Prey (The Shade Chronicles Book 1)

by T. K. Bradley

  I step towards the draped table. “This is Amanda Drake.”

  “Was,” Lori corrects me. “It was Amanda Drake.”

  I nod slowly. “Was,” I agree.

  I won’t pull back the sheet, Lori doesn’t need to see the waxy skin or the way the muscles sag across the cheekbones. It’s obvious that Amanda isn’t just sleeping.

  “What did you need to show me?” Lori says, a bite to her voice. She’s angry with me, but it’s not like I’m showing this to her just for kicks. I’m not trying to impress her; I’m trying to scare her.

  I reach beneath the sheet and pull out Amanda’s wrist. Lori’s breath catches in her throat, stuttering past her lips in a sharp pant.

  “What the fuck?” She can’t look away. Tentatively, she reaches forward, and when I don’t stop her, she takes Amanda’s hand gently in her own.

  “Amanda lived in the dorms from the beginning,” I tell her, keeping my voice as calm as possible. I want to keep this clinical, detached. “Her father was an important biologist, but he died years ago, leaving her to grow up in the general population with no family benefits.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Lori’s voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear every word. And I hear everything she isn’t saying.

  We’ve talked about this before. Over the winter, Lori and I had a heart-to-heart, going over all the impending changes in her life. But I needed her to see, truly see the toll that this compound takes on the lives of its citizens.

  “This is the price she paid for a life within these walls.” I place my hand over Lori’s, and together we hold Amanda’s hand, showing her the kindness that should have been extended while she was still alive. “In the end, it was too much for her.” I slide my hand up the body’s cold arm and push the sheet up a little higher. There, on the girl’s wrist, is a jagged tear through her skin.

  Lori chokes on a sob. “What did she do? Why?”

  I trace a finger along the wound, dry now, bloodless in death. “The guards try to keep a eye on the citizens, keep them… safe. But she took her bed frame apart, used a screw.”

  “She must have been very determined.” Lori’s chin drops to her chest, and she shakes her head slowly. “We failed her,” she says, and I watch a single tear escape down her cheek. I reach up and touch the tip of my finger to Lori’s skin, collecting the tear. When she looks up to meet my gaze, her eyes are filled with a new fury. “We should have been there, supporting her. We should be supporting all the compound’s citizens! What can I do? I need to do something about this.”

  I’m shaking my head at her before I can even begin to form a response. “No, Lori, this isn’t why I brought you here today. I wanted to show—”

  “I get it, Kenzo. You wanted me to be prepared for what life is going to be like. My mother is about to die, and I’m going to be living in that dorm next. Those same walls will be my prison. Maybe I’m going to be sleeping on the same bed that Amanda used to…” Lori trails off, but I can see that she isn’t finished yet. She’s just getting started.

  “Kenzo, I’m not Amanda.”

  “I know who you are, Lori. Maybe better than you know yourself.”

  “Then you know that I won’t just take this lying down,” she hisses at me.

  “But that’s the problem, Lori,” I snap back, getting into her face. I lunge forward, circling an arm around her waist and pulling her roughly against me. She seems shocked by my vehemence, but I’m through being nice. Nice clearly isn’t getting the message across. “You wanted an answer, and this is it. Life isn’t pleasant here, not for any of us. And I know you’re strong enough to handle whatever gets thrown your way, but it’s not just about strength. It’s about perseverance.”

  Lori closes her eyes, and her whole body is quivering, pressed against mine. I lean down to her ear and whisper, hoping it’s too quiet for the cameras to pick up, “You have to persevere, Lori. You have to ignore all the injustices and keep your head down. This won’t be forever, but you can’t stick your neck out. Do you understand? There’s more going on here than you need to know.”

  Lori tilts her head up, mirroring my position, mouth almost touching my ear, and I have to resist the physical reaction from having her pressed so close to me. “You mean like where Dan went?” Her words are like ice water pouring down my spine. “Couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t in the hospital, and he’s not here in the morgue. Maybe he’s in that secret lab of yours…”

  Lori pulls back and walks straight out the door, calm as could be, leaving me standing there, frozen.

  Before the door can click shut behind her, I hear it swish open once again. I don’t bother turning to see who it is, I already know.

  Ellis comes to stand beside me, his body rigid. “You need to keep a better leash on that one,” he murmurs. “She’s going to get herself into trouble. You don’t want to go down with her, do you?”

  “That ship has sailed, Ellis. My fate is tied to hers, for better or worse.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, doc.” Ellis moves to walk past me, and I grab his arm, stopping him.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask, voice full of dread.

  “Nothing… yet. Orders are to keep an eye on her. So that’s what I’m doing.”

  I give him a nod. I can live with that. Let’s hope it goes no further than that.

  But deep in the pit of my stomach, I know that’s not likely. Lori’s no pushover. She’s more dangerous than any of us know.

  6

  Lori

  I storm into our apartment, slamming the door and stomping my feet as if that will somehow shake off the icky feeling clinging to me. My skin is still tingling from the refrigerated air of the morgue, and a much deeper chill from the memory of poor Amanda. I get that Kenzo was just answering my question, but I feel like maybe he went straight for the shock value in order to distract me from asking more questions. The big questions that he’s not allowed to answer.

  Which obviously just makes me more determined to get to the bottom of everything.

  “Uh oh, trouble in paradise?” my dad asks as soon as I get through the door. “I figured you’d be over at Trey’s for at least another hour or two.” He’s trying his best to act like he isn’t ecstatic that I’m home early.

  I don’t think he has anything against Trey personally (although he has made numerous and frequent comments about how he isn’t nearly good enough for his little girl). It’s just that this is his biggest complaint about compound living; there isn’t a single place to go on a decent date around here.

  My mother’s favorite story about the old world was how she met my dad. Insert wistful sigh here. She worked at a movie theater, and he kept going to see the same awful movie over and over again, just so he could buy his ticket from her. “It was the best two minutes of every day,” my dad says every time she tells the story. And they look at each other with such sweetness that I am both disgusted and jealous at the same time.

  But now? We don’t have movie theaters. Or movies, for that matter, to watch in the non-existent theaters. We don’t have restaurants. We do have a cafeteria, but that’s really only for the breeders. The food is so atrocious that nobody would eat there voluntarily, and certainly not for a date. So, instead, I hang out at Trey’s quarters. I’m sure my dad would feel more at ease if he had a roommate like most soldiers, but his prestigious rank, blah, blah, blah…

  “Trey says hi.” He totally didn’t. My dad knows this.

  “Tell Trey I say hi back.” Yeah, I won’t be doing that either. My dad also knows this. It’s a game we play.

  I take a peek at my dad, standing in front of the stove. “You know,” I start slowly, testing the water, “I went to see Mom this morning.”

  Dad’s shoulders stiffen, and he glances at me over his shoulder. “And?” he whispers. “How is she doing?”

  I shrug. “You could come and see for yourself. I’m sure she’d really love if you stopped by to see her. She misses you.” S
he’s never told me that; she also hasn’t even asked about how they’re doing or for me to pass on a simple message. In the few moments of lucidity I can get from her, the most she ever says is, “Take care of my boys.”

  Dad heaves a sigh, his whole body caving inward. “She doesn’t want to see me. Or, more precisely, she doesn’t want me to see her.”

  My dad turns back to the stove, and I can tell the conversation is over. I clear my throat and do my best to move past the tension. I step into the kitchen—which is kinda the same room except with a different floor tile—and grab a mushroom out of the frying pan. The vegetables we get from the garden do wonders to hide the flavor and texture of the protein paste. “Looks like I’m just in time!” I say too brightly.

  My dad looks relieved that we’re back to normal and swats at my hand playfully with the spatula. I dodge and go back to snatch one more. The grease burns my tongue, but it’s totally worth it.

  Brent comes in from our bedroom with a box in his arms. “Did I hear you say you came just in time? I couldn’t agree more. There’s another box for you to bring out, if you would be so kind.” What is it with brothers and sarcasm.

  I look past my brother to the bedroom, already mostly empty. Dammit. I’ve really been avoiding this whole scene. We don’t talk about it, but my mom’s dying. The consequences of that unthinkable event will be like dominos, and we’re bracing for the fall. Brent puts his box by the door and flicks my ear on his way through the kitchen.

  “You little shit, how old are you?” I snip at him.

  Brent turns around, a snarky comment already on his lips, but then he sees something on my face and his expression softens. “Look, just try not to think about what you’re doing. It’s just putting a few things into a box. Sounds harmless enough, right?”

  “Nothing about this is harmless,” I hiss back. “As if losing Mom isn’t bad enough, we’re going to lose everything else that has any value in our lives.”

  “Hey, what am I, chopped liver? I have value, you know.”

  “I would seriously kill for some liver.”

  “Fair enough, but you know what I mean. You’ll still have Dad and me.” My dad offers a small smile at me from his spot in front of the stove, and Brent gives a big cheesy grin.

  My heart is bursting with love for my little family, which just makes it suck even more when I can’t stop the words from spilling out of my mouth. “I won’t have either of you, though, will I?” Brent’s smile slips, but there’s no stopping me now. I’m a skydiver without a parachute. “I mean, the minute Mom’s heart stops beating, our contracts are up. We’ll be moved from valuable asset to breeder in no time flat. And when that happens, you’ll both be moved to the men’s dorm, and I’ll be moved to the women’s. You’ll have each other, but who the hell will I have?”

  Brent’s mouth gasps like a fish out of water while he flounders, trying and failing to find words of comfort. Dad reaches out a hand to console me, but now it’s my turn to slap his hand away. In three strides I’m through the door to my room, and I slam the flimsy door behind me. The “slam” is too soft, more like cork or leather, and I’m borderline tempted to slam it again for good measure.

  But it’s too late. Slamming doors won’t save any of us. It won’t keep my fractured family together. And it won’t save my mother from dying.

  I give Brent’s side of the room an unnecessary scowl. It’s immaculate; already packed, tidied, dusted. Then I look at my half of the room. There may as well be a dividing line between the two halves with how different they are. A border between countries. Brent’s half is clearly Switzerland, or maybe Austria. I spend the next 20 minutes lying on my bed and staring at the ceiling, trying to decide which country I would be, but I feel like comparing any country to my room would be a grave insult. Wouldn’t want to start World War III over my dirty socks.

  I snort out a laugh that sounds a lot more like a scoff. I doubt there are enough people to start a war anymore. There probably isn’t even a Switzerland anymore.

  And with that depressing thought, I sit up and start shoving everything into boxes. I don’t look, just grab and throw. I try not to see my mom’s old hand-me-down t-shirt from when she was in college; I’m not even allowed to wear it, since it’s not regulation, so why the hell am I keeping it? I don’t look at the few books I own, all passed to me from my parents; I can guarantee there aren’t any bookshelves over in the dorms.

  For the last armloads, I just keep my eyes closed. It’s easier to hide from the memories that way.

  Dad and Brent don’t say a word when I lug the boxes out to place by the door. They sit together on our fraying couch, allowing me my moment of sulking.

  When I’m finished at last, I stand in the middle of our apartment, surveying the bare shelves and empty cupboards. Any sign of our family is gone, nothing but a memory. I feel heavier, somehow, bearing the weight of those memories on my shoulders. Brent pulls me down onto the couch, sandwiched safely between them. Their presence, their warmth, reminds me that I don’t need to bear that weight alone. They too will remember my mother, the way she used to be. Together, we mourn her loss before she’s even gone.

  7

  Kenzo

  I peek my head in through the door to see Lori’s head bent low over her mother’s bedside. Her breathing is even and slow. I meet Judith’s eyes, surprised to find them clear and steady. “Hey,” I whisper.

  “Hey,” she says back softly, darting her eyes down to her dozing daughter.

  “Has she been here all night?” A glance at my watch tells me that it’s nearing dawn.

  Judith nods. “I didn’t have the heart to wake her, but… it was mostly for selfish reasons. I just wanted my girl with me. My baby girl…” She trails off and gently strokes a hand over Lori’s dark hair.

  I feel as though I’m interrupting a private moment, and I’m about to back out of the room when Judith says, “It’s time.”

  “Time?” I ask naively.

  Judith’s expression shutters and she gives me a nod. “It’s time,” she says again darkly. “Would you mind?” She gestures to Lori.

  “Of course.” I take a step into the small room and place a hand on Lori’s shoulder. “Lori?” I give her a little shake.

  Lori gives a jerk, startling upright. “What—is it Mom?” She’s instantly reaching out for her mother’s hand, clutching tight and desperate.

  “No, she’s fine, she’s—” I look up to Judith to find her eyes closed and a soft snore coming from her chest. “She’s sleeping.”

  Lori’s body sags, the adrenaline leaving her as quickly as it came. “Right.” She rubs at her eyes with her palms. “What time is it?”

  “6:30. You’ve got a few minutes for a shower before breakfast if you hurry.” I don’t want to tell her, but she could really use it. She looks like she’s been flattened by a herd of elephants.

  Lori takes in my sheepish expression, then sticks her nose into her armpit and makes a face. “Duly noted.”

  As Lori tries to straighten her hair, I sneak another glance at Judith and see her eyes are open and her expression is defeated.

  “Hey,” I say, drawing Lori’s attention to me. “Why don’t I write you a doctor’s note. You can sleep for a few hours in the hospital. You don’t look like you’re in any state to be working on anything mechanical today. You’re likely to electrocute yourself or disconnect someone’s brakes.”

  Lori offers me a small smile as she mulls it over. I think for a minute that she’s about to turn me down, but then she opens her mouth wide in a yawn. “Thanks, that sounds like an offer that’s too good to pass up.”

  I pull a small pad of paper from my pocket and scribble a quick note to Jose. Honestly, he doesn’t need the note, but we’re just covering all the bases in case someone notices Lori isn’t where she’s supposed to be. Magnus doesn’t usually lower himself to visiting the garage, but technically it’s his jurisdiction. If Howell decides to do a head count, or if Ellis is watchi
ng the cameras, it’s best to cross those T’s.

  Lori follows me out into the hallway, where I flag down the soldier failing miserably at being discreet. He’s baby-faced, probably no older than 16, and I wonder where they dug this guy up from. “Private, get this message over to Jose in the garage.”

  “Sir,” he says, pausing as he examines his scuffed boots.

  “Is there a problem?”

  The soldier darts his eyes to Lori, and it’s clear that he’s been charged with following her. I’m fairly certain that his orders also involve keeping his mission to himself; I’m really putting him in a difficult position, and I have a hard time containing my grin as I watch his internal debate over whose orders take immediate precedence. Finally, he reaches out a hand and takes the slip of paper from me before making his reluctant retreat.

  I turn to Lori and brush my hands clear of any imaginary dust. “Presto!”

  She gives a tired giggle. “Like magic.” The smile, as dim as it is, makes my cheeks warm. My eyes catch the look on Judith’s face over Lori’s shoulder. It’s like she’s collapsing in on herself, and tiny fissures start to crack through my facade.

  I’m willing to do whatever it takes to bring out Lori’s smile, whenever and however I can. But this may be the last smile I see from her for a while.

  “Go on,” I say, gesturing with a nod of my head. “We don’t have any patients right now, so you have your pick of beds. Just don’t take the first one, the springs squeak.”

  “Thanks, Kenzo. Seriously, you’re a lifesaver.” She gives my arm a brief squeeze on the way by and shuffles down the hall.

  I wait until she steps into the hospital and out of sight before entering Judith’s small room and closing the door.

  “I thought she’d never leave,” Judith says teasingly, but the joke falls flat.