Free The Deadly Nightshade by Justine Ashford Page B

be heard.
    “We went for months like that, in this state of near-starvation. We would go days on end, sometimes, without a single thing to eat. It did weird things to me, you know, and it did weird things to him too. Every now and then one of us would become hysterical, or delusional, or have these fits of rage or episodes of depression. We were like walking corpses, really, just struggling to stay alive until our bodies couldn’t handle it anymore. Anyway, one night I woke up to Alex sitting in front of me, playing with his revolver, removing and reloading the bullets into the cylinder—there had been six once, but we were down to only two by then. I asked him what he was doing, and he just smiled and told me he was “returning to life” and that I should do the same. He blew his brains out right in front of my face, I mean literally two feet away from me. It was the hunger that got to him, you know? He just couldn’t take it anymore . . . That was about a week before I found you.”
    I stop for a moment and turn to look at him. He isn’t crying. There is no flushing of the face or quivering of the lip, not even a slight twitch; only a dull, melancholy acceptance is evidence of his feelings on the matter. It is not the reaction I expect from him.
    “Why didn’t you do it?” I ask.
    “What, kill myself? Believe me, I thought about it. I put that gun up to my temple and I cried and I prayed to be back with my family, but my fingers just refused. I sat there all night long just struggling, but I couldn’t. I don’t know if I’m too much of a coward or what, but I covered my brother with his blanket and left the gun next to him so I wouldn’t be tempted again. I figured I might as well see how long I could last, you know?”
    “Why are you telling me this?”
    He smiles faintly, shrugging. “Why not? Someone ought to know, right? Besides, you might be the last person I ever talk to.”
    No doubt about that. He isn’t going to last long out here; he can’t hunt, he can’t fight, and he’s got no survival skills whatsoever. And if he thinks I’m going to feed and protect him, he’s got another thing coming. He can follow me around all he wants, but I’m not going to give up any more of my food for the sake of his nourishment, and if we happen to run into any trouble he’s on his own. No, I doubt he will be a nuisance to me much longer.

 
     
     
     
    Chapter 14
     
    By midday I have set up several traps but caught nothing, and my chances are beginning to grow slimmer and slimmer as the day wanes. Connor watches every movement I make, seeming entranced every time I set up a snare and asking me several times to show him how to build one. If it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t be setting up all of these damn snares in the first place. Instead, I would be sitting by a warm fire eating roasted hare or squirrel or raccoon or whatever and enjoying the sound of complete and utter silence. But instead I’m here, feeling the pit of hunger within my stomach grow with each passing hour, listening to his careless blundering and ceaseless chatter, and contemplating all the possible ways I could quickly and painlessly kill myself.
    He is in the middle of some lengthy anecdote I haven’t been listening to when I finally decide I have had enough. “Connor, I changed my mind. I’m not doing this anymore,” I tell him. “Four days is enough. You need to go.”
    “I’m not going anywhere. I thought we already established this.”
    Stubborn asshole. “Look, if you want to keep following me around then you’re going to have to prove your usefulness. I need to know this relationship is going to be beneficial to me too, otherwise I’ll find a way of getting rid of you.”
    Connor laughs. “Yeah? And what’s to stop me from just following you like I’ve been doing?”
    “The fact that I’m about a second away from killing you.”
    He laughs again. “Empty threats aren’t going to work on me, Nightshade. I need an