Destiny: Quantic Dreams Book 3 by Elizabeth McLaughlin (books for 20 year olds .txt) 📗

“The blood smells weird.”

“Honey, for fuck’s sake. You have no idea what could be in that blood.” She produced a handkerchief from somewhere and wiped my hands.

“Fair enough. Look, let’s put the body somewhere secure. We can clean it in the morning and take what parts we need.” Eliza looked down at me as I spoke and I saw that my clothing was spattered with blood. “It’s not mine.”

“I know.” She put an arm around me. “Come back to the tent with me before I keel over.” The brave face stayed put but I could feel body trembling as she ‘helped’ me back to the tent. Once we were inside, she pulled me to her, arms squeezing me so tightly I had trouble breathing. “What the hell were you thinking?!” She held me at arms length, eyes burning into mine. “You could have been killed.”

“I-“

“You know you can’t be out there alone, Fiona. Jesus Christ, we have no idea what’s out here and…and FUCK!” I don’t think I had ever seen her so angry.

“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice. I completely understood how she felt. Had our positions been reversed, I would have been just as angry. If not more.

‘You goddamn better well be,” Eliza snarled. “What the hell would you have done if I hadn’t been there?”

“I’d be dead.” I kept my eyes downcast. What had transpired wasn’t my fault, but I felt guilty anyway. Eliza was right. I had been irresponsible going out alone, but even more so by not paying attention. I hadn’t only put my life in danger, but hers as well, and the lives of who knows how many people.

“You’re right-“ Her voice cracked and tears rolled down her cheeks. “You’d be dead. And what the hell would I do without you?”

I looked into her eyes. “I don’t know.” It was my turn to gather her into my arms. “I don’t know what I’d do without you either. I’m so, so sorry, love.” The shock of what had happened was fully hitting me now and I cried, sobs wracking my entire body. “I-I’m sorry.” My knees felt weak and I lowered myself to the floor.

Eliza’s face softened and she bent down with me. “I know, sweetheart. I’m sorry I yelled at you. You just scared me so badly.”

I snuffled and wiped snot from my nose. “I know.”

“I almost lost you once before, I can’t risk that ever again. Love of my life.” We collapsed onto the sleeping bag together and cried a little longer. I was just about to fall asleep when we were jerked awake by a piercing scream.

Chapter Nine

“Fuck, what now?” Both of us leapt out of the tent, skidding to an unsteady halt on the grass.

“Help! I need help over here!” A young man bellowed from the edge of the camp. Eliza reached back into the tent and grabbed the shotgun. By the time we made it to where the young man was standing more people had gathered. A breeze blew past and I caught a whiff of the strange smell that had been all over the panther’s face.

Fuck.

A young man’s body lay in the grass, mangled and torn. His throat was ripped out, vocal cords and esophagus torn to shreds. His arms and hands were covered in defensive lacerations. A tool belt hung from his waist and I moved to push it aside until I realized that it wasn’t a tool belt. It was his intestines. My gorge rose and I clasped my hands over my mouth to keep from vomiting. The flesh stank so badly I could taste it.

“The panther.”

Eliza’s voice was faint behind me. Just then, a woman about my age ran towards the body. “Paul!”

Marcus had caught up to the group at this point and ran to hold her back. “Stay back, Mrs. Tolland. Stay back.” The woman screamed when she saw the body and fought Marcus with every ounce of her strength. “Let me go! Let me GO!”

“Marcus, get her out of here.” Eliza directed them away from the boy’s body. “Everyone back to their tents! We are breaking camp! Go! NOW. Fiona, get me a clean sheet.” I trotted to the supply sleds and found a reasonably clean piece of cloth. I returned to find Eliza and Marcus cleaning up the body as delicately as they could; they closed the young man’s eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. There was no repairing the wounds to make them look any better, but they had arranged the man’s clothes to cover the bloody gashes as best they could. I handed the sheet to them and watched from a distance as they rolled the body into the cloth and wrapped it wordlessly. When it was finished, they carried the body to the sleds. “Marcus, you can go get the mother now. We’ll figure out what to do with the body according to her wishes.” I put my arms around her.

“I love you.” I leaned my head against her shoulder. “I love you so much, sweetheart.”

“He didn’t need to die.” She stared at the body where the blood had started to congeal against the cloth. “He’s just Marcus’s age, honey. That could be our son laying there.”

“Well, it isn’t. Our son is the very embodiment of Samson, beloved. He is the distant ancestor of Ragnar Lothbrok, destined to be invulnerable. He is a modern day Bjorn Ironside.” It felt wrong to joke when a young life had been cut down in its prime in front of us, but I didn’t care. There was nothing I could do to help the young man. The only thing I could do was be there to comfort my wife. My life. Feeling this helpless was frustrating; I felt her anguish and pain and could only…exist, while she was being ripped apart. It was worse than feeling the pain myself. I would give anything to take it from her.

The young man’s mother