LONG ROAD AHEAD

8

They were on the road again early. Once the sun rose over the horizon, they were on their way out of town. They marched along beneath the hot sun all morning. Phoenix blazed the way with Craven following behind her. He listened as she hummed and sang as she trudged along.

            He smiled as he listened. She had a lovely voice and was oddly chipper this morning. Perhaps a good night’s rest was all she had needed. “You seem in a good mood,” he said, catching up and walking at her side.

            “I slept well,” she said, avoiding eye contact. “How about you?”

            “Any night in a bed is a good night,” he smiled. Craven looked ahead and saw the desert come to an end. A wide canyon lay in front of them, stretching endlessly in either direction. Craven stepped to the edge and looked down. The canyon was deep with a steep drop off on either side.

            “Wasn’t there a bridge around here once?” Phoenix asked, lifting her hand to her eyes to block out the sun as she did a quick visual search. Craven had just been thinking the same thing. He knew, for a fact, there were towns on the other side of this canyon. He had been there many times before. There had been a rope bridge strung across this canyon at one point. Only like Phoenix, Craven did not see it.

            “Let’s walk up that way and see if we can’t find it,” he suggested. They wandered up the canyon for about a mile and found the bridge but were less than enthused by what they found. The bridge was out. Somehow it had been damaged. Planks were missing altogether, and the few that were still intact had been charred and looked half rotten. Parts of the suspension rope were broken, and the bridge hung lopsided. It didn’t look safe to cross.

            “We can’t cross that,” Phoenix sighed, shaking her head. “There’s got to be another way around this canyon. Can we walk around it?”

            Craven looked in both directions. “It goes on forever in each direction. It could take days to find a way around it.”

            Phoenix looked over the edge judging the distance down. “Well, I don’t think we can climb down,” she came back to his side and pushed her hood back off her golden hair. “Do the maps show any other bridges?”

            Craven reached into the folds of his cloak and removed the book. He flipped through the maps trying to find the canyon. It took him a few moments, but he finally located it. Judging by the map, this bridge didn’t exist. It would be impossible to know for sure if there was another bridge or not. He tucked the book safely away in the folds of his cloak and made sure everything was securely fastened to his person. “We’ll have to cross here,” he declared.

            Phoenix raised a skeptical brow. “Have you lost your mind? That bridge is decrepit.”

            Craven chuckled. “Don’t tell me you are afraid of heights?” He teased playfully as he walked over to the bridge.

            “No,” she said as she secured everything to her person and came to his side, “I’m afraid of plummeting to my death.”

            Craven reached out and took the rope of the bridge and gave it a good shake to see how strong it was. When it didn’t break, he slowly stepped out on the first plank. It supported his weight so it would support hers. “It should hold us.”

            “I don’t think this is a good idea,” Phoenix objected.

            “Unless you got a better idea, this is our way across,” Craven said firmly. “This support rope goes all the way across. Just hold onto it, and we should be good.”

            “But the other one is broken.”

            “We will be fine,” he said, taking her hand and placing it on the thick rope. “Now come along. Just don’t look down,” Craven slowly began to cross the unstable, broken bridge. Taken careful well-placed steps. Making sure each plank would support him before he removed his foot from the last. When there were gaps, he held tight to the rope and, placing his feet on the bottom rope, shimmied along.

            Phoenix followed his lead, and the bridge wobbled and bobbed with their movement. They were halfway across the bridge, shimmying across the large gap when the bridge jerked and dropped half a foot. Phoenix screamed with fright and held tighter to the rope. Craven increased his grip, and they both looked back and noticed the wooden pillar the rope was tied to had begun to break, the wood charred and brittle. The rope had started to come loose. It would not hold much longer.

            “The rope is going to break,” Phoenix cried.

            Craven began to move as quickly as he could while maintaining his balance. “Phoenix, unless you can fly, I suggest you move it,” she hastened her pace as she followed him along the rope. They grew closer to the edge, and the bridge jerked and dipped again. Phoenix cried out in terror, and Craven lost his footing. Slipping, he held tight to the rope, catching himself immediately and pulling himself up to find his footing once more. His heart was beating wildly in his chest.

            It was a long way down, and he certainly did not wish to fall. There were jagged rocks below, and he was sure he would not survive the impact. “I can’t do it,” she cried, clutching to the rope with fear her eyes closed.

            “Yes, you can. We’re almost there,” Craven coaxed, wrapping his arm around the rope to secure himself, he reached for her and took her hand in his. “Just come to me.”

            “I’m going to fall.”

            “I won’t let you fall,” he promised, his gaze catching hers. “Come on,” she began to move toward him, the bridge swaying with the motion. Suddenly the rope snapped, and the bridge fell. Phoenix screamed as the bridge gave out beneath them. “Phoenix!” Craven held tight to her hand as they dropped. His other arm twined around the rope. His hand clutching to the rope and the other end of the bridge stayed intact. What was left of it, swung down and slammed into the wall of the canyon.

            The impact from hitting the canyon wall jolted them both, and pain tore through Craven’s shoulder. He grimaced, bearing the full weight of both their bodies on his aching shoulder. Craven clutched the rope, and he prayed that it too would not snap. Below him, he had Phoenix dangling by one arm and slipping. The fear in her eyes frightened him. He was going to drop her. He could feel her slipping, and there was nothing he could do.

            “Don’t drop me!” She begged.

            “Grab the rope,” he yelled down.

            “I can’t,” she cried.

            She was too scared. He would have to carry them both to the top. “I can’t climb and hold you.”

            “Don’t drop me!” She panicked.

            “I’m going to let go,” he said. “I want you to grab onto my leg and pull yourself up. Hold onto me, and I’ll pull us both up.”

            Phoenix reached out and wrapped her arms around his legs. She reached up, grabbing onto his belt and pulled herself up with great difficulty. He reached down, grabbing onto her and helped to haul her up. Phoenix inched her way up to his back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Can you carry us both?”

            He reached his other arm up and took hold of the rope. The strain was intense as he slowly dragged himself up the rope. One arm over the other, he crept slowly up the line. His arms trembled from the exertion, and sweat beaded on his forehead as he grew closer to the top. Reaching the top, he reached over the edge and took hold of the wooden pillar and pulled them up over the top.

            Safely back on solid ground, they both dropped down, laying in the dirt and breathing heavily. Another near-death avoided. Laying on her back, Phoenix turned her head in his direction. “It will hold us, will it?”

            “I got us across, didn’t I?” He panted. “And I didn’t drop you.”

            She smiled and rolled over, placing her hand on his chest. “That is right, you didn’t, and for that, I am grateful,” she said. “You certainly earned this,” she grinned, placing a kiss upon his lips to thank him for saving her life. It was just a light brush of their lips, but it was enough to spark something between them. Like lightning surging from her lips to his, she pulled back suddenly as if burnt, her fingertips subconsciously moving to her lips.

            His gaze held hers, and he could swear he could see a storm brewing behind those smoky pools. She had the most amazing eyes. It took his breath away that they were looking at him. His gaze drifted to her lips, those plush, lush, sweet lips. He wanted so badly to kiss her once more. The remainder of the knife between his legs deterred him from acting on impulse.

            Craven cleared his throat awkwardly and tore his gaze away. “We should get moving once more. Find shelter before it gets dark,” he suggested rolling over and getting up. He offered his hand and helped Phoenix to her feet. He had met someone a year ago on a job. A merchant on his way home. They had shared a few drinks one night and become fast friends. If he recalled correctly, he lived in the town just northeast of here.

            “I know someone that lives in Davenport. I’m sure we can get a room with him,” Craven suggested. Phoenix paused, and then her expression became steeled and indifferent. She pulled her hood up over her head and began to walk. “Is something wrong?” He asked, finding her reaction odd.

            “No, let’s just get indoors before nightfall.”

***

            Davenport… it was the same cesspool she remembered. Phoenix kept her cloak pulled tight around her, and her hood pulled low over her face. She kept her head down, and her eyes open. She was greatly uncomfortable back in her hometown. She wanted to get indoors and out of sight as soon as possible.

            “Where does your friend live?” She asked as they wandered through town.

            “I’m not sure,” Craven said. “I’ve only ever been here once, and it was before I met him. Why are you so edgy?” He asked as they walked side by side.

            “I’m not,” she snapped. “Let’s just find him already. I want to get off the street.”

            “Let’s go in there and ask around,” Craven suggested pointing to the local bar. A gaggle of prostitutes leaning out the upstairs window waving and calling to catch Craven’s attention.

            A flood of horrible memories came rushing back as she looked at those upper rooms. Phoenix stopped outside and pulled her hood down farther and raised her hand to shield her face. Unnerved to be standing outside the very place she had been sold too, the very place she had fled so many years ago. She did not wish to be recognized by the owner or any of his girls.

            “I’ll stay out here,” she said, refusing to follow him inside. Craven eyed her suspiciously but said nothing. He went inside to ask about his friend. Phoenix wandered, feeling the need to put some distance between her and the bar. She remained within sight, so Craven would see her when he came out. She paced back and forth compulsively, looking back over her shoulder to see if Craven had come out and feeling frustratingly impatient that he had not.

            She was so distracted, she had not noticed the people around her, and walked right into a tower of muscle. Winded Phoenix looked up at the man she had run in to and her heart sunk as she came face to face with the same golden hair and blue eyes that had tormented her so often throughout her childhood. “Phoenix?” Her brother Dallas gasped, surprised to see her. “Hey, Austin, it’s Phoenix,” he called out to their other brother, who suddenly materialized behind her.

            Phoenix turned around to see Austin’s dark eyes smiling down at her, the sun shining on his raven coloured hair. Austin looked just like their father, and it was horrifying how much so. “Well, look at that, and you said we would never see her again.”

            “So, I stand corrected.”

            “Daddy’s sure going to be happy to see you, missy,” Austin grinned. “You sure made him look bad when you ran off,” Phoenix turned to run, but her brothers scooped her up. Dallas took her legs, and Austin had her by the arms. “You are coming home with us.”

            “No!” She screamed, thrashing around, trying to get free. “Put me down!”

            “Daddy’s going to whop you good,” Austin laughed as they tried to drag her off.

            Phoenix screamed and kicked, lashing out as best she could, trying to get free. She could not be taken back. Craven came running out of the bar and fired his pistol into the air, bringing them to a pause. “Let her go,” he demanded.

            “Stay out of this,” Austin barked, “she belongs to us.”

            “I don’t think so,” Craven said, aiming at Austin and coming forward.

            “Craven?” Dallas dropped Phoenix’s legs, but Austin still held her tight.

            Craven looked at her brother and smiled, “Dallas, I was just looking for you,” oh, dear God, his friend was her brother. How could things get worse? “What are you doing?” He asked, looking at Phoenix.

            “This doesn’t concern you,” Dallas assured him. “She is our kin,” he explained, “our sister, she is a runaway, she belongs to us. We were taking her home, but she insists on fighting us.”

            Phoenix thrashed against her brother. “I don’t belong to you,” she barked. “Let me go,” she demanded.

            “You belong to Daddy, and he’ll deal with you as he sees fit,” Austin barked.

            “He sold me,” she growled.

            “And you ran off. He had to pay back what he got for you; that means you belong to him once more. This time he’ll sell you to someone with shackles,” Austin laughed.

            “I’m afraid that is not possible,” Craven objected.

            Both her brothers glared at him, not about to allow him to interfere in family matters. “And you intend to stop us? It is our right.”

            Craven looked back and forth between Austin and Dallas, two large men. Craven smiled and returned his pistol to its holster. “No, it’s just that she doesn’t belong to you; she belongs to me,” he announced. “She is my wife,” he lied, “which makes her my property. Neither you nor your daddy can sell her to anyone… without having to deal with me first. And I’m not interested in selling.”

            Dallas looked at Craven and then Phoenix, then back to Craven. “You weren’t married last year. When did this happen?” 

            “Recently,” he answered.

            Austin eyed him suspiciously. “If you are really married to Phoenix, tell us what she is like?”

            Craven scoffed. “Mouthy, temperamental, ungrateful, unbelievably frustrating, with a mean right hook,” he smiled then and held out his hand toward her. “But damn what a body.”

            Her brothers laughed, and Austin released her. “Yeah, they must be married,” Phoenix moved quickly and stood behind Craven, keeping him between her and her brothers. “Rescuing you is becoming a habit,” Craven whispered. For the first time since their meeting, she was grateful for his meddling interference. If there was one thing in this world that made her cower like a frightened child, it was the alarming idea of facing her father once more.

            “What are you doing in Davenport?” Dallas asked.

            “We are passing through, looking for shelter for the night before the sun falls,” Craven announced.

            They all looked up at the setting sun. The sky was painted red and orange. The hour was getting late, and soon the sun would be gone. The winter season was nearly upon them, and the days grew shorter and shorter. “Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” Dallas offered. “It’s not much, but it’s a bed and a meal. You can be on your way in the morning.”

            “Great,” Craven agreed. Great? Phoenix could not believe he had just agreed to spend the night in her family’s home. She kicked him hard in the leg and glared at him. “Ouch,” he glared back at her. “What the hell?”

            “We’re not staying with them,” she whispered.

            “It is a free room and a free meal,” he pointed out.

            “We can rent a room,” she stressed, knowing how unlikely it might be to find an available room at that hour, let alone one that would rent to a woman.

            “I’m sure you can suck it up for one night,” he whispered.

            Her eyes narrowed in annoyance, and Phoenix stomped on his foot hard in childish retaliation. Craven yelped and jumped back, glaring daggers at her. “Oops, sorry, darling, clumsy me,” she said, offering him a strained smile.

            Craven gritted his teeth and took her by the arm, trying to contain his annoyance. “Come now, darling, let’s go,” holding her arm tight, he forced her to come along as they followed her brothers through town. She could feel her anxiety grow as she recognized the route. It was the way home. She had walked it a million times as a child. She recognized the merchant stands and the other shacks. Her heart almost stopped when they turned the corner, and she saw the home that had been a prison for her for so many years.

            Phoenix dug in her heels, refusing to move; Craven dragged her along, fighting with her to move. “You can’t make me,” she growled. “I won’t go back in there.”

            “You have no choice,” he snapped. “We have no place else to go, and it is not safe to remain on the streets after dark. You know that.”

            “I’ll take my chances in the street,” she snarled. “It is not safe in there either.”

            Craven sighed and released her. He stood face to face with her and tried to calm her fears. “Look, I understand, I do, but I promise not to let anything happen. I won’t leave your side for a moment,” he promised. “You are safe with me. Trust me. Can you do that?”

            Phoenix stared up into his dark eyes and saw the sincerity behind his words. Still, her fear was strong. “No,” she said firmly.

Craven frowned, “ok then,” he sighed and then bending his leg, he took Phoenix and tossed her over his shoulder.

She screamed with fury and kicked her legs. Her fists were beating against his back. “Put me down right now, Craven,” she ordered.

            “We are going to spend the night. You don’t have to like it. You just have to accept it,” he said, carrying her through the door of the shack. Like hell she was, Phoenix stretched her arms out to her sides and grabbed hold to the sides of the entranceway, bringing them to an abrupt halt in the threshold of the doorway. “Phoenix, let go,” Craven barked.

            “No!”

            Craven slid her off his shoulder and turned around, wrapping his arms around her waist, his body against hers, his feet planted firmly on the ground and apart for balance, he pulled back. She held tight to the sides of the doorway, her knuckles white with the effort. The strain on her arms to hold on was almost painful. “Let go,” he ordered once more.

            “No,” she strained through clenched teeth. Suddenly Phoenix lost her grip, and they both went falling back against the floor. Craven hit the wood floor hard, and Phoenix fell on top of him, causing him to grunt in pain when her elbow dug into his belly. As they lay on the floor, the household surrounded them, staring down at the two of them on the floor.

            “Dad, this is Craven, a friend of mine,” Dallas introduced him, “and of course, you know your daughter, his wife.”

            Phoenix stared up into the cold, cruel, dark eyes of her father. He had not changed a bit over the years. His dark hair had not grown an inch, and his face was still shadowed by rough, grainy stubble. He had the same snarl on his hard-set face that he always had as he glowered at her. “I see you are still nothing but trouble.”

            Craven shoved Phoenix off him and climbed to his feet. Phoenix got up slowly and watched as he shook her father’s hand in a proper introduction. “This is my father, Winston,” Dallas introduced them as the two men shook hands. “Craven is a mercenary,” Dallas announced.

            Her father grinned and nodded his head. “I suppose that explains the private arsenal you seem to be carrying,” he teased.

            “One can never be too prepared,” Craven said with a smile.

            “I must confess I am surprised you allow her to be armed,” her father snarled, eyeing Phoenix with contempt.

            Craven glanced at her and smirked. “We wander the wasteland. It is safer to have a second set of guns watching your back.”

            “How do you prevent her from shooting you in the back?” Her father asked.

            “I don’t give her a reason to,” Craven said simply.

            “Women are useless with weapons,” her father scoffed. “You wasted your time teaching her to shoot.”

            “Actually, she is quite a skilled marksman. She has already saved my life, and she can shoot a hawk in flight at a hundred and fifty yards,” Craven bragged. “She is rather remarkable.”

            Phoenix looked around, wondering where her mother had gotten off too. Surely, she had heard the commotion. “Where is Mother?” She asked.

            “Gone,” her father snapped bitterly. “Some three years now. I sold her to cover the debt I owed after you ran off,” Phoenix stared at her father with horrified disgust. Had he callously sold his wife? “She died a few months later at the hands of a customer.”

            Phoenix stiffened her spine and thrust out her chin defiantly. The sorrow well up inside her threatening her composure. She refused to cry in front of this man. She refused to let him see weakness in her. “I told Craven they could bunk here for the night. They’ll be on their way in the morning,” Dallas informed their father.

            “I suppose,” he grumbled. “You two can sleep in that room,” he said, pointing to the room that had once been her parents’. “I’ll bunk in the next with the boys. I have one stipulation,” he added, pointing at Phoenix. “She cannot remain armed in this house.”

            “Like h-” Craven clamped his hand down hard over her mouth, cutting Phoenix off as his arms came around her, and he dragged her back toward the room.

            “Not a problem.”

            “Dinner will be served in twenty minutes,” her father announced, and Craven hauled her into the room and kicked the door shut.

            He released her, and she shoved him hard. “What do you think you are doing?” She snapped.

            “Preventing you from getting us tossed into the street,” he said, removing his cloak. “Look, I know it’s distasteful. I get that this place holds painful memories for you. You just need to hold it together just long enough to eat, and then we’ll make excuses to go to bed and spend the rest of the night hold up in the room. We’ll leave with daybreak. You can do this,” he said, removing his shotguns.

            Phoenix placed her bow and quiver down. She tossed the satchel on the floor in the corner and removed her cloak. “I am not going unarmed,” she said firmly.

            “It is for one night,” he argued.

            “I don’t care if it is for one minute. I won’t leave myself vulnerable and exposed to those people,” she hissed.

            “I will be armed and right at your side the whole time,” he reminded her, “and believe it or not, I am pretty good with these things; they are not just for show,” he smiled. “I won’t let anything happen; you have my word. I’m asking you to trust me. Will you please cooperate? I would hate to make this night harder than it needs to be.”

            “The man is a monster,” she said, giving him her back, her bottom lip quivering as she tried not to let her emotions rule her. “He sold me into slavery. He sold his own wife.” She whimpered, doing her best not to fall apart.

            Craven came up behind her. She felt his hands on her shoulders. “Phoenix, I’m sorry about your mother. The man is a beast, but we need shelter for the night, and this is his house. Just take your weapons off,” he insisted, his hands sliding down her arms slowly — the friction sent shivers through her body. Craven walked around her coming to stand face to face. His hands moved to her waist, gliding over the curves of her hips as he took hold of her weapons belt and worked it loose, removing it and all attached to it.

            As Craven lifted the thick leather belt from her body, Phoenix felt a huge weight lifted from her waist. Craven dropped the belt to the floor, his gaze holding hers. It was strange how oddly stimulating it was to have him disarming her. His hands moved down her legs, and he crouched down and removed the straps that held the shotgun holster to her thigh. His fingers grazed her skin, coming all too close to places on her body where no other man had been permitted to touch her. It was dangerously erotic how his dark eyes gazed up at her as he pulled the knife from her boot and tossed the weapons aside.

            Craven rose to his feet, his gaze still holding hers. She felt strangely naked without her weapons. Exposed and vulnerable like a babe in the hyena’s den. Phoenix could not help but notice the way Craven looked at her, the hunger that was burning in his eyes. She wondered if he might try once more to kiss her. What shocked her more than the heat she saw in those dark pools was the realization that she might let him.

            Ever since her dream, she had not been able to get the erotic images out of her mind. Consistently finding her mind wandering, wondering what it might feel like to be in his arms.

***

            Staring down into those incredible eyes, Craven felt a pull like no other to this unbelievable woman. He had begun by disarming her and did not want to stop there, what he would give to peel away her armour and lift that wool top off over her pretty little head. He wanted to let that golden hair down. Let it flow loose and see it spread out across the bed.

            It shook him how much she affected him. He did not understand it. One minute he wanted to throttle the little chit, and then next, he wanted to throw her to the bed and ravage her. It frustrated him to no end that he did not affect her likewise. To be so close and unable to touch her as he wished. It was like dying of thirst and being denied the water placed before you.

            He wanted her so badly sometimes he could swear that he saw the desire in her eyes too, even though he knew better. A knock at the door broke his trance, the spell she had over him lifted, and Craven moved to the door. Opening the door, Craven found Phoenix’s despicable father. “Chow is served.” The older man announced.

            Craven nodded and looked back at Phoenix, giving her a warning look with his eyes. He did not want her to cause a scene. She rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh and followed him out to the main room where the small round wooden table was set with a simple, meagre meal.

            They took their seats. Phoenix sat between Dallas and Craven. While Winston sat between his two sons and Austin sat to Cravens left. The men immediately picked up the platters of food and started serving themselves and handing it around to each other while making casual conversation. Each time Phoenix reached for the food, they ignored her and passed it to another.

            Craven quickly grew irritated with their treatment of Phoenix. When the platter was passed back across the table, he intercepted it and served Phoenix himself. An act that earned him a loathing glare from her father. “Women eat last in this house. The men need their strength,” he said with some control. “She can have whatever is left. House rules,” he stressed with a growl.

            Craven fixed Winston with a hard stare. He did not like this man. He did not like a single thing about him. It was no wonder Phoenix had such harsh feelings toward men. “She is of no use to me weak and withered.”

            “My rules or you may leave,” Winston threatened.

            Craven’s expression remained unreadable. Easy, he had years of experience doing it. He wanted to give this man a piece of his mind. Only he had just finished telling Phoenix to suck it up for the night. He could not lose his temper now and get them thrown out. Craven nodded. “Fair enough,” he finally replied. “Let me see if I understand the house rules clearly because I would hate to breach any of them. Is Phoenix allowed to eat anything we do not finish?” He asked.

            “Yes,” Winston said, digging into his meal. “Once we are done, she may have anything left over. If there is anything left.”

            “Very fair,” Craven took a big bite out of the food on his plate. He put down his utensil and sat back in his chair. “Oh, wow, that was filling,” he groaned. “I can’t eat another bite,” he picked up his plate and scraped the food onto Phoenix’s empty plate. “There you go, dear; you can have what is leftover,” Phoenix was trying to hide the smirk on her face as he danced cleverly around her father’s rules. He gave her a little wink and watched her dig into her meal. Her father was clearly displeased, but he said nothing. Technically, Craven had not broken the rules, and therefore could not be asked to leave based on it.

            After dinner, Winston insisted Phoenix clear the table while they shared a drink. She grumbled and muttered under her breath but eventually did it regardless of her discontentment. “You grant your wife far too many liberties,” Winston said as he removed a dusty bottle from a shelf. “She doesn’t know her place. Then again, she had always been a problem.”

            “I suppose it depends on how you look at the matter,” Phoenix could be a handful, he would agree, but frankly, Craven admired her spirit. Women did not typically wander the wasteland alone. Yet she had for years and had survived remarkably well. She was strong, vibrant, and independent. Not like any other woman he had come across.

            It was clear to both men they had a difference of opinion as to how to handle their women. Craven now understood Phoenix’s reservations about coming here. Had it not been for their little ruse, her father would have likely had her bound and gagged, ready for the slave market. He could see why she wished him ill will. Hell, Craven was thinking of killing the man himself.

            “Scotch,” Winston smiled, pouring them each a drink from the bottle. Then again, the man had good taste in liquor. Scotch was rare and hard to find. “Austin bartered it off a scavenger from the north. It cost quite the pretty penny but was well worth it,” he smiled, handing Craven a small clay mug. He sipped the Scotch and felt it burn its way down his throat. It had been a long time since he had anything so pure and so fine. So perfectly aged. It was a rare treat; only a shame Phoenix could not enjoy it with them.

            It baffled him to learn that Dallas and Phoenix had come from the same childhood home. Phoenix had not one pleasant memory of her family, and Dallas had fondly spoken of his home when they had last met. Craven had been completely duped; he had enjoyed Dallas’ company and become fast friends finding that they had plenty in common, but he supposed one could never really know another.

            “You said you were passing through, where too?” Austin casually inquired.

            “A town to the north, seeking work,” Craven lied. He was not about to share the true nature of their journey.

            “What sort of work do you do again?” Winston inquired.

            “He is a mercenary,” Dallas spoke up.

            “An assassin,” his father said.

            “Yes,” Craven said. 

            “Are you any good?”

            “I’ve never failed,” he said flatly. Well, at least not until he met Phoenix. She had been the first mission he had not completed. Then again, he had not failed as much as changed his mind about taking the job. He had not accepted any p*****t yet, so his conscience was clear about dropping the job. Of course, he did end up stealing the man’s book himself, but only a fool would pass up the secret the book contained.

            Craven drained his mug and handed it back. Considering the significant distance they had to travel, it was best if he turned in for the night with Phoenix. Neither he nor she wished to mingle unnecessarily longer than need be. As if reading his mind Phoenix appeared at his side, and Craven nodded politely at his hosts.

            “We thank you for your kindness, but I believe we will turn in for the night. We leave with daybreak to cover more ground,” he shook their hands and placing his hand on the small on Phoenix’s back. He ushered her back into the small room.

            He searched for a lock on the door but found none. He looked around the small room for something to wedge against the door for the night. Craven did not trust Winston for a moment, and he was not about to let his guard down enough to sleep without a secured door. Craven looked at the heavy iron-framed bed against the wall.

            He walked up to it and took hold of the foot. “Give me a hand. We’re going to push this against the door and keep them outside.”

            Without protest, Phoenix jumped to aid his efforts, and they dragged the heavy bed away from the wall and over to the door. They then walked around to the head and pushed the bed right up against the door, wedging the door shut tight. No one would be coming through that door tonight. Now they could get some sleep.

            Safely barricaded in, Craven began the task of removing his weapons. He tossed them on the floor with her things. Craven crawled onto the bed and laid down. He noticed Phoenix did not join him. She stood there, staring at the bed. The expression on her face told him she was lost in a horrible memory. Craven sat up. “Are you coming to bed? Sun up comes quickly.” He said, drawing her from her thoughts. She looked at him, and Craven could see the sorrow in her eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked with concern.

            Phoenix swallowed, choking back her emotions. She was quiet for a long time before she spoke. “My father would rape my mother in this bed.” She whimpered. The tears she was fighting tugged at his heart. He had come from a loving family, but Phoenix had not been so lucky. Being in this house was messing with her head. She was traumatized.

Craven had already forced her to stay in the home that had been so cruel to her. He could not ask her to do more. Sighing, Craven got out of bed. He took the pillow and tossed in on the floor, leaning against the wall. He then sat down, resting his back against the wall with the pillow for padding, in an attempt to make himself comfortable. He then spread his legs and patted the floor between his thighs with one hand while holding the other out to Phoenix, coaxing her to come to sit with him. If she was not comfortable sleeping in this bed, then he would sleep on the floor with her.

 She hesitated at first, but since she was clearly uncomfortable in this shack, he thought she might appreciate the comfort of his body. He would hold her through the night, and hopefully, she would feel at peace enough to sleep. After a moment of consideration, Phoenix removed her cloak and lowered herself to the floor. She sat down between his legs, resting her back against his chest and her head on his shoulder. Craven wrapped his arms around Phoenix, pulling his cloak around them both. Phoenix then dropped hers over their legs to compensate for not having a blanket.

Craven rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes to get some sleep. “Thank you.” He heard her whisper.

“For what?” He asked, never opening his eyes.

“For giving me your meal.”

“I wasn’t hungry anyway.” He lied.

“Liar.” He heard her chuckle.

“Let’s get some sleep and then get the hell out of here.” There was no more talking, and soon Craven dozed off. The feel of Phoenix in his arms oddly satisfying.     

***

            Winston knocked on the door to rouse his guest. If they did not wake soon, it would be late morning before they got on their way, and he did not want that little harlot in his house a moment longer than need be. When they did not answer after a few minutes, he pushed open the door and found the room empty. They had gone. Sometime before he woke, they must have left.

            He scoffed. Good riddance, and may something in the desert eat the little chit. If that man had any sense, he would sell the little wretch and spare himself some trouble. Winston headed for his shelves to scrounge himself up something to eat. Opening the box, he found two wet rags. Confused, he removed the rags and tossed them aside. Searching his provisions, he noticed half his jerked meat missing. Shutting the box, he looked up at his shelf. Where was the Scotch?                       

***                    

            “Scotch?” Phoenix offered after taking a sip from the bottle she had taken from her father’s household before leaving that morning.

            Craven laughed and accepted the bottle with a grateful smile that made his dark eyes sparkle. “I thought we agreed you would stop stealing?” He said, taking a sip from the bottle as they walked along.

            Phoenix offered him a mischievous smirk. “No, we agreed I would stop robbing innocent people. I think we can both agree that my father is far from an innocent.”

            “Agreed,” Craven said, handing the bottle back, “what a ghastly man. I can see why you dislike him so much,” it pleased her to hear him say so. “But think one day you will have the final laugh. You will be relaxing in paradise, and he will be spending the rest of his miserable days sweltering out in the wastelands scrounging for food,” she had to admit the idea did please her. To know she would be living well, and he would spend the rest of his days suffering in this hell. Phoenix snickered. “What’s so funny?” He asked.

“Wait until he notices all his water is gone.”She grinned vindictively. Craven laughed. Before they left, they filled their canteens and then quickly used the rest to bathe. Phoenix had even pinched her father’s cleansing bar before dumping the dirty water from the washing basin and tossing the used rag into his food box.

“Well, it was nice to get a chance to bathe.” He agreed.

“So, where are we headed now?” She asked, wanting to put the unpleasantness of the previous night behind them.

            Craven took out the book and opened it to the maps. He studied them for a moment while Phoenix read over his arm. “I believe we are here,” he said, pointing to the map. We should head up to this point,” he dragged his finger along the map to a second reference point.

            Phoenix shook her head. “That crosses right through a hot spot,” she objected. “We should find another route. There must be a way around.”

            They looked the map over, both coming to the same conclusion. The only way around the hot spot, allowing them to still reach that particular destination, was to go through the ruins. The decrepit remains of one of the ancient cities destroyed in the nuclear wars. They were often teaming with Molearks, a tribe of cannibalistic mutant madmen and various other beasts that would view them as lunch.

            Any sane individual knew it was wisest to avoid the ruins at all costs, but it would seem that it was their only way through. Craven and Phoenix’s gaze met. They both knew what they had to do. They had not come that far to give up. Molearks or not, they were going through the ruins.