Instinct Ascending: Rabids Book 2

by Amy Cook

  “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to just break down on you like that.”

  Alexander shook his head sternly, respectfully moving back to his place across the table now that she had control of herself.

  “No. Please. That’s why I came. I’ve been wanting to come check up on you; I promised you and Jaron both that I would. But things kept getting in the way. When the date neared, I knew I had to come, no matter the obstacles. I couldn’t leave you alone, not on this day of all days. The men needed time out anyways. It was the perfect opportunity.” He leaned closer.

  “And honestly, soldiers lose track of the current date all the time. With so many of our friends dying every day, we don’t much keep track of time anymore. The only reason I remembered was because we shared birthdays. And every year, my grandma sends me a birthday card. The card got here yesterday. Jaron can think we’re both jerks.” He chuckled tentatively, clearly hoping she’d find humor in his joke. She did. Leaning back against the booth bench, she laughed, expending what was left of her emotional outburst earlier.

  “Thank you, Alexander. Truly, thank you.”

  Her brother’s best friend grinned bashfully, digging into his food.

  “Wow. This is really, really good.”

  “We have the best cook here.” She grinned.

  “My compliments to the chef.” He cut another piece of the sausage with his fork and knife, bringing it to his mouth with a mannerly ease.

  “You come from money,” she stated bluntly. Alexander choked on his food for a moment, swallowing it down with a gulp of orange juice.

  “Excuse me?”

  Amiel grinned, pointing at his plate. His cheeks flushed slightly, knowing he was caught. “Jaron used to tease me about the way I ate, too.” He smiled, reminiscent. “He shoveled food in his mouth like a pig, all too happy to throw his manners out the window and laugh in their face. Guess it’s just bred too deep in me to let it go.”

  Amiel grinned, easily picturing Jaron shoveling food in his face, just because he knew manners dictated he shouldn’t.

  “Not many people from your status end up in the military. How did you end up there? If you don’t mind telling me, I mean.”

  “My story isn’t too different than Jaron’s, I guess. I came from money, with parents that were impossible to please, and a profession I didn’t want. Only, my dad pushed me into joining. It was his idea of punishment for a son he was so disappointed in that he disowned him.”

  Amiel’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, Alexander.”

  “Don’t be. I found out later he was furious because the profession I turned down was supposed to pull them out of their massive debt.” He drew his thumb across his throat. “Disinherited out of my own fifty bucks. Now he has creditors breathing down his neck, and I’ve got Rabids breathing down mine. I’d say I came out on top.” He offered a wink at Amiel before digging in one of the many pockets of his pants.

  “Which reminds me — this came in Jaron’s name before we left the base.” He handed her a thick envelope. Opening it up, she found a letter from Jaron’s old attorney, explaining the deed also included in the envelope. She suddenly remembered the banker telling her that Jaron had left her property in addition to the money, and that someone would be in contact with her about it later. Apparently later was now. While the envelope was in Jaron’s name, the deed itself was in Amiel’s. The letter informed her that she had exclusive rights to the property, that the entire thing was paid off, and listed the address. She showed Alexander, who let out an impressed whistle.

  “Just do me a favor and don’t check it out at night, or alone. That place has been abandoned this whole time; it might be filled with Rabids or Cuts or street people. None of it good news for a pretty lady.”

  “I promise.” She grinned. Her eyes caught on the stamp near Jaron’s name, signing the property over to her. It was the symbol stamped on every entry in his journals. She rubbed a finger over it, the deed feeling heavy in her hands: heavy with promise and adventure. What was this place that Jaron had left to her? Amiel glanced up, noticing the return of Greysen’s soldiers, two large military trucks pulling up in front of the restaurant.

  “Looks like your entourage has returned.” She winked, already feeling sad to see him go. Having Greysen around was like having a piece of Jaron around.

  “They can wait; I still got five minutes and four bites.” He chuckled, munching down on another forkful of eggs. Amiel chuckled, looking up as the door opened. Her grin faded at the sight of the angry girl, and Alexander quickly turned around to see what upset her.

  “Lucy,” Alexander warned, standing up. Lucy ignored him, eyes locked on Amiel.

  “You’re the reason he’s dead. I just want you to know that.”

  “You’re out of line,” Alexander growled, shifting to stand in her way.

  “Maybe. I’ll deal with the consequences later. But I’ll face them with a smile, knowing I’ve told her. Christian deserves that much.” She peeked around Alexander’s frame. “Your family is the scourge of the earth. They say it’s the Rabids, but it’s really people like your family that were killing off our humanity long before the infected came.” She turned and stalked out the door, several soldiers quickly moving to usher her away from the restaurant, apologetic expressions on their faces.

  “Alexander?” Amiel asked timidly. His shoulders were stiff, back straight. Very slowly, he turned to face her, and the emotion in his eyes told her there was some truth to what the girl had just said. He quietly came to sit back at the booth, taking her hands in his.

  “She’s not normally like that. She’s mourning a friend.”

  Amiel swallowed. “Christian?”

  Alexander nodded. “Jaron sent him on a special mission a few years ago.”

  “What kind of mission?”

  “He was sent to befriend and protect someone. Someone special. We just received news two days ago that he was found dead.” He looked up at Amiel. “You knew him as Jeller.”

  Amiel’s heart plummeted to her toes. “What?” Her voice lost its power, the word coming out barely audible.

  “I didn’t want you to find out this way, not today of all days. I tried to leave her behind at base, but she threw a fit, and I couldn’t keep her from coming. She has many friends amongst the ranks and it would have caused disorder. My superiors ordered me to let her come.”

  Amiel reeled. Jeller was a soldier? Thinking back on him now, she could see it so easily: his stature; his keen intellect and insight; his honor and morality. How had she missed it before? It had never felt right for him to be in the butler position, the job never feeling like it fit him. And then there was the time she’d joked about his name, teasing him over the fact that she doubted it was his real name. He’d grinned so secretively. Her stomach hollowed.

  “He’s dead?”

  “We all have marks that identify us for what company we belong to. It’s etched into the bone of our lower left leg. It’s a way of marking us, in case Rabids get us. There isn’t much left when they are done, but a mark in the bone is usually still discernible if you can make it past the teeth marks.” His fists clenched.

  “Remember I told you we have contacts all over the country, that if you needed us, they could help?” He waited for her to nod. “They found Christian holed up in a section of the forest. He’d drug himself into the trees, tried to defend himself. Signs point to him having been beaten very badly, much of his body broken, before he even ended up in the forest. They found the mark in his bone and connected it to our company.”

  “You mean, someone did that to him? Not just Rabids, but a real person?” she whispered, heart aching. Alexander nodded slowly, and her mouth went dry.

  “What… what did she mean… about my family, about me being responsible?” Foreboding hung over her head like a meat cleaver. Alexander’s eyes shifted to stare at the table.

  “She was always angry at Jaron for sending him away. Rumor has it Christian and Lucy had a thing;
or at least she thought they did. But…” He paused. “Our intel has reason to believe it was your mother that had him tortured and killed.”

  “My mother?” Amiel gasped, her achy heart freezing.

  “They did some digging around. It wasn’t difficult to find evidence pointing toward that answer.”

  “Why? Why would she do such a thing to him?”

  Alexander watched her carefully, clearly unsure whether he should say anything.

  “Jaron was worried about you. He’d been stressing a lot, back then. We were worried about him, too. It wasn’t too long after he got the tags, actually,” Alexander mused. Shaking his head, he refocused on his story.

  “It wasn’t Jaron’s idea to send Christian away. He was hung up on the idea that he should be there to protect you, wracked with guilt over it. Christian and I pulled straws on who would ditch duty and go look after you. Christian won; he left, I stayed. It was our idea, and Jaron didn’t know until the deed was done. Jaron told everyone that he had sent Christian on an important mission, so Christian wouldn’t face charges for his actions. But even though it wasn’t his idea, the change in Jaron was immeasurable. He was instantly put at ease, knowing one of his best men and friends was there looking out for you, befriending you. No one knew Christian’s real mission until now.”

  “You think Jaron knew my mother was capable of murder? That’s why he was so worried about me?” Amiel asked uneasily.

  “We all knew she was a witch, but I don’t think Jaron knew she was capable of this. If he did, I don’t think he would have left you there. He would have sent Christian with orders to bring you back. I think he truly thought you were safer there, physically.” A man walked through the door, a strained expression on his darkly tanned skin.

  “Sir, everyone is back. We need to move out.”

  Greysen nodded, dismissing the man, before turning back to her. “I won’t have a cell for a while yet. But I will try to stay in touch with letters until then.”

  “The cellphones.” She paused, realization dawning. “Jeller… Christian, told me he did deals on the black market, selling cellphones.”

  Alexander grinned sadly, confirming her unasked questions. “He is how we always got our cells. It’s why I haven’t gotten another one yet. I’m trying to get back in touch with his contacts, but the man dealt in smoke and shadows.” His words were spoken fondly, reminiscent of his old friend’s skills. “I have to go; we need to be back on patrol. Are you okay?” He stood, smoothing out his uniform, clearly unsure how to leave now that he’d dropped such a big bomb on her head.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. She constrained the voice in her head that was screaming that she wasn’t, that she was on the verge of collapse. “I just have one more question. In Jaron’s journals, he stamped this symbol in each corner of the page. Like a bird flying out of flames. What is it?”

  “A phoenix rising from the ashes. It symbolizes rebirth, a never-ending cycle to life. Jaron had them carve it into his bone next to our company mark. It reminded him that there was more to life than the death we saw. It kind of became his crest. The goof was so obsessed with it, he even had a stamp made out of it, so he didn’t have to draw it out every time.” He offered a sad smile. Amiel’s eyes grew distant.

  “We all burn, yet from the ashes gain new strength.”

  Alexander blinked. “Yeah. Jaron used to say that all the time.”

  “Thank you, Alexander.” Amiel stood, hugging the soldier close. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I’m sorry to leave you on such a rough note. I wouldn’t have burdened you with this — not now.”

  “No, I needed to know. And I’m tougher than I look.”

  “I know you are. You’re Jaron’s kid sister.” He squeezed her tighter, before standing back and offering a salute.

  “Stay safe, Amiel. I’ll be in contact when I can.” With that, her brother’s best friend walked out the door. Amiel watched, her soul burning from the hate-filled gaze of Lucy as they all entered the vehicles and disappeared down the dark road. Joyce suddenly appeared at her side.

  “Wow. What a hullabaloo. That’s the most excitement I’ve seen in this place all year.”

  “Yeah,” Amiel whispered, her mind swirling.

  “You okay, Hun?”

  “Not at all,” she replied woodenly, eyes staring into the night, shoulders heavy under a burden of guilt and mourning.

  “Oh, Suga.” Joyce reached to hug her from behind. Amiel stood stiff under her friend’s touch, emotions locked tightly away. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I’ve lost Harley, it’s my brother’s birthday, a good friend died in a terrible way that I’m partly responsible for, and I just found out my mother is a psychopathic murderer.”

  “Yikes. That’s a lot to take in.” Joyce stood silently for a long moment, clearly trying to decide how to best approach the matter. “But, Suga, you ain’t lost me, and I’m here to make things right.”

  Amiel smiled half-heartedly. “Thanks, Joyce, but I don’t think you can.”

  Joyce turned Amiel by the shoulders so that she faced her. “Well, unfortunately there’s not much I can do about the psychopathic murderin’ mama, or the loss of loved ones. But there’s only one cure for men trouble and heartache.” She paused dramatically. “Girls’ night.”

  “Girls’ night?” Amiel mumbled, thinking back to the girls’ nights she’d had with Charleen, and her heart ached just a little more.

  “Yep! You and me. I’ll pick you up at three, and we’ll have a good ol’ time in memory of that sweet brother of yours, and the friend you lost.” Joyce spun happily away, not leaving time to argue. Honestly, Amiel didn’t have the strength to argue anyway. Her head fell forward to press against the cold glass, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

  A burning from the tags had her head jerking upright, blurred eyes searching the night. But as quickly as the burning came, it disappeared, and she didn’t see a single Rabid in the street. Rubbing the goose bumps from her arms, she stepped away from the window and the feeling of eyes crawling across her skin. The twitching and trembling in her hands kicked up twofold.

  Chapter 40

  Amiel

  Amiel stood outside the apartment complex long before three. She had pushed every piece of furniture in front of the apartment door before she slept, hoping it would be enough of an annoyance that her other side wouldn’t take her for an early morning slaying. After waking and finding the apartment in a state of dishevel, but no signs of having actually left the apartment, Amiel had spent the rest of her time meditating, in search of the center of her storm. She hadn’t found it. Not even a glimpse of it. Filled with that nervous energy, Amiel had been pacing in front of the gates for the last hour. Unfortunately, it had done little to diminish that energy.

  Joyce finally pulled up in a taxi cab, and Amiel swallowed her anticipation. Today was a new day, and she was going to seize the crap out of it. Flinging herself into the taxi, she looped arms with Joyce.

  “Mind if I take the lead on this girls’ night?”

  Joyce eyed her in surprise, before smiling and waving her hands.

  “Why not! It’s your day, Suga; you lead, I follow.” It was the answer Amiel had hoped for. Leaning forward, she arranged to have the driver as their personal driver for the rest of the day. Joyce’s eyes bugged out of her head.

  “You’re kidding me, right?”

  “No,” Amiel stated firmly.

  “Money bags,” Joyce teased. Amiel grinned and told the driver their destination. After a twenty-minute drive across town, they pulled up in front of a huge building. Joyce looked at it apprehensively.

  “Uh… I know I said y’all could take the lead on this, Suga, but I’m tellin’ ya now, I ain’t real keen on ghost huntin’.”

  Amiel grinned, moving toward one of the huge windows in front. Wiping away the muck on the glass, she peered inside. The room was huge and lavish, though it was dirty and disheveled.
/>   “It’s a restaurant,” Joyce murmured in surprise, peering through a clean spot of her own on the glass. “A huge, beautiful one in its heyday, I bet.”

  Amiel pulled away from the glass. A huge restaurant. What were the chances of that? After all of her stewing and contemplating this morning, to have this tidbit placed before her was like a sign that she was headed in the right direction.

  “There’s no such thing as coincidence. Just one big, everlasting loop of destiny.” Amiel grinned, pulling a dazed Joyce along with her, back into the car.

  “Take us to Jolleyways, please,” Amiel ordered the cabbie. Joyce groaned.

  “Let’s eat somewhere else, pretty please? I’m sick to death of that place.”

  “Good, because we’re quitting.” Amiel grinned devilishly.

  “Say what? Don’t go talkin’ crazy on me, girl. Unlike you, I need a job.”

  “And you’ve got one. Just not with Jolleyways.” Amiel sat back with her devil-may-care grin in full flare for the rest of the trip, while Joyce bounced her leg nervously. When they pulled up at the diner, Amiel pulled a reluctant Joyce along with her into the building. Stint was at the register, again pocketing a large sum of cash from the drawer.

  “Stint!” she shouted, making the fat man jerk in shock. Amiel immediately walked over to the anti-Hybrid sign and ripped it off the window.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing!” Stint shouted. The day crew, including Cookie and even a surprising shift change of Sunshine, peeked through the doors of the kitchen.

  “You’re a disgusting pig of a man! What on earth gives you the idea that you are important and big enough to demean an entire race of people, I have no idea. But it makes me sick! I can’t stand working for your filth another day. I quit!” All the patrons and employees gasped in shock when Amiel tore the sign right down the middle with a long, precise tear. Stint roared in outrage, his meaty fingers fumbling with the latch on the trap door in the counter. Amiel wasn’t done.