Revelation (Shadowmark Book 4)

by Alex Bratton

  “What did you expect? Some great war being fought outside these mountains for you to join?”

  Doyle frowned. “Maybe.”

  Mina bit back the next retort she wanted to hurl at him. He was foolish. The Glyphs had wiped out entire cities. The idea of war was laughable.

  They watched the election in silence for some time before Doyle sat up, suddenly alert. The voting was over. The piles looked equally high, and everyone in the vicinity waited impatiently as both sides supervised the count. They counted and recounted, and almost an hour passed before they declared a winner.

  Halston’s side let out a whoop of triumph. They would go to West Virginia. A few minutes of back patting and high fiving ensued, but the celebrating was cut short as a large group of men led by Thompson approached Halston’s group.

  Mina held her breath. Although she could not hear what was being said from this distance, both parties had squared off, their bodies tense. Thompson would not concede. Soon, the argument escalated to shouting. One of Halston’s men swung at one of Thompson’s. More joined the fight—whether to break it up or jump in, Mina couldn’t tell—but when she saw the flash of knives, she stood up and gasped. Doyle, already on his feet, grabbed her arm. Men poured out of the trees on all sides, seemingly eager to join the fight.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Doyle said.

  Before they could move, four men ran down the slope toward them, ready to join the fray. Mina recognized Jones. He brandished a knife, and seeing Doyle, made a beeline for him. Before Mina knew what had happened, Doyle had let go of her and pulled his own knife from his belt.

  Mina backed out of the way and not a moment too soon. Jones expertly slashed at Doyle, barely missing his chest. Doyle elbowed one of Jones’ companions who had tried to surprise him from behind. Then, all four men surrounded him, and Mina lost sight of everything as Doyle fought off all four at once.

  She wondered why Doyle didn’t use his gun. Then she remembered her own. She reached around under her jacket for it, but the holster had fallen off. Panicking, Mina looked around wildly, sliding back down toward their seat. By the time she found it, Doyle joined her, pulling her arm as shouts rang out all around. More people joined the fighting. Gunshots rang out above the din.

  Doyle nodded toward the gun in Mina’s hand. He took it, pulled it out of the holster, and racked the slide before handing it back to her. “Don’t be afraid to use it!”

  They slogged over the muddy earth up to the spot where the men had attacked Doyle. Jones lay on the ground with blood pooling beneath him, his eyes staring blankly into the trees above. Mina gaped as the rain mingled with the blood all over his body, but Doyle continued pulling her up the slope, not giving her a chance to ask the questions that swam in her mind.

  Gunfire sounded, and a rumble of thunder reverberated through the valley. After much slipping and sliding through the forest, they reached their cold, empty campsite. Here, the oncoming storm overpowered the sounds of the fighting below. Doyle pulled their carefully hidden packs from under the brush. He had blood on his jacket.

  “Are you hurt?” Mina asked. She reached out her hand, but he zipped it up quickly and shook his head.

  Mina fastened on her pack. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Good. Stay here. I’m going down again to look at what’s going on. Don’t leave this spot. Stay out of sight. If someone bothers you, don’t forget your gun.”

  “What could possibly be so important that you would risk getting shot?”

  But Doyle had left before she even finished her question, and she ended up shouting the rest at him as he made his way back down the slope.

  Shaking with her fury and the cold, Mina followed orders to stay put. An hour passed, and she hunkered under the tree, trying to stop shivering. The rain stopped, replaced by a cold fog. Occasional gunfire and shouts echoed from below.

  Someone headed up the slope through the mist. Mina jumped up and waved her hand, calling out, but when she saw Williams’ red hair, she shrank away into the trees. Williams had already spotted her, though. When he saw she was alone, he grinned a leering grin that reminded her of Reed.

  “What are you doing up here?”

  Mina tried to sound casual. “What’s going on down there?”

  “Oh, nothing to worry yourself about. Where’s your friend?” He glanced at the gun in her hand and paused. Williams didn’t have any weapons.

  Mina felt for the safety, switched it off. “He’s on his way back up.”

  “Maybe I’ll sit with you and wait on him, then.”

  Heart pounding with fear, Mina pointed her gun at him.

  With a chuckle, Williams raised his hands in mock surrender. “All I want to do is see Doyle. We can wait for him together.”

  “Don’t come any closer!” Mina was proud of herself for keeping her voice even, but her shaking hands refused to hold the gun level.

  “Put that away. We both know you won’t shoot me, and I won’t hurt you.” He walked forward again.

  Mina should have pulled the trigger, but something inside her resisted. Williams wasn’t running at her or shrinking back. He genuinely believed she wouldn’t shoot. Just do it! He was five feet away. Stop him! Three feet.

  He grabbed for the gun. Mina twisted, trying to get out of the way. With one lightning fast motion, he knocked the weapon out of her hand. She dove for it, but he jerked her upright by her arm. Mina summoned all her strength and punched him in the nose. Pain ran through her hand. Undeterred, Williams raised his hand to strike.

  Something knocked both of them to the ground. Mina landed hard on her elbow, rolling away from Williams. When she turned, Doyle had pinned Williams on the ground next to her. She scrambled out of the way. Doyle grabbed Williams by the throat, dragging him down the slope kicking.

  Williams somehow flipped up to kick Doyle in the face. Doyle released him, but instead of reeling back, he lunged at Williams, catching him off guard. They toppled down the steep slope, sliding through the wet underbrush and bouncing off a rock before Williams slammed into a large tree. Doyle slid a few more feet before recovering his balance and then ran up to where Williams lay groaning.

  Mina hurried down as Williams struggled to get to his feet. Doyle drew his gun.

  Williams’ eyes went wide. Doyle fixed him with a stare so cold Mina started to tremble. He put the gun to Williams’ forehead.

  “Wait! You’re in the same boat as I am, Doyle!” he spat. “We can help each other!”

  Doyle pulled the trigger, and a resounding crack filled the air. Williams’ body crumpled, blood spattering the nearby tree. Shocked, Mina halted in her tracks. Doyle began searching Williams’ pockets.

  Anger, disappointment, and fear all vied for attention as Mina ran at Doyle full of rage. He grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the body. Mina jerked out of reach, away from his touch.

  “You should have shot him as soon as you saw him!” Doyle said fiercely. “That’s why I gave you a gun in the first place!”

  “I couldn’t! He wasn’t armed.” The fact that he blamed her was infuriating. “You stopped him! The situation was under control!”

  “What if I hadn’t shown up? What would have happened to you then?” He was shouting now.

  “But you did show up. You had no reason to shoot him!”

  “Always waiting for me to save you! Have you learned nothing? It’s like you want to die.”

  “Maybe I just have a problem with killing people in cold blood!”

  “It wasn’t cold blood, Mina.” Doyle’s voice was quieter now. “He attacked you.”

  “We could have walked away,” Mina said as tears began to fall, “but now this is one more thing to add to the pile. One more regret.”

  “It’s not your regret. You didn’t pull the trigger.”

  Mina couldn’t tell if Doyle meant to relieve her of her guilt or add to it. She tried to calm herself by breathing deeply, but hot tears spilled down her cheeks, anyway. This time, she didn�
��t care if Doyle saw them.

  To clear her head, she asked, “What did he mean by you’re in the same boat as I am?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No?”

  Doyle shook his head. “He had a gun to his head. He would have said anything to keep me from shooting.”

  “And you killed him anyway!”

  “They are all going to die if the Glyphs find them! With the noise going on down there, it won’t be long.”

  “These men would already be out of the valley if they had known the invaders were close! But no, you insisted we wait while you decided what you wanted to do!”

  “Yes, and it didn’t help you out at all, either, Mina, did it? Looking for your brother? It’s easy to say we should have warned them about the Glyphs now that you know he isn’t here. But if we had warned them, and he left before you found him? What then?”

  “He would be alive, and that’s all I care about.” Mina’s voice broke. “We shouldn’t be fighting each other. We should be surviving and getting as far away from the Glyphs as possible before they hunt us down!”

  Doyle kicked Williams’ foot. “Tell that to these guys. If what you saw down below leaves you with any faith in humanity, then you are a fool. People will clamber over one another to kill until no one is left standing, all in the name of survival. The Glyphs don’t need to hunt us down. We’ll do the work for them.”

  “All the same, we shouldn’t just hand each other over to the Glyphs,” Mina said, looking at the body. She watched Doyle for some sign of remorse, of reason, and shuddered at his blank expression. Making up her mind, she said, “I’m leaving.”

  Doyle glared at her. “Fine.”

  Mina retrieved her backpack, furious that was all he had to say. She left the second rifle propped against a tree and her pistol on the ground. As if in answer to her rage, another rumble of thunder shook the mountain.

  “Mina.”

  She spun, shaking. Of course, he would try to stop her.

  Doyle picked up the pistol. “Take it. Please.”

  “So I can become like you?” she hissed.

  “Please.” Doyle’s taut face and cold eyes contrasted sharply with the warmth in his voice.

  Mina took the gun and put it in its usual place on her belt. Anything to put some distance between them. She could always toss it later.

  Mina looked at Doyle one last time. When he did not say anything else, she turned and hiked up to the ridge as quickly as she could.

  Chapter Eight

  That night, Mina sheltered under an overhang on the other side of the mountain, tired, hungry, and cold. She had wandered aimlessly, looking for the easiest way down. When the light had faded, she’d lit a fire from the dry brush she’d found beneath the overhang, but its feeble flame did little to warm her.

  She gave up and crawled into her tent only to fume some more. Any way she looked at it, the day did not add up. Up until that morning, Doyle had made careful, calculated decisions. He was not rash, and he was not vengeful—at least the Doyle she knew. He had claimed mercy led him to kill the burned man. Why had he shot a healthy man in cold blood? Why had Jones attacked him?

  Doyle had betrayed her, and Mina had betrayed herself. She had trusted her instincts, and they’d turned out to be wrong.

  Exhausted but too preoccupied to sleep, Mina lay awake for a long time watching the clouds clear away through the open flap of her tent. Stars shone crisply in the dark sky. She wished she could rewind to a week ago when they had been living in the cabin. For a few brief days, life had seemed simple.

  Just before dawn, a rumbling woke her from a troubled sleep. The fire had burned itself out, but the stars still shone brightly in the still night. No birds sang in the trees. Even the wind barely made a sound. The mountain rumbled again. Vibrations shook the overhang, causing small stones to fall down onto her tent. Mina cried softly as explosions rocked the other side of the mountain. Even though she could not see anything over the ridge, she imagined great plumes of fire and smoke rising up out of the valley.

  Calla rushed through the trees, sliding over wet pine needles as another explosion rocked the dark valley. Shame coursed through her. The rogues would escape her now. Where had they gone?

  Smoke drifted over, momentarily obscuring her view of the trees ahead. Still, she pressed on, feeling her way to the ridge where she had last sensed him. She would catch one of them, at least.

  A shadow stumbled toward her, choking in the smoky air. Since it wasn’t the one she sought, Calla let it pass.

  The sounds of gunfire and arguing below had ceased, replaced by screams and shouts of panic. Another explosion created a fireball down the slope from Calla, and she felt the heat from it as the ground shook beneath her.

  There. A body lay at the foot of a tree. She ran to it and turned it over. Williams. He had been shot in the head, execution-style. His pockets had been turned out, too, and his weapons were gone. Calla forced down the anger rising in her. She had needed him alive.

  Three sets of footprints dotted the area, along with the remains of a campfire. One set of prints definitely belonged to Williams. Calla studied the others. Another set matched Williams’ tread, but it was bigger and lighter. The other, smaller set belonged to a common hiking shoe. Eventually, the larger and the smaller parted ways, with the lesser tread heading up the mountain. Calla ignored those and followed the larger prints along the ridgeline, away from the explosions, until they disappeared an hour later on a rocky outcropping.

  Calla’s three rejoined her as she searched for the lost trail. She stopped to look at them. Only three, no one else. She clenched her fist as she anticipated their excuses but asked anyway.

  “Where’s Halston?”

  One shook his head. “Ran off during the fighting. Must’ve gotten wind of the Condarri.”

  “And the other?” She slid her hand along her knife handle.

  “We never found another.”

  “Thompson.”

  “The man I saw them voting on? How did you know?”

  “Dar Ceylin sent word just before the attacks.” Calla burned with envy that Doyle had found the rogue and not her.

  “You got false information. Thompson is just a regular guy.”

  She pulled her knife and rushed him, intending to kill them all for their insolence and incompetence.

  The hybrid did not flinch. “It is the Condarri who have failed,” he said, “not us.”

  Calla stopped with her knife inches from his neck. “It is treason to say so.”

  “Yes, but killing us will not change your orders, only make them harder to carry out.”

  “I can summon others.”

  “Will they be as loyal? We have returned to you,” he said spitefully, “despite the possibility of death. Too many are turning their backs on the Condarri. Whom will you trust?”

  “I trust no one. They will answer for their treasons.”

  “Yes, and we will help you with that,” he said. “Not many others will.”

  Calla did not want to be seen wavering, but his words rang true. They were loyal. She sheathed her knife and said, “Williams was already dead when I found him. Did you kill him?”

  “I did not.”

  The other two shook their heads.

  “We must find Halston.”

  “Yes,” the male said. “I don’t trust Dar Ceylin.”

  “He is worth more than all three of you. We need him.”

  Chapter Nine

  MINA WANDERED FOR SEVERAL DAYS after leaving Doyle. She half-heartedly thought of going back over the ridge to check the damage but couldn’t stomach what she might find there. Instead, she crossed to the next valley and headed south.

  Her next move was to try to find Atlanta or at least the area surrounding it. Lincoln might be long gone already, but after months of distractions, Mina would at least have a place to begin her search. Without a map or even a sense of her current location, the old idea of following the mountains south s
eemed smartest.

  She dared not light another fire. At least once a day, a massive black ship flew silently over the area, the only sign of its approach a looming shadow that blocked out the daylight. Mina racked her brain for a reason for these daily flyovers. The ship must be searching for survivors. The smaller ship she had seen the night she’d met Doyle would have been better able to maneuver in the tight valleys, but what did she know about alien logic? After three more weeks, the ship still combed the area, and the daily duck and cover left Mina weary and fearful.

  After the last cold snap, summer had finally settled in the mountains, and she enjoyed the warm days and pleasantly cool nights. The rain, no longer chilling, turned the valley’s forests into humid pockets of dense undergrowth.

  Traveling by herself was different from traveling with Doyle, and Mina quickly realized how much she had come to depend on him. She had to make all the decisions—where to sleep, how far to travel, where to rest, where to search for food. Mina also appreciated how well Doyle had avoided other people. Far more refugees were hiding in the mountains than she had guessed, and it seemed like she saw more every day. The first time she’d spotted a campfire, Mina had run in the opposite direction, thinking of the daily patrols. She no longer worried about warning others. Anyone could see the great black ship in the sky.

  After her first two hasty retreats, Mina had realized she was wasting a valuable resource—communication. At his towering height, her brother would attract attention with his very presence. Anyone who had seen him would likely remember.

  But still, she wasn’t too keen on running into another Reed or Williams, and so she carefully observed the other refugees before choosing to make contact. If they carried too many weapons or woefully outnumbered her, she retreated. So far, she had seen mostly ragtag, unarmed sorts who backtracked quickly. To encourage conversation, Mina always shared her food and helped them find more in exchange for information. So far, no one remembered Lincoln or had seen anyone fitting his description. No one had any outside news, either—nothing to tie her to the world beyond the mountains.