“And then...I hear something. A little whine, from the backseat. And I know that all the kids are dead, but I lean inside the SUV again and down by their legs, there’s something wriggling, wrapped in a blanket, too low to the floor for the bullets to have hit. I pull it out and unwrap it and I’m holding a little fluffy German Shepherd puppy.”
“Rufus,” I breathed.
“The parents must have taken the kids to buy him, just before they took them to visit their uncle. I stare at this little guy and I know that he’ll die if I just leave him there to wander off into the jungle. And I’m not letting anyone else die. I need my hands for my rifle so I open up the top of my shirt and sit him in there, against my chest, with his head poking out, and I haul ass out of there. When I get to the extraction point, the CIA pilot tells me to leave it behind, and I just—I glare at him until he backs down. I guess that’s the first time I did it. I keep the little guy with me all through two choppers and two flights, all the way back to the US.”
“We get home and the dog looks around at this new home in a new country and he just looks... lost. I know how it feels. I give it one of my old shirts to play with and he loves it: he’s small enough to go down the sleeves like a kid in a play tunnel and he does that over and over until he finally falls asleep. But I don’t sleep. I’m seeing the faces of those kids, over and over.”
“The next morning, it’s raining. I take the dog out with me, and we go to the store to buy dog food and a lead and stuff…” He swallowed. “Everyone’s...normal. And they think I’m normal, I have ‘em fooled, but inside I’m—” He closed his eyes. “The girl on the checkout smiles at me and I want to yell at her, don’t you know what I did?! And every time I see children, I’m—I can see their faces, I can feel their necks, under my fingers, as I check for pulses that aren’t there….”
Silent tears were rolling down my cheeks. I leaned forward and put my hands on Cal’s shoulders. I didn’t know what to say to make it better but I needed him to know I was there.
“I get outside, start walking home...and everywhere, there’s just people, normal people, and they don’t realize there’s a monster right there, walking next to them. I’ve killed a family. I’ve killed children. And the other ones...the people I assassinated. How many of them were innocent, just people the CIA decided were inconvenient? I’m crossing a bridge over a highway and the next thing I know, I’ve stepped up onto the parapet.”
I stared at him in horror, unable to speak.
“I’m standing there, with the traffic roaring past below, and I’m thinking, do it, because I don’t deserve to be in this world, anymore. And then I hear this little bark. I’ve dropped the puppy’s lead, but it hasn’t run away. It’s just sitting there looking up at me and I think...who’s going to take care of him if I do this?”
“And so I climb down, and I pick up the lead, and I figure out a different way. I go back to my apartment, pack a bag, empty my bank account. The dog picks up the shirt I gave him in his teeth: I guess it’s his, now. And then we just walk out...and keep walking.”
“You just...left?” I asked.
“I just left,” he said. “Slept rough. Hunted for food. Kept going and going, getting further and further from the cities, from people, until I reached the woods. Found the spot where the cabin is, used all my savings to buy the land.” He looked around him. “Monsters belong in the woods.”
It was the most heartbreaking thing I’d ever heard. I flew at him and flung my arms around his neck. “No!” I told him. “Jesus, Cal, no! You’re not a monster. It wasn’t you. You were just trying to protect people.”
He was stiff and unyielding under me. “Doesn’t bring that family back, though, does it?”
I rested my head against his. “No,” I admitted.
“You know why I was in Seattle, that day I met you?” he asked. He pushed me back just a little so that he could look at me. “I had a friend, in the CIA...or as close to a friend as you can get, in that place. Shawn Lox. Good guy. Military, same as me, except he was Airborne. They had him doing what I did. He woke up and got out about the same time I did.” He looked away, off into the trees. “Except...he didn’t go into the woods, he crawled into a bottle. Wound up driving to a military base at three in the morning, drunk out of his mind, screaming outside the gate about the things he’d done. They were about to arrest him when he pulled a gun and shot himself. It made the papers, even in Marten Valley. I was in Seattle for the funeral, to say goodbye.” He shook his head and looked at me. “I don’t know if there’s any coming back, for people like Shawn and me. I want you. I want to come with you to Canada,” he said. “I want...this. Us. But after what I did…”