Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel

by Linda Andrews

  "I've managed twenty-nine years without you, I think I can do fine on my own." When she reached for the door, he shifted until the knob dug into his spine.

  "I know your sister's whereabouts, and I can track her if she relocates."

  There was that. Of course, now that he knew where to start, Harlan could track his sister on his own. He didn't need her or her fancy technology.

  Inching closer, Sera placed her hand on his chest, rose on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I've also packed those energy bars you're fond of."

  He liked how she thought. Stepping aside, he opened the door and peered into the hallway. Empty. "We'll have to get you a change of clothes. That uniform will cause you to stand out."

  "Already thought of that." Grinning, she slipped ahead of him. Her ponytail swung under a ratty handkerchief. Instead of the usual uniform set, she wore drab-gray homespun skirt and a tunic. Thick woolen socks poked through her worn reed shoes.

  Well, damn, she'd gone all native on him. He crept after her down the hallway. Still, that glow of health would be noticeable and coveted. Especially where he was going. "There's just one more thing."

  An important thing, necessary to keep them both alive.

  Slowing, she rolled a cylinder in her hand before aiming at a rectangular sensor above the door. "Yes, I know, your world, your rules."

  When she depressed the cylinder's switch, a beam of red light shot out of the device. The lock's tumblers clicked then the door popped open.

  "Fire access." She rolled the cylinder in her palm then eased into the stairwell. "It overrides all the locks in the place. Would set off the alarms, too, but I disabled them."

  Yeah, yeah, whatever. Pulling the door shut behind him, he cupped her elbow, staying her descent. "Sera, we're going to need help to free the tributes."

  "I didn't think you could free just your sister and let the others stay with the 'Viders." She lifted up the hem of her tunic. In the bluish glow of the overhead light, she pressed something warm into his palm. "Two guns. One for you, one for me. Whatever help you hire have to supply their own weaponry."

  "That's fine." He pawed at his pack to tuck the gun inside.

  Her hand crept under his shirt, retrieved the stun-gun, and tucked it inside his waistband. "Keep it within reach."

  Son of a bitch. Only things he wanted belonged in his pants. Hissing, he yanked it out.

  "Relax. It can't shoot anything off." Pivoting, she descended. "But it can sting a whole lot, if it accidentally discharges."

  "You sound a little too happy when you say that." He stuffed the thing into his pocket.

  "I wouldn't wish you any harm." The stairs switched back and forth three times before they reached the second to last level. Using her toy, she shone the red beam again, and the door clicked open. With one hand on the knob, she peered out. "Coast is clear."

  Cold air snaked around his ankles. He held onto the back of her shirt and reeled her to his side. Now was the time to convince her to stay.

  Frowning, she glanced at him over her shoulder.

  But everyone should have a say in their lives. He released her. "Let me lead."

  Stepping to the side, she pressed the metal cylinder in his hand. "We're next to the warehouse at the train depot. Halfway down the fence, but before the guard's line of sight, there'll be a sensor. Flash the light at it and the panel should open, giving us access to the alley."

  Harlan crept into the night and blinked, adjusting his sight. The overhead lamps around them were dark. Part of the escape plan, no doubt. A brisk wind scored his cheeks and whipped his hair around his head.

  Sera sidled over to him, latched onto his shirt. "We have about three minutes before the lights brighten again."

  The door clicked shut.

  Harlan ghosted over the ground. The occasional crunch of gravel and tug on his waistband betrayed Sera’s presence.

  Horses jingled in harnesses. Workers in Dark Hope uniforms switched grain and other crops from wagons to rail cars. Guards stood in the towers rising from the corners of the loading platform. The glowing red eyes of cigarettes gave away their positions.

  None looked their way.

  He flashed the red beam and the fence slid to the side. After one last check, he slipped through. Rats skittered in the darkness and garbage rolled down the alley.

  Sera pulled the panel shut behind her. "These folks you plan to hire, you'll need to pay them, right?"

  Doing the right thing should be payment enough, but everything came down to gold——even saving human lives. Turning right, he headed for the bright lights of town. He just hoped the Aces and Eights gang would still run with him. "I'm sure they'd like to get paid."

  The bastards.

  They used to do so much just for the thrill——harassing the guards, stealing food from the society parties, picking pockets and sliding necklaces off of fat necks.

  "I have gold." She slipped her cold hand against his palm. "It's some of what you paid the boys to take the people to freedom."

  Gold? She had gold? He stopped and scanned her. Thank God it wasn't visible. He didn't want their throats slit because of trinkets. "Where?"

  "My bra."

  First place he'd...search. Second place was farther down. His hand tightened around hers. No one else would get that close to her.

  The clock in the square tolled three bells.

  Closing time for the saloons. He had to hurry if he hoped to find the boys in an agreeable mood. "Keep it, for now."

  He'd relocate it later.

  Picking up the pace, he plunged across the street and into the next alley. Horse-drawn carriages clattered along the main thoroughfares. Laughter competed with glittering jewels for space in the darkness. Hemming the edges of the streets, pickpockets waited while the Opera and theaters emptied. Drunks in fancy dress tottered along the sidewalks, debating the merits of nearby breeding houses.

  Shielding Sera from their gaze, Harlan skirted the shadows——far enough away so no one could grab them, but close enough to offer some protection from prying eyes. Ten minutes later, he arrived at the Deadwood saloon.

  The backdoor slammed open, and a sot stumbled out. Well shit, today was Harlan's lucky day. Built like a rectangle with a head——Wayne, the Eights and Aces' Sergeant-at-arms, wasn't exactly forgettable.

  Harlan pushed Sera against the wall. Her panting mingled with his. Good, it would serve a purpose. Raking off her handkerchief, he mussed up her hair and scrubbed his stubbled jaw over her smooth cheeks.

  She drove her fingers into his shoulders. "I take it you know that man, and this is part of your master plan."

  "He's our ticket inside." Harlan worked his way down her neck. Hers was like a summer garden, sweet-scented and warm. "You smell awfully damn clean."

  "You need to shave."

  Breathing hard, he pulled back. "Look, Peaches, I——"

  "Harry?" The drunk slurred as he staggered closer. "Harry Westminister, the saint of Abaddon."

  Harlan slammed his fist in Wayne's face. Pain zipped up his arm from the impact. "Don't call me Harry."

  "You always were an asshole." Wayne's nose crunched and his head snapped back. Blood gushed down his chin but he calmly reset his nose.

  Just as Harlan thought, Ol' Wayne wasn't as drunk as he pretended. Looping his arm around Sera's shoulders, he dragged her closer to his side. "When you'd get out? I thought you were digging ditches for the man."

  "Nah, that was just a misunderstanding." Wayne's eyes glittered in the dim light as he stared at Sera's breasts and lapped up the blood dripping from his nose.

  Right. The mayor admitted to his misunderstandings——over his enemy's corpse. Harlan's gut twisted. Their hatred of the mayor was the glue that held the Aces and Eights together. That couldn't have changed, could it?

  Sera snuggled close to him, ran her hand over his back and under his shirt.

  He stood a little straighter. She was really getting into her part. Then he felt it——the t
ug on the stun-gun. He grabbed her hand and squeezed.

  Wayne's attention slipped down Sera's body. "'Course, it only took the mayor three years to see his mistake, but then we never thought he was very bright."

  Harlan relaxed. That was the Wayne he knew. Now to see if the man's little head was still leading him astray.

  "She a breeder?"

  "Yep." Harlan slapped Sera's ass. "Show him what I've bought, Peaches."

  She yelped and rubbed her bottom. Anger flared brightly in her eyes.

  Yeah, he'd pay for it later.

  She bared her teeth and turned slowly. "Sure thing, Harry."

  Practically salivating, Wayne hitched up his pants. "You keeping her?"

  "Might outta." Harlan hauled her next to his side, before Wayne could paw her. He'd hate to have to kill the man. "She's eager, but I gotta make one last score to pay off Katsura."

  Sera snuggled close, buried her face in his neck then bit his ear. Hard.

  Tears swam in his vision. Holy shit! She'd probably drawn blood. Why had he brought her along? Being distracted, even around his old friends, wasn't good.

  "Rescuing folks pay that good?"

  Pinching her arm, Harlan snorted. "I gave that up years ago. Stuck with what I know."

  She sucked in a gasp, but behaved.

  For now. She was sneaky that way. As long as he didn't suffer for it, he could admire the trait.

  Wayne nodded his head toward the saloon's entrance. "What do you know?"

  Holding her close, Harlan headed for the entrance. "I know there's lots of folks with gold outta the mayor's reach. No reason I shouldn't help myself to a bit of it."

  "Yeah?"

  "Yep." Harlan didn't step over the threshold. As a former gang member, the current ones would knock the shit out of him and take Sera if he entered.

  Sure enough, a few gathered in the entrance. No doubt wanting to spill his blood to the admiring glances of the other members.

  Wayne grinned. "I see the woman hasn't made you soft."

  "Quite the opposite." Harlan felt her laugh into his shoulder. "Gotta run. My future's looking golden."

  He dragged her down the alley.

  She glanced over his shoulder. "Why are we leaving? I thought they were your help."

  "Rule one."

  "Which rule one, that I'm sex bait and they're rendered stupid by my allure."

  Harlan shrugged. Another few steps should do it. "Not so much yours, but gold's."

  She stiffened, gripped his index and middle finger and squeezed until the bones ground together. "Then why did you tell them I was a breeder?"

  Dammit, he needed those fingers unmashed. Removing the stun-gun from his pocket, he pressed it to her side. "The mayor and his cronies take all the women of a certain age around here. Either you pay for a woman's company or your hand becomes your best friend for life. A woman, a wife, is the best any of us could ever achieve. We dreamt of it as boys."

  It was a powerful thing.

  And its hold hadn't been broken by time.

  She released him. "Sorry."

  He shook his hand. "Spare me the words and give me half your energy bar."

  Wayne pounded after him. "The old exit's blocked."

  "There's another." But Harlan stopped before saying where. He hoped Sera could make one. Hell, with her technology, they could just fly over the wall.

  "This town..." Wayne cleared his throat. "You think there's enough gold for a few of us guys? You know, for not kicking your ass, just now."

  Harlan hid his smile. Greed, gotta love it. "I don't know..."

  Wayne bounced on the balls of his feet. "Some of us could get horses, maybe a wagon."

  "There's not that much gold." Harlan forced a laugh.

  Wayne laughed with him. "I meant for the women. There's more like her there, isn't there? Healthy, needing a real man."

  Sera blinked at him from under her lashes. "I have two sisters." She giggled and looked down.

  What the hell. She didn't flirt with him. He got bit and poked and wrestled to the ground. Okay, that part wasn't too bad. Tightening his hold on her, Harlan straightened. "Old oak tree at sunrise and bring two extra horses or no deal."

  "Yes, I'll be there." Wayne fist-pumped the air then ran back to the saloon.

  As soon as the door slammed closed, Sera eased out of his arms. "You trust them?"

  "With my life? Never again." Harlan fingered the scars under his tattoo. "But I trust they'll do whatever they have to for gold."

  "Rule number one?"

  Yep, and it was a pisser, especially for folks like him. "Whoever has the gold makes the rules."

  Chapter 29

  Belle trudged passed the town's welcome sign. Sanctuary was no safe haven from the 'Viders. Screams punctuated the night. Smoke and the metallic scent of blood thickened the air. The severed heads of the town's leaders gaped at her from their position atop planted spears. New village, same ending. Covering Sol's eyes, Belle veered away from the heart of the town.

  Torches burned brightly, creating a macabre dance of shadows. Lights flickered in empty window panes. 'Viders looking for weapons, as well as survivors, dipped in an out of the buildings. Belongings, someone's prized possessions, were tossed in piles, waiting for the touch of flame to become a bon fire.

  Pleas and cries scratched her conscience, begging for mercy, a blanket, a touch of kindness. All for nothing. She wanted to clamp her hands over her ears, block out the pleas.

  Pulling the travois, Nattie sauntered next to Belle. "It's too late to set up the tent."

  Nodding, Belle slowed to check on her oldest daughter. Cat slept on the travois, curled around baby John. Belle adjusted the blanket over her then kept walking toward the darkness. It was safe in the shadows, away from the 'Viders’ victory celebration. Away from the memories of when those had been her belongings on the bonfire, her town's leaders' heads on spears, her parents brutally killed for the 'Viders' amusement.

  "I am tired. But the tent must go up. It's too cold for the children outside." Where they could see the brutality. She turned her back on the carnage. Her arms, legs and back throbbed. She couldn't feel her toes and a chill had numbed her nose.

  But it was nothing compared to what the conquered must be enduring.

  She knew this, and still she did nothing.

  Nattie hummed tunelessly under her breath.

  Two preteen 'Vider males pounded rocks on a corpse near a house. The body jumped with each strike.

  Belle fixed her attention on a yard further down the street. Sometimes she envied Nattie. Crazy blocked out the suffering, leaving behind only the nice things. Warm sheets smelling of sunshine, baking bread and the closeness of family existed in the world she'd lost. Perhaps if she lost her mind, she'd find them again.

  Sol stirred in Belle's arms before softly snoring against her neck.

  Belle tightened her grip on her daughter. She couldn't leave her daughters and newborn son, no matter how attractive the alternative.

  "We could find a house." Nattie's matted hair wiggled down her back when she jerked her head toward a cottage on the right.

  "No. No house." Belle's heart beat double-time. A house. Four solid walls and a floor. Her children had never spent the night in one. And she... She'd only done so once after becoming tribute. Despite the chilly night air, sweat pooled under her armpits.

  A year after North had claimed her, the 'Viders had overrun another village. Their third since her own had fallen. Blood had soiled the pristine snow. Since she'd been pregnant with Stiletto, North had selected a house for her. She'd been inside for not more than five minutes when a kid had dropped from the attic.

  All lanky legs and arms, he couldn't have been much older than her brother Harlan. His eyes were saucers in his head, and blood matted his dark hair where he'd been hit but not killed.

  She must have made a sound because North had reached her side in an instant. Axe swinging, he'd hacked the boy in pieces. The kid had stared at
her the entire time, mouth open, hand outstretched, begging for help.

  Shaking off the memory, Belle swiped at the tears blurring her vision and turned into the nearest yard. "I'll pitch the tent."

  A little house sprawled behind a green lawn. Boards shuttered some of the windows, curtains fluttered from others. The porch roof sagged in the middle. Moving deeper into the yard, soft grass sprang under her feet. Chickens roosted on the stoop of a small coop.

  Her stomach growled. They would taste good——fried. It would be a shame for perfectly good food to go to waste. Lord knew the 'Viders wouldn't eat them. All animals but humans were considered unclean.

  Nattie freed herself from the harness and set the tip of the travois on a rickety chair. "Do you think human flesh tastes like chicken?"

  Belle stumbled. Tightening her grip on her daughter, she staggered a few feet before finding her footing. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

  "You must have tasted it.'Vider North has a big appetite and always picked the biggest slabs allowed." Placing her fists on her hips, Nattie frowned at the house. "I always thought it tasted like squirrel, little gamey but sweet."

  Belle laid Sol on the porch swing before tucking her shawl around her tiny body. "North always had a big appetite."

  For everything.

  When he'd first claimed her, he had been rising in the 'Vider ranks and hadn't been given many tribute. Although he'd offered her a small portion of the meat he'd been given, she always refused. Sometimes, she thought he'd been almost as relieved as she had been.

  Later, when 'Vider food became plentiful, his demands became more insistent. He'd loomed over her while she was cooking, shaking a bloody slab. The act seemed more for show. "But as long as I kept conceiving, he never insisted I eat the 'Vider meat."

  Never hit her for refusing.

  Heavens, he'd even eat her wild roots and vegetable stews when the meat ran low. Of course, any animal meat was carefully shoved to the side.

  Nattie pushed her hair out of her face. "In all the years you've been with the 'Viders you've never eaten their meat?"

  "Never." She was rather proud of the accomplishment. Rubbing her arms against the chill, Belle approached the chicken coop. Killing and plucking a chicken was beyond her tonight, but eggs would be good for dinner. "What about you?"