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They are disrobing. Not completely. They are taking their outer clothing off, stripping down to their thermal underwear. They join the sleeping bags together and put me in the middle, two sets of arms wrapped around me, two bodies pressed against mine, two strong, masculine forms keeping me safe against the dangers of the night.
I wonder why they haven’t sought out partners. Why aren’t they living normal lives with wives and kids? Why do they seek this isolation and rush so gladly to the dark, cold night? To me, Soren and Jason seem like the most stable, even-handed people I have ever met. But my perceptions are skewed. I come from chaos, and so do they. We are two sides of the same coin. We are different flavors of the same ice cream. We are…
8
Morning has come and the weather has cleared. Bright sun greets me, as does the smell of an egg burrito that has been inside a ration pack for months. It smells fucking delicious.
“Yum,” I say, grabbing at the food. It happens to have been in Soren’s hand a moment ago, but my hunger demands that I take it.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I take a bite and hand it back. “Morning. Where’s Jason?”
“Taking a piss,” Jason shouts from outside the tent.
That sounds like a good idea to me. I need to pee. I need to eat. And I need for Soren to stop glaring at me.
Soren
She’s not sorry anymore. The submissive, sad little girl we found last night has returned to the self-assured, arrogant, brat of a woman. I’m half-glad I was able to see her as she was last night, but I am not glad how it happened, or not knowing why.
“You have no shoe,” I tell her. “So we’re going to carry you back down today. After what you did last night, consider yourself in trouble of the most extreme and intense kind.”
Her face falls a little. She was expecting the softer man from last night as well, the one who held her while the storm raged. But he has gone too, replaced by the commanding officer who is going to tear strips off his disobedient subordinate. The way she woke up, grinning, cheerful, absolutely without any kind of remorse, that’s not going to fly. I’m going to make her sorry. I’m going to make her small. And I’m going to discover her secret.
“Let’s get this shit broken down and get back to the camp,” Jason says, throwing back the tent awning. “Get dressed, Aslin. We’re taking you home.”
“Not my home,” she says. “Your home, though? Why do you guys live so far out? It can’t be for the company, spoiled rich people who think the whole thing is a joke.”
“Most people aren’t as rude as you,” I say. “Or as trying. Most people take what we do seriously. Most people take themselves and their lives more seriously.”
Aslin
Here come the lectures. I knew that once we were all safe I was going to be in trouble. I just didn’t think I’d be in this much trouble this quickly. Last night I felt bad. This morning I feel a lot better. In the light of day it is easy to pretend that the actions of the evening were a specific and unique kind of madness. I’m not the same person I was last night, right? And Soren’s making too much of this, right?
“You woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” I pout.
He reaches out and grabs me by the back of the head, suddenly. His fingers fist in my hair and he uses the grasp to pull me hard up against him, our noses touching.
“I woke up knowing that you need to be handled differently,” he says. “You wait until I get you home, young lady.”
Fuck me. A thrill runs right through to the core of me. Is he trying to turn me on? I don’t think so. The way his eyes flash at me tells me he’s really angry. I’ve pissed this guy off. I have managed to push him beyond the kind limits of what he wants to be.
I grab his burrito, and I shove it right into my mouth. If he’s going to beat me, I need to be fed.
He glares at me. I chew. He glares at me harder. I chew more.
“What?” I ask the question through a mouthful, which is not ladylike, but hey. I have limited options here, and I am starving.
“Do you really think you can get out of this by stealing my breakfast?” His grip tightens on my hair. “You’re…” He stops talking, lost for words. “You’re incorrigible.”
I finish his burrito.
“Jason,” he says. “Come get this girl.”
Jason comes in. He’s fully dressed and ready to go. He reaches for me, grabs my arm, and slings me up over his shoulder like a spider monkey. The way he handles me makes me feel so very small and feminine. He’s just so strong, and unlike Soren, he doesn’t seem to be simmering with barely suppressed rage.
