Survival Instinct (Book 5): Social Instinct

by Stittle, Kristal

  Onida didn’t answer him. She thought that doing so would make her look paranoid. Her silence had the same effect, however. Shawn stopped tying the horses together and stared at her.

  “Tell me what you did.”

  “I told you.” Onida wouldn’t meet his gaze; she focused entirely on the horses.

  “All you said was that you stole something. Something you no longer had. Tell me everything, or I’m going to leave you. I’ll take half the horses and half the gear, and Mask and I will go join the Amish.”

  Onida sighed. She had naively thought that she would never have to tell Shawn the truth. That she would never have to tell anyone.

  “Tell me what you stole.” Shawn’s voice raised in pitch, and Onida remembered just how good he was at killing things, and just how alone he had been when she first met him.

  “A soul.”

  “A soul?”

  “I stole a soul.”

  “You killed someone.”

  “Yes, although it’s not like that.”

  “Tell me then. Tell me what happened.”

  Onida sighed again. She turned to the next horse so that she could keep her hands busy and not have to look at Shawn while she spoke. “It was my grandfather. He was sick. It doesn’t matter that he wanted me to do it, that he wanted me to take his life to the point that he told me how best to use the knife. Everyone must pass on their own terms for the soul to be free. To take someone’s life is to take their soul. It’s completely forbidden no matter the circumstances.”

  “When you say sick, was he going to turn into a zombie?”

  “No, nothing like that. He would have been too well guarded, his passing too closely monitored if that were the case. I wouldn’t have been able to get near him. I think it was cancer that was killing him, but we had no way of determining that for sure. All I know is that he was in a lot of pain.” Tears forced their way out of Onida’s eyes and ran down her face as she remembered how frail her grandfather had looked. How his hands had become twisted claws as he grabbed at anything that might help him.

  “And your grandfather, he was important?”

  “Yes. He was very well respected. Everyone listened to him.”

  “Did he know that you would be pursued for doing what he asked you to do?”

  “Only if I got caught. He didn’t think I would be. Neither of us realized how the aftermath would paralyze me.” Onida could practically smell the inside of the tent as she remembered the deed. After she had killed her grandfather with a knife through his eye, she had found it impossible to move. She just knelt there, staring. When her little brother came to see what she was up to, he found Onida still kneeling beside their dead grandfather. His own horror made him slow to raise the alarm, giving Onida time to start running. And she had been running ever since. “If you want to leave me to go live with the Amish, I understand.”

  Shawn was silent. He was silent for so long that Onida worried he had walked off. But no, he was still there, with his own set of tears glittering in his beard.

  “Shawn? Are you okay?” Onida wiped at her face.

  “I’m fine.” He turned rapidly, and set to work on the horses once more. “I don’t think we’ll stay with the Amish. We should stop there, but we won’t stay.”

  “We? You’ll still come south with me?”

  Shawn grunted, and moved his head in what Onida hoped was a curt nod.

  Once the horses were ready, they mounted back up. Shawn led them along the road to the Amish.

  It was almost a relief to have told Shawn what she had done. She was still afraid that he would leave her, but now it was something that was out of her hands. For all she knew, Shawn would give her to the Amish in exchange for sanctuary, and they would then use her as a bargaining chip with her own people. She could probably be traded for a lot of supplies, since her people generally got along quite well with the Amish, even if this particular community didn’t yet have contact with hers. Onida would just have to follow Shawn and find out what would happen.

  Based on how long Shawn had been gone, Onida thought it would take some time before she saw any signs of the Amish. It didn’t take much time at all, however, before they reached a literal sign, an old one, welcoming people to Amish country. Not far past that, a large fence had been erected, much newer than the sign. A gate barred their entrance, but on horseback, Onida could see over it. There were farm fields that had already been harvested just on the other side, and wooden structures whose roofs were barely visible among some hills in the distance. White smoke curled up from the structures, and Onida could hear a handsaw at work. She also thought she might be able to hear voices, but couldn’t be positive.

  They weren’t standing at the gate for long before a horse and rider appeared. A man dressed in the simple blacks of the Amish rode toward them on a beautiful chestnut mare. Onida thought their own horses looked rather drab in comparison.

  “Hello, there,” the Amish man greeted them with a friendly smile.

  Out of the corner of her eyes, Onida saw Shawn shifting uncomfortably in his saddle. She got the sense that his time with her made him think that socializing with other people would be easy, and was being proven wrong.

  “Hello,” she answered for the two of them. “We’re looking for a place to rest up.”

  “For the winter?” the man’s brows pinched slightly together. They were probably not the first to seek shelter through the hard season.

  “No, just a few nights. Maybe three, four?” She looked over at Shawn, hoping he would contribute.

  “Three. Three nights.” He had mumbled, giving more weight to Onida’s theory.

  “We just want somewhere safe to give our horses a break, and maybe trade for some supplies.” Although Onida didn’t know what they had to trade. Other than herself, that was.

  The Amish nodded his understanding. “May I have your names, please? And where are you coming from?”

  “Peter,” Shawn said with a hand to his chest. He gave the man a false name like it was nothing.

  “Numees,” Onida gave the name of her aunt before Shawn could bestow some white person’s name upon her.

  “We’re travelling down from the north-east,” Shawn told the Amish man.

  “Why?” The man was eyeing their horses, but mostly Shawn. He likely recognized that all of the horses’ gear was made by Native American hands, which Shawn was most definitely not. While many folk, of all races, had been accepted into Onida’s tribe after the zombies came, Shawn’s wild man looks and the packs he had brought from his cabin, did not match the rest of their gear. Onida was afraid that maybe word had spread, that communities such as this had been told to keep an eye out for Onida and all the horses. Was that why Shawn had encouraged her to lie about her name by lying first? It was unlikely he was in danger of being recognized, since no one had seen him the night his cabin burned down.

  “We both lost our homes a little while ago.” Shawn gestured to himself and Onida. He was becoming a little more confidant with the Amish man, speaking at a more normal volume. “Numees was lucky to have saved so many horses, and I was lucky to have come across her.”

  “We were both lucky to have come across each other,” Onida added, hoping it sounded genuine.

  “What happened to your homes?”

  “Zombies.” Shawn told the easiest lie of all. “A large horde swept through both our lands, managing to take us by surprise.”

  The Amish man nodded, finding nothing to question about that.

  “May I ask your name?” Onida asked.

  “Jacob. If the two of you will wait here for a minute, I’ll go discuss your request with the others.”

  “Please don’t take too long. We’d like to be sheltered before dark.” Onida often thought of the wolves. They never slept in the tent anymore, preferring to find a building in which to stop. When they couldn’t fit the horses inside, they took shifts keeping fires lit and watching over them. Those long nights were the most exhausting, but no
wolves had been seen since that first pack.

  Jacob nodded again, understanding Onida’s request, and rode off toward the roofs just beyond a small hill. Onida looked behind her, checking to see how the horses were doing. She then turned to Shawn.

  “What do we have to offer?” she wondered.

  “Depends on what they need,” Shawn replied.

  “We don’t have much.”

  “We’ll trade in labour if we have to.”

  “That doesn’t sound very restful.”

  Shawn grunted in agreement.

  When Jacob returned, he was on foot and accompanied by three other men, who carried simple rifles. They didn’t introduce themselves, but they opened the gate.

  “You are free to camp on our grounds for at least one night,” Jacob told them. “We will discuss what you have to offer, and see if more nights in proper beds can be agreed upon.”

  Onida felt a weight lift off her as she rode past the fence. While still fearful of somehow being recognized by the Amish, or of Shawn betraying her, being within a guarded boundary after living out in the open for so long was wonderful.

  They rode slowly, allowing the four men to keep pace. Jacob and another man walked on either side of her and Shawn, while the two others shut the gate and followed behind their horse trains. She suspected those two men were eyeing their supply bags, although they likely couldn’t tell how empty most were.

  At the top of the hill, the paved road came to an abrupt end. A well-trodden dirt path led them down the far side and into a clearing between several large buildings, all of which were made of wood. More hills dotted the area, and Onida could spot more modest sized dwellings among them. The clearing itself was full of people. She wondered whether they had already been there, or if they had just come to meet Shawn and Onida.

  “Welcome,” a man who looked like Jacob, but with grey hair and deeper wrinkles, spread his arms as Shawn and Onida approached. “I’ve been told you’re here to trade.”

  Shawn nodded, his eyes darting about. He did not like having all these people around. Onida guessed, based on certain faces, haircuts, and articles of clothing, that not everyone there had chosen to join the Amish for their religious practices, but rather out of necessity. She was grateful not to spy any faces like her own.

  “Why don’t you come inside?” the man who looked like Jacob suggested. “Your horses and gear will remain untouched, you have my word.”

  Onida didn’t climb down off her horse until Shawn did. Mask grunted and wriggled about as Shawn picked him up out of the saddlebag where he tended to spend his days. Some of the younger people giggled and whispered at the sight of the raccoon. There were no children present, but Onida suspected they were safely hidden away somewhere until it was ascertained that neither she nor Shawn presented them any threat.

  “I’m Paul,” the man told them as he guided them to the nearest building. “Your names are Peter and Numees, correct?”

  “Yes,” Onida answered after a second or two when Shawn didn’t. He walked with Mask cradled in his arms, fearful of the people gathered around. Onida suspected that Paul had noticed the way Shawn looked at the people and had opted to bring them inside for his comfort. Onida didn’t know what the building was that they were led to, only that it wasn’t the church.

  Inside, there was a large room, with many chairs, and a little platform stage against the far wall. Perhaps it was where they held their town meetings, or maybe even held dances, based on the way several chairs had been cleared away from a central space. Paul brought them to the nearest seats, allowing them to be arranged however they liked. Jacob had followed them in, and so had a handful of others, but most of the Amish stayed outside.

  “So, you’d like to stay for three nights?” Paul cut straight to the chase. “And I assume you’d also like some supplies before you head out? What do you have to offer in exchange?”

  Onida looked to Shawn, worried he wouldn’t be able to speak to this small group. But by petting Mask, and looking down at the animal’s huddled form on his lap, it seemed he was able.

  “We can give you a horse,” Shawn started with.

  Onida frowned. He had said nothing of the sort to her.

  “Which horse?” Jacob asked.

  “The one without any gear on it.”

  “You mean the lame one,” an unnamed man grunted.

  “He’s not lame,” Onida defended Askuwheteau. “He just needs to rest. We haven’t been able to stop for more than a night since we started.”

  “Do you know what’s wrong with him?” Jacob asked. It wasn’t a hostile question, merely interest.

  Onida didn’t answer, because she didn’t actually know.

  “We’ll take the horse,” Paul said, causing several heads to turn his way. “That will get you three nights in a bed, plus meals for you and the rest of your horses.”

  “You’re not going to eat him, are you?” Onida asked, a touch of fear entering her voice.

  “No, we won’t eat him,” Paul reassured her. “Not until he has lived a full life at least. We will assess his leg, but even if he does turn out to be lame, we can use him as a teaching aid for the young ones. We could also use some fresh genes for breeding with our own horses, and if his hair is good, we can trim his mane and tail when we need it.” The other Amish looked annoyed at how freely Paul told them these things, and how easily he accepted the horse in exchange for beds and meals.

  “I can also offer the hair off the rest of our horses,” Shawn added.

  Onida shot him a look that he ignored. Horses had manes and tails for a reason.

  “We can also trade labour for supplies,” Onida said. She figured that with beds and meals, working for the Amish shouldn’t be too awful. “And we have a lot of extra horse gear: brushes, hoof picks, and the like. We also have some extra blankets we can offer in trade.”

  Jacob leaned down and whispered something in his father’s ear. Paul nodded and raised his hand, the gesture combining with his expression to state that he already knew or realized whatever it was that Jacob had said. Although it was one of the unnamed men who spoke next.

  “Convenient that when you had to flee your home the horses were all loaded up to go.” There was clearly an accusation in his voice.

  “A hunting party was preparing to head out, one last long outing before winter.” Onida had to think on her feet, hoping the lies didn’t show plainly on her face. “I was left to watch over the horses while they said goodbye to their families and gathered a few last minute items. When the screaming started, the horses began to move on their own, including the one I was holding, and I was too stunned and scared to stop them. I could only climb up into the saddle.” Was that believable? Did it make sense? Was she about to be bombarded with questions about an event that never happened? She tried to imagine what that sort of zombie attack would be like, her mind racing to sketch in details.

  “The raccoon, what’s his name?” asked a woman, turning the attention away from Onida. Well, most of the attention. The man who had questioned her was clearly still suspicious. Had they known to be on the lookout for Onida, however, then she would have been caught already. They must not have had contact with her people since she ran.

  “Mask,” Shawn told the woman, there being no point in giving him a false name.

  “He wouldn’t be up for offer, would he?” the woman asked, her voice completely innocent. She had no idea that Onida had nearly been killed because of Shawn’s bond with the raccoon.

  Shawn’s eyes finally raised and locked onto the woman. “No.” There was menace in that simple word, and the darkness in his eyes made the Amish woman squirm in her seat. She clearly regretted having asked as her face flushed and she stared down at her own, empty lap.

  Shawn’s arms had subconsciously gripped Mask tighter. Mask was not a fan of this and began wriggling around to find a better position. His movements brought Shawn’s gaze back down to him, and the murder left his eyes.

  “
I don’t suppose you’d be willing to trade any of your other horses?” Paul asked, clearly ignoring the dark expression he just saw. He continued to smile pleasantly.

  “No.”

  Onida was glad to hear Shawn give that answer, and even more so to hear that the threat had left his voice.

  “We need all our other horses.”

  “Well, we’ll take a look at your excess horse gear, although I doubt we’ll need any of it. Blankets too. We’ll come to a work arrangement. Come, dinner will be served soon, and we should get your animals all settled beforehand.”

  Settling the horses also involved showing their wares to the Amish. The horses were all brought to an open-sided stable that could temporarily house even more than their herd of fifteen. Five stalls remained empty after they filled the others, and Onida figured this was where visiting horses were always kept. While Askuwheteau was housed alongside them, he was immediately beset by the Amish, who inspected his quality and cleaned him up more than Onida had been capable of doing on the road. Everything they had that they were willing to trade was removed from their packs and put on display. The extra blankets were hung on a rack along one side of the stables, and everything else was placed on long shelves that ran along the backs of them. While they stayed there, the Amish could walk over and inspect their offerings, and propose whatever sort of trade they thought was fair. The Amish came across as trustworthy enough that neither Shawn nor Onida worried that any of their things would be stolen while they were away from them.

  Dinner was a communal affair, thanks to the visitors. Long tables had been set up not far from the stables, and food was laid out for all. It had become dark by then, but a plethora of candles kept everything well lit, whilst also providing a touch more warmth. Onida wondered if the hall where they had spoken was used for such meals when it was raining, or when the earth was covered with snow. She saw a couple of people, mostly older folk, who clearly wished they were already inside, as they wrapped blankets around their shoulders.

  Paul sat at the head of the table, with Shawn and Onida to his right, and Jacob and Jacob’s wife to his left. Onida wondered if that was the usual arrangement, or if Paul was being considerate of Shawn’s dislike of crowds by putting him on the end instead of in the middle somewhere. Throughout dinner, Shawn and Onida told Paul the kinds of things they could do, what skills they had to offer. They were also introduced to a number of families, for while there was to be another big meal just before they left, all their meals in between would be taken in different homes. Onida hoped they all tasted as good as this one. The mashed potatoes were especially yummy. Mask was even more skittish of the strangers than Shawn was, perhaps deciding that, unlike the time Onida had appeared, there were just too many of them. He seemed content to sit on Shawn’s lap, however, his little hands stealing food from Shawn’s plate, much to the amusement of Jacob’s wife.