Lost Highway (10 page)

Odessa

T
he people in the other cabin
pack up their cars. They hug each other and allow the dog one final run around
the grass before having him jump in the back of a truck. I watch them say
goodbye and head back to their lives outside the woods.

“I guess their vacation is
over,” I tell Quill, who sulks on the porch. “I wonder if they’re happy to go,
or if they wish to remain there longer.”

“Who cares?”

“They’re us,” I say, watching
the cars disappear into their woods and leave the cabin abandoned until the
next vacationers arrive.

Quill feels defeated. While the
sex provides him relief from the desire he loathes, my touch will never return
him to the emotionless man he prefers.

“We can be happy here, or we
can hope to return to our old lives,” I explain while sitting next to him on
the wooden bench.

“We can’t return.”

“You don’t know that. It
doesn’t matter. I’ve found peace here.”

“You had sex. Apparently,
that’s all it takes to fix your problems.”

“I had plenty of sex before
you, and I wasn’t fixed. So either this place is magical and healed me, or you
have a mighty powerful penis.”

Quill gives me a side-glance
and considers smiling. His bad mood wins, and we sit in silence for a long
time.

“I wonder if we’re dead, and
this is a kind of purgatory,” I say, thinking of the people from the other
cabin again.

“I’m not dead.”

“Think about it. We both had
near death experiences before we arrived here. Maybe we only thought we
survived.”

When Quill says nothing, I
continue, “John strangled me, and I died while imagining killing him. I’d
always wondered about this place and sought out information about it. Then in
death, I came here. Now I’m trapped until I die and go to wherever dead people
go after they die again.”

“I’m not dead.”

“You said Chance thought he killed
you.”

“I’m not dead.”

“Okay,” I say when he won’t
budge. “In the end, it doesn’t matter if we died or not. We’re here now until
we die. Well unless we’re here until we need to find peace from our lifetime
struggles. In that case, I might be gone soon.”

Quill frowns at me. Perhaps,
he’s bothered by the thought of me leaving.

“Wouldn’t you remember dying?”
he asks.

“I remember thinking I was
dying, and I killed John right afterward. Isn’t it possible I did die, and the
experience of killing him was only my mind’s final electrical responses?”

“How did you drive here if
you’re dead?”

“I don’t know. Maybe dead
people drive to their fates.” When Quill gives me an odd look, I can’t help
laughing. “Americans do love their cars.”

“If I’m dead, what’s the point?”

“What’s the point if you’re
alive?”

“The point is to stay alive. If
I’m already dead, I have no purpose.”

I realize I’ve talked him into
another somber moment, so I rest my head against his arm. “I never belonged
anywhere because I wouldn’t let myself. I feel like I belong here. Even if I
die soon, I found my home here with you.”

Quill rolls his eyes at my
comment. “You keep talking about dying. That’s why you’re a Death Dealer even
if you can’t save yourself.”

“You could take me hunting and
teach me. I’m a good student.”

“I don’t want to teach you.”

“Because it would take time
away from you sulking?”

Quill makes a weird, growling
sound. I know he’s angry and wants to intimidate me, but he makes the same
noise when he has an orgasm. My mind is now on him naked, and he must realize
this fact because he shakes his head.

Taking my hand in his, Quill
studies it. “How can someone with a hand so small survive this place?”

“The first step is finding a
big strong man to do the heavy lifting. Step two is to seduce him. The final
step is to sit back and reap the rewards.”

I look up and find Quill
grinning. Straddling him, I smile at his now annoyed face. “You smiled. You
can’t take that back.”

Quill looks at the slip of
space between our bodies and then back at me. “You do this on purpose.”

“Yes, it’s part of the
seduction step. I could give you a quick handjob if the sex is simply too
unbearable for you.”

Quill grits his teeth and
stands up with me in his arms. “You’re becoming obnoxious.”

“We all have skills. Yours is
killing. Mine is making you come apart. Just be happy my skill isn’t something
stupid like twirling batons.”

Kicking the front door shut
with his foot, Quill carries me to the back room where he dumps me on the bed.
He yanks off his shirt, making clear a simple handjob won’t do. I remove my
shirt too and then reach for him. Before my fingers can discover his rough
chest hairs, he grabs the chains. Our gazes meet, and I know what he knows.

The beast inside him won’t be
denied, and sex isn’t the only thing on its mind.

Quill

O
dessa wants to learn to hunt so
she can help me clear the traps. I only agree because I lack the will to say
no. She holds all of the power now.

A simple look from Odessa sends
me into animal arousal. With such control over me, she calls the shots, but
soon I’ll rid myself of her and the gnawing desire inside me.

The machete looks too big for
her small hands. She uses both of them to hold it. I watch her swing the weapon
in smooth motions. She practices attacking threats by chopping into the trees
near the cabin.

“Can I learn to shoot too?” she
asks.

“Bullets are a rare commodity
in the Lost Highway. I can’t waste any on teaching you.”

Odessa glances back at me over
her shoulder and smiles in a way I feel down to my toes. She’s under my skin
like a parasite, stealing my strength and common sense.

“Don’t sulk,” she teases before
returning to hacking at the tree.

“With Death Dealers, you can
only kill them with head wounds or by removing the heart. Other wounds will heal.”

“Like my leg wound did. You
knew I didn’t need the bandage that day after you put me in the coffin. You
still wrapped my leg to make me feel better.”

“The human mind needs a lot of
reassurance.”

Odessa studies me with her pale
eyes, and I am already thinking of her on top of me in the bedroom. When she
smiles again, I imagine her lips wrapped around my cock. All we do now is rut
in bed. I can’t shake the need, and Odessa meets my hunger with her own
insatiable desire.

“I’m almost done cleaning the
second wall,” Odessa says, swinging around to chop the tree. “I’ll probably run
out of cleaning supplies before I finish the room.”

“I don’t know if I can find
more.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s busy
work to keep my mind from going Lost Highway bonkers.”

My mind isn’t as sharp as
before I made the mistake of saving Odessa. If I could return to that day, I
would leave her in the trap for the other Death Dealers. More than once, I’ve
wondered if ending her life might free me from this weakness.

The problem is the longer I
think of Odessa, the more my body aches for her. Once my cock is hard, we end
up in bed until I can barely move.

“When will you take me
hunting?” she asks as I lead her into the house.

“Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I think the secret to staying sane
here is to keep busy. Boredom turns the mind to mush.”

My hand removes the machete
from her grip while I hurry her down the hallway. “We’ll hunt in the morning.”

Odessa smiles at where we’re
heading. She finds nothing wrong with spending hours fucking like animals. No
doubt she thinks sex helps her mind remain sharp. Of course, she isn’t the one
chained to the bed.

Her voice is tender when we’re
in the bedroom. She tells me how strong I am. She wants me to own her. She promises
I’m the only one she sees.

I know these words are supposed
to mean something. In bed, they do matter. Once we’re dressed, my mind no
longer remembers why I should care.

Admittedly, I sometimes like
the way her fingers feel on my arm when we sit on the porch and watch the
woods. I’m not as quick to swat them away as when she first arrived.
Occasionally, I struggle against the urge to reach out and touch her too.

Odessa’s face is delicate when
she sleeps. Watching her rest on the couch, I count her breaths and admire how
her lips part as she dreams.

Until Odessa arrived, I rarely
slept and only dreamed of monsters in the woods. Now when I sleep, I see her
naked and waiting for me in bed. In my dreams, I can touch her without our
passion immediately leading to violence. Sometimes in the better dreams, I
explore her body as she does mine.

“Did you like music before you
came here?” she asks that night while we sit on the couch and stare at the TV’s
static.

“No.”

“Did you like anything?”

“I liked succeeding at my
missions.”

“You’re doing that robot thing
again.”

I frown at Odessa, only to find
her grinning back at me. “You’re mocking me.”

“No, I’m just playing with you.
I want you to stay sane for a long time.”

“What happens if I go feral?
Will you put me down?”

“No, I’ll let you kill me.”

Frowning darker, I look at
where her hand now holds mine. “Are you so weak you won’t even attempt to save
yourself?”

“No, I’m so weak I won’t want
to live alone here without you. I love you, Quill. Without you, I have no
reason to exist.”

“Pathetic.”

“You would fall apart without
me too.”

I open my mouth to tell her how
wrong she is, but Odessa’s fingers sliding over my knuckles distract me.

“This place doesn’t have to be
hell,” she whispers with her gaze on the TV. “It can be whatever we choose.”

“Tell that to the people we
find in my traps tomorrow.”

“If we died right off, yes, we
wouldn’t have a choice. But we didn’t die, and we have each other and this
cabin. We have Skittles and music and a TV that sometimes works. We have your
killing skills and my ability to say encouraging things while you use your
killing skills. I’d say we’re pretty lucky.”

Odessa’s tenderness tempts and
terrifies me. Her gaze finds mine, and I see intense clarity in her green eyes.

“Tomorrow, you can prove how
much you like it here. This cabin remains mine because I kill to keep it. Now
you’ll need to do the same.”

Smiling at me, she rests her
head against my chest. I think to push her away. Outside the cabin, wolves and
night-dwelling Death Dealers lurk. They want to destroy us.

Everything in the Lost Highway
wants to end our lives, and Odessa’s touch feels like a lie in such a world.

I don’t push her away, though,
because I’m afraid. My biggest fear has always been bowing to fear, and now I’m
constantly anxious. I fear Odessa will die. I’m afraid what will happen to me
if I allow her to live. I fear what lingers in the darkness outside the cabin,
and I’m afraid of what awaits us when the darkness fades.

I hated when Odessa called me a
robot. I wanted to prove myself human in the way she claimed I wasn’t.

Now I drown in my humanity with
only an unreliable Odessa as my life preserver.

Quill

O
dessa holds the machete in
front of her as we walk through the woods. She’s more comfortable with the feel
of the weapon in her hand. Whenever I glance back at her, Odessa is scanning
our surroundings rather than watching me. I approve of her new alert nature,
even if I rue my decision to bring her to the cabin.

I miss the way I once lived. No
fear or regret. No longing for what I shouldn’t need.
Is it possible to
return to such thinking after I’ve tasted what desire provides?

Behind me, Odessa looks tiny in
her oversized coat. I’m instantly struck with the urge to protect her. Her
dependency on me provides a new sense of pride. I roll my eyes, thinking of how
absurd I’ve become.

A short walk from the cabin, we
find a Death Dealer in a trap. Too far gone to speak coherently, he moans and
gurgles upon noticing us. Struggling against the stake through his chest, he
reaches for Odessa. I instinctively smack away his hand.

“The more feral they become,”
she says, stepping back, “the more likely they are to be undressed.”

Her words mean nothing to me. I
don’t care about these Death Dealers. They’re no more than diseased animals in
my traps.

“The woman that prowls around
our cabin has no shoes,” Odessa says, only pausing when the man again reaches
for her.

“Kill him.”

Odessa hesitates for a moment
before lowering the machete on his head. The blade doesn’t slide in easily, and
she looks startled to know human flesh isn’t the texture of soft cheese.
Attempting again, she puts more strength into the strike. This time, the blade rips
through his flesh and cracks his skull. The man still flops around.

When an uncertain Odessa looks
to me, I gesture toward the man. “Finish him.”

After her fourth try, the man
falls silent. I take my blade and lop off his head before shoving it in my
duffle bag. Odessa watches me, looking ready to puke.

“It’s our currency,” I remind
her.

Odessa says nothing, but I wait
for her to reassure me.
Am I the bad guy for doing what needs to be done?

“What?” she asks when I stand
over her.

“We need their heads to buy
things at the outpost.”

“I know. It’s still gross.”

Frowning, I can’t tell if she’s
judging me. I wish I didn’t care either way.

“Don’t sulk, Quill. Let’s check
more traps.”

Her expression soothes my
irritation. I want her to admire me. Human nature is a ridiculous game for
affection and approval.

Walking through the woods, I
notice the sound switching on and off. One moment, I can hear Odessa’s
footsteps behind me. The next, everything goes silent.

The next trap killed the Death
Dealer with a head wound. I add the skull to my bag and continue walking.
Odessa is humming when the sound returns. She stops immediately and glances
around to see if anyone might have heard.

I’m ready to return to the
cabin and put her mouth to better use when I notice movement up ahead. Another
man is stuck in a trap. Dressed all in black, he stops struggling when he
catches sight of us. Our gazes meet, and I realize he’s more coherent than the
average trapped Death Dealer.

“Careful,” I whisper to Odessa.

I am nearly on top of the man
when he springs to his feet and slices my stomach with a blade. Behind me,
Odessa gasps and moves toward him. I shove her backward, and she topples to the
ground.

“Stay back,” I warn as the man
lunges again.

I sidestep this strike and kick
his feet out from under him. The Death Dealer still manages to stab me in the
thigh.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he
taunts, rolling away and back to his feet. “No, don’t tell me. I’ll get a good
look at them when I crack open your head and dig around.”

This Death Dealer is new to the
Lost Highway and possesses smooth, lethal movements. Before arriving in our
prison, he killed often and easily. Now his killer instinct is focused on us.

When I throw a punch, his blade
nicks my wrist. The man swings for me, and I struggle to dodge him. We fall to
the ground where he attempts to pin me. I remove a blade from my side holster
and shove it into the man near the armpit. I hope to hit his heart and slow him
down.

Coughing blood in my face, he
headbutts me twice before reaching for the blade in his side. I spot movement
to my right, and the man grunts from Odessa’s machete strike at the back of his
skull. Spinning around, he releases me and charges her. She begins to run
before abruptly stopping. I’m on his back before he reaches the now very still
Odessa.

I wrap my arm around his throat
and squeeze until the bone snaps. Even injured, he shoves me back into a tree
with enough power to temporarily stun me. The Death Dealer knows he’s in
danger. Different from the zombie-like ones, he remains savvy enough to fight
another day.

Running away, he hurries toward
the highway. I look at Odessa, who stands near a tree. She glances around
warily, knowing my traps are everywhere.

“Stay here!” I yell, pointing
at her. “I need to finish him.”

“Quill, stay with me.”

“He’ll come back and attack
when we’re not ready. I have to finish him now. Stay here and wait for me.”

Forced to leave Odessa, I chase
after the Death Dealer. My mind already pictures him claiming everything I
possess including my woman. After all, I’d do the same if our roles were
reversed.