Darker Shade of Pale - HER FREEDOM (12 page)

Chapter Twenty Three

Fire engulfed the hill where Tyb's home once stood. The sound of everything cracking as it burnt filled the sky like smoke. We stood in the meadow so we could see the house off in the distance. Our guns, slung over our shoulders. We stood in awe of repeated blasts rocked the forest, the shockwave for each rapport trembling the earth.

"
Fuuuuuuck. I forgot about the dynamite." Arms were at his side, his face impassive.

"What?" We stood outside, watching flames swallow and shatter and smoke.

"Left over from building… there were some huge boulders I had to remove to lay foundation. They…well, if the C-4 didn't do him in…" His voice trailed off and I bet he was thinking of his little sister. I know I was.

My suspicions were confirmed when
Tyb fell to his knees and his eyes brimmed with tears. The firelight glistened with the yet-unshed emotion. The man who has always seemed so strong to me, so assured and competent, now reduced to a man shattered by tragedy. He wanted nothing more than to save his sister from Christos Haytham. Now she died with Christos Haytham. She died because she felt bad for Selesta
, me
. Dammit. This isn't how life is supposed to be. Happy endings, how passé are they nowadays? I felt nothing for Christos other than relief. "Dammit, Tyb. I am so sorry."

I sat down beside him and wrapped him in my arms. Felt him shaking and shuddering with emotion.

"She ran away once, she ran away twice. But now she'll never come back." Tyb's voice was more steady that my own.

"She loved you. She protected you from him. She is so very brave." The bravest person I know.

"I should have protected her. Science could have saved her…"

"Or she could have attacked us when her implant completely fails. That was a possibility. Nothing will make you feel better,
Tyb, except for time. I wish I could say something that would make everything make sense. I don't have that super power."

He drew a deep breath, and with a focus I envied, seemed to center himself and find his calm. "We survived the zompires apocalypse. Want to know the dream?"

Distraction from his pain. I could respect that. "Please."

"I dreamed the house was in flames. It's why I put the IDs in the panic room.
Fire and death. I didn't know it was going to be Aisha. I thought it was going to be me… Never Aisha. Not until she put that chunk of C-4 in my hand." Tyb turned his face to mine and my heart crumbled with the anguish evident, etched deep in his eyes. "You're free, Izzy. You can leave Selesta to rest in peace, or you can resurrect her. Could cash in on whatever is left of Haytham's estate, live a very comfortable life. Do whatever you want."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I really don't want to leave the mountain, not if it means I never see you again. I agree
, my family needs to see me and know I'm fine… but I…" I didn't know how to continue without revealing too much of myself and face rejection. "I hope our paths cross again, Tyb. Soon."

Tyb
reached out and covered my hand with his own, then gave a gentle squeeze. "The future is not writ in stone. And if it were, time would erase it away." He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead with cool lips.

I couldn't hold the tears in anymore. Everything crashed around me, the sense of aimlessly adrift in life.
And death. Goddamn, the death.

"I love you
Tyb."

"Not as much as I love you. I love you enough that I know I need to let you go." He stood up and began walking back to the treehouse.

I sat in the meadow, now awash with morning sunlight streaming through copious smoke, weeping. It shouldn't be a surprise, he told me time and again not to love him, not to care. He never led me on. The hurt I feel in regards to the prospect I nurtured of Tyb and I together, it'd pass, eventually. He taught me a great many things I needed to know.

I heard sounds of scratching from the far side of the treehouse. I got up to investigate, lifting my
teeshirt hem up to blot my eyes. As I walked around the other side of the cement fortress, I saw something horrible. A naked body, most of the flesh burnt off, one arm and a part of the chest cavity missing. Gore hung like old lace. His back faced me, and I could see him convulsing, revealing what was left of his face and what was causing the jerking.

Christos
.
 Missing his lower jaw.

He had
Tyb in a chokehold with his one arm, while Tyb tried throwing him off balance.

Christos
spoke, but it sounded "Sthand sthill, dan you! Thith will only thake a moment."

Tyb
fought, but it seemed that Christos never tired of the wrestling. With his attention focused on Tyb, he didn't notice me creeping up behind him, my rifle at the ready, finger caressing the trigger. Oh, if he fucking hurts Tyb…

My barrel was six inches away from the back of
Christos's skull when Tyb played dead weight and was dropped. As soon as Tyb's head was out of the way, I fired. When Tyb heard the first shot, he rolled out of the way.

Semi-Automatic.
Every time I pulled the trigger, another round made its way to visit the wonderland of Christos's Synapses. I emptied my clip into my undead ex-husband, until there was nothing left of his head but a bloody stump.

His carcass fell to the ground.

I dropped the rifle and plopped onto my knees. Fuck. I just kill, er, rekilled someone. Head shot, just like Tyb said.

"You okay, Izzy?" His arms wrapped around me and I buried my face in the crook of his neck. This man is my happy place.

"Yeah. I think I am."

The sound of quads filled the mountain air.
At the lead, Mara. Everyone parked in the middle of the meadow and I couldn't help thinking, there goes the harvest this year.

"What happened?" She vaulted off the quad and bounded toward us. She stopped short when she saw what was left of
Haytham. Her eyes widened and took in Tyb and I. Peeling myself away from him, I asked, "Is blood as contagious as the saliva?" I needed to know, now that I was covered in Christos's A positive.

"No, just the saliva.
The enzymes which break up carbs is what triggers the whole chain reaction."

I breathed a massive sigh of relief.

Mara's comrades surrounded us and she spoke. "We need to get you guys out of here for decontamination and debriefing." Two officers lead Tyb and I in different directions, asking questions regarding what happened.

It was the last time I saw
Tyb.

Epilogue

Mara
said my contact would meet me at the bar on Mill Avenue.

Tempe is not my first choice when it comes to selecting a place for relocation. But monsoon season was upon us, and that helped make the Arizona heat a bit more bearable.

The bar was fairly non-descript. A couple bull's-eyes for darts hung on a well-perforated wall. Smoke from cigarettes hung in the air while I nursed a rum and coke.

Mara
. She called one day, out of the blue. Asked if I had time to help her with a project. With life being boring at the moment, her offer was the spice I needed. My contact would be a male going by the name of Iain St. Cloud.

This wasn't the first time I helped her.
Been three years since I left the mountain. About six months after my relocation, Mara asked if I could pick up a package for her from a locker. No prob. I also listened to an offer made by another contact and relayed it back to her. I placed bugs in restaurants known to be frequented by Russian mafia. Shits and giggles.

I love working for the University of Arizona's library. Not head librarian, but I'm damn good at research. But research
amidst books can be dull after a while.

Selesta
stayed dead. I visited my parents and let them know the whole story—well, not all the Tyb parts. I am Izabeau D'Beafort, now. Single as the day is long. My cat and I share an apartment. I named her Aisha.

I sat in a back booth, positioned so I could see who comes through the bar's door. He's supposed to be here by eight-thirty. If not by nine, I'm supposed to leave.
Can do. Listen to his offer and report back. In the meanwhile, enjoy my time with Captain Morgan.

At eight-
forty-five, a tall man carrying a briefcase strode through the glass door and looked around. Couldn't see his face under the cowboy hat—and Arizona has a lot of cowboy hat-wearing folks. His head turned my way, and he walked over. Jeans and a black tee-shirt covered his frame.

"
Izabeau?"

I nodded my head.

His voice was deep, tingle-inducing. "A Ms. Malone is an acquaintance of yours, correct?"

"That is correct." The dim bar made it hard to make out the contours of the man's face. "Will you join me?"

"Don't mind if I do." He laid the briefcase on the table and sat opposite me. Didn't take off the hat, just kept it tilted down, shielding his face.

"Ms. Malone said you had an offer to make…?"

"Yes. This offer is for you."

"Me?" This isn't how it's supposed to work. He makes offer, I relay message. That is all.

"Yes, you."

"May I see your face? I like to know who I'm talking to."

"Certainly." He doffed his hat and my jaw dropped.

"
Tyb?"

He smiled at me.
"Hi you."

"Why the act?"

"Didn't know how you felt about me."

I still fucking love him. Lay awake at night and relive the memories of being alone with him, secluded from the world in a paradise of his own creation.

"I don't have any negative feelings, if that's what you're asking." But now I'm way confused.

"Are… are you seeing anyone?"

I smiled, blown away by this strange quirk of life. "Nope."

"Me either."

"So did you really have an offer, or was this an elaborate set up just to have drinks and catch up?"

"There's an offer I wanted to make you."

He opened up the briefcase and showed me the contents. "You forgot this when you left."

Hundred dollar bills in tidy stacks, banded together with a very official strip of paper.
"What? I don't understand."

"From the gold.
This was your cut."

"Wow. I don't know what to say. Thank you. You don't need to, though."

"I know. But for three years I've sat on it. I want you to have it."

"What happened to your homestead?"

"I had to move, per big brother."

"That sucks. I loved it up there."

"So did I. Now I'm in Yuma. Got a business going."

"Oh, do tell." I was curious how
Tyb reconciled his wilderness man to city living.

"I run a farming-coop and live in a modified
earthship. I was uh, wondering if you were considering a change in career. I could use a partner."

"I don't know anything about running a business,
Tyb."

"The position I had in mind was more of the girlfriend kind." His eyes looked upon me, expectantly.

My heart swelled. He was right, that dawn three years ago. Nothing is writ in stone that time cannot change. "I think I would like that."

About the Author

Mandi
Rei Serra

Raised in Northern California as a middle child (and only girl) she devoured books as soon as she could heft them from the book shelf.
 
Been all over the western half of the United States, absorbing knowledge from the little enclaves of culture. It's amazing what 50 miles can do to change the mindset of people. Amazing.
Now a thirty-something geek penning homage to all sorts of nifty things and raising two minions to do my bidding.
Anthropology, History, Geology, Theology, Psychology and weird stuff garner my interest pretty quickly. Quirkier, the better.

Mandi Rei’s website and blog, because different strokes for different folks: 
www.MandiReiSerra.com
and
www.MandiReiSerra.blogspot.com
  and for the
Tweeps,
www.twitter.com/MandiReiSerra

Mandi Rei Serra’s erotica-writing alter ego: Alana Twincannon’s blog for updates and saucy snippets:
www.tawdryerotica.blogspot.com
  and on Twitter @
AlanaTwincannon

OTHER WORK AVAILABLE ON KINDLE

A Toast to Starry Nights
/
romance|dark humor|psychology|past lives|sarcasm|Ireland|sex|ex boyfriends|cannabis in California Mountains/

Darker Shade of Pale – HER ESCAPE
/romance, domestic abuse, science/