Requiem for a Soldier (Requiem #1)

Chapter 17: Discord

April 19

Tayja

I roll onto my back again so I can stare up at the wide-open sky. It's so beautiful out here. The air is a little chilly, but I'm warm lying in the sun wearing the jacket Ryan bought me. The sky is the purest blue I think I've ever seen. The snow-capped mountains in the distance are picturesque. Thick forest borders both sides of the river, full of black spruce trees that look like very tall, skinny Christmas trees. The sounds of rushing water and forest life drift to my ears.

"Giving up so soon?" Ryan asks, a rare grin tugging at the left side of his mouth.

"I think the fish made their preferences clear," I say, shifting my gaze to the fish Ryan has caught. When I finally managed to catch one, Ryan said it was too small and that I had to throw it back. "Besides, I don't want to clean out fish guts." I make a face.

"I'd do that for you if you find it so offensive."

I smile at him. He looks back at the river.

"Do you ever go swimming?" I ask.

He turns to look at me. "Here?" he asks, blue eyes wide.

"Yeah?" I say, confused and frustratingly, a little flustered by those mesmerizing blue eyes.

"This is a glacier-fed river. You'd probably freeze to death before you made it to the other side," he says.

"Oh."

"Don't fall in," he says.

Ryan returns his attention to his fishing rod and me to the scenery. Out here, I feel a sense of peace and calm that I haven't felt in a long time. I remember what Ryan told me last week, that everyone on Earth thinks I'm dead. My demise was announced on the news. No one will be looking for me anymore. I might actually be safe now.

That realization has taken a very long time to sink in. Even though the men hunting me down must have given up now, the nightmares won't go away. I don't know if they ever will. But at least I'll never have to live one of those nightmares ever again. I'm safe now. I don't have to be afraid anymore.

I close my eyes as I begin to hum a song that comes to mind. It's a tune written for a lyrical poem penned long ago about a river in Scotland the poet loved. It was one of the first songs I learned to play on the guitar back in elementary school. I've always been better at playing music than singing, but after humming a few bars of the melody, I can't resist singing the opening lines.

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes,

Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays;

My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream,

Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream.

I open my eyes again to see Ryan looking at me, his eyes a little wide.

"You have a good voice," he says.

I can already feel myself blushing. "I'm not that great. My sister though, she's..."

I stop talking as I remember the last time I heard my little sister's voice. She wasn't singing. She was screaming. I sit up and hug my knees to my chest. I feel tears sting in my eyes. A strong, gentle hand comes to rest on my shoulder. I bury my face in my arms and sob once. Twice. Three times. I take deep breaths until I can breathe normally without my throat closing up.