Atreyu took the knife from Maria without hesitation. It was clearly of army make, a semi-thick blade lined down the middle with an engraved, decorative pattern; they had found it after a short time of surfing through the glovebox. He held it carefully, looking over it to determine whether it would be best to use just the tip, or whether it would work best if the entire sharp side was pulled and pushed at once.
"Now watch." The boy looked to both of them with his incredibly deep russest eyes.
"Don't worry, buddy, your creepiness has more than garnered my attention," Chance joked. Maria reached over and slapped the side of his head with an incredulous expression.
"Be nice," she growled.
“Okay.” Atreyu took a deep breath. Outside, the night was heavy and deep. The black sky and the stars thereof were marred only by a few, wispy clouds that intertwined with the far-spreading mist from the chemical bomb a few miles back. He switched on the car light above his head for a better view, then held out his arm, palm up. “Please don’t get grossed out. I have to go pretty deep, or it’ll just heal the second I cut it.”
Atreyu steadily reached over with the knife, then touched the tip to the base of his wrist. And pushed down, letting it sink into his leopard-spotted fur and flesh. He did not feel pain…until he lowered the blade yet further and started to draw it back along his vein, digging deeper and pushing harder with each half-inch. Blood pooled and streamed, warm and sticky as it dripped along his arm and down onto his shirt. When the child was satisfied he yanked the knife out, wiped it off on his pants, and set it down on his thigh.
“Oh my God…” Maria took a moment to gather herself. “Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Like hell,” Atreyu confirmed. “Keep watching. The fun part hasn’t happened yet.”
Following a few seconds more of maroon droplets staining everything they fell upon, the bleeding came to an abrupt stop and flowed no longer. Then, just as fast, skin rejoined with skin, pulling back together with invisible seams— and it was as though he had never cut himself at all.
“…That cut…” Chance took Atreyu’s arm and examined it up close. “How deep was it?”
“I tried to go through the vein and into muscle…” he paused. “Now can we go back?”
Shocked witless, neither soldier answered him as Chance revved the engine to life again, and switched on the headlights. They were just about to take off when they noticed something had been caught in the headlights’ glare…a walking figure a football field or so down the road. “I’ve got this,” Maria said. Without waiting for approval, she unbuckled and hopped out, pistol outstretched and at the ready. “Hey! You over there!” she called, praying it was only a refugee.
___________
Moon regarded the fanciful, magnificent tin, hunger gleaming in her pink eyes. She could just take one and chow down. The girl was starving from being so long on foot. They looked pretty dang delicious. Only problem? The last time a Nazi had offered her sweets, even after testing one himself, trying to gain trust…it had proven to be spiked with second-grade arsenic.
The girl took one anyway, impulsively. It was soft. Cloud-like. She had it halfway raised to her mouth when she stopped and brought it down, quickly glancing over Entaru. She shook her head, making a crystal clear sound in her throat that only a child could make: Nunhh-uhh.
Topic: Our Plagued Reality: Us and Them (Read 23103 times)