by Keri Lake
He jerks his head, taking the lead down the hallway, and I peek into one of the rooms where a young girl sits at a table, in a flowered hospital gown, coloring. When she looks back at me, her eyes are bloodshot, her skin the signature, mottled appearance of a Rager. But where the infected tend to have a soulless vacancy, hers are innocent, brimming with curiosity.
“You’ve found a cure for the Dredge?”
“No. I’ve found a means of reversing some of the tissue damage. Dredge is a prion fused with a virus. Its mode of destruction is misfolded proteins. I’ve designed a process of regenerating that damaged tissue, filling those spongy gaps in the brain. It’s had some success, though at a much slower rate than its destructive opponent.”
“So, why would they keep you down here?” I ask, following after them once more.
“Because no one is interested in the cure,” Titus answers for him.
Doctor Levin glances over his shoulder, lips flattened. “It’s true. At this point, I’m grateful they give me any equipment, at all. And I’ll happily take the dungeon lab, if it means I get to continue my work.” Attention switching to me, he gives a onceover that leaves me frowning. “You’re with these Alphas by choice?”
“Yes,” I say, without hesitation. “Completely.”
Nodding, he turns his attention back toward the path ahead. “You’re aware of the dangers of Alpha pregnancy?”
While I appreciate what I believe is just a friendly warning, it feels like the time my father tried to inquire about Will and I when we were teenagers. “Yes. I’m aware.”
“I don’t mean to pry. I used to work as a surgeon for the Alpha female project back at Calico.”
“Were you there when it shut down?”
“No,” he says over his shoulder. “I left long before then. Wasn’t cut out for destroying a woman’s body in the name of science. I’d been trained to heal. Doctor Ericsson, who led the study, was the prick of all pricks, and seeing those girls go through days, weeks, years of agonizing treatments was too much. There’ve been a number of advancements in this facility, but the end result is the same.”
“How did you know my father?” We pass a small, dark room on the left, flanked by a wall of glass that shows objects I’ve grown familiar with in an operating room. Much smaller than the OR’s at Szolen, where Nan sometimes had to deliver a baby due to complications.
The doctor’s chuckle reverberates off the walls. “We grew up together. Two of us joined the army around the same time. Different reasons, of course. Your father dreamed of a lifelong military career. I dreamed of cutting bodies open for a living.”
“That’s macabre.” Perhaps it’s the surrounding chill of the tunnel, but when we finally reach a door at the opposite end, I’m grateful for the exit sign overhead.
Hand on the door, he twists to face me and sets his hand on my shoulder. “Your father saved my ass a dozen times when this shit show went down. I’d have been roaming the desert in search of human brains, if not for him. Helping you is the least I can do to repay the favor. This door lets out to the northern end of the property, beneath the gate. It was designed as an escape route, at my request. The only ones aware of it are the architects who built the lab.”
“Thank you for this, Doctor Levins.”
“Godspeed.”
He swings open the door to a ladder, and hands off his flashlight to me.
Titus takes the lead this time, and at the first beams of light, when he opens the hatch, I give another sharp nod toward the doctor and follow after Titus, with Atticus bringing up the rear.
The hatch spits us out into the forest, as Doctor Levins said, where Legion hasn’t yet infiltrated. The four of us hustle through the woods, back toward the west entrance.
Congregated halfway to the vehicles is Lilith and a smaller group of the women.
Screams and the scent of smoke and fire draw my attention to flames beneath Mother Chilson’s feet, where she’s tied by her wrists to one of the tree branches overhead.
“You intend to leave her that way?” I ask, imagining the horrific pain of being burned alive.
“If she’s worthy, I’m certain her God will save her. If she’s not, then …” Lilith shrugs, the corner of her lips kicking up with a smile. “We have to hurry. They’ve dispatched more Legion officers. The smoke will draw them away from the other entrance.”
When her eyes fall on Atticus, they seem to light up with the same fascination she’s shown toward Titus. She jogs ahead of the group, taking the lead, and I keep the boy tucked close beside me, guiding him over the fallen branches and bracken, as we make our way to the other vehicles parked at the west end of the property. At the crest of a hill, Lilith lowers to her knee and signals all of us to stop. Taking careful steps, we kneel down beside her, to find a group of armed men wandering the woods below, on the other side of the hill. Only just beyond them, the trucks await for our escape from this place.
“I saw a few vehicles parked back at the convent. We could head back that way.”
“No.” Titus backs himself down the hill and pushes to his feet. “Legion has already arrived. I’ll lead these men toward the north end and circle back to the main road. Don’t wait for me, though.”
“No. No!” I keep my voice low, but stern enough for Titus to pick up on the frustration in my tone.
“We don’t have time.” He performs a quick check of his weapons, tugging the same blade he’s carried since we left Remus’s camp from a holster he must’ve found at the cabin. “This place will be crawling with Legion. Take the boy and Atticus.”
“I’m coming with you,” Atticus argues.
“You’ll slow me down and make too much noise. Alone, I can take light steps and throw them off the path.” Titus unhooks Atticus’s arm from his neck and sets it around Lilith’s instead, then twists toward me. “Get to the truck. No matter what happens, you make sure you get out of here.” He grips my face, and the irritation of this, the lack of options, brings tears to my eyes.
“What if we fight them, instead?”
“They outnumber what’s left of us three times over.” He presses his lips to mine, and a terrifying feeling creeps into my chest. Uncertainty. For the first time since I’ve been with Titus, I don’t know what the outcome will be. The hope I’ve clung to is lost to fear.
“I’m afraid.”
“Remember what I said about fear and courage.” It must be written on my face that his response doesn’t make me feel better, because he brushes his finger across my cheek, a look of assurance hardening his fiery eyes. “I won’t engage them, I promise you. I’m just leading them away.”
“But if they find out you’re an Alpha, they’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”
“I’ll have plenty of cover in these woods. They’ve no idea what I am. As far as they know, I died in Remus’s camp. I’ll see you on the other side. Now go.” Not a second later, he takes off in the opposite direction, toward the north end of the building, making his way down the hill on the outskirts of the men below us.
The crackling sound seems to draw their attention, as some of them raise their guns in his direction. Most of the men head in that way, leaving only three behind guarding the trucks, perhaps awaiting our return. With a nudge, Lilith leads us the opposite way, rounding the other side.
Two of the men lift their guns, as if hearing our footsteps, before edging toward half the group that continues down the path. Lilith, Atticus, the boy, and I approach the guards from behind, taking careful steps so as not to rouse their attention. I slide one of the blades out of my satchel. Once close enough, I throw it, just as Titus taught me, nailing one of the men right between his shoulders. As he grunts and turns, reaching behind his head, the other twists around and fires a shot that whizzes past. I toss another blade, this one hitting the man in the gut. When the first soldier raises his gun, I reach for another blade, but one of the members from our group who ventured along the opposite path beats me to it and slides a knif
e across the man’s throat from behind. The injury of the second guard allows Atticus to hobble toward him and finish him off with a snap of the guard’s neck.
“Where’s the third?” Lilith asks, scanning the surroundings.
The woman who sliced the guard’s throat wipes the blood on his clothes and shoves the blade into a side holster at her hip. “He took off toward the road.”
“Load up. We don’t have much time.”
Taking careful footsteps toward him, I stare down at the man on the ground. There’s a familiarity about him that I can’t quite figure. I know him, though, and images pass through my mind in rapid succession trying to place his face.
My memories pause on a man with his arm drawn back, seconds before he hurls a rock.
The bird.
“Oh, God,” I whisper, while the icy tendrils of realization creep up the back of my neck. “One of Remus’s men. Why is he here? What is he doing here?”
“Who’s Remus? What does that mean?”
Heart slamming against my ribs, I shove the boy toward Lilith, but he boomerangs back into my chest, wrapping his arms around me. “Take him! Take him! I have to warn Titus!”
“Warn him of what?”
“Remus!”
“Who is Remus?”
“The man who nearly killed him!” The man who could kill him with a single, poisonous dart. I give a harder shove than I intend, hoping the boy can see the unspoken apology in my eyes when he looks back at me, his own eyes wide with shock.
The crack of gunfire skates down my spine, and I snap my head in the direction of the north woods where Titus went.
“No. You’re not going after him. He said to leave. No matter what.”
“Fuck off. I am going after him.”
“I’ll go.” Atticus stumbles toward me, grunting with some unseen pain as he rests his hand over his ribs.
Shaking my head, I brush my hand across my bag, jangling the remaining knives held inside. “You’re injured and weak right now.”
Another shot rings out. And another.
In the front pocket of my satchel, I feel for the vial of lobelia that I stuffed there, and as I lurch in that direction, a hand grips my wrist. Growling, I spin to face Lilith, who promptly releases me.
“Be careful. We’ll wait for you.”
“Don’t bother.”
Keeping low, I take light steps back up the hill, heading in the same direction I saw Titus go, and at the distant sound of shouts and voices, I lower to hands and knees, crawling over the brush to take shelter behind a tree. In a clearing below, Titus lies curled on his side, before turning over onto his knees and crawling to get away from the men who stand around him. Among them, I recognize the blond curls of Remus, who tips his head as he crouches alongside Titus. The gasps of breath tell me Titus has been shot with those poisonous darts. Nothing else could leave him so debilitated.
“Tell me where she is, or I will watch you die a slow and painful death.” The sound of Remus’s voice hits the back of my neck like a cold brush of death.
“Fuck … you.”
Twisting toward his men, he gives a nod, and two of them step forward, seizing each of Titus’s arms.
Weak with poison, he throws a swing that misses, as they grapple to take hold of him. Two more men jump in and hold Titus’s arms outstretched, while the Alpha struggles to stay up on knees that seem to buckle beneath him as his muscles slowly fail him.
“Tell me where she is.”
Instead of answering, Titus chuckles and spits in Remus’s face.
Holding up a knife, Remus tips his head as he twists it in front of the panting Alpha. “I thought, for sure, you’d keep her close to your side. I find it hard to believe you’d separate yourself from her.”
Like a snake, Remus strikes, stabbing Titus somewhere I can’t see from where I’m crouched, but the tortured wheeze of an outcry that follows sends a wave of agony beating through me. Exertion has Remus’s shoulders bunched, his arms fidgeting, elbows jerking with the task. Titus’s arms tremble. His knees buckle beneath him. When Remus steps away, he seems to be out of breath with the toil, and I clap a hand over my mouth to cap a scream when I catch sight of Titus. Blood oozes from an open socket where his eye used to be, and Remus tosses the cut flesh into the forest.
Remus scans over the surroundings, as if he’s searching for something, and it’s then I realize that he knows I’m watching.
Nausea gurgles in my stomach, and before I can stop myself, I expel my last meal onto the forest bed. Muscles quaking with fear, I look back to see if Remus, or his men, heard me, but the way they don’t so much as glance in my direction tells me they didn’t.
Tears fill my eyes, every cell in my body begging me to go to Titus.
The Alpha’s chest jerks and twitches, as his lungs begin to shut down.
Go to him!
“Make no mistake, I will leave you here to die.” Remus circles Titus, never taking his eyes off the surrounding woods.
Titus shakes his head, but I get a sense it’s a directive for me, not for Remus. He doesn’t want me to make myself known. Both hands covering my face, I sob into my palms. Seconds tick away, chipping at my patience, while Remus stands with his hands tucked behind his body.
Waiting.
“Very well.” He raises his hand, and one of his men fires a shot that sends Titus crashing to the ground. The guards abandon the Alpha, letting him gasp and choke for air, and the moment they’re no longer in sight, I shuffle from my hiding spot toward him. Even at the risk of being seen and captured, I will not let him die.
I will not.
Falling to my knees, I gather his head into my lap and rifle through my bag for the lobelia.
“Hang on, Titus,” I say through sobbing, and wipe away the tears blurring my vision. Every cell in my body quakes with fear, churning a nauseous tremor in my stomach.
The sound of approaching footsteps paralyzes my muscles, and I turn to find Remus and all his men standing behind me, guns aimed down at me.
Remus shakes his head, dragging his clawed finger across his chin. “Stubborn woman. You’re much stronger than I am. If that were Agatha, I’d have given myself up much sooner. Spared her the pain and suffering.”
“Fuck you.” As he talks, my fingers continue padding around the satchel in search of the vial, until the bag is ripped from my shoulder by one of the guards. “Give it back! He’s going to die!”
“Yes. He is. That’s the tragedy in all of this. Had you turned yourself over, he might’ve lived.”
“Remus … I will do whatever it is you want. I will go wherever you want me to go. Please just let me save him. Please!”
“Whatever I want?”
“I swear it.”
Flicking his fingers, he directs the guard to hand off the bag, and he rifles through the pockets, before producing the vial of Lobelia. “Is this what will save his life?”
“Yes. Please.” I reach out a trembling hand to him, and he lurches forward to set it into my palm. Just out of my grasp, he tosses the vial over his shoulder.
“No!” I jump to my feet for it, and the guards take hold of me. With a hard swing, I crack one of them in the face and follow the punch with a kick to his balls.
A cold smack sends me tumbling to the ground. A boot slams into my stomach, curling me into myself. Another plows into my back, the pain rattling up my spine.
Titus grunts and wheezes, clawing at the ground for me.
I crawl over the dirt toward him. “Titus …” Our fingertips only just touch when he collapses, his whole body going still. “Titus?” I frown at his lack of movement. That he doesn’t rouse when I say his name. A bleak, snaking reality slithers over my neck. The air in my lungs turns thick, so thick, I can’t breathe. “Titus?”
Nothing. Not a single flicker of life.
Sounds that echo through the forest are my misery ripping free from my chest. The whole world seems to stop spinning, and I’m frozen in this moment.
>
The rough, calloused surface of his fingertip brushes over mine. Hands, so worn and tired and mutilated, that touched me with such reverence. They don’t so much as twitch now.
Memories rewind to the day I first saw him, walking into the arena. How magnificent he was. So much bigger than the world around me, even then. So much stronger.
A cold hollow in my chest expands across my ribs, and I shake my head in disbelief.
No. Not Titus.
Arms reach for me, trying to drag me from him, but I push them away. I want to curl up beside him, fall asleep and never wake.
The hands grip harder, the ground ripping into my knees as forces outside of us try to tear us apart.
Forces stronger than me.
He’s gone. My Titus. My Alpha.
My love.
“Rest now, my brave soldier. Forevermore,” I whisper to him, as if we’re the only ones here. As if the other men don’t stand over me in mocking laughter.
As if my words are a promise.
Chapter 39
I believe the heart breaks in stages.
All at once would kill us. Knowing this, Nature shields the majority of pain behind denial and false hope, so that only a fissure actually touches the heart. It’s over several hours, days, when reality begins to settle in, the hope fades, and the full weight of agony bears down on the fragile organ, crushing us with the truth. And by then, we’re so lost in misery, we hardly notice the lack of breath. The emptiness. The endless void that pulls us to the very depths of despair.
Weak with thirst and exhaustion, I stare off into the pitch black cell, where I’ve been kept for an indeterminate amount of time, with no food. No water. No light. The stench of death clings to the air, and my guess is, they stuffed me away in a cell where something recently died. The Rager. Maybe Lindsay. I have no idea where they’ve kept me.
Every second in this hell, my mind has tormented me with the final moments of Titus. It’s hard to tell if the images inside my head are those of dreams, or waking moments, as darkness never lifts.
