Evenstar (13 page)

“I am in control of this cruise and we are going where
I
say.”
 
Paimon ignored the weak blows Furcas landed on his head.
 
“Stop being a child.”

“Not a child,” Furcas slurred his speech.

Paimon found the type of store he had been searching for.
 
He untied Furcas and leaned him against the storefront.
 
“Stay here.
 
Don’t pick at your face, your chest, just don’t pick at anything.
 
Okay?”

Furcas nodded.
 
Paimon stepped into the general store, leaving him alone.
 
Furcas untied his wrappings, starting at his neck.
 
They were soaked with blood and other fluids, but it wasn’t as bad as the flesh beneath.
 
He gagged at the sight of himself.
 
The pain had settled in his limbs like sleep, dragging him down with weakness, but his mind was clear.
 
He knew his skin was a color that living skin shouldn’t be, and he knew what that meant for his health.

Paimon walked out of the store with two bags in hand.
 
He saw Furcas and nearly chucked the bags.
 
“
What did I say
?
 
Can I not leave you alone for five minutes without you doing something completely stupid?
 
Get your hands out of yourself!”

Furcas held his hands up, but he kept his eyes on his injury.
 

Paimon set his bags aside and re-bandaged him.
 
He slung Furcas over one shoulder and picked up his bags.
 
To their west, the sun hit the horizon, painting the town a reddish hue.

Furcas stared at the sidewalk as Paimon walked.
 
“I think you should leave me.”

Paimon ignored him.

Furcas continued to mumble, “You have to get to Portland.
 
I am slowing you down.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.
 
Besides, Portland’s just a place.
 
I can cause mayhem anywhere.”

“I’m worthless and I am a liability like this.”
 
Furcas shuddered.
 

Paimon set his bags down and flipped Furcas to his feet.
 
He held him up by his armpits and hugged him carefully.
 
“It’ll be okay.”

“No, it won’t.”
 
Furcas struggled not to collapse into sobs.
 
“I’m
dying
, Paimon.”

“Furcas, you’re too stupid to know what dying looks like.”

Furcas squeezed his eye shut.
 
“Just because you’re a genius does not mean I am stupid!”
 
He gulped.
 
“Paimon, I don’t want to die.”

“That’s better.”
 
Paimon leaned back and looked him in the eye.
 
He smiled.
 
“You’ve
never
given up at anything, don’t start now.”
 

Furcas looked at Paimon’s tattered and bloody shirt.
 
He ran a finger weakly across the material.
 
“I got you all messed up.”

Paimon smiled.
 
“Yeah well, I guess you owed me a few.”

Furcas sniffled and managed a small smile.
 
“True.”

Paimon lit a cigarette and stuck it between Furcas’ lips.
 
“I’m glad our roles aren’t switched, I’m pretty sure I would be back in the woods abandoned by now.”
 
He carried Furcas cradled in his arms.

Furcas took a drag and felt better.
 
“No, I’m the attractive one.
 
It’s a travesty when I’m messed up.
 
I probably wouldn’t even notice if you looked like this.”

Paimon grinned.
 
“Glad you’re still yourself, vain prick.”
 
He stopped at a shop and kicked in the door.
 
Paimon looked at those still inside.
 
“
Closing early.
 
Out you go
!”

Furcas stared at the tile floor.
 
“Where are we?”
 
Men and women stumbled past them in a daze.
 
Furcas looked around from his limited perspective.
 
“Why are there dog toys everywhere?”

Paimon did not answer.
 
He carried Furcas into the back room.
 
Stainless steel tubs lined the walls, and tables of varying sizes filled the rest of the space.
 
He set Furcas down on a long table and set his shopping bags on another.
 
He stripped off his coat and shirt.
 
He tossed the dirty clothes in a garbage bag and wiped his bare skin with a wet rag.
 

Furcas eyed Paimon nervously.
 
He finished his cigarette and let it drop to the tile floor.
 
“Paimon, what are we doing at a dog grooming shop?”

Paimon grinned and went to a long tub.
 
He examined the labels on the shampoo bottles.
 
“Do you want to smell like an apple?
 
Maybe mint?
 
No, not mint.
 
Strawberry.
 
I love the smell of strawberries, don’t you?”

Furcas looked at the dog shampoo.
 
“You are joking.”

“No, I don’t think I am.
 
This stuff is industrial grade, perfect for you.”

Furcas leaned back.
 
“That
shit
is not touching my hair.”

Paimon left the bottles.
 
He yanked off Furcas’ shoes and peeled off his socks.
 
“Your hair is full of dirt, blood, and pus.
 
I think this stuff is good enough for that.”

“There’s a salon down the street.”
 
Furcas gulped.
 
“Why can’t we go there?”

Paimon eyed his bag of supplies.
 
“I have things I need to work on and you need a bath, not a haircut.”
 
He threw Furcas’ shoes and socks in the trash.
 
Furcas scooted away.
 
Paimon grabbed his pants and gave them a tug.
 
“You’re going to make this hard on me?”

Furcas sulked.
 
“No.”

“Then stay still.”
 
Paimon ripped off the rest of Furcas’ clothes.
 
He scooped him off the table and set him down in one end of a steel tub.
 
Furcas clung to the lip of the metal; he tried to pull his body out.
 
Paimon pushed Furcas’ hands aside.
 
“You’re wasting strength trying to fight.
 
I’m trying to help.”

Furcas leaned back slowly.
 
He eyed Paimon.

Paimon sliced Furcas’ bandages off and examined the wound.
 
The smell alone would have given away the rot, if the blackened skin didn’t make it obvious.
 
“Damn fucking shit.”
 

Furcas winced.
 
“I
knew
it was bad.”
 

Paimon drummed his hands along the metal.
 
“I’ll be right back.”

Furcas reached for him.
 
“No!
 
Don’t leave me here naked!”

“Why not?
 
You’re invisible.
 
Bye!”
 
Paimon ran out of the store.
 

Furcas stared at his feet.
 
He really wanted another cigarette.
 
He touched his wound and flinched.
 
He ignored the pain and pulled his skin back.
 
His organs were not badly damaged; Michael had missed them with the spear.
 
He sighed.
 
“Small miracles.”
 
The door banged open.
 
Furcas looked up.
 

“Just our luck.”
 
Paimon rushed back inside.
 
“There’s a fishing supply store next door.”

Furcas eyed the package he carried.
 
“Don’t you dare!”

Paimon grinned.
 
He upended a bag of maggots onto Furcas’ chest.
 
Furcas kicked.
 
Paimon held him down.
 
“You’re going to hurt yourself like that.
 
This is for your own good.
 
Now
stop it
.”

Furcas flushed, but went still.
 
“It is beyond foul, degrading, and embarrassing.”

Paimon rolled his eyes.
 
“Oh please, we have done far worse.”

Furcas stared at Paimon, unable to look down at his body.
 
“How long does this take?”

Paimon gave him a small smile.
 
“No idea.”

Furcas hissed.
 
“
Wonderful
.”

Paimon grinned.
 
“Buck up.”

“Fuck you.”

Paimon smirked.
 
“Pity sex isn’t going to make you feel any better about yourself.
 
Well, actually it might, but I doubt you’d live through it.”
 
Furcas stared at the ceiling, not amused.
 
Paimon sighed.
 
“What exactly will make you feel better?
 
I’m trying to get you clean, you
love
being clean!”

Furcas pulled at the bandage on his face.
 
“Let me see my face.”

“No way.”

Furcas ripped the material off and threw it.
 
Paimon gulped at the sight of the damaged eye.
 
Furcas caught his expression.
 
“If not even
you
can look at me I am screwed.”
 
He slumped down into the maggots.
 
“This is what I am reduced to, a maggot beneath everyone’s notice.”

Paimon let go of Furcas’ shoulders.
 
He stripped off his pants and boxers and jumped into the tub with him.
 
He sat down at the other end and tapped at Furcas’ feet with his own.
 
He scooped up maggots and dropped them on his hair.
 
“I’m naked and in a tub full of maggots just for you.
 
Isn’t that funny!
 
Gross isn’t it!”

Furcas ignored him.

Paimon scooped up another handful.
 
“They’re not that bad, kind of cute.”

Furcas’ clenched his jaw.
 

Paimon scratched his head and examined Furcas’ ruined eye.
 
“You obviously
want
to be angry with me.”

“Yes!”

“Then I’m going to let you be angry.”

“Good.”
 
Furcas sniffed.

“Right.”
 
Paimon dove for Furcas and straddled him before Furcas could move.
 
Paimon grabbed Furcas by his hair.
 
“Prepare to get angrier.”
 
He shoved Furcas’ head down to the bottom of the basin.
 
He scooped maggots onto his face.
 
Furcas clawed at his arms.
 
He ignored the pain.
 
“This is for your own good, Furcas.
 
Your eye is
nasty
, that shit is dead and infected.”

Furcas couldn’t say anything; opening his mouth would have had dire consequences.
 
He strained against Paimon with every ounce of strength he had, but he couldn’t move him an inch.
 
Minutes passed.
 
Paimon lifted him up.
 
He brushed the maggots off Furcas’ face.
 
“Much better I think.”
 

Furcas was too angry to speak.
 
His eye burned blue.

“Definitely better.”
 
Paimon checked Furcas’ chest and neck.
 
He picked off the remaining maggots and jumped out of the tub.
 
He reached in and lifted Furcas out.
 
He moved him to a second tub.
 
“No more maggots.”

Furcas tucked his legs into his chest.
 
He rested his face on his knees.
 
“I hate you.”

“Skin free of gangrene, there’s just so much to hate about that.”
 
Paimon turned the water on and tested it on his arm, getting the temperature just right.
 
He pulled the hose over and put it on its lightest setting.
 
Paimon upended a bottle of strawberry shampoo on Furcas’ head and leaned him back to keep the soap off his cuts.
 
He hummed while he washed.
 
Furcas closed his eye and did not speak.

It took Paimon and hour to get all of the grime off Furcas’ body and hair.
 
He drained the soapy water and lifted Furcas out of the tub.
 
He wrapped him in a dozen white fluffy towels and set him on a countertop.
 
Paimon gave himself a quick rinse and dried off with what was left over.
 
He rifled through his first shopping bag, mostly new clothing.
 
He dressed himself quickly and unfolded Furcas’ new clothes.