Crimson

by Jordan Summers

  “We should make a break for it,” she whispered from behind. “We’re about to run out of mountain.”

  Morgan looked around and saw the foothills up ahead. “Okay, but first, you need to change. We’ll go a lot faster if you do.”

  Her eyes grew wide.

  He knew she was afraid, but she had to do this. If for nothing else than to prove to herself that she could. They stopped. Gina removed her pack and shoes. Her clothes were loose enough that they shouldn’t rip from the change.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Ready,” she said, then stepped back.

  Pain shot through Red, searing her flesh like someone was trying to skin her alive. For a second, she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She heard bones snapping, then felt the agony of them reshaping into something that remained foreign to her. Claws shot out where her fingernails had been moments ago. Her teeth were ejected, replaced by longer fangs; canines that were made for tearing at flesh and devouring it.

  She cried out before she could stop herself and dropped to her knees, clutching her abdomen. Blood spattered the sand around her, staining the rocks crimson. She closed her eyes as the world seemed to implode. When Red opened them again, it was complete sensory overload.

  Despite the impending dusk, everything came alive. She could see scavengers prowling in the distance; hear their feet upon the sand. The air even smelled different, more savage than it had moments ago.

  She sniffed, picking up something else. Guards. At least she thought they were guards, since the odor was coming from the outpost they were headed to in the distance.

  “Can you stand?” Morgan rasped.

  She looked at him through the eyes of a predator and her nostrils flared. A rumbling growl came out of Morgan’s chest and she quickly lowered her eyes. Red nodded or at least she hoped she did, then scrambled to her feet. She lifted the pack, which now felt like it weighed nothing and struggled to get it on her back. Morgan helped, then gave her a quick lick when he was done.

  “We must move. I can hear the Sand Devil vehicles in the distance. They are driving around the mountains.”

  Red’s ears perked, twitching this way and that until she found what he’d heard. The low hum of the vehicles was a steady drone and they were getting louder. Their threat was imminent. She growled, her ears pinning back against her head. She wanted to find them and drag them from their transports.

  “There’s no time,” Morgan said, his voice garbled due to the change. “Run now, fight later.” He tugged at her arm.

  Red followed reluctantly. The need to stand and fight was great. She didn’t like being hunted under normal circumstances, but in her Other form, it was unbearable. She was a predator—not food. The Sand Devils would learn that if they kept coming.

  They raced across the desert floor, running faster than she’d ever run in her life. The sights, sounds, and smells of the world around her kept distracting her and she nearly tumbled on a couple of occasions. Still she managed to keep her feet and continue.

  Morgan was yipping in excitement and she joined in. It was the first time they’d ever had the chance to run together and they made the most of it by butting into each other’s shoulders and nipping playfully. Red wished that the circumstances had been better. She’d prayed this would happen when she was in Nuria.

  Night after night she’d stood in a clearing attempting to force the change and it had eluded her. Yet today it had embraced her, welcomed her with open talons as if it had anticipated her arrival. It was cause for celebration, when there was so little to celebrate.

  “We’re almost there.” Morgan nudged her. Red could tell he was enjoying the freedom of running with his mate for the very first time. She prayed it wouldn’t be the last.

  chapter twenty

  M

  organ and Red approached the outpost cautiously. They kept their weapons holstered, but they’d charged them beforehand just in case. The outpost looked like an upside-down metal bowl with a door and three windows carved out of it. The windows didn’t hold glass; instead metal had been pounded and tied together in primitive shutters.

  Three towers with crude rope ladders formed a triangle around the outpost, giving the guards an unobstructed view of the area. Like the first group they’d encountered, a pit surrounded the whole compound. Unlike that first group, this pit was filled with razor-sharp glass and pieces of metal that had been molded into spikes. There was no way of crossing it without being cut to pieces.

  “State your business,” the guard to their left shouted.

  Morgan and Red raised their arms in the air. They’d shedded their Other form to appear less threatening and to prevent panic.

  “We are looking for Razor. The Sand Moles sent us. They said you might have some communication equipment we could use or barter for,” Morgan said.

  “Who told you such a thing?” the guard to the right hollered.

  “Jeb,” Red said.

  The two guards looked at each other, then back at Morgan and Red.

  “Jeb wouldn’t do that,” the guard on the left said. “He knows better.”

  “You must be Razor,” Morgan said.

  “I am,” the guard on the left said.

  “How else could we have found you, if not for Jeb?” Morgan asked. “We are traders who have never been to this area.”

  The guard on the right said, “Maybe we should ask Jonah.”

  Razor didn’t look happy about the prospect. “What do you have to trade?” he asked, looking them over carefully.

  “Weapons. A few supplies. We will pay for anything we use,” Morgan said.

  “With what?” the guard on the right asked, suspicion clear.

  “Credits,” Red said.

  “Show me,” Razor said.

  “Let’s see the equipment first,” she said.

  Razor pondered their proposition while the guard on the right waited.

  “Okay,” he finally said. “Drop your weapons and come across the bridge, but if you make any sudden moves, you’re dead.”

  Red glanced at Morgan, who nodded for her to comply. She unbuckled her holster and let if fall to the ground. She felt naked without her laser pistol. They walked across the small bridge with their hands held high and stopped when they reached the other side. Razor had managed to scurry down the rope ladder and was waiting when they arrived.

  “Remove your packs and drop them on the ground.”

  Red looked up and saw that the guard on the right had them covered from above. She shrugged and did as they asked, dropping her backpack onto the sandy flat. Morgan followed suit.

  “Now can we please speak with Jonah?” she asked, hoping that he was more intelligent than the two guarding the entrance. She glanced up, noticing four more in the towers. She squinted. Make that six guarding the back and the front entrances.

  Razor motioned them forward with the barrel of his rifle. Morgan told Red to lead the way. It seemed the gentlemanly thing to do, but Red knew that wasn’t why he’d offered. Morgan wanted to put his body between her and the gun.

  They walked to the reinforced metal door and waited. Razor hit a spot on the ground with his boot heel and something clanged. Red looked over her shoulder at Morgan and frowned. His expression was placid. Deceptive under the circumstances. He waited patiently for the door to open.

  They didn’t have to wait long. The big metal door slid open with a scraping noise that Red had no doubt came from sand buildup. Darkness greeted them.

  “Get inside,” Razor said, nudging Morgan with the rifle.

  Morgan looked at the gun, then grinned at the man. Razor’s eyes widened and he took a step back, forgetting he was the one who was armed. Red faced the darkened entry and stepped over the threshold. She waited for her eyes to adjust before going any further. It didn’t take long. The place looked like a warehouse of some sort, but for what she couldn’t tell. Morgan walked forward and stopped at her side.

  “Where’s this Jonah you spoke of?”
he turned to ask Razor, but he was gone, shutting the door behind him.

  Morgan rushed forward, but couldn’t stop it in time. “Damn,” he said, pressing his hand all over the door. “I can’t feel a handle. There doesn’t seem to be a way of opening it from the inside.”

  “Is this a trap?” Red’s skin began to itch at the thought of being stuck in here. The wolf suddenly wanted out. She rolled her shoulders and tried to relax.

  Morgan inhaled. “No, I don’t think so. I smell a pureblood. The scent is fresh, but he’s not in here with us.”

  “Sure it’s not Razor?” she asked.

  “Positive. This scent isn’t malodorous.”

  She looked around. “Then where in the hell is he?” Red asked, inching forward, her senses on high alert.

  Morgan sniffed and she did the same. Despite the dust clinging to the metal crates, the air smelled clean, like it was blowing in from outside. They didn’t spot any vents, nor did they see anything out of the ordinary.

  “There’s something about this place that’s familiar,” Morgan said.

  “You’re not saying you’ve been here.”

  “No, nothing like that,” he said.

  “Then what do you mean?” she asked, looking at the shadows. From what she could tell the warehouse was full of nothing but junk.

  He began to examine the area. “I’ve seen this type of building before.”

  “A warehouse? I have, too, and they pretty much all look the same,” Red said.

  “Shh—” Morgan said, moving in circles around the room. “I think I hear something.”

  Red listened, but didn’t immediately hear anything. She listened harder and caught a whirling sound coming from the floor. It was followed by a strong vibration. “What is that?” she asked, backing toward the door they’d come through.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s an elevator.”

  “Here? In the middle of no-man’s-land?” Red asked. He might as well have proclaimed this place a hydrogen car factory. How could a dilapidated warehouse hold a working elevator? It wasn’t possible. There was no power here. You hadn’t thought there’d be vehicles here either, a little voice in her head chided.

  Morgan studied the floor some more, tapping his foot here and there.

  “What are you doing?” Red asked.

  “Looking for the door,” he said.

  Maybe the heat had gotten to him. It was possible he was suffering from heat exhaustion, even though they’d made an effort to remain hydrated. He continued to bounce and tap on the floor.

  “Morgan, you aren’t making sense. There’s nothing here but mechanical ghosts. Demery was wrong. The guards were just trying to trap us with that talk of Jonah. He probably doesn’t even exist.” They’d left Demery for nothing. Her heart sank as she realized they’d finally run out of options.

  The whirling sound grew louder and Morgan stepped back. Red moved closer to him.

  “It’s coming,” he said, a smile flitting across his lips.

  Red stepped into his arms as the floor opened up. She gasped, her eyes widening as the hole grew larger and larger. Would it swallow the room and them with it? She looked up to judge the distance to the beams that ran along the ceiling. Could they jump and reach them in time?

  A platform appeared a moment later. A blond-haired man stood in the center, holding a device in his hand that had a red button and a green button on it. A large pistol was tucked into a holster and strapped to his leg.

  “You must be the traders Razor spoke of. Don’t get many around these parts outside of the Sand Moles. At least not any who aren’t out to cause trouble. Are you looking for trouble?” he asked, his gaze sliding to Morgan.

  “No,” he said.

  Red said nothing.

  “I prefer the lady’s response,” he said. “It’s more honest.”

  “But I didn’t say anything,” Red said.

  “Exactly. You don’t talk. You can’t lie.” The man smiled and beckoned them forward with one tanned hand. The other held the device tight as if he were afraid they’d rip it away.

  Morgan placed his hand on the small of Red’s back and guided her onto the platform.

  “What is this thing?” she asked.

  “If I’m not mistaken, it’s an old missile silo,” Morgan said.

  “You are correct, Mr. Hunter,” the man said, pressing the green button once they’d joined him.

  “You know my name?”

  The man grinned mischievously. “Everyone around here knows your names. Bounties tend to make their own kind of introductions.” The man turned to face Red. “And you must be Gina Santiago. I can’t wait to hear all about what you’ve done to warrant such a high price.”

  Red’s stomach dipped from his words and the sudden descent.

  “Where are my manners? My name is Jonah. No call for surnames out here.” He held out his hand, which was surprisingly clean given the conditions of the warehouse. So were his clothes, come of think of it. Red felt a twinge of jealousy. She’d give her left boot for a cleansing unit.

  Morgan shook his hand. Red just looked at it, then at him. He seemed courteous enough, but she still might have to kill him. Like the elevator, Jonah was an anomaly. Red didn’t like anomalies. They made her nervous. Jonah wiped his hand on the side of his gray pants and nodded.

  She couldn’t see the bottom of the shaft. Red could barely make out the top. The doors slowly slid shut, leaving them in complete darkness. Her heart leapt, then slammed into her ribs. The darkness felt like it was closing in, taking all the oxygen with it. She fought the panic clawing at her throat. She couldn’t breathe.

  “Morgan?” she called out.

  His hand found hers with ease and he pulled her into his body. “It’s okay. Take a deep breath. We’re almost there,” he murmured.

  “How can you tell?” she asked.

  “Most of these things are around 176 to 200 feet deep. Just large enough to accommodate a missile, a well, kitchen, rec area, storage space, living quarters, and a command center. At least the ones I’ve been inside of.”

  “He’s right, you know,” Jonah said. “We’ve arrived.”

  On cue, the platform stopped with a slight jerk. Red could hear Jonah patting the wall in search of something. She was afraid to move for fear she’d fall off into the abyss.

  “Here it is,” he said. Something clicked and lights came on all around them.

  Red blinked, temporarily blinded. A door stood five feet away. It had a round handle of some sort. Red had never seen one before. “What is that?” she asked Morgan.

  He smiled. “It’s called a hatch. You spin the wheel to open and close it.”

  “Really?” she asked. “Why doesn’t it just open when we approach?”

  Jonah chuckled. “I fear we’re a little old-fashioned around these parts. Don’t have the modern amenities found in your dome cities.”

  Red watched him spin the wheel. There was a loud clank and the door swung open on creaky hinges. Jonah stepped through and waved them forward.

  “This way,” he said.

  Morgan went through the door next. Red followed, but stopped to examine the wheel. It appeared to move in only two directions, left and right. She spun it back and forth, using one hand, then both. It was kind of fun.

  “Does it do anything else?” she asked, turning it again.

  “Nope,” Morgan said, prying her fingers off the hatch. “Let’s go. You can play with it later.”

  The hallway had lights like she’d never seen affixed to the walls about every twenty feet. She could see Jonah moving ahead of them. He didn’t seem too concerned about his safety. He had a pistol on his thigh, but he wasn’t even watching them—or maybe he was. Red looked around and immediately spotted digital recorders.

  The hall was bare with thick concrete walls and a matching floor. Sound traveled, but quickly muted.

  “How thick are these walls?” she asked.

  “Very,” Morgan said. “The shaft
we just came down was used to launch missiles. These walls had to be thick enough to contain the blast.”

  “What are those?” She pointed to the balls stuck on all the doors.

  “Those are called door knobs. You turn them to open and close the doors just like the hatch.”

  Red approached one cautiously and tried to turn it. The metal felt cool to the touch, but nothing happened. “I think this one’s broken,” she said.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Because it doesn’t turn,” she said. “See?” She tried the knob again, but it merely rattled in her grip.

  Morgan smiled indulgently. “It’s probably locked.”

  Her lips pursed. “I keep forgetting that you’re from this world,” she said softly.

  “I’m in your world now.” He reached for her hand.

  Instead of giving it a reassuring squeeze, Morgan laced his fingers through hers and held on as they walked.

  “I’ve never been this far underground. Do you think Jonah will have what we need? And if he does, will the equipment work from here?” she asked.

  “He should,” Morgan said. “Most missile silos came equipped with communication centers. They were made to work underground. We just have to hope that no one looted this one before Jonah moved in.”

  Jonah waited for them at the end of the hall. He stood in front of another metal door.

  “This way,” he said, opening it and then stepping aside.

  Morgan dropped Red’s hand and walked forward to look inside. “It’s okay,” he said.

  She followed. There was a decent-size room and another long hall, except this one had several doors shooting off from the main hall.

  “Welcome to Eden,” Jonah said after they were all in the room.

  Red looked around at the sparse mismatched furnishings and the metal doors. Nothing about this place reminded her of the biblical Eden. Eden was supposed to be lush, green, and bursting with life. This place was just the opposite with its sterile gray walls, beige, green, and orange furniture, and steel doors. Her expression must have given away her thoughts.