Wastelands: A Broken World

CHAPTER 9: A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL

Frustrated and with the anger bristling again, I gritted my teeth, steeling myself for the agony to come as I used my hands to push myself up onto my elbows. I shifted my body until I was half-sitting up, with my shoulders resting against the wall behind me. The whole action was laboriously slow and by the time I'd stopped, the sweat was sticking the clothes to my back and running down my forehead. The pain was incandescent now, a fire raging through me and I was panting, my mouth dry, my tongue thick. I eyed the water bottle by his side.

I wasn't going to get out of here without the Grey's help, that much I knew. My body was literally screaming at me and I could do nothing but glare at him, as if a glare could inflict all the pain and suffering that I wished I could force him to feel. I felt helpless. I was helpless.

The tears came unbidden, unwanted and I felt one traitorous drop spill over and trickle down my cheek.

Fuck him. Fuck this.

'Would you like some more water?'

There was something in his tone then, even a glint in his eyes maybe, that felt like he was toying with me, knowing full well what I wanted and that I would need to ask him for it.

I swallowed, feeling the burn of my thirst and anger scald my throat as I nodded, not wanting to look at him as he crept forward with the bottle in his hand. I didn't want to look him in the eyes where he could see my tears so clearly, but I couldn't look away as he neared. There was not one inch of him that didn't look like Tom. Not one detail wrong. He was a perfect clone. Too perfect.

Reaching out, he handed me the bottle. My hand trembled as I took it from him, ensuring to grab the neck of the bottle and not where his hand was. I didn't want to touch him again. I didn't want to touch his fingers as I knew it would only make me think of how his hand had covered mine when holding the gun and what it had felt like to feel Tom against me again.

I raised it to my lips, not daring to take my eyes off him. He was close. Too close.

As if reading my mind, the creature moved back to where he had been, this time, sitting down so his back was against the shelf behind him. He still held the gun between his knees, but now it was pointing at the floor, instead of at me.

'I'm... I'm not going to hurt you, you know,' he said, his voice taking on a gentler tone that made my chest ache to hear it, because it was too much like Tom and yet not Tom.

'And yet, you have my gun,' I said, relishing the water as I drank, wetting my mouth and tongue with it, before swallowing down. The act of drinking water was such a simple one, and yet, with the world now in ruins, every drop of water consumed felt somehow like a luxury.

'I'm not going to shoot you, Evie.'

Say my name again. No, don't say it, it hurts too much.

'I just don't want you to shoot me.'

I could have told him that I wouldn't shoot him, but we both knew it would be a lie. I'd come close to it out in the entrance hall. I'd thought about pulling the trigger and ending it once and for all. Revenge had burned deep, but not deeper than the need to keep seeing his face, just for a little longer.

Shame brought heat to my cheeks then, and finally, I looked away, taking a bigger gulp of water so I wouldn't have to talk to him until I was sure I could steady the shake in my voice.

'I wouldn't blame you, you know,' he said, rubbing his thumb over the handgrip of the gun. 'I understand... your anger.'

I looked sharply at him, the jerk of my head costing me as the pain thundered down one side of my face, ricocheting through my already-pounding skull.