Wild One

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Wild One Page 6

by Donna Augustine


  I turned toward his voice. He was staring at my shirt.

  Maybe dowsing myself in the river hadn’t been a logical decision, but it had still been the best decision. My hair was dripping puddles onto it, making it worse.

  Callon walked to his bag and grabbed out a piece of hide. He tossed it so it landed by my hip. “Use that. They won’t take you sick, either.”

  He’d do just about anything to get rid of me, even spend his coin. I turned toward Tuesday and raised my brows. They are not good people. You must see this, right?

  She was too busy staring at Koz to notice my glares. I wasn’t sure why I bothered. She was sunk. She was going to try and sink her claws into Koz so deep that she’d put the beast that killed Baryn to shame.

  Callon walked over and stopped in front of me.

  Without warning, he leaned forward, and I jerked back, knocking my crutches over from where they were leaning against the log. His hands followed me until one was around my back and the other under my legs.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Carrying you.”

  Of course he’d be the one carrying me. I tensed even more, waiting for him to jerk me upward now that he had me in his clutches. He was slow in his movements, as if aware of how he might hurt my leg.

  Okay, maybe he wasn’t a total ass. He’d set my leg and he wasn’t unnecessarily rough. But that was it. He wasn’t getting anything else from me. Not even for smelling good.

  “Wait, my crutches!” I tried to squirm out of his arms to get down and grab them.

  “You aren’t going to need them,” he said as he continued walking.

  I was taking it back. He was a complete ass.

  “Tuesday!” I yelled, looking over his shoulder.

  She was already grabbing them and then waved one in each hand.

  “Don’t worry! I got them, Teddy! I got them!” she said, as she fell in behind us.

  Hess turned to Zink. “At least the dog wasn’t weird and could walk on its own.”

  Zink nudged Koz with his elbow. “Yeah, Koz. Couldn’t you just get another dog?”

  Koz didn’t respond. He was too busy smiling in Tuesday’s direction. If I wasn’t up close and personal with Callon, I would’ve groaned. We were not staying with these men, even if she figured out a miracle. Not going to happen. I refused to end up with Callon for a day more than necessary.

  8

  It happened. Tuesday was going to get her way. She wouldn’t have to conjure up a miracle, and I didn’t even see it coming. There’d been no sign of trouble on the horizon when we started out.

  The first hour on the road with them wasn’t too bad, even though I was pressed against the chest of the one man here who unsettled me the most. I hadn’t had this much constant physical contact in maybe my entire life.

  Within two minutes of this ordeal, it became clear that it was almost impossible to look anywhere but at him, at his lips, his jaw, his eyes, his hair. Unless, of course, I wanted to turn my head constantly and mess up my neck, one of the only properly functioning body parts I had left. So, I stared past him, focusing on the scenery, and pretended his head wasn’t. Right. There.

  Unfortunately, my nose was working well too. He had this crazy blend of cedar, orange, and cardamom that made me want to lick him to see if he tasted as good as he smelled. It wasn’t natural. He’d been traipsing around the forest. It went against all logic.

  Forget about the little zings of energy that shot through me every time he shifted me in his arms, like some weird sort of built-up friction between us.

  So I focused on the trees. Trees and trees and more trees. Trees everywhere. I didn’t know what I’d expected would lie outside the village, but something more than this. The grass beneath us had flattened out strangely in the last mile or so, like we were walking through a valley of trees. Every so often, I caught sight of a patch of concrete or a strange growth that rose twenty or so feet out of the ground and seemed too square to be natural. Then I’d spy a stone structure peeking out of the vines and realize it was all still here. The world the Bloody Death hadn’t been able to completely wipe out of existence, a ghost still haunting us. You only had to look hard.

  Once Tuesday and I were on our own, we’d find one of these overgrown buildings, clean off all the vegetation, and make a home, like I’d seen in pictures. We’d have little pots filled with flowers and a fire roaring in the winter. We’d hang fabric over the windows. The past would eventually fade away.

  I was eyeing up another hidden building when I caught sight of Koz walking closer.

  “You want me to take her for a while?” Koz asked, as he fell in beside us.

  My rigid frame relaxed. Koz was safe, easy. He wouldn’t churn out energy like a supernova and shoot off sparks.

  Callon stopped walking and turned toward Koz, leaning over and about to pass me off. Then he straightened, his arms tightening around me and his chest grumbled.

  “It’s okay. I’m good.” Callon turned and started walking again.

  What? Huh?

  “You sure?” Koz asked, looking the way I felt—stumped.

  “Yes,” Callon barked at him.

  My mouth gaped. If I hadn’t been stuck in his arms, and had two good legs, I would’ve stomped a foot.

  “Don’t you need a break?” I asked. I sure as hell did.

  “He’ll walk too slow,” he said, jaw tensed and not looking at me.

  What was he mad about? Koz trying to help him? Me? What had I done? I was the one who was supposed to be mad.

  He didn’t have to keep carrying me. I hadn’t wanted to be carried. I could’ve used my crutches and been fine.

  A little slower, but fine.

  I clamped my mouth shut, and neither of us talked for the next hour. I focused on a healed leg. I didn’t know what he was thinking, and I didn’t try to find out. He was obviously annoyed about something, but it was his problem.

  On the upside, every step we took away from Turrock took my anxiety down a smidge. It didn’t even matter where Tuesday and I ended up. Anywhere would be better than where we’d started, and if I had to be carried away from that place by him, then so be it. I’d deal.

  A group of crows flew overhead, cawing in agreement. Or that was what I thought they’d said. I wondered where they’d been. If they laughed, I swore I was going to throw rocks at them as soon as I got my legs back underneath me.

  “I swear, these are the same birds that were at the camp. I think they’re following us,” Hess said.

  I’d missed them at camp. Maybe they were finally respecting my space a little?

  “Hess, do you know how crazy that sounds?” Zink asked.

  Tuesday’s eyes went round, but she pressed her lips firmly together.

  “What did you do back in your village?” Koz asked Tuesday, looking for an excuse to sidle up next to her. “Did you have a job?”

  “Laundry. It wasn’t bad. Passed the time.”

  “What about you, Teddy?” Koz asked.

  He was asking me for one of two reasons. He felt like he should after he asked her, or he was trying to hide that he was crushing just as hard as Tuesday. If he was doing the former, it would’ve been nicer if he’d ignored me.

  “Laundry,” I blurted out. “It wasn’t bad, like she said.”

  Tuesday glanced over at me but seemed to be holding on to her streak of newfound silence.

  Koz said something else to Tuesday that I couldn’t hear, and I didn’t care. He’d moved his attention solely back to her, and the other two had stopped talking about the birds. Things were back on track.

  Callon, on the other hand, turned his head toward me. My position made it hard to ignore the sardonic expression plastered on his face.

  Okay, so he knew I was full of it. It didn’t matter. “What?” I asked, going with an offensive position.

  “We’re almost there,” Callon said, looking ahead again, as if he’d decided it wasn’t worth delving into my lie.

 
; We hadn’t gone much farther when the sound of water running could be heard underneath the birds chirping and the sound of fall leaves blowing off the trees. It wasn’t the gentle trickle of a stream but a massive tide. Did that mean we were going to the Gathering? It had to be. I’d heard stories of the place. People from our village, mostly the men, would come here and trade for other goods.

  We turned, and the gap in the trees widened. I could see it. It was exactly as I’d imagined: an island in the center of a river that ran wide and rough. A wooden bridge spanned the water. I’d heard that it was pulled in every night to keep the beasts out.

  The place was cluttered with colorful tents and small wooden buildings. There were carts and the smell of food, but there weren’t too many people, luckily.

  They had a guard on duty, a crossbow and arrows slung across his back. He nodded in our direction as we crossed the wooden bridge, as if he recognized most of our group.

  Callon stopped as we got off the bridge. “Koz, I’m bringing Teddy to Hera. Go find new pants for her while I do.”

  Koz nearly tripped in his rush to turn around. “Me? How do I know what pants to buy? I’ve never bought stuff for a girl.”

  Every part of me groaned, and I didn’t need to look over at Tuesday to know she was smiling. With those two sentences, Koz had declared himself single.

  “I don’t need pants. I need a needle and thread.” Tuesday didn’t need alone time with Koz and his I want to help attitude. In the end, Koz would listen to Callon and then they’d dump us. I was quite happy about that, but the more time Tuesday had to stare at Koz, the worse it would be for her.

  “I ripped them. I’ll replace them.”

  He didn’t even look at me when he spoke half the time. Just barked what was going to happen.

  “I don’t need—”

  “I. Don’t. Care. Throw them in the river, but you’re getting them.”

  Throw them in the river? What kind of crazy person would do that with brand-new pants? Was he so delusional that he didn’t realize how valuable new clothes were? Even if I was annoyed, I’d never do that. He was bossy and wasteful.

  “If you get them, how can I possibly—”

  “Tuesday!” Callon shouted over to where she’d already walked off with Koz.

  “Yes?” she asked, running back to his side a little too eagerly for my liking, as if he were in charge of her now too.

  We were going to have to talk. I’d thought she’d understood that anyone not “us” needed to be treated with supreme caution, with the exception of Koz. Even Koz should be deemed neutral at best. Callon was in charge, so it didn’t matter if Koz was single.

  “Pick yourself out some, too.”

  He hadn’t ripped hers. Why was he getting her a pair?

  “Why are you doing that?” I asked. It was a move designed to win her over, but why bother? We’d be parting soon, so what would be the point?

  “Because I can.”

  I huffed loud enough to make sure he heard it. I could’ve told him he didn’t have to buy her anything. Let her hang out with Koz and that was all she needed. She’d nearly danced her way over to him, and the pep in her step had nothing to do with clothing. Koz stood and waited, a more-than-willing partner.

  Zink was shaking his head as he watched the duo walk off. At least somebody understood. Zink turned, noticing my eyes on him. I shook my head and he nodded. I might not like Zink, but at least him I understood.

  I made sure to look at Callon now, narrowing my eyes. “You know she’s not one of your men.”

  “And yet she follows orders so well?” His eyebrows dropped and he squinted, as if it were all a huge mystery to him, too.

  I turned my head, hoping we’d get to the witch soon, or my neck was going to get a horrible crick. Even his face was too much to tolerate at the moment.

  I’d never seen so many faces at once. There had been one good thing about the village. I didn’t meet a lot of new people. I tried not to focus on any of them, hoping I wouldn’t pick up their details, the deaths that would come. Callon weaved in and out of tents, and every head turned to look our way, but most kept their distance, which kept the visions to a manageable dribble.

  Still, it was nearly impossible as people passed to not pick up something. A stabbing here and a strangulation there—it was a wonder there were any humans left.

  I kept my head down, not wanting to see the victims’ faces, but it was hard to avoid them. They all stared at me as if they’d never seen someone scarred before. Kind of ironic, considering the bloody deaths piling up.

  Who needed to look at the rainbow of tents, anyway? They were just fabric. I turned and studied Callon’s jaw instead, the thick stubble that had scratched my hand earlier when I’d brushed it by accident.

  Callon shifted, and I found myself a little closer to his shoulder and neck. “This happens everywhere I go. People can’t seem to help themselves around me,” he said, face as straight as an arrow. He kept looking forward, as if he were the target of all the attention.

  Handsome or not, he knew people avoided locking gazes with him. He looked like he’d kill you if the wind blew wrong. It was me they stared at. I choked back a snicker. Maybe he wasn’t a total jerk. There might’ve been a sliver of a decent guy in there, at least when he wasn’t telling people to get rid of me or acting like I was the biggest burden ever carried.

  By the time I looked around again, we were coming upon a bright yellow tent. If I were to live in a tent, that was the color I would’ve chosen. It made me think of a big ball of sunshine. It was back, spaced farther away than the rest of the tents and building. It was part of the community, but I wasn’t sure if the community was thrilled about that.

  Callon carried me inside, the flap making us known.

  “Hera,” Callon said.

  Hera turned from the young lad she’d been talking softly to, who had the same black hair and deep eyes she had. Her gaze took in my leg, then the bruises on my face.

  “What can I do for you, Callon?” she asked, as if it weren’t obvious.

  “Can you fix her?”

  Callon stepped closer, which meant I got closer too. I knew immediately that she had a few decades left, but not the boy. He’d be lying on that same pile of pillows she had in the corner, not very long from now, his skin unmarred by the luxury of a full life but ravaged by sickness. His life would seep out as she kneeled beside him crying the way only a mother could over a child, her entire body racked in the pain of it all.

  “If you’re paying.” She walked over to a table with candles, her red skirt swaying. She lit up a stick of weeds, the smoke billowing as she took it and walked around the tent.

  “I always pay. You don’t always fix.” Callon carried me farther into the tent.

  “What are you paying with?” She narrowed her eyes. “Newco money is nearly worthless since the takeover. I’m only accepting gas or gold now.”

  “Gold, like I always do. But this time, the healing better stick,” he said, turning with her as she walked around the tent.

  “That wasn’t my fault. You knew it was a possibility.” She pointed to a group of pillows piled up on the floor. “You putting her down or what?”

  Callon didn’t move. “How long will it take?”

  “Can’t say until I see how bad. Maybe immediately, and maybe not until tomorrow.” She stepped closer, waving her smelling weeds at us, making me cough.

  “Get that shit out of my face,” Callon said. “I want this done today.”

  She moved the stick but hesitated to move away, staring at me so intently that I wanted to bark at her too and ask what her problem was. I would’ve if the possibility of my leg being healed wasn’t dangling.

  “Then you best be putting her down and giving me my space,” the witch said.

  He walked over toward the pillows and kneeled, setting me down. He didn’t get back up right away, though. That was when I realized my arm was still around his neck, as if it had its own mi
nd and didn’t want to be left to the ministrations of this woman.

  I pulled it back quickly, not sure why I’d done that in the first place. I turned toward the witch, pretending it hadn’t happened.

  His eyes rested on me for anther second before he rose. “Why do I need to leave?”

  The witched huffed, as if it were obvious. “She’s a lass. I need her to strip, and you don’t need to be seeing that.”

  “I think I can handle seeing her without clothes.”

  Could “handle” it, like a chore to have to suffer through. I wasn’t naïve. No man, or one of normal tastes, at least, would want to see my scarred and disfigured form. I knew what I looked like now.

  Either way, it didn’t matter, as I wasn’t looking for a man’s attention. I didn’t want anyone, but he could’ve said he’d turn his back or something.

  Hera’s hands went to her hips. “But maybe she would like a little privacy?”

  “Leave me here.” My voice came out stronger than intended. I’d meant to act nonchalant, not like I was ready to throw down in a brawl. I just wanted him gone. If my scars were that distasteful, he didn’t need to see them.

  Callon slowly turned back toward me, eyes narrowed and standing still. What? Why did he look so surprised? Did he think I’d be happy he was willing to tough out having to see more of me? Did he expect me to be flattered he was going to stay in the room with me and bare my ugliness upon his eyes? I didn’t want him either, but being reminded I was disgusting wasn’t endearing.

  Chin up, steel in my shoulders, I stopped looking at him and put my attention solely on Hera, which was harder than you’d think with the way Callon sucked up all the air in a room. Honestly, he was near overbearing. I wasn’t sure why my arm had latched on to him. Probably a muscle spasm or something.

  “Shout if you need me.” His tone didn’t lend itself to thinking there’d be help on the other end if he heard it.

  She waited for the silence of his steps, and then some, before she knelt beside me. “I know who you are and I know you’ve got magic.”

 

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