I squeeze his hand, but he keeps talking, lost in his thoughts. “I spent a lot of time thinking ‘This is not what I signed up for. It’s not fair. I got tricked.’ That’s bullshit. I joined the army. This was what I signed up for. Yes, I didn’t want to see combat. I wanted to support the troops in other ways. But if I had to fight, and I whined about it, did that mean I thought I was better than them? That I deserved to have better? Safer? Easier?”
He shakes his head. “People talk about soldiers, about cops. They disagree with war. They disagree with how we handle crime. That’s fine. You know what? I agree. But someone still has to do the job. It’s better if it’s someone like us, someone who gives a damn. Someone who’s going to feel it.”
He looks over at me. “Feeling it’s not a bad thing, Casey. It just sucks that we have to. It really, really sucks.”
I lean against his shoulder. “It does. Thanks. I did sign up for this. And I hope it always hurts. That I always second-guess and wonder whether I had another option. With Val, it feels like I didn’t stop to process. I think that’s the worst. It feels like it did with Blaine. No thought; just reaction.”
“And if you could go back?” he asks softly.
“Honestly?” I exhale. “I’m glad I didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t pure reaction. I understood the situation and realized I had a split second to respond. If I’d stopped to think it through more, she’d have taken Eric, and when she was done with him, she’d have killed him. I have no doubt of that.”
“Then you made the right choice.”
“Unless he could have gotten away. He probably could—”
Anders puts his hand over my mouth. “Nope. Don’t go there. There are always questions. We see every possibility. What if Eric could have escaped? What if Val had a sudden change of heart? What if a grizzly got her? Mountain lion? Or maybe the heavens would open and God would strike her down with lightning because she deserved to die, and Eric’s a good guy who doesn’t.”
I laugh softly. “I’ve never actually seen that last one, unfortunately.”
“Me neither. That’s why I’m an atheist. There are always ‘what-if’ scenarios, Casey. You know that. You also know that you had to shoot Val. Doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.”
“I know.” I give his hand another squeeze before dropping it. “So how are you doing? We haven’t had much time to talk.”
“Doing okay. Too busy to do much thinking. Or much drinking, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You know it’s not.”
“It’s not really what you’re asking, but it kinda always is, a little. You worry. I appreciate that. I’m doing fine. Could use some downtime to sit and process, you know? When this is over, I propose a day of spelunking. Leave Eric behind and just get out, take some time to clear our heads.”
Before I came to Rockton, Anders used to sneak off to do exactly that. Go caving by himself. Spend time in the absolute darkness and the absolute silence. Spend time being himself, dealing with what he’s seen, what he’s done. These days, I’ve convinced him to take me—at least for safety—and he does.
I nod. “We’ll do that.”
“Onward then?” He waves ahead. “Are we ready for this?”
“Ready to see two bodies that have been left to the elements and scavengers for four days? Who isn’t ready for that?”
He smiles and shakes his head.
“You don’t have to be,” I say. “Ready, that is. You can skip this.”
“I volunteered. Had to argue to get the job too, with you and Eric so eager to protect my delicate sensibilities.”
“We just—”
“I know. Now let’s get these bodies home.”
He waves for me to lead the way. I do steel myself as I walk through into the clearing. It’s not the condition of the bodies that will bother me. I’ve seen worse. Saw it on my very first day in Rockton, with a mangled corpse.
But Anders is right. This isn’t about seeing a body. It’s about seeing Val. Seeing a woman I knew, a woman I tried to help, a woman I shot, slumped on the earth, brains splattering the trees, blood soaking the earth, body ravaged by the elements and every hungry beast that has passed this way.
Oh, yeah. I knew exactly what I was about to see. I could picture it in vivid Technicolor detail.
I still had to see it, though. Had to face it. Anders is right in that, too. I signed up for this, and that’s not saying I wanted this—it’s saying that I accepted the very real possibility that Blaine Saratori wouldn’t be the only ghost hovering in my mind’s darkest corners. That he might not even loom the largest.
He still does, though. For now. I can take comfort in that. That seems an odd word to use, but it is comforting in its way. Val’s death weighs lighter than Blaine’s. The hostiles I had to shoot in combat weigh lighter still. Things like this should not be compared on a scale, but they are, for people like me. For people like Anders. Those who’ve had to kill. And those who’ve killed when they didn’t have to.
Val falls on the middle of that scale, yet she does slide just enough to the “had to” side that there’s no danger of me slipping back into that dark hole where I had been after Blaine. This is a temporary hollow, where I’ll lie for a while, bruised but still able to function.