Kelly Gay - The Hour of Dust and Ashes

“Take them off, I don’t care,” I said. Modesty didn’t factor at that point. Neither did romance. We were battered and bruised, sweaty and ripe. And Hank had seen most of me before anyway, just recently after my visit with Nivian and then Emain. “This is becoming a habit,” I mumbled as he removed my pants and I tensed in pain.

He chuckled softly. “No doubt. And a bad one at that. God forbid I ever get to do this when you’re not wounded or half dead …”

I smiled.

Hank removed my belt, my sidearm, and then my pants, which I stepped out of very carefully while holding on to both of his shoulders.

He straightened, eyeing me with concern. “Can you manage lifting your arms?”

I winced, knowing it would hurt like hell. “Not really. But my jacket and shirt are full of sand. It’s even in my armpits. Let’s get it over with so we can catch up to Rex and Bryn.”

He smiled.

“Brave girl.”

“If you say so.”

Carefully Hank peeled off my jacket, my weapons harness, and then waited as I sucked in a readying breath, gritted my teeth, and lifted my arms. He made quick work of my shirt. Sweat was rolling off me, tears streamed down my face, and I was shaking. My arms fell limp at my sides, the action causing even more pain.

Hank leaned down and rolled his pants legs up and then held out his hand.

And I froze.

The way he stood there … hair wet, a busted lip, his cheek scraped raw, a bruise shadowing beneath his eyes, yet strength and power still radiated from him … And holding his hand out to me. The image seemed suspended as though my brain decided to pause and take a snapshot.

Then it was over almost as soon as it began. My chest ached and I wasn’t all that sure it was because of my wounds. Feeling exhausted and foggy, I slid my hand into his. His fingers closed around mine, warm and strong, feeding me some of his healing power, though I knew he had very little left.

Once my foot hit the cool water, I sighed. The cold wrapped around my skin, easing the burn of scrapes and hurts. Hank walked me to a ledge where I could hold on while going deeper into the pool, then he left me alone so I could soak in the water and rub the grit, sweat, blood, and sand from my body. Bra and underwear were completely soakedthrough, but I didn’t care.

Feeling better, I headed for the water coming in from the rock crevice, cupped my hands, and brought water to my lips. It was heaven.

After I drank my fill I turned. Brim had finally gotten to his feet and Hank was shaking out my clothing and had our weapons set out in a line on one of the rocks. No doubt having cleaned them of sand the best he could.

I guessed if I was going to be stranded in a hot desert world, he wasn’t a bad guy to have on my side.

Brim walked into the water as I walked out. I patted his head and approached my clothes. Hank kept his eyes averted and worked on brushing sand from his thigh harness and then strapped it back on. He had his socks and shoes back on, too.

I dressed as quickly as I could and had more of an issue with the smell of my clothes and the blood than I did with the pain of getting back into them.

“If we keep walking beneath this ridge, we should be going parallel with our original track. Rex said to head east.”

I grabbed my belt. “Thanks.”

He glanced up, his hands still around his thigh.

“For the …” I threw a hand toward the water.

A smile that he tried to suppress drew across his lips and he shook his head. “Anytime, Madigan.”

“So how good are you at directions?” I asked, easing into my shoulder harness.

“Compass.” He held up a dagger that I hadn’t seen him take from the station. It had a nice little sheath along with the firearm at his thigh. The end of it contained a dome.

“We’re not exactly home,” I pointed out.

“All three worlds have poles, different ones, sure, but this has a compass for each of them. See?” He turned a small lever and the dome rolled to reveal another one.

“Okay, survivor man, I’m impressed. You ready to go?”

He shoved the dagger into the sheath and grabbed his jacket. “We’ll just make sure we’re on an easterly track. The ruins hopefully won’t be hard to miss.”

Despite the dim light, I didn’t miss his look. It was iffy at best. We were out in the sand flats without our guide, neither one of us having been here before. Separated from my little sister … Another snapshot rose up in front of me.

Bryn as a kid, sitting on the living room floor in her nightgown watching Saturday morning cartoons, her stuffed turtle in her lap—Turdy.

What started out as “Turty” had quickly become “Turdy” … Connor and I always had a good laugh about that. My heart constricted with the memory of my brother.

And Bryn.

Seeing her as a cold-blooded murderer, blood on her hands. It was a sight I’d never forget.

“You know it wasn’t Bryn,” Hank said.

height="0em" width="1em">“She doesn’t deserve this, Hank. On top of everything else … it’s too much.”

“You’d be surprised at what people can handle, Charlie. Look at you. All that’s happened … and yet you continue on. You’re one of the strongest people I have ever met here or in Elysia. And Bryn is cut from the same cloth. She’ll get through this, too.”

I nodded and wiped at the corner of one eye, watching Brim walk from the pool and then shake his big body. Water and slobber went flying in all directions. “You gonna tell me what those sirens were doing at the gate?”

For a second, I didn’t think he’d answer.

“Well, I’d guess they were there to take me home.”

“Back to Elysia? Why?”

He shrugged and picked up another pebble from the ledge, turning it over in his hands. He threw it into the water. “Because I am a traitor.”

“What?” I turned to face him. “What do you mean, traitor?”

No. Maybe I wasn’t conscious yet. Maybe I was still out cold and healing and this was just some weird-ass dream. I snorted a laugh and pinched the bridge of my nose, then rubbed a hand down my face, avoiding the tender spots.

“I don’t … understand,” I finally managed. How the hell could Hank be a traitor? There was no way in hell. I knew him. “Hank, you’re no traitor. Even I kn—”

“No, you don’t know, Charlie.” He whistled for Brim, turned, and strode off with parting words. “You don’t know anything about me.”

Alessandra’s words came back to haunt me then. You never truly know another, what they’re capable of.

Did I ever think Will was capable of leading a double life? No. I also didn’t think the same of Hank. But maybe he was right. I didn’t know a damn thing about his past or why he’d come to Atlanta.

I finished arming myself, then grabbed my jacket and limped off after him, ignoring the soreness and the pain, determined that my instincts were right this time. “I know enough,” I said, catching up to him. “You’re not a traitor, Hank.” I grabbed his arm. “And if someone thinks you are, then they don’t know you like I do.”

My touch drew him to a stop. He stared into the blackness ahead of us. I watched Brim for a few seconds and then asked, “Will we have another fight on our hands when we get back?”

That seemed to knock him out of his thoughts. “You’d fight?”

“Yes,” I answered, confounded that he’d think otherwise.

“Not knowing the circumstances? Even if I was a traitor, a fugitive?”

“You’ve fought for Emma, for me, and now for Bryn … Ofrse I’d fight. Look, whatever happened … I bet you had a damn good reason for what you did or whatever those sirens think you did.” I paused. “Why do they think you’re a traitor?”