Less than an hour later we were hiking through the forestry. Damian was taking the lead, almost behaving like a tour guide as he shared interesting information about the wildlife that lived throughout Blackthorn Campground. There was a passion to his voice, an energy that was felt with every gesture and look. He had become a changed man, as if the beauties of nature had stirred something deep inside him.
Damian’s steps were light and confident as he walked up the dusty brown trail. I trailed close behind him, enjoying the deep sonorous sound to his voice and the cool autumn breeze that gently blew against my face. I felt on overwhelming sense of peace here, and by the happy glow of Damian’s face, I knew he shared a similar feeling.
“In my past life I was an accountant,” he explained, “but life took a new turn and I wound up here.”
We were trailing over a smooth pathway, a sharp contrast to the one we would eventually find in the woods. “But I like this job,” he admitted. “It is peaceful here … quiet.”
“Lonely though.”
“At times,” he confessed. “Sometimes I think I’m going to go mad,” he laughed as he rested his hand over his gun strap. “But I think its natural considering the circumstances.”
I unzipped my outer jacket, aware of how overheated I was becoming because of the harshness of the sun. Damian’s eyes followed my movements, and soon he did the same to his black coat. “Give me a sec,” I begged of him, stopping in my tracks to pull down his borrowed backpack to stuff my fluffy toque and scarf inside of it. “I’m overdressed.”
“It was cooler earlier,” he noted, as his eyes watched a chipmunk that scuttled across the narrow pathway. “It will get hotter by noon.”
“Oh.”
“I tend to take naps during that time.”
“Such luxury.”
“I have trouble sleeping at night,” he admitted with a lost look about him. “It’s the nightmares,” Damian lightly teased, before he undid his scarf and handed it to me. “Do me a favour and stick this in the bag as well.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” He bent down and pulled out his reusable water bottle from the side pouch of the bag and took a deep mouthful. “We can fill this up by the river.”
“Is it safe?”
“Perfectly safe,” he assured me, before handing me the bottle. “Try it?”
“You took it from the river?”
“No, I want you to compare the two,” he explained. “Taste the difference.”
I took a sip, and then another one since Damian was keenly watching me. A small shrug of his shoulders was his sole answer before I handed the water back to him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said out of the blue.
“Thanks?” I said with pure confusion, wondering where this all came from.
“Yeah.” He rose to his feet, and then let out a long exhale as he looked down the far distant path. “We should keep moving.”
“I’m not tired,” I assured him, after I pulled the backpack over my shoulders. “Let’s go.”
***
By the time we climbed up the first set of hills I was exhausted and pulled on Damian’s sleeve to get him to stop. “I can’t.”
“Tired?”
“Let me take a breather.”
He smiled at me kindly, and then motioned for me to turn around to pull something out of the backpack. A small hand sewn blanket of red and white was unearthed from the bottom of the bag and he laid it out neatly on a rough patch of grass. Damian took a seat first, letting his eyes hover over the tops of the trees. “Not much of a view here.”
“I know you wanted to take me to the falls.”
“You aren’t used to this,” he surmised. “But this is my life.” He closed his eyes to breathe in the air, letting the cold autumn breeze tousle through his dark curly hair. The stubble along his jawline was darker this morning; shaving was completely off the table as of now, not unless I had something to say about it. Damian looked divinely peaceful, so I decided to hold my tongue and reach for our shared water bottle instead. “Focus.”
“On what?”
“Everything,” he breathed once he opened his eyes. “On this moment.”
I looked around in a taunting manner, knowing he would not like it one bit.
“Really take it in,” he entreated.
“You’re a hippie, Damian.”
“I’m not a hippie.”
“Take it in,” I repeated with a naughty grin. “What am I supposed to take in?”
“The scent of the earth,” he told me as he pointed at the wild grass in front of our shoes. “The distant sound of the waterfall. The eagle that flies through the sky.” He noticed my amused grin, and simply glared at me. “Or be like everyone else and not enjoy it.”
“You belong out here,” I told him. “In the wilderness.”
“It is not like I have a choice,” he admitted to himself, “but I make the most of it.”
I kissed the side of his cheek unexpectedly, but moved back once I sensed he wanted something more. “Why did you kiss me that way in your kitchen earlier?”
“I don’t understand.”
“It was different from all the other ones before.”
“I told you why … I know what I want.”
“Yeah, but …” He batted his eyes at me curiously, uncertain where our conversation was going.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“It was different,” was the only thing I could stammer out. “You were different.”
“If you don’t want me to kiss you then—”
“That’s not what I am trying to say,” I interjected. “I feel like there are different sides to you and I am trying to figure it out. You were meek when I first met you, no, frigid … cold.” He lowered his gaze as if I wounded him. “And as the evening drew on you became more confident, and now … I don’t know what to make of you.”
“How you ever thought that maybe I am opening up to you more?”
“You keep changing,” I told him. “It is like there are two of you in there.”
“Two of what?”
“I don’t know.”
Damian closed his eyes with regret, and then lowered his head with grief. I sensed his troubled thoughts, so I lifted a hand to rub it along his upper spine, smoothing it over his shoulders to make him feel better.
“I know what you mean,” he relayed softly.
“It doesn’t bother me. I only wanted to know the reason behind it.” I moved forward so my face was close to his. “And why you kissed me like that in the kitchen.”
A smile escaped him, as if recent memories were suddenly flooding back to him.
“Overpowering me in that way,” I explained. “Dominant.”
“An alpha male,” he chuckled under his breath.
“Yeah, and you aren’t like that.”
He turned his gaze in my direction, letting it sink into my pale blue eyes. “I could be.”
“With that gun attached to your hip I guess you are.”
“It’s used for emergencies.”
“Like what?”
“I already told you outside of my house.”
“What animal can attack us in broad daylight, Damian?”
“It’s more of something happening.” He licked his lips nervously. “I’ll feel safer with the gun on me.”
“How many guns do you have?” I interrogated him. “And knives?”
He swallowed hard, looking nervous suddenly.
“You would never hurt me, would you?” I asked in a trembling voice. “I don’t know you so well, the number of weapons I’ve been seeing is kind of alarming.”
“Protection.”
“From what?”
“These forests are very old, Sara.” He stopped himself, and let his eyes graze over the distant horizon, taking in the tops of the pine trees. “Sacred.”
“For whom?”
“To some people,” he relayed with uneasiness. “I feel safe here, but at the same time I know the dangers that lurk in these forests.” He inched his face closer. “And not even I can protect you from some of them.”
“What are you hiding from me, Damian?” I demanded. “My friend, Ashley, told me last night that people get mauled to death here. What is it?” Damian had moved his head back, frowning suddenly. “You know something, don’t you?”
“I know it’s not safe to be here out at night,” he told me in a steely voice, “and if people are too stupid to listen to my instructions, I feel no pity for them.” Damian sharply turned his head to me, wearing a dangerous look that startled me. “Let them die.”
“They are human beings.”
“They know the dangers here.”
“Damian.”
He licked the bottom of his lips unexpectedly, and then used the tips of his fingers to partially cover his mouth. “I need water,” he said as an excuse, and guzzled half of the bottle down like there was no tomorrow. He sprung up to his feet suddenly, complaining he had to piss and sauntered off into the forest to give himself some space.
Ashley is right, I reflected. He really is a nutter.
I seized the quiet moment to investigate his bag, seeing another first-aid kit in a tiny box at the bottom. There was a hunting knife stealthily shielded in a side pocket and a rolled-up piece of linen that was curious.
If Damian wanted to kill me, he has the right weapons to do it.
Damian isn’t a murderer though, but how can I be so sure of it?
What if he is bipolar, I thought, but sensed he hadn’t displayed such symptoms.
There was that anti-depressant bottle.
I closed the bag and pretended I was staring out into the distance once I heard his boots pounding on the solid ground. It had not escaped me that there were no traces of the brown dust on his shoes this morning, unlike the footprints that he left on the staircase and the small front porch of his house.
What if he lied to me, I wondered, and he really didn’t take a walk this morning?
But there was dirt left at the bottom of his bathtub, I remembered, and tried to recall if I saw any footprints throughout his house. He has a mat at the front, I reflected, Damian could have easily dusted off his feet there.
“Sara,” immediately broke through my thoughts. “You look worried.”
“Do I?”
His voice was full of concern as he emphasized, “Yes, you do.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry about what happened to those people, but they knew the risks of coming here. In fact, those are the kind of people that go out of their way to look for trouble.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I am usually the one that finds their dead bodies in the morning.” He dropped down to the ground and took a close seat next to me. “All I have to do is look up at the sky and see a ring of vultures and know …”
“That someone’s been killed.”
“That there is a feast left for them.”
I turned my gaze away from him and let my fingers glide over the front of my hiking shoes. “How often does it happen?”
“Not that often.”
“How often?”
“At least once every month,” he deliberated aloud. “It’s worse in the summer season.”
“So, it’s normal here.”
“Normal enough.”
“They should close this place down,” I deliberated aloud with lowered eyebrows.
“They’ve been trying too,” Damian assured me. “But this place generates a lot of money, and besides, people flock here when they hear how dangerous it can be.”
“Why do you stay here?”
“It’s my home,” he told me as he raised a hand to reveal the expansive forestry around us.