SPLICED

CHAPTER SIX

Satisfied, or at least as much as we can be, we decide together it won't do to dwell. Our farewells are short, because we all know in a way that they have to be. As we leave the cabin, I look back and think how long it might be until we're reunited, but then I think better of it. It won't do to dwell, it never does. In the end, we may never see each other again, but for the time we were trapped in Eden, we can be grateful that we had each other at all.

Our group heads North, along a trail of pine trees, which eventually lead to another road, this one slightly more populated than the one we traveled the day before. As we walk, we are quiet. My thoughts drift to Alex, to what he would have thought of splitting up and I find my heart growing heavy again. By early afternoon we stop to eat what remains of the our rabbit from the morning, and then we set out again. It's aimless wandering, but none of us admits it, out loud. We have to keep moving, even if there is no certain direction.

By nightfall, we are exhausted and sore. The weather is warm enough that we can sleep beneath the stars, but we have little experience with camping and while Gideon manages to build a fire, there is little comfort in the sticks and stones that make up our bed. Margaux, the smallest of our group, is out in minutes and I cover her with a blanket we took from the cabin, before I settle beside Gideon, near the open flames. I try not to think how quiet it is, how small our family has become. Gideon slides his arm around my shoulders and I lay my head against it with a sigh.

"You think they'll be alright?" I ask, quietly, "The others."

"I do... " Gideon starts with a nod, "The dynamics were pretty even, and there's a hunter with each of them. As long as they can manage a camp, keep themselves warm and fed, I don't see why they won't make it to civilization."

"Where do you think we are, anyway?"

"My guess? East coast. Somewhere around Pennsylvania or New York. Could be further south, but the weather doesn't seem warm enough."

"East coast..." I sigh, anchoring my gaze on the fire, "We're so far from home. Not that it matters... doesn't really feel like home anymore, does it?"

"Not really, no. I didn't expect it to, though. I don't think anything will, not for a long while." Gideon shifts, and I draw closer to his side. I know I shouldn't take such comfort in his touch. He isn't Alex, and I know I can't replace one to avoid thinking about the other. But I've spent so long in confinement and he is safe and warm, and I don't just need the solace, I crave it.

"...Do you ever ask yourself, Gid, why it happened to us? Why our bus?"

"I try not to. Doesn't matter, does it? I mean, you start dwelling on that stuff, on the what-ifs, and they'll drive you crazy. Honestly, I think our best bet right now is to just try and move past it all. There are things that we can't change, things we can't control, but we're alive, and we got out. I don't wanna be stuck there, anymore, Char. Not physically, but not in my head, either. I didn't escape, just so they could keep me trapped there mentally."

"You're right." I breathe out, and feel the shift in my mood. It's the first time since we left Eden that I allow myself to really think about what we've done. What it means, to have that freedom, "I never thought it would happen, and I guess I'm just a little afraid to accept it. Like it's not gonna last."

Gideon laughs, softly, and rubs my arm with the palm of his hand, "I think we're all a little afraid, Charlotte. The point isn't being fearless, it's not letting that fear control you. We have a chance to live again, but if we're too scared to take that chance, we might as well have stayed put where we were."

"He always knew. Alex. That we'd get out. I dunno how, but he just... he had this feeling like it wasn't forever, what we were going through."

"He should be here." Gideon says, and I can't mistake the deep sentiment in his voice, the glossy look to his vibrant gaze. I've been selfish, and I know it. The love I had for Alex was certainly different than that of the others, but no more poignant. Reaching out, I gently grip his hand, meeting his eyes. Tears build behind my own, but for once I ride the emotion, unembarrassed.

"I'm so sorry, Gid. I... I didn't stop to think what it meant to you, too. I know he was important to you."

His vision drops and he stares at our hands, twines his fingers through my own, "Alex was like a brother to me, Charlie . But he wasn't half as important to me as you are..."

Curiously, I feel a warmth trail up along my spine, prickling beneath my skin. My face burns and as his eyes twist, flicker to mine I feel my stomach drop. Unconsciously, I know what's coming, but before I can wrap my mind around it, his lips press to mine and all the air is driven from my lungs. I want to tell him to stop. To beg him not to, but my heart and head are at war, and my body seems to have no say. It is brief, so brief that I can barely believe it happened. His cheeks are flushed, and his Adam's apple rises and falls as he swallows, hard.

"I'm sorry." He whispers, his voice trembling, "I know I shouldn't have. I just... I needed to. Just once."

I can't speak. I can barely think. For so long now I never imagined he might be harboring anything akin to these feelings. I had no idea, no reason to assume his devotion was anything more than a show of loyalty for Alex. I don't know what to feel, and it's unnerving, because in my head I'm screaming at him, at myself. Alex's body is barely cold and already I've betrayed his memory.

"...Gid..." My voice is raw, and sharper than I mean for it to be, "I can't."

"I know." He says, and he pulls his hand away from mine. I hate myself for feeling the absence of it, almost immediately, "Please, Charlotte. Forgive me. I didn't... I wasn't thinking."

He rises, brushes himself off and I can see the hurt in his eyes, but he turns away before I can say anything, "I'm going to get us something to eat. Stay put. And we should put another log or two on the fire... keep it going."

He's gone a moment later, and I sit, staring into the orange glow, and I cannot sway the feeling of betrayal, but I also cannot sway the feel of his lips on mine. I despise myself.

After a minute or two I force myself to my feet and add the wood to the fire. I try to sit again, but find the idleness maddening, and so I pace. Back and forth, back and forth across the ground, and I gnaw on my fingernails, shred the cuticles until they bleed.

Gideon is not gone long, and when he returns it is with another rabbit, slung over his shoulder. He looks at me, and his expression is so vacant, it makes my stomach turn. Suddenly, the words I couldn't say come out in a burst, angry and hurt and confused.

"Why didn't you tell me? And why now? How long, Gideon? How long did you feel that way...? Did... did Alex know? Did anyone? Damn it..." I run my fingers through my hair, turn away from him, because I cannot stand the look of shame he gives me.

"Alex didn't know. No one did. Because of Alex. I didn't... I didn't mean for you to find out. Not this way. Not ever. Believe me, I was fine, keeping it a secret. I just... I saw Alex go down yesterday, and I thought it was you, and all of this... It just came to the surface. And you've been so sad, and I hate... I hate seeing you like that, Charlotte. It kills me." His voice breaks and I look back at him. His jaw is tight, and he fights hard, but the tears fall, splashing down his cheeks. I step forward, hesitantly, and then with more speed and standing before him, I reach up to brush the dampness away. His hands crash against my own, capturing them, pulling them away.

"Charlotte. Don't. Please. I can't... I... " He releases me and steps back, "I can't do this to you. Not after everything you've been through. It was selfish, and stupid, and I'm sorry. Listen, let's just... let's forget it, okay? Blame it on the stress." His smile was forced, and in his eyes I see such pain it's almost unbearable, but I can't argue with him. I loved Alex, more than I think I will ever be able to love anyone else, and it's too soon, too fresh. I want to explain myself, but somehow I know it won't help, and in the silence that follows, he moves away to clean the rabbit.