West - Page 63/183

"No. Only us." He shook out his shoulders. "Where did you come from that you can hear them?"

"It's a really long, complicated story."

"Very well." He tossed me a canteen and then settled a pot over the fire. "I will make us dinner while you tell me this story."

Dinner? I almost laughed. But didn't. "It's kind of crazy," I said. "I don't think you want to hear it."

"Crazy," he repeated. "Perhaps we share a spirit." A ghost of a smile crossed his features.

Not a chance. I definitely wasn't his kind of crazy.

"Speak!" he ordered.

I jumped once more. Seeing his mind, knowing about his solitude and fearing him as I never had anyone else, I made a swift decision to tell him the truth. Because no one would believe him if he shared it, and I didn't want to end up buried in his cave.

"I'm from the future," I started.

He glanced up from gutting the rabbit without otherwise reacting.

Slowly, I began to speak, as much out of fear as nervousness and the slim hope that if I made it until dawn, maybe someone would send a search party out for me. I told him everything from when my parents died to what I did in college and how I met Carter and my mission here in his time. My life was relatively mundane until Carter.

Fighting Badger listened while prepping a stew. He settled back to let the food cook and watched me as I spoke.

"… and that's it," I finished. "Sound crazy?"

"No."

Why was I relieved by his response? "You can't tell anyone what I told you, though. It has to be our secret."

He nodded. "Running Bear would not start a war," he added. "He is very kind."

"Would you?" I asked.

Fighting Badger appeared pensive. "This is my home. The spirits could not go with me if I left them. I would have to collect more."

"Oh, Jesus no!" I exclaimed before I could stop myself. "But I think you're right. You should stay here and not start a war."

Rather than appear angered, he was amused by my outburst. "You are the first who has spoken to me without believing me crazy."

"I do think you're crazy," I replied. "But not because you can hear the spirits."

He seemed to find that funny. I didn't know why. I wanted to tell him he was a psycho lunatic, and yet, I found myself connecting with him over a skill neither of us was able to share with anyone else. That I had something in common with a serial killer was one of the greatest surprises of my life.