Brought Down

10. Sleeping Arrangements

Julian

The floor is hard and cold, but I do my best to lie still. As exhausted as I may be, sleep is impossible in such conditions. Also, the hunger. I've never been deprived of food for more than a few hours, so the sensations of the last couple of days have really been a discovery. It makes sense now why the restrictions on food supplies that my father occasionally imposes on miners make them so compliant. The half of the energy bar the stupid rebel gave me did nothing but make my body crave for more. And he ate the second half! True, I couldn't quite bring myself to say 'please' to him, but he shouldn't have demanded that of me. Who does he think he is?

No big deal. People can go for days without food, and he did give me water to drink. I can make it.

He seems to have no troubles sleeping. After a few minutes of being quiet, he begins to snore. Just great. I could never fall asleep with someone snoring by my side.

Not that I intend to fall asleep now.

I wait for what feels like ages. His breathing seems steady. Quietly, I sit up, then get to my feet and approach him.

I kneel by his side. He holds his rifle even in his sleep. His blond hair is a mess, his expression relaxed. He is a strong man, bigger than I am. But I'm smarter.

I reach out and touch his vest.

His hand grabs mine instantly. I gasp and try to draw my hand back, but he squeezes my wrist painfully, and stares at me with eyes that have not a trace of sleep in them.

"What're you doing?" he says.

I pull my hand, but he holds it firmly. Not good.

"Let go," I say.

"Going for my rifle?"

"No!" Then, the idea comes. "I'm just too cold to sleep. I thought I'd lie near you for some warmth."

He frowns. That's clearly not what he expected. His grip loosens. I pull my hand away, and sit on my heels, rubbing my wrist.

"Were you trying to hit on me again?" he says. "Like when you touched my hand back in your cell?"

I stare at him with incredulity.

"Do I look like someone in a state to get amorous? I could only be excited by edible things right now."

"Good," he says. "Because I prefer girls."

"Glad for you." I start getting up.

"Wait," he says. "You can sleep here, just... well... if we lay back to back, it would be okay, I guess. But if you try to pull something, I'll break your hand, I swear."

I wonder if 'pulling something' refers to touching him or to going for his rifle. Anyway, I hesitate. Sleeping next to this dirty rebel hasn't been my objective. On the other hand, it could offer some warmth, and possibly a few other interesting opportunities.

I return to the floor and lie down on my side, with my back to his. I put a hand under my head, but still, the position is extremely uncomfortable. For a while, we lie in awkward silence, facing opposite directions. There's a little bit of heat emanating from him, for which my bare feet are thankful, but that's not enough. Spooning could be more adequate to keep warm, but I'd rather freeze to death before I do that.

"Asleep?" he asks after a few minutes.

"Yes," I say.

"Just wanted to remind you that without me you won't survive here. So don't try to pull any tricks."

"Will I survive with you?"

With my back, I feel him shrug. "I'll take you back to our base," he says. "I'm not in a position to decide. Maybe we could still exchange you for something."

We both know it's a lie. They can't let me go, not now that I know where their hideaway is. They can only keep me a prisoner or kill me, and why would they waste resources on a prisoner? I wouldn't if I were them.

"Why did you freak out when I said Burnface wants to buy you out?" he says.

"I didn't."

He pauses. "Was always curious, does he really have burns on his face?"

"Not just his face," I say. "Most of his body."

"That's tough. Did he point a fire thrower in his face while cleaning it?"

"No." I speak slowly, imitating a slurred speech of someone on the verge of falling asleep. "A gas cylinder exploded next to him."

"Exploded? Out of the blue?"

"Got hit by a bullet."

"Oh. Fired by?.."

Didn't mean to tell him, but what does it matter? "Fired by me."

The pause stretches longer this time.

"Why?" he says at last. "You two are on the same side, aren't you?"

I don't answer, making sure to breath slowly. He stirs a little, as if to look at me, then settles back to his previous position. After a while, his own breathing slows down, and soon, the soft snoring returns. It's almost funny how the two of us lie there, motionless, pretending to be asleep. This can't go on for the rest of the night, though. Eventually, one of us will fall asleep for real.

And it won't be me.

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