Page 19 of Last Destination

Madman’s hand tilted my chin upward to meet his gaze. His blue eyes reflected a steely gray in the flickers of firelight and the compassion in them held me more captive than his hand.

“My first week in prison, I was thrown into solitary confinement. I was set up to take the fall for another gang leader, who paid a bribe to my least favorite guard to keep me well past what the punishment called for.”

He removed his fingers from my face and shifted his weight until he sat on the ground in front of me, his bulky body boxing me in between the three men. Every one of us remained quiet — even Charlie. Madman never spoke about his time in prison. Most of the time, he barely said anything at all.

“I was claustrophobic. The nuns at our orphanage were cruel and would lock us in closets as penance. This was far worse. The first day, I screamed until my throat lost its voice. The second day, I cried. On the third day, I scratched ridges into the walls until my fingernails were stumps. By day seven, I was a shell, not a man.”

It was hard to see him with how fast I was blinking. I struggled to imagine the man in front of me as anything but rugged and impenetrable, but none of us start out that way, do we? At one point in our lives, we were all innocent.

“How did you overcome that?” My whisper hung in the air between us. His hand rested on my ankle, as if tethering himself to whatever skin he could find. I took comfort in his touch, protective and dominant even in the smallest action. Whatever the reason, his past or his presence, Madman made me feel safe.

One large shoulder shrugged, and I caught the trace of a wince behind his nonchalance. My stomach dropped. Did carrying me hurt him? Had the snake hurt him? Knowing Madman, we wouldn’t know unless he collapsed from the pain. He was too stoic for his own good.

“We do what we must to survive.” His grip on my ankle tightened, breaking my stare to look into the fire. He reached over to the cooling spit with his other hand and pulled off another piece of steaming meat. “We have days to go on our journey, ángel. You must eat.”

He held out the oblong piece to me with a patient, steady hold. Ambrose and Nikki’s stares were lasers into my skin.

I knew the score. I was the one who’d pushed the issue the day before. A week without adequate protein would cause our bodies to break down muscle and tissue. It had already started, affecting my mental state, my energy, and my immune system. We hadn’t survived the worst nature had to offer only to succumb to malnutrition. I couldn’t afford another day without it.

Do you really want to live, Marl?

The question was mine, not Charlie’s. I scanned the five faces in front of me, flickers of flame casting each one in shadow, softening their hunger, their exhaustion, and their pain.

We’d fought through hell to get this far. Bailing on them now was not an option, no matter how much the peaceful quiet of death tempted me. Resolve solidified in my veins, though still resting alongside the fear. But I reached for the meat with trembling fingers, nearly dropping it in my lap when its heat touched my skin.

Before I could scrutinize what was in my palm, I popped it into my mouth, chewing so quickly it burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Swallowing hard to stop from tasting it, I gratefully took the small cup of water from Nikki to wash it down. It sat like a lump in my belly, my stomach cramping on contact.

My eyes clamped shut and I fought the urge to puke. When I opened them, Madman’s extended hand with another chunk of meat waved in front of my face.

“Good. Eat more, ángel. We have to plan our next steps.”

Right. Next steps. My cheeks flushed at how stupid I was being. We were wasting precious time on my fears. I stuffed the piece into my mouth, desperate not to look at it. Nikki and Ambrose did the same with their meals, and the three of us chewed in silence.

Madman stood and ambled to Tessa’s commandeered backpack resting against a tree root on the other side of the fire. The high-pitched metallic zip sounded aggressively modern in the dank night air, capturing all our attention.

The tight skin around my eyes pinched as I squinted to see what he was taking out of the pack. A small, crumpled notebook and a … My lids flew open like snapped rubber bands as I stared at a familiar white, cellophane-wrapped square.

Charlie whistled under her breath, and Nikki’s body went rigid beside me, his fingers digging like nails into the flesh of my thigh. He was as shocked to see the cocaine as I was.

“Madman.” I turned to see Nikki lick his lips, discomfort rolling off him in waves. “May I ask why you have a kilo of blow on you?”

Our prisoner-turned-protector locked his gaze with mine, and a flash of guilt melted into emotionless before I even blinked. “It was insurance for my safe passage.”

His safe passage. So, he had intended to abandon us. It wasn’t a surprise, but hearing it pierced my heart in ways it shouldn’t. For a group with only Ambrose’s spare change, a few watches, and dead cellphones, we had nothing to trade but our bodies. The cocaine was a relief in some ways. I didn’t enjoy life on Earth enough to fight for my life by exchanging my soul.

“Do you think we’ll need it?” Ambrose’s tone didn’t sound accusatory like I’d expected. It held a serious, no-nonsense edge. Less boardroom and more boss, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Yes.”

Of course, a simple, non-explanatory answer.

“What’s the notebook for?”

“It’s the longitude and latitude for the drop-off spot. The runners were grabbing the product from our fuel stop and would bring it there.” Jamie spoke up for the first time in an hour, the crackly voice shifting our attention onto him. “Why did you keep it?”

“Information,” Madman responded, cocking a challenging eyebrow in Jamie’s direction. “To take down the man who put me on that plane. But you are planning a lawsuit now, yes? Now, it is evidence.”

Nikki enthusiastically bobbed his head. A little too enthusiastically. His ringlets bounced hard against the flush of his cheeks.