Chapter Five
Zombies
I supposed being angry with me was better than mulling over what had just happened, so I let Emily march ahead of me for the first two blocks of our escape. The silent treatment had its advantages as well, because I needed to be positive no one had followed us this time.
Probably the hotel clerk had given us away the last time, because it would have been unusual for a teenage girl and a rakish twenty-two-year-old to be checking in to that particular establishment at that particular hour. The corner of my mouth lifted at the description in my head and Emily gave me her best evil-eye glare when she spotted it.
I cleared my throat. “The sun’s coming up, so traffic will pick up soon. We should probably jog from here. It’s not more than a few blocks, are you up for it?”
Her mouth pressed together, holding in a retort I thought, and she nodded.
We kept an easy pace, and I got the feeling the task made Emily feel better. At the very least, she wouldn’t be missing her coat. It was actually more like six blocks to the residential area, and another four to the empty houses. I slowed to walk the last block, casually taking a blacktop drive to the back yard of one of the houses, in the unlikely case that someone was around to see us. From there, we cut through two more yards for a house that I was confident could keep us safe for at least a few hours’ rest.
I slid a hand over the trim of the door, then turned a few rocks in the landscaping beside the back step before I found a key.
“Is this your house?” Emily whispered from behind me. “Because that would be a really dumb place to hide.”
I nearly laughed. “No. We’re just using it for a bit. No one lives here.” I slid the key into the lock. “It’s for sale, but no one’s buying.” I glanced back at her. “We don’t have to worry about the real estate agent dropping by. They probably wish the whole lot would burn.”
She only hesitated a moment before she walked in. To a dark house. With a stranger. I sighed again, and then tossed the key onto the counter before locking the door behind us.
This particular house was not entirely empty. Short, orange patterned curtains hung above the kitchen windows, and the previous owner had left a few items they hadn’t considered worth packing when they moved. A yellowed clock over the stove proclaimed home was where the hearth was, its hour hand permanently stuck on two, minute hand dangling loosely toward six. A stack of newspapers rested on a corner shelf, a half-empty bottle of dish detergent by the sink.
Emily stood in the center of the room, somehow appropriate with her baggy gray shirt and loose, tangled hair. Her jeans bore the scuffs and dirt of old brick and roof tar, and she was pale, and tired, and sad.
And I was staring at her.
I jerked back to life. “There’s no power, and you should stay away from the front windows, but we’re good here.” I gestured toward the hall. “I’ll check the basement for supplies, you can find a place to sleep, the restroom.”
She nodded.
We stood there for a moment, as I couldn’t seem to find the will to leave. When it finally became awkward, Emily turned to go.
“If you need me,” I said to her back, “yell.”
She’d paused when I started speaking, and she only nodded in acknowledgement, but her shoulders lifted the slightest bit as she carried herself from the room.
The basement was damp, dark, and littered with empty food jars and butter tubs. I was able to find two jugs of distilled water, though only one was sealed, and an old moving blanket on the shelves near the water heater. I slid the flashlight I’d taken from the office building into the back pocket of my jeans and took the steps two at a time, water in one hand, blanket in the other.
I hadn’t realized how fast I was moving until I saw Emily through a door in the hall and had to take three backward steps to see her again.
She was standing in front of a mirrored vanity in the center of a small washroom, pulling her hair back with a tie she’d apparently found in one of the drawers, all of which now stood open from her rummaging. The sun was coming in through a high window to silhouette the line of her neck, her bare arms. I wasn’t certain if the sight was a shock because her baggy clothes had been so misleading, or if I’d just not had a free moment to fully appreciate her, but I was suddenly transfixed as she secured the band, and then dropped her hands, ponytail falling into place, and looked at me.
I swallowed. Mentally shook myself. Held up the hand with the water jugs.
I explained she should drink from the sealed container and wash with the other, but I had the feeling she was used to making do with what she could find. She hadn’t apparently had any issue with ransacking the cabinets.
I held up the blanket and pointed down the hall. “I’ll find you a place to rest.”
She nodded, but she was concentrating mostly on opening the drinking water.
The last two rooms down the hall were empty, so I chose the one with carpet, and windows facing away from the light. In the unlikely event we’d be found, we should be able make it across the hall to the alternate escape route. The carpet was pile and would be more comfortable than the hardwood in the opposite room. Warmer, too. Emily must be freezing without a coat. And I’d have to do something for food. This place was pretty miserable as far as shelters went.
“I don’t really care,” Emily said from behind me.
“What?”
“That stain you’re staring at, I don’t really care what it is.” She took the blanket as she walked past me. “As long as I can sit down, it can stay there and be as nasty as it wants.”
“I was thinking about food,” I said. “I’ll need to get you something to eat.”
She glanced out the window, and then back at me to shrug. “I’m fine for a while.”
With a long breath, she slid her back down the wall beside the window to sit and unfolded the blanket. I walked to the casement and twisted the vinyl blinds shut. They were a poor fit, probably a temporary solution by the realtor.
When I turned, Emily was holding one end of the blanket out for me.
I didn’t move quickly enough. She said, “It’s cold.”
I nodded. “I’ll find you a coat as well.” I stepped around her to sit on her other side, leaving a careful eight inches between us.
Overnight, the temperatures had dipped. We’d be more comfortable traveling during the day, but we’d also be more apt to be spotted. I’d have to get her to a safe house. And since Morgan knew who she was, I couldn’t get her there soon enough.
“Aern?”
Emily’s voice, so close and speaking my name, sent a very peculiar feeling through me.
I went completely still and then, quite unintentionally, moved toward her when I turned my head to answer. “Yes?”
It was the closest I’d been to her when she wasn’t trying to kill me.
“How did you know about this place? About how to find your way in the office building?”
And it was answer time. I resisted the urge to cringe. “I’d been watching Morgan’s men. Misleading them.”
She stared at me. I was explaining poorly, expecting her to make terrible leaps in my logic. I tried again. “Some of Morgan’s men have been working out of the area near the warehouse. I’ve been trying to keep an eye on them, and trying to keep them away from Brianna.”
I could see a protest form immediately on Emily’s lips and held up a hand. “Bri is safe. I promise. They have no way of finding her. But if they see me on the run, they’re going to assume I’m working alone, and that I have her.”
Emily straightened to face me, her shoulder braced against the wall. “You don’t have her?”
“I can’t tell you where she is, Emily. It’s the only thing keeping her safe. If they find you—”
She cut me off. “You think I would tell them where she is?”
“I think you would rather die first.” I purposefully lowered the tone of my own voice to keep her anger in check. “But they woul
dn’t need to ask. You could do nothing but tell them.”
Emily didn’t ask why. Instead, she said, “Those men, the two who were chasing us.”
I nodded.
“Those were Morgan’s men?”
“Yes.” I shook my head. “No. They weren’t…” I sighed. “Emily, I have to tell you something you’re probably not going to believe.”
The corner of her mouth pulled down in a grimace. “Go for it.”
“Those men weren’t like Morgan. The man in the car and the man in the hotel were only commonbloods.”
Emily looked a little sick. I hoped it was only the thought of their smashed bodies.
“They were merely men in the wrong place at the wrong time. And Morgan used them. Like throwaways.”
“How… what do you mean?”
“They were under his control. It’s like a trance, and they have to do what he wants.”
She didn’t even flinch. “They drove into a brick wall and climbed a building.”
“Anything,” I repeated. “Whatever he wants them to do.”
“He didn’t want them to die,” she said numbly.
“No, their goal was to get to us. Death was an unfortunate accident.”
She shifted slightly, reflecting on what I’d said. “Like a trance?”
“We call it sway.”
“And he can do it to anyone?”
I cautiously formed my answer. “All commonbloods can be swayed.”
Her eyes shifted to mine again, and then went slightly unfocused. She was silent for several minutes.
She said, “So they’re like zombies. Brainless zombies coming to kill us.”
Her description had me taken aback for moment, but I finally answered, leaving out that at the moment they only wanted to kill her, not me. “No. Definitely not brainless. They’re just under sway, under a direction they can’t stop heading toward until they’ve completed it. Their brains still function otherwise, they can use everything they already know to reach his goal.”
“Smart zombies,” she said.
I smiled wryly, conceded.
“And this Morgan, he can turn anyone with his sway, make them do what he wants.” She bit her lip. “An endless supply of smart zombies.”
The smile fell from my face.
“Well, I suppose it’s good to know what we’re up against,” she said.
I stared at her.
She nodded. “Yeah, well, my sister always makes me find the positive in any situation.”
She moved back against the wall and leaned her head and shoulder against me.
“And you called her Bri,” she murmured.
Chapter Six
Prophecy
For the first five minutes, I couldn’t believe she was lying against me. And then I recalled the ache in my injured shoulder. Where she lay. I was fairly certain she’d fallen right to sleep, but I still didn’t move for another half hour.
When I finally shifted, my arm gave a scream of relief and my shoulder a cry of pain. Emily mumbled something unintelligible and slid lower until her head rested on my leg and her shoulder against the floor. I attempted to adjust the blanket to better cover her, but she had it tucked up under her chin in a tight fist.
And then my arm just hovered there, over her. She was finally still. And cold. And had lost her sister.
Everything about her begged to be touched. And yet, even with her head against my leg, I hesitated. It seemed important somehow. My hand ached to wrap around her. I settled for an elbow, placing the length of my arm over hers to keep her warm, and she squeezed her arms tighter into her chest, and then snuggled closer.
It was becoming harder not to fall asleep. After so many hours, my breath began to match the slow, drawn-out rhythm of hers. Our body heat began to level out between the cover and carpet, and even the ache of my shoulder became a dull background noise to the dust motes that danced in the tiny rays of dim light filtering through the blinds. My eyelids were getting heavy, but I knew I couldn’t sleep. Not even here.
There was no way to be certain Morgan couldn’t find us. No guarantee that at any moment a dark figure wouldn’t pass in front of our window on its way to the door, leaving no more than a brief shadow in its wake… a brief shadow over the dust motes floating among the rays of afternoon light.
I cursed, suddenly roused from my stupor.
Emily jerked awake. I held her still for a moment, my hand hard on her shoulder. I didn’t hear the door.
I slid carefully from beneath her, and then tight against the wall to see out the window. A tall, dark-skinned man in a business suit was crossing the lawn. He peered into the windows of the house next door, and then crossed the street to check there.
I watched him until he was three houses down. Emily moved silently beside me, her body flat against the wall in waiting.
“He’s looking for us,” I whispered, “but it seems pretty random. He’s undoubtedly swept the entire area.”
Emily leaned in front of me to peek out the space between the blind and the frame.
Her face was inches from mine when she whispered hopefully, “He left his car.”
I shook my head. “Right now, they don’t know we’re here. If we take the car, we’d be giving them a lead.”
She nodded, and the little sigh of breath she let go hit the skin of my neck.
I had to touch her again. My hand found her waist. “We need to let him get out of here, report back that he didn’t find any sign of us. And then we’ll go.”
“To Brianna?” she asked.
“To a safe house. Somewhere Morgan can’t find you and the others can protect you.” And I would have to leave her.
“Is that where Bri is?” she said. “I know you can’t tell me, but I mean, is that the kind of place she’s in?”
Against all reason, my head gave a small nod.
“Then why can’t we go there?” She leaned closer, her whispers taking on an edge of desperation. “If she’s safe there, then we’d be safe there.”
“No. I won’t risk it. Morgan is searching for us as we speak.”
“He’s searching for her, too,” she argued. “And if all he plans to do with me is use me against Brianna, then the best place for us to be is together. If he gets to her, then at least I’ll be with her.”
“I can’t take you to her.”
“But—”
I cut her off. “I will keep her from Morgan. I won’t risk him getting to her. There are things you don’t know, and you’re just going to have to trust me until I sort things out.”
She opened her mouth to protest and then suddenly stopped. I couldn’t tell whether she’d held back her retort, or simply realized she was nearly pressed up against me as we argued in undertones. She stepped back and leaned once more on the wall, staring across the room rapt in thought.
We were both silent as the man reappeared on the street and walked toward his car. The muffled thump of a car door, and then the engine turning over, and he was driving away. And I was alone with Emily again, with seventy miles of road between us and the safe house I wanted her in.
When dusk settled, I returned the blanket and now empty water jugs to the basement, and restored the key to its place beneath a landscaping rock. We walked through several backyards until we were forced to go street side. The first occupied house we came to had a boarded-up front window and a rust-orange clunker in the driveway that didn’t look as if it was likely to start.
We kept on a few more blocks, though I didn’t want to go too far, because every home we passed was a gamble of being spotted. Remembered. When we finally came to a nicer block house with a promising sedan in the drive, I pressed Emily to hide by the garage.
“If Morgan’s men come here, they’ll be more likely to ask whether the two of us were seen.”
She went along with the plan, but I didn’t think she trusted it.
I knocked on the door, a deep evergreen with white trim, and waited. A gold-plated mailbox hung lo
ose on the red brick, its hinged door stuck partially open. Faded lava rock filled the otherwise empty flower beds. I could see the scuffed white toe of one of Emily’s sneakers peeking out from the corner of the house. Maybe she was scared. Or planned on listening…
“Yeah?” the old man croaked when he opened the door. He wore a robe over a stained white tank top and belted slacks.
I stared into his smoky gray eyes. “Ask me to come in,” I urged in a tone low enough not to carry.
He stared blankly for a moment, and then stepped back. “Come in, young man. Come in.”
Fifteen minutes later, Emily and I were driving a 1992 Pontiac down Emerson toward the freeway.
She spoke around a mouthful of ham sandwich. “You didn’t kill him or something, did you?”
I laughed.
She swallowed her bite. “I’m serious.”
“You decided to eat his food before you asked?”
She took a long swig of water. “No. I just didn’t think of it until then.”
“I’ve never killed anyone, for a Pontiac or no.”
“Good,” she said. “He isn’t hurt?”
I glanced at her. She meant it. “He isn’t hurt, I swear it.”
And, once again, she didn’t ask what he was.
The old man didn’t have much, but at least I’d been able to get us a car with half a tank of gas and something to eat. I’d used my sway to convince him he’d not seen us, but if Morgan did the asking himself, it wouldn’t stick.
“Aern?” Emily put down the empty napkin that had held her sandwich.
“Yes?”
“What about the others? The ones you said would protect me.”
“I don’t want to tell you that,” I said.
“Because it isn’t safe for me to know? Because he can get information from me?”
I thought, Because I’m not sure myself. I said, “It’s better this way. I wouldn’t keep it from you if I didn’t have good reason.”
“Okay,” she murmured. She was thoughtful for a moment. “And you have good reason to trust them with me?”
She was asking all the wrong questions. I pursed my lips. “They will keep Brianna from Morgan at all costs, Emily.”
Descendants Series Page 4
