Bad Bloods: November Rain

by Shannon A. Thompson

  My splitting headache was only relieved by the cold wind pushing against it, cooling my temperature like medicine I needed but didn’t have. I pushed my bangs back just to expose my skin more and forced my eyes open as I continued walking, Ryne next to me. Since Robert was clearly following me, I couldn’t risk returning to Old Man Gregory’s, and I definitely couldn’t risk exposure in the main square. It was also the perfect opportunity to test Ryne, the black-haired fire starter who claimed to remember nothing.

  I didn’t have to look at him to know he recognized where we were. Near the edge of the main square, a homeless man had found Ryne nearly beat to death. The boy’s shoulders tensed with every nearing inch.

  “Remember anything?” I asked.

  “No.”

  It was nearly impossible to doubt Ryne, even though my gut begged to. The boy sounded like an adult when he spoke, confident and positive. I knew better.

  “Nothing?” I pressed.

  “Just my name.” Ryne’s fingertips rose to his hairline where more scars hid beneath his hair. “And this corner.”

  It was the first time he confessed to it out loud. “Remember what happened?”

  Ryne’s gaze slid up, a shadow slicing through his vision. It was the look of someone who would snap one day. It was the reason I wanted to keep him around. I needed valuable bloods. Ryne was a fighter, and his sheer focus was as valuable as Kally and Tessa were for supplies. Still, we couldn’t go back to Old Man Gregory’s—not after Robert and his red-eyed minion had followed me—and that left us one option for medicine.

  The main square was hardly a square at all—it was more like a waning moon or half circle—and it connected the southern, western, and northern parts. It was the closest part of the outskirts to the Highlands, the central city of Vendona, and even then, it was far away. People from the outskirts didn’t risk going near the gate. Security increased, and arrests were practically guaranteed. It was the elite’s way of keeping the poor out and the bad blood population low. Even so, from the edge of the main square, bits of the Highlands inched into view.

  Ryne turned away as it came into his line of sight, but within seconds, he faced it again, chin raised, jaw locked. With his complexion and hair, he appeared to be a younger Calhoun, but Ryne managed to seem more destructive. Perhaps it was the fact that he had both arms.

  I laid my hand on his head, something I knew he hated, but he didn’t move away. He spoke instead, “They’re just protecting their way of life.”

  It could’ve been a curse and I would’ve believed it more.

  I roughed up his hair and gave him a slight shove. “Don’t worry about them,” I said. “Just get the medicine and we’ll leave.”

  Ryne didn’t nod, but he disappeared into the crowd in front of us, blending in like any other citizen. I rested against the nearest wall I could find and pressed my temple up against the cold brick. My migraine was unbearable, and it was worse when I coughed. Every muscle inside of me ached, and yet I pushed my concern away. I glared at the looming buildings instead. They swayed in my foggy vision, like colored sunlight off the ocean in Eastern Vendona. If I never had to see the water again, I would be okay. I would be okay one day. The kids would be, too. And hopefully, Henderson would guarantee that. When I glanced at the Highlands again to study the skyscrapers—the reflective windows and gleaming steel and stick-straight grid living—I wished to know which building Henderson resided in. When he looked toward the horizon, I wondered if he could see all of us from his living room. When he woke up in the morning, I wondered what direction he faced. I wondered if he wished to face another way or if he hoped Vendona would tear its walls down one day.

  As far as I knew, and I only knew what Cal explained, Vedona was one among thousands, a simple city-state separated but connected through the Council of States. Citizens weren’t allowed to leave their birthplace unless given special permission. This meant only the rich were afforded the luxury of travel. I doubted there was even a way to apply for transfer from the outskirts. I hadn’t had the time to ask.

  When a car drove by, people darted to the roadsides, and my focus was torn apart by suffocating exhaust. I had to cough again, but my eyes followed the monochrome vehicle. A government car. It was a rare sight in the outskirts, but it was enough to remind myself of why I was standing in an alleyway.

  Ryne hadn’t returned.

  I poked my head out to glance at a shop’s clock, and my stomach twisted when I realized a half of an hour had passed. My head was slugging along more slowly than I thought, but I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I stepped out into the main square and began my search. My eyes moved from person to dog to child to mother to shopkeeper. The faces blended together, and I made it a point not to make eye contact. I didn’t need to be seen or remembered or, God forbid, asked out on a date by a stranger. That had happened once. I didn’t like thinking about it.

  Even though I knew where Ryne was supposed to be, he was still difficult to pick out from the group. Either I had trained him correctly or he was a natural. He blended right into the afternoon shadows, despite the fact that it was a singular shade caused by a light pole. He had the medicine in a bag, but he was outside of the toy store, watching two old men play checkers. Neither noticed their admirer.

  As I went to drag him away, I found myself standing next to him. In Ryne’s other hand was a teddy bear. “I thought Blake would like it,” he said without removing his eyes from the game. “I won’t tell anyone.”

  Spending extra money, especially on one flock member, was forbidden, but Ryne wasn’t one to follow the rules. Even then, he wanted to keep it a secret, though no one would protest Blake’s gift. He was the flock’s baby. The other kids loved doting on the youngest. Blake had never known anything else, and in a way, his positive acceptance was some of the only solace we had.

  I took the teddy bear from Ryne’s hand and nudged him away from the checkers. “Let’s go home.”

  He agreed by walking forward, medicine in hand, and I didn’t bother asking for any. It wasn’t for me, after all. Medicine and I had a hate-hate relationship. Despite my powers inability to heal illness, medicine didn’t work on me either. Not much anyway. When I took it, it burned off quickly and left my system faster, and I became immune to its effects like it was the disease itself. Sickness would be the death of me, but I could protect my flock from catching whatever I had.

  I hunched my shoulders against the cold as I coughed again. Instead of taking the nearest alleyway, I took a different one, and Ryne followed. I had to lean against the wall again. My head spun.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I have one stop,” I muttered, forcing a small smile. “You think you can get back on your own?”

  Ryne glanced from the right to the left. He had never gone anywhere on his own. He was either at home with Michele or traveling with Maggie. This time, he would have to prove himself. He gave one sharp nod to accept the challenge, and before I could ask if he needed directions, Ryne took off toward Shadow Alley.

  My fingernails dug into the wall before I slapped the bricks as hard as I could.

  Violet’s shadow leapt out. She was always following me. She just wasn’t aware I knew.

  “You scared me,” she whined without solidifying. Her dark mass was a spiral of fog, inhuman but with a human’s voice.

  “Get him home safe,” I mumbled back.

  The shadow made a motion I could only interpret as a nod, and she was gone, disappearing into the ground like a slithering ghost. I waited the entirety of five minutes to make sure she had followed Ryne before I made my way to Cal’s.

  I unlocked the door and stuffed the small teddy bear inside my jacket. When I shouted his name, he didn’t respond, so I helped myself. I grabbed a Diet Coke out of the fridge and drank it as fast as I could manage. When I was done, I grabbed another one, but this time, I pressed it to my neck.

  The cool metal brought my fever down, and my focus retu
rned. I needed to ask Calhoun for something, but he didn’t seem to be home. I would have to wait.

  I walked down the hallway until I was in my bedroom, the blue color the very hue of the ocean I hadn’t seen in years. Strangely enough, I didn’t mind when Cal tried to mimic my original home when I moved in, but I preferred the gray clouds of the northern side to the blue water on the eastern side. And the desire to see the color gray only reminded me of Serena.

  She must have stood in my room at some point, but there wasn’t a single sign of her presence, even though I was searching for one. It wasn’t until my eyes landed on my desk that I realized what she must have seen.

  The photo of me as a kid—sitting on Calhoun—with bruises and blood. My only scar was a result of those injuries. It ran down my right shoulder, and it hurt often. Just looking at the photo made my bones ache. But I kept it, and the other photo, this one of a group of kids, as a reminder, even though I doubted I could forget.

  The pain radiated down my spine as a coughing fit consumed me. I leaned on my desk and the photo of fifteen kids fell over. I stared at the back of the frame, but I didn’t touch it. I only breathed. They didn’t need to see me anyway.

  When I caught my breath, I cracked open the drawer. My pistol was still there, but I was surprised to see it. I half-expected Serena to have found it and taken it for protection, but she didn’t, and it stared back at me.

  “Daniel.”

  I slammed the drawer at the sound of my name, and it echoed the way a gunshot would’ve.

  From the doorway, Cal blinked. Before he could manage to speak, I began coughing again. My throat scratched when it was over. “You could’ve announced yourself.”

  “Thought I did.” Cal’s tone was slow, a deliberate shift he held when he was ready to lecture me. “You sick?”

  “No.” My lie was too quick. I sighed and slid into my desk chair.

  “Daniel,” Cal began, “you know our deal.”

  “I’m not sick,” I said while coughing. I couldn’t be ill. “Not now.”

  “It was all that walking in the rain—”

  “I didn’t come to talk about that.” I made a habit of interrupting Cal. He didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he walked across my room and sat on my bed. I spun my chair around to face him.

  His eyes met mine, a smile dancing in them. “What do you need, kiddo?”

  “Serena’s address.”

  The smile in his eyes faltered. “No.”

  “What?”

  “You need to take care of you,” he said as he fiddled with his armless sleeve. “I don’t know what you’re thinking with that girl, but—”

  “She’s in the Southern Flock.”

  I half-expected his jaw to drop, but he rolled his eyes like he spent far too much time with teenagers. “I know.”

  My jaw dropped instead.

  “That’s exactly why I’m not givin’ it to you,” he explained, and if he had two hands, I was sure he would’ve folded them in his lap. “You don’t need to be near Robert.”

  My shoulder burned as if my bones could hear his name. “He’s following me.”

  Calhoun didn’t budge.

  “Has been for a year, minimum,” I added.

  “So, what?”

  “So, what?” I repeated, leaning forward on my knees. “I want to know where he is.”

  “You want to know where she is,” he corrected, “and if she’s in his flock, she’s his problem.” The idea of the two of them together bothered me in the same way the skyscrapers did—too big, too organized, too controlling—but Calhoun obviously saw something else. “You have your own flock to take care of.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t you remember what happened last time you met?” He played my interrupting game well. Robert and I almost beat one another half to death. Even then, I healed and walked away. Robert was left in a pile of his own blood, and I was even. Now, I wasn’t sure which one of us was starting our battle again—him or me. I wanted to protect Serena’s abilities, even if that meant taking her from them, but he was following me, and I doubted she had any clue as to why.

  “She doesn’t need to be in that flock,” I managed through clenched teeth. “She’s powerful.”

  “Which means she can help herself.”

  “She could help us,” I corrected. The election would come, and the Northern Flock would need all the power it could get. Serena was triple the power I ever imagined.

  Calhoun was silent, but only for a moment. “The answer is still no.”

  “We need her help. When it comes time to fight—”

  “Why do you think Henderson will lose?” Calhoun’s tone cut through the air as he stood up, towering over me.

  I remained in my seat. “What?”

  “You’re panicking like the polls are already in.” Never panic. It was one of his rules. “Why don’t you believe in Alec?”

  I blinked, mainly at the fact that Calhoun had used Mr. Henderson’s first name, but I had to collect my thoughts. “It’s only a matter of time before it gets out.”

  “Until what gets out?”

  “He’s a blood,” I said it like it was a fact.

  Cal’s black eyes flicked over me, and then he burst into laughter. He even had to bend over to grab his knee. “Henderson is no bad blood,” he managed as he collected himself, wiping his eyes, the laughter still rocking his chest.

  I glared.

  Calhoun sobered. “Henderson is not blooded,” he corrected his word choice.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “So, what if he is?” Cal asked. “So what” was his favorite phrase. Much like a preteen.

  “Then, we lose and everyone dies.” Even I could hear the panic in my voice. Blake, Tessa, Kally, Peyton, and all the others filled me. Without them, I couldn’t imagine myself.

  Cal was motionless, like the idea never shook him. “And if Henderson isn’t blooded? If he wins?”

  I stared at my hands, now in fists. “We’ll be treated badly,” I said as the realization sank in, over and over again. I always knew it, but every time I thought of it, it felt like a new, terrible acceptance of a reality I would hate. “The discrimination won’t stop. People will still die.” My knuckles twitched, and I unlatched my grip on myself. My palm was white where my fingernails dug in, and one spot of blood pooled out. It solidified before my skin even reattached itself. But this time it hurt more than usual. A lot more. The illness did that to me.

  Cal’s hand landed on my left shoulder, careful not to touch my injured one. “You’re not wrong, Daniel,” he sighed. “But you need to take care of yourself before you can help anyone—no matter the outcome.”

  I coughed like Cal’s words asked for it, but I ducked away and stood up like I could deny it. “My flock is the most important part of my life.”

  Cal’s eyebrows rose. “More important than your own life?”

  I tried to glare at him, but my coughing prevented that. “I’m leaving.”

  He wasn’t going to help. I would have to find Serena on my own, and talking with Cal was wasting my time.

  “You need to rest,” Cal argued as he attempted to step in front of the doorway. I stopped, but only to stoop beneath his arm. He shouted at my back, “At this rate, you’re going to die from exhaustion. Stay here.”

  “I can’t,” I called over my shoulder as I returned to the kitchen to grab one last Diet Coke. “I have to go.”

  Cal didn’t try to stop me this time. “You’ll regret it if you get everyone in the flock sick.”

  “I won’t,” I promised, and I left before he could hear me cough again.