Mortal Scream (Harbingers of Death Book 1)

by LeAnn Mason

  A tenuous smile uplifted the corners of my mouth. I took a drink… and ended up downing the whole thing in a few gulps.

  “My, oh, my. Aren’t we thirsty? I’m a touch parched myself.” She winked and took my cup, refilling it and returning it before I could determine if she was flirting with me. “Why don’t you go on and seat your delicious self over there to munch on those pickins’?”

  Yep, definitely flirting. Now, I knew I was in a fever dream. I guessed being in an all-women’s ward, this was bound to happen sometime. Should I be flattered?

  I took her advice, because it was the least hostile interaction I’d had yet, and headed for a table in a far corner that was vacant like many others as the hordes crowded around the bloodbath. Shouldn’t someone be breaking that up?

  Looking around as I walked, I noticed that same guard from earlier. He stood against the wall beside the doors I’d entered through with arms crossed and a gleam in his eye. I squinted, fairly certain I could discern a slight smirk on his face as he watched the two heathens destroying each other.

  He was entertained? Sick.

  Perhaps I didn’t want to befriend him. It was like he wanted someone to die. The grunting and fleshy smacks of fists hitting skin made me think I might witness yet another death in my life. Would I scream?

  Caught up in the dinner show, I didn’t notice that someone was already at the table until I sat down, nearly flinging my precious water when she spoke.

  Never let a distraction, intentional or otherwise, obscure your focus on all your surroundings.

  Yet, I’d let it happen twice now. In one day.

  “I see you met Jessica. With the look on her face, I’m surprised she didn’t eat you up on the spot.”

  ◆◆◆

  The new girl looked as tasty walking away as she did staring into Jessica’s eyes. That eye contact, as much as being fresh meat, sent a zing through her starved system. Another minute of that and she’d have dived over the serving trays and been all over that girl like a duck on a June bug before anyone could break it up.

  Eye contact was a rare thing in these dang wards, and Jessica always did like a little feist in her prey, a little fight. A struggle made it all the more delectable. A second shudder flushed her skin, her body eager for the chase her mind imagined. It had been ages since their last victim, since she’d been able to have a nibble. Her thirst gnawed at her, growing stronger with each passing day.

  Distractedly, Jessica addressed the lunch attendant again, “Martha, you hold down the farm, ya hear? Back in two ticks.”

  Martha grumbled some response, but Jessica ignored it, her attention tunneled on the silvery hair as it swayed with each flick of the girl’s graceful neck while she talked to Ember. Jessica knew she couldn’t really have what she wanted. They were here for a reason, and there were rules that forbade her from acting out of turn. Cole was watching. Seke would know.

  Walking to the end of the serving station, Jessica pried her gaze away and turned around to plant her bum on the counter half-filled with crusty returned trays. She swiveled her legs around to the other side, nose wrinkling at the competing smells from the discarded scrapings. She did consume human food between her preferred meals to keep up her strength, but it wasn’t pleasant.

  “Martha,” she called, “returns are pilin’ up. And I’m taking this.” She swiped a plate from the end of the line.

  Hopping to her feet, the siren adopted a catwalk-worthy hip-swing toward the occupied table. It caught the notice of another inmate as she passed, dragging her attention from the convicts bashing each other’s brains and toward Jessica’s curves.

  Before her newest admirer even opened her mouth, she told her toy, “Later, sugar. I’m on the hunt right now.” Unable to resist, she leaned into the woman’s beefy neck and inhaled the warmth emanating from her skin and with it the musk of interest that caused Jessica’s salivation glands to saturate her mouth with venom.

  “Later,” she purred in promise to both of them then gave a chaste kiss to the admirer’s scarred cheek. Later wouldn’t involve everything she wanted. It wouldn’t satiate her thirst, but it would temper the urges that darted like minnows in her stomach.

  Sitting down as close as a cat’s breath to the fresh meat, she inhaled, absorbing the new girl’s musk the moment she noticed Jessica’s presence. It was dark, bitter, and a little bit chocolate. Not interested. Interesting…

  “Don’t trust anythin’ Ember says about me.” Jessica cooed, shooting Ember a sharp look. What had they been talking about?

  Ember rolled her eyes, nostrils flaring in annoyance. She didn’t like suspicion. And really, Jessica trusted Ember to follow the rules if nothing else. The ancient bird knew the rules all too well and adhered to them much better than Jessica did.

  The new girl swallowed. “We’re not talking about you.” The way she rushed out the placating assurance confirmed her new-girl status. Only a newb would be wary of pushing anyone’s buttons. “She’s just giving me the rundown of do’s and don’ts.”

  The girl’s voice had a sort of pull of its own. Very interesting.

  “Do tell,” Jessica invited, narrowing her eyes at Ember. The pixie-cut redhead crossed her arms, freckles and overlarge red-brown irises seeming to flare at Jessica’s silent insinuation. Her pointed chin jerked to the new girl as if to reason that she was just getting the skinny on their new resident. Any change in their environment had to be cataloged and taken into account to ensure they didn’t trip over their boots when it came time to do their duty. They knew everything about this prison and everyone in it… except this silver-haired chick.

  “Like, if you don’t want to piss off Big Bertha—and I don’t—then never take the last piece of …”

  Jessica slid the plate in front of the new girl and watched her statement fade into fog, light-colored eyes widening almost as wide as the sagging holes in her ears indicating they’d formerly hosted gauges. Jessica sensed this girl usually wore a mask, making her appearance a defense mechanism. She had more of a sweet… unexplored sexuality.

  Jessica liked that. She liked all kinds. She didn’t really have a type. Fighters, biters, submissive, dominant, amateur, experienced, man, woman, groups, singles… She fanned her warm cheeks with a hand. Thinking about sex was arousing her. Maybe she’d head for her new acquisition sooner rather than later.

  “Pie,” the girl whispered in horror, her head whipping to Big Bertha. She was cute. Innocent.

  “Oh, don’t mind her.” Jessica flapped a hand as if shooing a fly. “She’s all hat and no cattle. Go on now, sugar, eat up.”

  There were cheers and a lot of booing, indicating the fight was over. Jessica didn’t bother to inspect who won. It had gone on far too long in her opinion. She would have ended it in moments, leaving her opponent bleeding and broken on the floor. She’d maybe even have taken a nibble when no one was looking.

  Except, Cole was always looking.

  Focusing back on her companion, Jessica watched the new girl’s icy eyes traverse to her own and narrow. A challenge. Not a meek ol’ thing after all. A heat flared awake behind her navel. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t have what she wanted, so there was no point in getting all hot and bothered. In a monumental effort of restraint, the siren grew her smile to show teeth—fake teeth, a facade to hide a full set of pointed fangs.

  “Her name is Aria, and you can go back to work now,” Ember hissed in a terse tone, temper rising along with the temperature.

  Jessica stood, mostly to get away from the temptation than to prevent Ember’s hissy fit. She couldn’t make a habit of catering to the old lady’s pointed directives. “Welcome to the rodeo, Aria. My advice? Keep your head down, and don’t do anythin’ to get your hide skinned and nailed to the barn door, and all will be dandy.”

  Aria stabbed a fork into the pie with defiance as she stared Jessica down.

  Hotter than a sidewalk at high noon in the middle of July, that look. “What’cha in for?” she ask
ed Aria as she popped a stray cherry into her mouth with another wink.

  The girl shoved a huge forkful of pie into her mouth and gave a predatory smile with teeth dripping red, the color a sharp contrast to her pale skin and hair. “Murder.”

  Well, well, well. Jessica exchanged a significant look with Ember. Perhaps they did need to keep watch on this one. If she was capable of killing, she might be tied to their objective. She wished they could get the details beforehand. Even Seke didn’t get all the information, he claimed.

  “Enjoy the cherry.” Jessica tossed over her shoulder as she meandered back to her station. Although she wanted to get this job over with and be free of yet another dingy prison, things were getting tantalizingly interesting.

  8

  After the tense but informative meal, I’d decided to go back to spend “free time” in the cell. There, I could back myself against a wall and focus on the only way to get in. Create a funnel, if you will. I’d only have my cellmate to worry about there.

  Position yourself with every advantage. Make opponents come to you. Limit access points and blind spots. Control the fight.

  I could control a lot in such close quarters, so I felt comfortable that this was my best bet for a quiet evening. I wasn’t really ready to dive deeper into prison life this night. Meeting people had burned me out. The intense corrections officer, my anti-social cellmate—who was still lying in her bunk when I arrived back at my hidey-hole, and my new friends from the mess hall… it had been enough.

  Sleep pulled at my eyelids as I stared at the dingy, pocked, and yellowing ceiling. Limbs like lead, my body sank deeper into the lumpy mattress, not disturbed in the slightest by the echoing raucousness pervading the halls.

  I’d never really had cushy accommodations, certainly not since my parents’ deaths. Once my mother went missing, any kind of a stable life went right out the window. Dad went kind of conspiracy theorist on me, and the life I knew and lived went missing right along with her. Losing her broke something fundamental in him, and he morphed almost overnight into more of a drill sergeant.

  The lessons stuck, ruining me for anything even closely resembling a normal existence. It probably had been only a matter of time before my nomadic lifestyle caused something that would land me in my current accommodations. I probably could have evaded it, due to the lessons, before I began screaming my head off and pinning a giant neon bullseye on my chest.

  Shit. I still couldn’t believe I was losing my mind. Maybe this was the safest place for me, for others to be safe from me.

  Annoyed, I huffed, rolling to face the open space of the small cell. I didn’t want to roll toward the wall and make it easier for someone to sneak up on me. That feat was fairly hard to pull off though. Too many long nights training. Thanks, Dad.

  I hadn’t heard anything from my cellmate since I’d gotten situated, so I assumed she was still on her bunk, but if she was stealthy, she could have left the cell without my noticing. I was much less concerned about sounds getting further from where I lay, so in that sense, I was lax.

  Ugh. My mouth was starting to get that fuzzy feeling. The one where you could practically taste all the fermenting germs from the food you’d eaten as they multiplied and built their summer homes in between your teeth? And the pie already had a bad association. Running my tongue across my teeth solidified my urge to brush them with the simple device and tiny tube of paste I’d bartered for by signing away my first month of wages. Mouthwash and floss would have to come later. And I needed to actually get ready for sleep. It couldn’t be later than six-thirty in the evening, and yet, I didn’t want to hold off and end up asleep before I’d done it. The morning would have me waking to a full-blown colony of nasty if I succumbed.

  Gingerly, I climbed down to the ground, careful not to shake the bunks too violently and bring the wrath of my oddly inert bedfellow. Overly large, dark eyes watched my every movement downward. Nothing but those eerie eyes followed me, unblinking. I shook off the shiver that crawled along my spine at the look. There was something off about it, about her. She reminded me of the freaky child in some horror movie where every second they were in front of the camera seemed orchestrated to up the chill factor.

  Wondering what put her in here would prevent me from sleeping, so I pushed that curiosity off.

  I gave her a half-hearted chin lift in acknowledgment, which she, of course, ignored, shutting her eyes to block me out. At least, she wasn’t watching me anymore, and I could brush my teeth without feeling like I was doomed.

  I’d never gotten that feeling from anyone else before, and I’d met more than my fair share of creepers. There was something, I don’t know, inhuman in her gaze that seemed to keep me on high alert.

  Maybe if she stayed on her bunk and continued to act like a coma patient, I could get some sleep, because I couldn’t imagine giving her my back. Just another thing to get used to, I guessed, because, no matter how much I hated the idea, I’d have to close my eyes sometime.

  “Well, hey there, roomies,” came the syrupy southern drawl of the blonde bombshell I’d met in the cafeteria. Jessica, I think. I hadn’t looked at her name-patch to see what her surname or inmate number were.

  She was gorgeous and no more than mid-twenties, by the looks of her. She seemed uniquely comfortable in this doghouse. While she couldn’t have been in here for more than a few years, that was still plenty long.

  My “roomie,” whose name-patch read Raven, rolled her eyes so hard I thought I might actually hear it. At least, I wasn’t the only one she didn’t deem worthy of her time.

  Her attitude didn’t seem to put off the newcomer in the slightest. Jessica just pushed her sashaying hips into the cell and plopped down on the lower mattress, crossing those too-long stems and leaning back on her hands.

  “What the hell, Jess? I hate when you crowd my bunk. This is my safe space. You know that. Can’t you go one night without an ego stroke?”

  “Mmm, you know I can’t go five minutes without a stroke,” the blonde purred suggestively, throwing a wink at where I stood by the sink, poised to brush my teeth.

  I felt awkwardly like a voyeur… and like that was exactly how Jessica intended to make me feel. Maybe she wanted to see how I reacted?

  I just turned around and squeezed out a tiny dollop of toothpaste onto my government-approved toothbrush. I couldn’t afford replacements, so I’d need to make these last. Heaven forbid my period grace me with its presence before I had time to properly save up for any sanitary products. I didn’t mind turning my back now because there was a mirror, or whatever reflective material-coated plastic passed for such in a place where the real thing would be readily considered a possible, and viable, weapon.

  “Let’s take a walk, Raven. Things to chit-chat about.” Jessica slapped at the body on the mattress until my roomie yielded, pushing at the slender fingers that reached to accost her again.

  They acted almost like siblings, each annoying the other until they got what they wanted. They must have been in here a while to get to know each other on such a familiar and casual level.

  Begrudgingly, Raven shuffled from the bed, donning the discarded slip-on shoes she’d flung haphazardly off the end of her bed.

  “Toodles, Silver.” Jessica winked, following lazily behind the petite, aloof black-haired woman who hadn’t yet said a word to me.

  I slid the ramrod from my spine and allowed my shoulders to relax. It was probably the only time I’d be truly alone for a while. I should take advantage and get some shut-eye. Maybe my spidey sense would tingle and alert me if trouble sought me.

  The lumpy bunk called my name, and I succumbed, climbing the rungs and falling face-first into the just-as-lumpy pillow. A couple of hearty punches to the fluff, and I situated myself on my back, facing the pocked ceiling again.

  Probably should get used to it.

  At least, the twitchy feeling between my shoulders ebbed when my cellie vacated.

  Letting my eyes fall closed, I focused on
breathing. In, out. In, out. Inhale through the nose, and exhale out the mouth. I’d slept in much grungier and less safe accommodations. If I cleared my head of all the additional noises, I’d be asleep in just a few minutes…

  I heard cawing, but not the normal high pitch of a crow. This was deeper, slower, more menacing somehow, but completely out of place among the halls of the prison along which I walked alone. Hands skimming across the barred fronts of cells, I whistled as I strolled like I didn’t have a care in the world.

  The place was barren, quiet except for the bird’s call. The hallway seemed endless and unwavering. No matter how long I walked, nothing ever changed. I never reached a destination. I was sure it symbolized something, but I hadn’t ever tried to work out the weirdness of dreams. Funny how sometimes you had zero clue that what happened wasn’t real, and others, like now, were consciously not in the realm of possibility.

  A buzzing murmur began to pick up, getting louder as I walked, though the scenery didn’t change. Then, like a freight train, the scene plowed toward me. I found myself in the middle of a riot. Too many undulating, chanting, navy-clad bodies surged toward a common goal—a goal I couldn’t see through the mass. Bounced between irate women like a pinball, I pushed toward the collective goal and found a closed door. One that led into a guard station. One that was probably supposed to be manned. At the fore, I looked down as my feet came into contact with something.

  A guard.

  Bloody and beaten to the point of being unrecognizable, I could only watch as the body seemed to be pulled further into the crowd, swallowed by the melee.

  A scream crawled up my throat, prepped to be expelled with the force of a tornado siren… and it didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Again.

  My eyes bugged in horror as a hand slapped across my mouth, clamping as if the sheer force could enforce will.

  “You better not, Silver. If the guards come raining down on us like avenging angels because you’re screaming bloody murder… I’m not taking the rap for that. Now, shut the fuck up, or I will be the reason you scream.”