“Man, you know I have no choice in this.”
“No!” Finlay shook his head wildly like a child on the brink of a tantrum before he broke down in tears. “Please, no. I canna be chaint.”
His face reddened and contorted, and transparent snot flowed freely from his nose, collecting in his wiry stubble. Einar leaned forward and wiped it away with the rag before stuffing it in a spare plastic bag in the back of the car.
“Let’s make sure nobody but me touches that,” he said in a low voice to us.
I bit my tongue and the inside of my cheek. Blood flooded my mouth, and I swallowed it, feeling instantly nauseated. It was no use, not with Laura sobbing like that, not when tears like pearls glistened in the dark on Russell’s cheeks. Not when I looked into Einar’s tortured face.
“I’m sorry.”
Einar cut the rope binding Finlay’s legs, then dragged him out of the car with no little effort, since Finlay was a large, strong man himself and resisted valiantly.
“I will free you as soon as it’s clear you’re not going to turn, you have my word,” Einar raised his voice sharply.
“Well, and what if I start turning?” Finlay’s voice was an octave higher than usual. “Ye’ll shoot me, then, I know ye will! Ye’ll shoot me like a dog!”
Losing his nerve at last, Einar slammed his captive hard against the car.
“And what else would you have me do, eh?” he yelled, bearing down on Finlay. “Would it be better to watch one of my best mates turn into a creature that’s an insult to everything he ever was?! Would you prefer I let you become one of them?”
I volunteered to obtain the necessary supplies for Finlay to grant Einar some time alone in our cottage in the meantime. Finlay was chained to a radiator in one of the erstwhile hotel rooms, and he glowered accusingly at me as I surrounded him with snacks, extra blankets, rolls of toilet paper, and a bucket.
I was hard on my feet and didn’t see how I could procrastinate my return home any longer, but still I opened and shut the main door as quietly as I could have, determined to sneak back out if I heard Einar weep. I knew he wouldn’t want me to see him cry.
But all was quiet, and I found him sitting on the bed, face buried in his hands, chest expanding and constricting rhythmically in deep, powerful breaths. He had taken his shirt off, and I noted rather detachedly that his stomach was leaner and more sculpted than when I first saw him, muscles of his abdomen bulging tightly in neat rows, vaguely resembling a pack of bread rolls. I was shivering even in my jacket, but as an Icelander Einar seemed as impervious to cold as ever. He was motionless in the sparse candlelight and gave no indication of being aware of my presence.
I hesitated, then approached him wordlessly, wanting to put my arms around him.
“No!” Large hands snatched mine on their way, and I yelped.
He lifted his head to look at me. This way, there was a smaller difference in our heights than when he stood, and our faces were almost level. He stared at me intently, his eyes dry but full of shadows.
“Don’t touch me like this, Ren.” He let go of my hands and apologetically patted my hip. “In situations like these, let me come to you first, aye?”
I nodded wordlessly.
“You never know how you’ll react when faced with death,” he spoke slowly like reciting a poem. “For me, when I was first bitten, there was no emotion involved at all. I chained myself. Nobody had to make me do it. I didn’t want to die, and I certainly didn’t want to turn into a fury ... but I disassociated and only focused on what had to be done.” He shook his head, his mouth but a tight line. “I don’t know why I assumed it would be the same with everyone.”
“It washorrible.” I barely contained the sob, threatening to escape me.
It wasn’t lost on Einar, though, and he finally extended his arms to embrace me, and I practically lunged onto him. He bore the impact stoically, squeezing me tight. He unzipped my jacket to settle his head onto the bulge of my breasts with a moan. I buried my face in his hair, not minding that it was still damp.
“Finlay and I have been friends for over ten years. We graduated together. I was the best man at his wedding, and then I was there when he got divorced. I introduced him to Laura ... that is all to say, I wasn’t sure I could do it. Drag him, bind him ... but then I did. I had to. And after that, I had this terrifying thought ...”
I felt a shiver run through him.
“What thought?”
“What if it was you? What if you got bitten? I couldn’t do it then.”
“I wouldn’t make you, I don’t think,” I whispered into the golden crown of his head.
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t. Not you, brave in your indifference. You likely would have volunteered to be shot preventatively without as much as a shrug.”
While speaking, he pulled up my shirt and planted little cold, wet kisses on my stomach and my breasts. They made me think vaguely of tiny fish in a bright aquarium. There was nothing sexual about his caresses.
“But me? I couldn’t kill you or let you be killed. I would have begged and cried for you, and I would have stolen a car to take you away. I would have hurt anyone who’d try to get to you. I would have broken bones and cut throats, I would have murdered everyone here,every single person, just to keep you with me, Ren. And then, even if you turned and you were no longer you, I still couldn’t part with you. Instead, I would let you tear me apart. Tear the heart out of my chest.”
