by Patti Larsen
I'm sobbing by the time we reach the SUV, unable to get the girl's face out of my head, her slow-motion transformation. I stagger, fall against the side of the truck even as Duet spins me to face her, human hand striking me across the cheek.
“It's not your fault,” she says, coherent, whole while I'm the broken one now. “There's nothing you could have done.” Duet looks back behind me. “Trio, we have to go.”
I turn, see the pack approaching the bridge, coming toward us. Slowly, shuffling. I stare, heart in my throat as the first one finally steps out onto the span. The pack follows, as though they now understand the water can’t harm them on the bridge. The cars distract them, but they won't for long.
We have to get out of here.
Duet loads me into the SUV, straps me down before climbing in herself, Giant and her friends settling into the back in tense silence. I sag backward into my seat, the slow trickle of my tears a counterpoint to Duet's singing along to the music as she weaves her way through the backed up cars. I have to look away as she casually drives over Shambles, running those who stand in our way with near delight on her face, the squishing, thudding, wet sounds of bodies crushed under our wheels enough to stir my stomach even through my grief.
I keep my head down for a long time, until our path straightens out, until the truck picks up speed. I finally glance up, see the stretch of open highway ahead of us, glancing in the side mirror though I really don't want to look back, and watch the line of packed cars fall behind us.
A hand settles on my shoulder, a little cheek presses to mine. “It's good,” Giant says. “They died for real.”
She sits back again, her logic helping me to finally quiet the tears I was sure would never end.
***
Chapter Nine
The pavement on the other side of town is in worse condition, forcing us to slow our progress. By the time I pull myself together enough to take real notice, Duet is scowling in fury, no longer singing along to the country music she's learned to love. The kids stay quiet, huddled in back as though aware she's dangerous from the mood she's in. I clutch at the door as we roll over a substantial heave, the sound of scraping metal on pavement enough to make me grind my teeth.
Duet pats the dashboard gently, soothing the truck as it rumbles and shudders. “Need better ground,” she growls.
“Try the shoulder.” I point at the side of the road, relatively clear if choked with weeds. She grunts and does so, though it's only marginally less bumpy.
We stop twice to get out and stretch, the kids wicking away into the brush to do their business while I stay close to the SUV and hope there aren't more like them out here. Or worse.
When night falls, I leave the truck with a groan, feeling as though someone put me inside a bag with a handful of rocks and shook me. I watch the kids dig into their food with a smile, almost speaking up as they glut themselves on more beans and canned meat, finishing off with a small serving of fruit each. But they've earned it. And the food is theirs to do with as they choose.
Giant belches into the night, giggling as Rope mimics her, the tall, thin girl finally not so nervous. Her tremor is even gone, a smile easy on her face. Gps, blue eyes squinting as his attempt to burp fails. That brings out more peals of laughter from Giant who pokes him in the ribs before hugging herself.
I sip from my own can, grateful for the vegetable soup. Even the sight of the kids eating their slabs of pressed meat was enough to turn my stomach and make me wait until they were through, the idea of eating flesh still troubling me greatly. I can only think of the wide, intelligent eyes of the buck Beckett killed.
Twice.
“Giant.” She looks up, smiling, looking the most like a normal child than she has all along. Relaxed even. “Who raised you?”
She frowns at first, as if the idea of being raised by anyone is foreign. “Dunno,” she says finally.
“Did someone teach you?” It's not really important, I suppose, but I want to know. “Take care of you?”
Giant still looks confused until Gps whispers something to her. That makes a huge smile break out on her face. “Chevy,” she says with a grin. It fades almost immediately. “Bye, Chevy.”
I assumed the person was dead, but she's confirmed it. “I'm sorry, Giant,” I say. “Who was Chevy?”
She shrugs, hugs her drawn-up knees. “My brother,” she says. “Ordered all of us.”
Ordered sounds like “urd'd” and I can only imagine he ordered them around. Their version of being cared for. But her brother?
“Like Duet's my sister?” I point at her. “Chevy was your brother?”
Giant shakes her head. “All us brother and sister,” she says. “Mother and father.” Came out “mudder” and “fadder”. A slow horror grows inside me as I understand. When they aged, out here, without guidance, their hormones in control, the natural happened. Enough children survived, it seemed, to keep the group intact. Perhaps the fact they hid out here, in the open, kept them safer from the Sick than the rest and allowed more children to be born.
How absolutely terrible. I shudder, thinking of an early teen girl, pregnant, delivering a baby, not knowing what to do or how to care for it. It’s a wonder any of them survived.
And yet they did. As one big family. I find myself nodding, accepting what she's saying. They had enough empathy left to care for each other, I suppose. Created their own families. “How old was Chevy?”
She sighs. “Old guy.” She pulls at her hair. “All white.” Pokes her cheeks. “Scrunched.”
Wrinkles and white hair. A Waste once a child made ancient by the Sick? We'd encountered such people before, one of whom was my friend Vander's brother. Though the others we met weren't nearly as kind or as pure of motive as Gault. Jeremiah and his pack of Shamble-loving Wastes tried to trap and eat the crew of the train.
“What happened to him?” Giant snuggles back with Gps on one side and Rope on the other when I ask, shaking her head, arms crossing over her chest.
“Tried to get the food,” she says. “For us. Left me to order the rest.”
I can only imagine the weak and desperate Chevy, most likely with some kind of speech impediment if the kid’s use of language is any indication, surrounded by his wild adopted family, knowing there was food nearby but unable to help the ones he'd grown up to protect. And to go alone into the arms of the Shambles, leaving Giant behind to lead the rest… hopelessness takes me for a moment.
Until I see the determination shining in Giant's eyes. “He done good,” she says. “Got us food. But he couldn't stay.”
So he succeeded. But died in the aftermath. Leaving Giant to give the orders. Which meant they were the last generation. No more babies. At least, there hadn’t been any older kids in the bunch we’d left behind.
The end of their little family.
Giant's clearly done talking. She turns from me, snuggling down with her head on Gps's hip. The others fall quiet when she does, following her lead. The three of them curl up on the ground, the bed they’re accustomed to, and begin to snore softly, happy smiles on their sleeping faces.
“Slow going.” Duet dumps her can to the side with a hearty belch as if she's heard nothing of what Giant said and for a moment I'm angry with her. Heartless, this sister of mine. Until her human eye blinks slowly, head bobbing as she takes my hand, squeezes gently. Yes, she heard every word. Perhaps it's simply that Duet has no way to process sadness?
My hurt softens as she jerks her head to the side, eyes over my shoulder. “We're close.” She points then at a sign I hadn't noticed, the light from the open car door shining just enough to illuminate the reflective surface.
Pittsburgh. I push Giant's story from my heart as I climb to my feet and go to the glove compartment for the precious map. A quick look at the distance makes me smile. We didn't get far today, but we're much closer. Only four hundred miles left of this journey. And despite the fact I know it might as well be thousands at the speed we're going, progress is progress.<
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Duet is humming when I rejoin her. She's learning to sing for real and when she breaks out into soft melody, I find myself smiling at her rich, deep voice.
I know we should probably get back into the truck to sleep, but the fresh air calls me and I'm so tired from being tossed around all day I close my eyes for a moment.
Only a moment.
There's light, but it's not sunlight or moonlight or the glow from Duet. Cold, white, washing over me. Something howls and I'm on my feet, the calm taking over before I'm even awake as the pack of Brights and Howls swarm over us.
I've never felt so powerful as I lash out with feet and fists, ripping, tearing, blood pooling before and below me, grim and silent death my partner both inside my heart and beside me where my sister stands. Her metal parts burn with green fire, outshining the ghostly glow of the Brights, twisting the Howl's features into grotesque masks of horror.
Giant and her friends run and I have no way to stop them, forced to watch as they dive for the cover of the weeds. But these aren't the stacked cars they are familiar with, not the tight maze-like spaces they are accustomed to using for cover. Vegetation bends, breaks, falls aside as Giant and the others bolt for the false safety of organic cover.
And right into the arms of our enemies.
I hear screaming, know it's from my throat as the calm absorbs my rage. I feel like my body is swelling, growing taller, bigger, a monster among our attackers. Rope falls, one arm torn free by a ravening Howl, stringy hair falling over her face as she collapses, blood flooding from the gaping wound.
Duet's humming grows in volume as she fights, my roaring fury sending Howls back to shake their heads in fear and confusion, sharp teeth gnashing, furry bodies quivering as they struggle to understand we're no simple meal to devour after all.
Gps dies next, lunging for me, whole body in mid-air as he is grabbed by the legs, slammed down into the pavement, blood bursting forth from his shattered jaw, eyes glazing over while the Howl who caught him drags him back for a feast.
They fall fast, our attackers, die in vast numbers while Duet and I move through them as though we are the monsters. But they are many and we are only two.
And then we are three as Giant rushes forward to join us, to fight, her bravery on her little face, finding her courage to stand with us at last.
To be snuffed out by a Howl, his teeth clamping over her throat, tearing the flesh free, her blood pouring outward like a black river in the moonlight.
Time stops. There is no battle, no death, no anger or calm. There. Is. Nothing.
And then, something.
The tingle returns, more powerful than I've ever felt it. While Giant slowly topples forward, her little body limp in death, I reach out to our attackers with the familiar sensation, to all of them at once, detached but with purpose, and touch each and every one of them in the center of their being.
They die as one, melting, collapsing into bubbling heaps of putrid waste, gurgling as they fall, a mass extinction within moments. I can't bring myself to feel anything, not yet, not while Duet sobs beside me, lifting the bodies of our little friends, pulling them free of the remains of our attackers. So she's grown attached to them after all, has a heart inside the metal shell.
Inside this new level of detachment, I find her emotional state rather interesting.
Giant's face is the trigger, my final release. The calm leaves me, grief rushing forward to engulf me as Duet lifts her face to the moon and screams her rage.
***
Chapter Ten
I stand over the graves of our three friends, dug as best Duet and I were able, as deep as we could though I still fear scavengers might find them. We've done what we can, shed mutual tears. Duet seems more broken up than I expected and I have to lead her back to the truck and the driver's seat.
“Not random.” Duet stares out the windshield at the rising sun.
I look at her, not comprehending what she's said. “What?”
I didn't know she was holding something in her hand until she throws it at me. The object lands in my lap.
I know it, recognize it immediately. I've seen a weapon like this one before. “A Crawler taser.” Not meant to incapacitate, but with enough voltage to kill.
Duet's eyes meet mine. “Not random,” she repeats.
A planned attack, orchestrated by the Crawlers. “They know we're out here.” Panic rises in my chest, squeezes the air from my lungs. How do they? Are they following us even now? How did they find us? We have to go, get away. New York is so close, I can't be captured now.
Duet doesn't say anything, just fires up the engine and drives off.
I cling to the door and dash, trying to understand how they've located us, what their plan is. When I hear my sister clone grunt I look up, out the windshield.
Into the line of Crawlers waiting for us up ahead.
There's no time for fear, quite the opposite. Rage comes faster, shoving aside panic as if it never existed. Duet slams on the brakes, throws open her door. I'm right beside her, letting my fury loose, all thoughts gone, melted away behind the face of Giant, Gps and Rope, all of the dead ones I've known, cared about. There is no New York, no task, only the need to kill and kill and kill as many Crawlers as I can. All of them.
Every last one.
We slam into the line of metal clad soldiers like a pair of juggernauts, not even giving them time to raise their tasers. They die, torn to pieces, my sister more than a match for them by herself, let alone with me. Her Tek blood oozes from her and, for a moment, I feel fear puncture my battle calm only to understand she's not damaged, but is oozing her life's essence with purpose.
The Crawler vehicles dissolve as quickly as the Brights and Howls I infected, her Tek blood attacking the metal, eating away at it like acid. The Crawlers scream inside their metal shells, those she afflicts with her ichor, while the ones I fight seem faster than I expected but slower than they need to be.
A dozen Crawlers lie dead at our feet, their two armored trucks puddles on the ground. My sister pants over her handiwork, hand in her mouth to stop the flow of blood from her metal hand. It worries me, how much she's given up in the last few days, but we've had no choice really.
She rises, meets my eyes. “Not random,” she says.
I'm about to answer when something touches my mind
pulls me in
Trio
I know that touch, that voice, beloved
Trio help
Beckett. I reach for him, feel him hold me for a moment, a brief, shining moment
until he shows me what they face, the train, my friends
and he is gone.
***
Chapter Eleven
Duet's immediate reaction is expected. “It's a trap.”
While I have my own fears about that fact, I trust Beckett and know there is one way to convince my sister she won't be able to debate.
“We have to save Poppy.” I know it's unfair, that I'm manipulating Duet, but her next act is to run back to the SUV so I know I've reached her.
The moment the door closes beside me, I feel him again
inside me
around me
mind holding mine
flashes of images, of fire and Crawlers and dying kids
I jerk loose as we pass over a large bump. “That way,” I gasp, pointing toward the distance. He feels close, very close in fact.
Duet bounces over the edge into the grassed median, driving along the side of the road. It's smoother here, less torn up by frost and time. And then I'm
with him again, screaming, he's drawing back his bow
arrow flies, kills a Crawler
Duet struggles with the wheel as we rocket forward much faster than we should, but I don't berate the speed, instead wish I could encourage her to go faster.
another arrow flies, hits a target
Chime screams in Beckett's face
the dog barks over and over, standing over Poppy and the puppies
I choke for breath. Need to reach them, save them, have to protect them.
Absolutely have to protect Poppy.
At all costs.
I don’t stop to wonder why she’s so important to me. Things are moving too fast for thought. We top a rise, the SUV sliding down the side of a hill toward a line of trees, but there's fire up ahead and I see Crawlers, the train, they are close, I was right. Something towers in front of the train, holding them back, keeping them from escape. The SUV slams to a halt and Duet is out, running, running, and I'm with her.
The ground flies under me, the distance nothing to my churning legs, the calm descending yet again. This time I feel my heart shiver, shrink and know my time is coming, the time when I'll no longer be able to feel, swallowed by the calm.
For now it's a good thing. Feeling gets in my way. Except the anger, always the anger. It fuels me, pushes me forward, but the calm endures and I'm tearing a steel-plated helmet free, snapping the neck of a Crawler girl as she turns toward me with her taser held high. It drops from her hand as she sags to the ground, but I'm already past her, eyes lifting a moment to see Duet swing up and over the top of the train as though she's some freakish metal gorilla, her glowing green blood lighting up like a neon sign.
She can handle her part, I must deal with my targets. There are many, but it doesn't matter, not while they crumble under my touch, as strong as they are, as fast. Faster than any other opponents I've faced.
But still not fast enough.
The tingle builds inside me, the need to destroy them all at once, but I hold back, hesitate. Perhaps part of me still feels yet. I won't risk killing my friends and have no idea if what I do is selective past Duet and I.
