Horizon at Last

Horizon at Last
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Chapter One
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Every muscle in my body tensed. I quivered where I stood, ear pressed lightly against the cool surface of the hotel room door. Waiting, hardly daring to breathe. I strained my ears, listening intently. A steady procession of noises, small and muffled, sounded from the hallway through the heavy wood. My mind raced trying to guess what was out there.

The question of whether or not it was dangerous was one I didn't even bother pondering.

Ever since the rebellion's messy coup six years ago, which had ended with a catastrophic biological attack, everything was dangerous.

More than two-thirds of the nation, city upon city of innocents, had all fallen victim to the plague. Now, years later, what had previously counted as people could be divided into three groups: those who had died from the virus, those who had avoided catching the virus, and those whose bodies had reacted to the virus in unnatural ways. This last group was called many things, but I tended to refer to them as the "infected". That's what my father, an official in the old government, had called them anyway. Back when he was still around.

For those that remained human, like myself, the world was a dangerous place. Not only did we have to be on the constant lookout for packs of the infected, we had to be wary of other humans. It didn't take me long to realize that, out of the people left who still remained human, there were two subgroups. Those who had survived because of their strength, or some other useful characteristic, and those who had survived on pure chance alone.

After six years, I'd stopped wondering which group I fell into. The fact that I had managed to survive for such a long time meant that, for whatever reason, I was in the first group. Those who had escaped infection on pure luck didn't survive long in this new world.

It was better to be alone...

A soft nudge against my thigh brought my attention down to Dolly's wide brown eyes. She looked up at me expectantly, her tongue lolling and her tail wagging nervously. Well, I corrected myself, maybe there were a few exceptions. Dolly, a mild-tempered Sheepdog mutt of sorts, had been a more than welcome companion these past few years.

A disconnected string of knocks rang out suddenly from the other side of the door.

It sounded like whatever was making the noise was directly across from my hotel room now, pounding lightly against the door opposite mine. It was so close I could make out the faint, raspy sound of breathing through the thick wooden door. It sounded ragged and shallow.

A wild spike of fear prickled through me, raising the tiny hairs on my arms. Wild, fearful thoughts flickered like a film strip behind my eyes, sending my heart thumping quickly in my chest. Don't be stupid, I chided myself.

If it was one of the infected it wouldn't be alone.

Nevertheless, I backed slowly away from the door. Socked feet sliding quietly over the lush carpet, I moved towards my backpack sitting on a chair next to the bed. Reaching my hand in carefully, I wrapped my warm hand around the cold handle of my knife. I returned to the door. Dolly licked her chops anxiously, her brown eyes following my movements.

With my knife in hand, I felt my nervousness begin to fade. In its place a cool certainty filled me. I had two options. Open the door to see what I was up against or stay hiding behind it.

Thud!

I tensed at the sudden noise that came from the hallway. It sounded like something had fallen to the floor. My hand tightened its grip on my knife. I listened tensely as the hoarse breathing seemed to change, coming now in choked, short bursts... If there was ever a time to open the door and get a glimpse of my opponent, it would be now.

I breathed in slowly and shallowly through my nose in silence, my free hand moving to rest on the doorknob.

It's now or never, Neliah, I told myself firmly.

I turned the knob and pulled the door back an inch silently. My eyes widened in shock.

Skin. The soft color of pale honey. This was the first thing my paralyzed mind could make sense of. Hunched shoulders, the bony ridge of a spine, the fragile indentations of dimples above small, rounded buttocks. All streaked and mottled with variations of red, green, and deep purple bruises.

A boy sat across the hallway, facing away from me. He was thin, naked, and he had been beaten so harshly that some of the bruises broke through his skin. My mind raced, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

Was this some sort of trap?

Immediately suspicion flooded me. During the onset of the plague, I'd heard stories about groups of people laying out dolls on the side of the road and equipping them with recordings of real baby cries. Innocent people would be drawn to the helpless noises, only to find themselves fenced in on every side as the trap fell into place around them. Could this be something similar to that, but even more extreme?

I willed myself not to close the door. Sweeping my eyes up and down the empty hallway, dim from the pale sunlight shining in through the dusty windows, I forced myself to take a closer look at the boy.

Thick light-brown locks of short hair, soft and impossibly silky-looking, clumped together at the back of his head in a crust of dried blood. He sat crumpled with his knees bent so that his legs were splayed out slightly to either side of him. I couldn't see his arms. He seemed to be holding them protectively in front of his chest, close to his chin. His choked, raspy breathing sounded loud in the stale air of the hallway. Wondering what could be causing him to breathe like that, my eyes suddenly caught onto the thick length of bristled rope looped tightly around his neck. My stomach turned uneasily at the sight.

Whatever this was, trap or not, it was bad... I thought about closing the door again. I rocked back on my heel. Dolly nudged my calf with her cool, wet nose.

And then the soft, barely audible noise of a whimper reached my ears.

It was light and keening, a tremulous animal noise of undiluted hurt. It filled the air and it filled my chest. My insides seemed to swell until they pressed against the cage of my ribs. I felt ready to burst.

My hand jerked the door open so fast I knocked myself in the face.

Had I really thought of closing my door to this person? My stomach dropped as the full realization of what I had been contemplating hit me. What type of monster was I that I would leave such a fragile, helpless person to fend for themselves? I staggered back, my head reeling, and I threw the door open completely. I stepped out into the hallway.

And then I froze. What should I say? Were there any words that could possibly convince this beaten stranger that I wasn't a threat? I belatedly realized that I still held my knife tightly in my hand. Feeling horrified, I instinctively dropped it. It fell to the floor with a ringing thud.

The boy jolted, a horrible gulping noise spilling out of him as he scrambled around to face me. His back bumped against the door opposite mine and I watched, frozen, as his eyes raced first to the knife on the floor and then up to my face. His eyes met mine.

My stomach lurched as I was submerged in a pool of captured sunlight.

Iridescent hazel eyes, so bright they were nearly gold, stared up at me through a sheen of tears and dark, clumped lashes. For a moment the world around me and the precious world I held onto in my memory seemed to still.

Silence filled my world.

And there was nothing but this. The indescribable tug of another soul as it brushed against mine. When was the last time I had looked into the eyes of another human being?

I couldn't breathe.

And then those golden eyes skittered away from mine, jolting me out of whatever spell I had slipped under. I found myself gasping, heat gathering in my face as my eyes, no longer anchored by the gravity of his gaze, lowered without my consent. I stood there, entangled in a horrified sort of embarrassment, unable to move. This is...

Words failed me as I watched him jerk his gaze down to the floor like he'd been smacked. His face grimaced as though he was about to sob and he struggled to fold his legs in a way that could cover himself.

I tore my eyes away from him and looked down at the floor myself.

But not before I had seen the raw bruises in the shape of hands between his legs... And not before I had noticed that both of his wrists were also caught in the thick slew of prickly rope that was knotted around his neck. His entire face was red but I couldn't tell if it was from humiliation or because he was choking.

I swayed a little on my feet, horror, disbelief, and pity rocking me. It was hard to believe this was real.

But I knew it must be... because never in a million years would my mind have been able to conjure something like this up. I opened my mouth, struggling to find words, but my jaw just hung open dumbly, speechless.

A series of loud noises echoed up from the stairwell at the far end of the hallway. I jumped.

"Swore I saw him go in this building." A deep, rumbling voice said. The sound of a pair of heavy footsteps trudging up the stairs sent a jolt of panic through me. My head swiveled towards the stairs so fast my neck cracked and I felt all my muscles tense.

"And I swear I saw him go behind the building!" A second, higher voice complained.

Him? ... They were talking about the boy! I snapped my head back around and I saw that he was looking up at me with wide, confused eyes that held a hint of barely-controlled fear. The footsteps came closer. Dolly whined behind me.

Without thinking I dropped to my knees on the floor so that I was at his level. My eyes met pooled sunlight again.

The boy stared back at me inscrutably, but the sound of his raspy breathing seemed to speed up. Without thinking I reached out and lifted my arms as slowly as I dared, holding them open for him. His wide eyes flitted between my face and my hands, his brow dipping as new tears bloomed over his red cheeks. He was scared and he didn't trust me.

A wave of urgency thundered through me, sending my heart fluttering tightly in my throat. The sound of the approaching voices and footsteps had every bit of me quivering with the burning desire to flee.

But I forced myself to be still.

Staring steadily into his eyes, I tried to physically show him my feelings of sincerity and, underneath those, my desperation. I don't know what it was about this boy, but for some reason I needed him to feel that he could trust me. I held his searching gaze. Trust me...

One of the footsteps tripped, stomping loudly. I flinched. My arms trembled with tension. Trust me. My eyes bored into his. Trust me now. He stared back at me, frozen.

NOW.

He rose unsteadily to his knees. His eyes opened impossibly wide and he stared through me, blind with terror. A shiver coursed through him. The ringing of hands against the metal banister clanged against my ears.

"C'mon!" I mouthed frantically, my fingers twitching. He lifted a knee to shuffle towards me. That was all the confirmation I needed.

I lunged forwards like the spring of a trap. My hands were on him and, with a strength and speed I didn't know I had, I yanked him into the room. He tumbled to the carpet with a choked gasp behind me. Not giving myself enough time to think, I swiped my knife out of the hallway. The door closed and locked with a click.

"Little shit. Who would try and run away by going to the fourth story?" Low laughter rumbled from the hallway entrance. My hair rose on the back of my neck.

"You kidding? It's a miracle that dummy even thought to ditch." the higher voice snickered, "I'm still of the thought he got away by accident. Ain't no way in hell he's that smart." They both laughed meanly.

Suddenly the boy started choking loudly from where he lay on his side on the floor.

I quickly pulled him back up into a sitting position, facing me. But his bright hazel eyes continued to stare through me wildly and his entire body shook with trembles. Hyperventilating started in fast, breathless wheezes that rattled through his thin frame. His fingers curled and uncurled weakly under his chin and tears slipped down his cheeks. I'd scared him.

Knowing that I had seconds before the men behind those cruel voices were outside my door, seconds to quiet him, I felt a thick calm fall over me. Nearly drowsy with the force of my body's biological come-down, I placed my palms gently over his temples and my forehead against his.

Saying nothing, I held his eyes.

Almost immediately they seemed to sharpen, gaining awareness as he focused solely on the calmness of my own brown gaze. His breathing slowed abruptly in his chest.

Leaning back, I raised a single finger to my lips. They were outside our door now. Their words mumbled faintly in my ears over the rush of my pulse. The boy's lids fluttered faintly, but he shakily lifted his pointer finger before his lips in reply. His chest seemed to rise and fall in slow motion.

"--a good use for his dummy mouth." Their words came to me, distant and horrifying.

"He's been the all 'round favorite for sure." The low voice mumbled, "Gonna be pissed if we lose him."

"Not as pissed as Keith." The higher voice chortled maliciously.

"--do not want the boss pissed at you personally. That's a sure-fire way to--" their voices started to fade away, heading down to the other stairwell at the end of the hallway. Gradients of relief washed over me little by little as I listened to them retreat.

Finally, when the only sound of them was the distant thumping of feet receding down the far stairs, I let myself relax. Air whooshed into my lungs and a string of nonsensical laughter spilled out. I hadn't even realized I had been holding my breath.

We'd made it.

They hadn't found us. Everything was okay, and--

--I suddenly became aware of the limp weight in my arms.

I looked down at the boy leaning into my arms. He was silent. Frowning, I turned him to the side so I could see him.

His eyes were closed and the previously flushed skin of his cheeks was quickly turning pale. His lips, full and chapped with dehydration, were tinged a light purple. His chest wasn't moving and he lay completely still in my arms. Unconscious.

...

Horizon at Last
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Chapter Two
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When I first met Dolly, she had been starved, half-wild, and inconsolable.

Rake thin, the small cage of her ribs pressing through the matted patches of her falling-out fur, her brown eyes had gleamed with a sharp fury. It was the sort of anger that fills the empty places inside someone who has lost everything.

I guess I was able to recognize her bitter rage because it was the same feeling that had kept me awake night after night, silently railing against the unfairness of it all.

She had been bedding down with the frail, unmoving bodies of her dead pups when I stumbled upon her. Laying still and hard, they had tumbled out of the wicker-basket beneath her like stale loaves of bread when she sprang to her feet. Rolling slowly over the dirty back-alley pavement, their wrinkled eyes forever shut to the world, she had guarded them with her hackles raised and a spitting snarl.

It had taken me a long time to convince her to leave her dead babies. Night after night I found myself coming back to her, bringing small offerings of food. Facing the threat of losing a finger or worse simply because there was something about the mad grief in her eyes that kept drawing me back. This went on for days, and my only encouragement to continue was the absence of the food I had brought her the night before.

Eventually though it became time for me to move on. And it was on the morning of my departure, as I was packing up my things, that she had been the one to come to me. Since then she's been my constant companion and together we've gained a sense of happiness, or at the very least satisfaction, with our lives.

But I'll never forget the feral possessiveness that had burned in her eyes on that first day.

And that's why, when I opened the hotel room door and Dolly slowly lifted her head from its resting place on the boy's lap to glare at me sharply, I felt a rush of nostalgic surprise. I blinked, momentarily dismayed by the flash of cautious hostility in her eyes. And then, as I watched her turn her attention back to the boy and lick his bruised temple, I connected the dots.

She felt protective of him.

Something about this boy, with his wordless cries and fearful trembles, had drawn out Dolly's long-buried maternal instincts. I set my bag down to the side of the door and made my way over to the large, fluffy bed, feeling my own eyes drawn to the unconscious face of our unexpected guest.

Lying on his back with the puffy blankets pulled up to his chin, the swollen sides of white pillows cradling his head, he looked very small. He had an open, innocent-looking face with a high brow, prominent cheekbones, and a narrow jaw. Without realizing it, I found myself staring at him, the first human face that I had seen this close in years.

My eyes flickered over his face, hungrily soaking up every detail. A miniscule scar, faint and pale, streaking through the edge of the dark, defined line that was his left eyebrow. Creamy smooth skin, so thin I could almost see the transparent lacework of purple veins in his eyelids beneath the reddish cloud of bruises. Heavy, dark eyelashes, longer than any girls', framing the seam of his almond-shaped eyes. The graceful curve of his nose, sloping down from the gentle roundness of his forehead to the small, upturned bump in the middle of his face. The soft rise of his lips, full and chapped and bruised with what looked sickeningly like bite marks.

He was very pretty.

But it was the unconscious cant of his eyebrows, the set of his lips in a pout that he didn't seem to be aware of, that entranced me. It was a face that spoke of some inner attunement to the weight of the world as it turned slowly upon its axis. Some mysterious understanding, indiscernible to everyone else, seemed to lay its finger in a constant press against his brow. Vulnerability and a fragile sort of innocence seemed to underlie the blossoming sexuality of his lips, the mouth of a young man that still felt as a child.

I shook my head slightly, feeling silly. I must be lonelier than I'd thought. As if one could really gather that much from just a person's face. After all, I should know better than anyone to never trust that someone is exactly who they seem to be.

I quickly pushed these thoughts to the back of my mind and tried to focus on more important things.

After I had, in a flurry of panic, managed to cut him free of the rope choking him and binding his wrists I had been too shocked to do much else but put him in bed and cover him with blankets. But, staring at him now and looking at the turgid bruises swelling the delicate structure of his face, I knew that I would need to care for his wounds soon.

I shifted my weight awkwardly. He'd been sleeping almost a full twenty-four hours. If there was a chance that any of his injuries might get infected, I should have taken care of that already. I should probably wake him up and get that taken care of now... Now.

Dolly watched me argue silently with myself. Her mouth split open in an amused grin, her tongue lolling.

"Shut up." I muttered, glaring at her.

I had a right to be nervous! This was the first person I'd spoken to in a really, really long time! And the last time we'd talked, things didn't go so smooth... If opening one's door to a naked, scuffed up boy who was tangled in rope and practically delirious with fear could ever go smoothly. Ever.

Ugh! Get a grip, Neliah.

"Fine!" I answered myself, already feeling warmth building in my cheeks. I cleared my throat.

"Um... hello?"

No answer.

"Hey," I trailed off uncertainly, "You should really get up now. Some of your cuts should probably be cleaned... So you don't get any infections."

I felt foolish.

"I mean its not like I'm a doctor or anything. But still..." I murmured. This wasn't working.

Setting my hand gently on what I guessed to be his shoulder through the thick blankets, I moved to shake him-

-But ended up springing backwards with a yelp when he shot up in the bed like a bullet.

A strangled scream tore from his lips, but it choked off immediately and he lurched forwards, both hands flying up to grasp at his neck. Dolly leaped off the bed, alarmed. I froze where I stood, half-crouched, watching him nervously.

It was a moment before the pain in his throat seemed to lessen and he allowed himself to breathe, his bony shoulders rising with slow, rattling inhales. Dolly floundered behind my heels anxiously, whining. She was just as unused to other humans as I was.

Holding his neck carefully, the blankets pooled in his lap, I watched as he slowly turned his head to look at the other side of the room. I frowned. Did he not realize I was over here?

My brief speculation was validated when, panting, he timidly brought his head around to my side of the room. Alarm opened his features wide when his eyes met mine and, before I could do or say anything, he had scrambled backwards and tumbled off the side of the bed with a thud.

Alarmed myself now, I rushed forwards.

"Woah, hey!" I exclaimed, running around the bed only to see him start to squirm beneath it, "Hey, don't-"

Dolly barked, wagging her tail excitedly at our jumbled human interaction.

This is not going how I thought, I had just enough time to think exasperatedly to myself, and then every bit of him was hidden under the bed. Without thinking, I scrambled in after him, diving under the bed curtains.

Clearly, this is not what he expected me to do, because he let out a small squeak. This small outburst seemed to cause him a sharp pain and he convulsed into a tight ball on his side under the dusty bed frame, clutching his neck. I took advantage of his brief incapacitation and crawled right up next to him on my belly. My dark-skinned hands reached out blindly in the dim light filtering through the white bed-curtains and latched on fiercely to his wrists. Feeling the sticky heat of raw flesh and hearing his breath catch sharply in his chest, I quickly moved my grip down to his forearms. He trembled once in my hands and then grew very still.

Only the sound of our breathing, quick and afraid, sounded in the dusty air under the bed. What was I doing? Reacting like this was probably only scaring him more.

A hoarse sob spilled out from him in the near-darkness, proving me right.

I shifted onto my side and scooted closer to him until we were face to face. His foot jerked away from me, making a rough noise against the thick carpet. Small, flinching shivers coated him and I loosened my grip.

"Shhh..." I breathed, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the muffled light.

He was curled in on himself tightly, his eyes squeezed shut to me, trembling. Expecting me to hurt him.

Slowly I let my palms travel up his arms to meet his hands. I clasped his bony fingers gently in mine. And I waited.

Finally, after our hands had begun to get very sweaty, his ragged breathing seemed to slow. I watched with calm steadiness as his eyes, flinching, cracked open to look at me. I felt my skin tingle with nervous excitement as the luminous gold of his hazel eyes rested on me.

"Hey..." I said quietly, feeling the pressure of his full attention.

"I'm sorry that I scared you."

I'm scared myself.

His eyes traced the words on my lips. His face was blank, expressionless. I took a deep breath and went on.

"I didn't mean to hurt you either-I don't!" I corrected myself quickly, feeling nervous under the open scrutiny of his stare, "I don't mean to hurt you."

I paused and forced myself not to drop my gaze as his brilliant hazel eyes flickered over mine, searching. My pulse thudded in my neck.

"Please believe me, I'm not going to hurt you... My name is Neliah Dawson, I'm seventeen, and I've been living by myself for a while now. You're the first person I've talked to in a really long time and..." I paused, unsure of what to say, "I don't want you to be scared of me." I finished quietly.

He stared at me, blinking, his mouth open slightly. His brow twisted. I couldn't read his expression.

"I'm sorry..." I added, not knowing what else to say. Squeezed his hands.

And then his breath came whooshing out softly in a set of small sobs. Tears filled his lashes and dribbled to the dusty carpet under his bruised cheek. His hands squeezed back.

"I'm sorry." I said again, tears filling my eyes, "I'm sorry..."

He curled into me then, bending his head over our clasped hands to press his forehead to mine. And it was this act, this simple gesture that undid me.

All of the hurt and anger, the self-loathing and loneliness that used to keep me up at night until I was stuffing my fist into my mouth to stifle my building screams-it all came flooding back.

Except this time I wasn't alone.

There was the frail press of bony fingers meshed against mine. The tickling warmth of someone's breath, wet and shaky, brushing over the skin of my hands and face.

I cried until I didn't have anymore tears, just raw, rushing gasps. Inside me there was a feeling of being stretched, of emptiness being filled with an insubstantial warmth.

And I realized, as I held the boy's hands and he continued to cry, leaning into me with a desperate sort of neediness... That, even though he was the one who had been beaten and gone through horrors that I couldn't even imagine, he wasn't the one who had been broken.

It was him that was holding me.

...