaten in the Canadian Federation, while Gage’s voice is absent.

  What kind of strange, unusual universe have I stepped into? She runs a hand through her tangled blonde hair.

  “Summer?” Gage calls from around the corner. “May I . . . are you dressed?”

  One knock on the rock behind her. Her blue eyes hide behind closed lids, and her chest aches with worry and anxiety. Things used to be so simple, even if she was a slave before. What is she now? A patient? A burden? An Outlander? Or do they plan to alter her genes until she’s a mutated human with military-controlled super powers? Really, what does she know about this world? It’s not that she is a skeptic when it comes to the things they tell her about. She’s truly afraid of trusting someone she doesn’t know. Anything can happen. Gage has some sort of soothing, almost anesthetic-like, influence over her. His touch is like a drug, and that scares her more than anything—because the Captain never had any kind of hold over her besides the whip (and a few other choice torture tools) that his crew kept just for her. But Gage, he hasn’t even hurt her . . . and she’s already bending to his will, wearing his clothes, staring into his eyes and getting lost. His eyes are a weapon all on their own, and the one thing she’s yet to be able to withstand.

  “Summer.” His voice is like a warming presence, the tone forlorn. “Please, please open your eyes.” Everything he says, how he says it, commands and soothes. Convinces and conquers.

  Her eyelids grow tighter—bind to the point of stars shining in her vision—and she shakes her head adamantly. Doesn’t he understand she can’t attach herself to anyone like that? The whole point of escaping was for her to have free will. If he only asks and uses his communicative eyes, she will obey.

  “This is so frustrating,” he says roughly, though his voice is so, so gentle. “I don’t even know you, and you’ve stolen a part of me. Why can’t I let you go and treat you like the other Outlanders? Why does my heart insist I stay and fight for you?” He lets out a lengthy breath, and the heat of it washes over her. “Summer, what are you doing to me? I’d do anything you asked of me. Anything. Just—”

  Summer’s brilliant blue eyes open in shock. He’s thinking the same things I am. Realization pounds into her. His expression is disheartening, his eyes massive orbs of suffering and remorse.

  “Hey,” he whispers, just like the first time they met.

  She wants to kiss him—she wants to hit him. Maybe she wants to run from him. Really, she’s not sure what she wants. The long sleeves of the shirt tangle as she tries to lift her hand.

  “Let me help,” he offers and reaches around her waist, his hand trailing up her back.

  Her heart turns to assault mode, battling in her chest, soaking in the oxygen from her rapid breaths, and pumping it through her body with extraordinary force. It tingles and makes her feel wonderful and frightened all at once. His body is touching hers, pressing her up against the rock. His other hand is flat against the rock next to her head. The day Jarvis held her face against the ship’s deck as he shoved her rags over her head come ramming back into her skull like a million hammers nailing the image in to stay.

  Her body betrays her emotions too much for her liking. Gage’s breath on her neck as he snakes his arm up her lower back, and the full body contact begins to make her tremble with ferocity. She will give anything to have the image of Jarvis go away and to replace it with Gage’s gentle, tender touches. It’s been four years, but maybe it’ll never be enough time to erase the fear. Gage presses lightly with one finger in the middle of her back before releasing the pressure. The shirt swiftly shrinks, conforming to her curves with ease. He backs away slowly, his hand stopping on her hip, his nose mere centimeters from her ear.

  “Don’t be scared,” he pleads softly. “Please.” He chokes on the word.

  Still shaking, trembling, heart banging roughly, Summer decides to not let this rule her life. The sensations are still there, the palpable taste of fear on her tongue, the rain splashing the ground in its passive, unemotional state. The memory’s inside every part of her senses, corrupting and poisoning anything in its path.

  Gage pulls away, and through her tears, her pure, undiluted terror, she sees a man with soft, compassionate eyes—knowing eyes. He isn’t Jarvis. There is no comparison between the two. It’s not exactly a revelation, but an understanding. Passion and terror aren’t the same, but Summer must overcome the overwhelming sensations that they are.

  Before Gage’s hand slips completely from her hip, she holds her hand over his and pulls it back around. She wraps her arms around his thick, muscular waist, and places her head on his warm chest. And then she weeps all the tears of suffering she’s always afraid to let go. Gasping, gulping, heaving tears—she hasn’t cried this hard since she was four. If Landon is her salvation, Gage is her healer. He holds her with the strength of a million-man army, but with all the tenderness of her heart lying naked in the palms of his hands.

  He circles his other arm around her shoulders, rubs soothingly at her back, and pulls her away from the rocks. He says nothing, only holds her as she lets the emotional stain of all the years escape her eyes and brand his shirt. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, he doesn’t demand answers, and he doesn’t punish her for the squeaks and wails that grow louder as she fists his shirt in the back.

  “Your cries pierce my heart,” he whispers. “And your emotions are a tangible flavor on my tongue.”

  This is when she should flinch, or duck away and hide in panic for the punishment that is to come with such a fit. Instead, he grasps her tighter, his arms made just to hold her. She clings to him as her life falls apart in his hands, hoping he can save her—that he can heal her. That maybe, one day, he can love her, even though she doesn’t truly deserve to be loved.

  As her sobs are controlled, and her body’s trembling decreases, she releases her death grip on his shirt. Gage backs away slightly to gaze down at her tear-stained face and begins to wipe them all away. “Hey now, it’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” He pauses to take in her puffy eyes, her red rimmed lips, and richly blue eyes. He sighs softly. “This wasn’t about that, was it?”

  Summer shakes her head spiritlessly.

  “Was it about . . . the guy who . . . you know?” He can’t form the question, as if the terrible idea deeply u
psets him too.

  Summer responds with a tiny nod, her eyes downcast, staring at his oddly fascinating black boots.

  “You know I’d never do that to you, right?” He swallows thickly when she glances up at him. “Me? I’m safe. No punishment, no rape, no anything you don’t want.” He takes a deep breath and brushes her hair away from her face. “You’ve been traumatized, and I know it’ll take time. But you know what, Summer?” He tips a finger under her chin, his skin warm and soft. “I’ll be here to help—and to prove to you that I’m not that kind of person.”

  Summer blinks, and two more tears trail down her cheeks before her lips twitch, just a little bit, into a smile. She gives the tiniest nod.

  “Was that a yes? You understand?” he asks with a grin.

  She snatches his palm away from her face and writes across it, “Yes! Yes!”

  “That’s great. Are you ready for me to show you how to use everything in that bag?” He backs away from her and snatches it off the ground.

  Her smile shows her answer.

  He pulls out a small silver and green packet. “This,” he explains, “is for your teeth. Just pop it in your mouth and let it disintegrate on your tongue for two minutes. Here, try it.”

  She flips the packet around and around, wondering how that will clean her teeth. As per his instructions, she tears it open and places it on her outstretched tongue. Then she closes her mouth and waits. Her mouth explodes with the minty sensation of bubbles expanding and attacking every inch of her mouth. She almost spits it out, but Gage rushes forward and lightly holds her jaw closed.

  “Trust me, you’ll feel much better when it’s done.” His grin shows off his brilliantly white smile.

  She makes a show of holding her mouth shut by covering it with her hand. When the two minutes are up, and the wild sensation has died down, she looks to Gage for what to do next.

  “Swallow,” he instructs, and she does.

  It’s the most refreshing her mouth has ever tasted. This is so much better than any toothbrush. She’s beginning to think she’ll like the future—eventually. There’s just one very important thing missing. Landon.