Chapter 79: Taran

I wake up feeling disoriented and a little sick. I haven't had anything to eat in over a day. I've become used to eating since Diogo took me and forced me to eat regular meals. The thought of my husband brings a lump to my throat. I shake off the feeling and sit up, pushing a blanket away. It had been tucked tightly around me. Weird, I don't remember covering up after going to bed.
I don't hear anything. No movement, no sign of my captor. I creep through the door, making my way downstairs on silent feet. I'm not afraid of him discovering me wandering around the house. Far from it since he knows exactly where to find me. But something about the silent still morning has me moving cautiously.
Last night, after Talon punched the pillow next to me, he left the room, slamming the door shut. I'd stayed in that room for several hours, not wanting to prod the beast with my presence. I didn't needed to worry though. When I finally left the room, my growling belly and parched throat forcing me out, he wasn't there. He stayed away all night. If the car hadn't been parked in front of the house I would've worried that he'd abandoned me there to die. He must've spent the entire night outside somewhere.
As I creep down the stairs I smell something different. Smoke. I peek around the corner and spot a wood-burning stove, smoking away, filling the room with the pleasant scent of fire. I step off the bottom step and into the room, looking around curiously. A skinned rabbit sits on the counter near the stove. My belly rumbles in gratitude that Talon is talented enough to catch such a creature.
Though certainly wary of my captor after his near-rape of me last night, I'm not as frightened as I maybe should be. I got the feeling rape isn't something he's ever resorted to. He tried to scare me and control me through physical violence. And, while I'm definitely not fond of him, his attack had the opposite effect. Or rather, the fact that he stopped.
He's determined to prove how bad he is, how little he cares about his fellow humans, but I sense something different than what he projects, a deep need to connect. Something inside him wants to reach out and feel what it's like to live an existence free of the constant spectre of death. Unfortunately, that's not an option, not since the Great Fall. But if he wanted to, he could find a place in society, integrate himself and his talents into a Sanctuary community. Much the same way Diogo's men are accepted, their violent and extreme tendencies turned towards making themselves productive members of the community.
I'm not going to try to convince him though. I don't want a repeat of the last night. Instead I'll show him how helpful I can be, show him my human nurturing side as often as I can, as subtle as I can. Maybe gain his trust before we arrive at our destination. At the very least I'm going to make it hard for him to sell me.
I look around the kitchen, going through cupboards, searching. I find all the ingredients I need to make a batch of basic biscuits to go with the cooked rabbit meat. Everything looks fresh enough, confirming my belief that Talon comes back to this place often. It's like his escape when he needs to call a place home, or the life of a nomad gets too lonely. Maybe being close to his family home gives him comfort.
A scraping sound near the doorway has me turning on the spot. I open my mouth to ask Talon where I can find a baking pan. The words freeze in my throat. Instead of the giant Outsider, a stooped, starved looking Primitive fills the doorway. I resist the urge to scream or run. It's facing away from me, slowly shuffling on the spot. It must've been attracted by the smoke. For some stupid reason I hadn't believed there would be any in the area. Not after seeing all those dead Primitives up on the hill.
I back slowly toward the stairs, my intent to run up them and lock myself in a room if I can. As far as I know, Primitives react completely off instinct. No logic, no ability to work through a problem. The memories of their human lives seem to have died. If I can somehow disappear from his sight, he might move on. If he's not part of a horde I might actually stand a chance, though he's still extremely dangerous on his own.
I don't quite make it to the stairway when my shoe catches on a loose board. It lifts and thumps back down, a sharp cracking sound echoing through the room. I look up in terror as the Primitive spins in the doorway facing me, its hands curling into claws, digging into the dark skin of its palms. I stand frozen, doing my best to hold my breath as it sniffs the air. A man, I think. An elderly man, which maybe explains why it's not in great shape. His head is bald, the signature dark splotches from the necrosis, the skin rot, creeping up his neck and over his head. A giant railroad spike is embedded in the socket where his eye used to be and the other is milky blue. I doubt he can actually see, which is probably how he lost his horde. The stench of decomposition is nearly overwhelming as it permeates the room. I try not to gag as a wave of dizziness hits me.
I try to comfort myself with the reminder that a bite probably won't turn me. Though he can certainly kill me another way. Primitives are strong enough to crush a person's bones into nothing but splinters. If he gets his hands on me, I'm most likely dead, despite my apparent immunity to the bite.
He tenses, his lower jaw dropping. He pulls his lips back and pushes his teeth out, preparing to bite. Oh god, I need to run and hide. But if I run I'll draw his attention for sure. He brings his hands up in an attack position and I watch mesmerized as he launches himself forward. I stumble back, slamming into the wall behind me. I prepare to spin around and run up the stairs, when the Primitive is snatched from behind, yanked backward into the chest of a huge man, a beefy arm around his neck.
Talon brings his knife up and cuts the Primitive's neck, severing his head in one stroke. I jump, my hands pressed against the wall behind me as the head hits the ground and bounces under the table. Talon wipes his blade on the Primitive's shirt and then shoves the body to the floor where it hits with an audible thump.
Talon's eyes hold mine as he sheathes the knife.
He strides toward the oven, grunting, "I'm hungry."
We eat and then head out, Talon driving the car out of the homestead without a backward glance. We drive all day, stopping once for fuel, filling the tank and the reserves in the back of the car. Talon explains that stopping in a town is a dangerous prospect, and at the station he makes me pump the gas while he covers us, but we don't run into any problems.
The town has an eerie abandoned feel to it, the only movement a flock of birds flying low over the ruined buildings as we disturb their nesting spot for a few minutes. I hold the strange looking pump in my hands, pressing the handle the way Talon had explained. I jolt as I feel a gush of liquid pass through the line and into the car, but I continue to hold steady. I fill until something clicks and then stops.
After we fill the reserve canisters, Talon pushes me back into the car, slides into the driver seat and gets out the town as fast as we entered it. I can tell from the tension in his shoulders that fuelling isn't his favourite thing to do. I wonder if he's ever been attacked in a town before and that's why he's so leery.
We drive through the night, me dosing fitfully in the passenger side. I wake slowly to Talon's voice. "We're here."
My eyes pop open and I sit up abruptly, reaching for the window frame and gripping it tightly. The light of sunrise shines bright in my eyes, forcing me to squint and lift a hand. I glance over at Talon and he nods ahead of us and to the right. My gaze drifts across the horizon. The sun is slowly rising over a city, lighting it up as though on fire.