She was an adult, but despite a life of hardship, she still had a youthful glow to her skin and fullness in her cheeks that suggested she was in her early twenties.
“I was a grunt in the army. Just finished boot camp when the world collapsed. You get a lot of shots when you enlist. They lined us up. I thought it was just another booster shot. Maybe some B vitamins or an antiviral since the avian flu was taking everyone out. The president declared martial law. We were transferred to what was left of the west coast. Somewhere in Texas, en route, was when the adverse changes took effect. Our driver said his head hurt. Maxwell, he’d always been a little on edge.”
Dahlia shuddered, throwing more wood on the fire. Sparks flitted into the air like fireflies. “What happened?”
Connor stood and paced the pen. “He screamed. Said ants crawled in his ears and were eating his brain. He stepped on the gas, and we hit the vehicle in front of us. Spun out. It seemed like it was spreading. Some of these guys were vets. They’d been on tour two, three times, and they just went crazy. The nanos seemed to enhance something inside them that made them insane. A lot of us were okay, but half or more weren’t. It was all out war. I just assumed it happened all over. We stopped getting orders. Someone took out the satellite systems, I never really knew. It was fast, spread by fluids. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if not for everything else happening around us, but it got bad quick.
“Those of us that still had our heads banded together, created a safe post in the mountains. It’s hard as hell to get to. We’ve been working ever since to find people to come with us, that can make the transition safely.”
“And that’s where we come in?” she asked.
“Some of you. The violent and insane would never make the transition safely. There’s too damned many of them out there right now, destroying everything and everyone they come into contact with. We have to be careful who we choose, and even then, it’s not a guarantee something won’t happen.”
Dahlia got to her feet. “You’re not convincing me this is the best way.”
Connor ran his hands through his hair, breathing a heavy sigh. “I told you the truth ‘cause I thought you could handle it. I doubt anyone else in your town would be willing to try, and I’d probably have to take them out if they went down the wrong way. So that’s it. You’ve got everything now. Ready to tell your people the truth?”
“Is that really everything?”
He nodded. “Basically, except for the rogues.”
She hugged herself, looking small and vulnerable. The urge to hold her was great, but she didn’t want or need his protection. He could tell. “What are the rogues?”
Might as well finish scaring the shit out of her. He thought she could handle it, but he was probably wrong. Damn. “The rogue Renegades. We’ve crossed paths before. They’ve been sweeping across the country, headed north a little more each time, looking for supplies. Doesn’t matter if you’ve got nanos or not, you need fuel to stay alive. They’ll be here, sooner or later. There’s enough of them that none of you will survive. Unless you’ve got some major firepower hidden away. You get all that? Take it back to your village if you want. I’ll be here waiting on an answer from you and anyone else you think of.”
“For what?”
Connor frowned and walked to the back of the cage, leaning against it. He propped one foot over the other and gave her a disparaging look. “Don’t play dumb, Dahlia. You’re no good at it.”
Chapter Five
Eddy and Allen caught Dahlia as she walked along the perimeter back to town.
“Hank wants to see you,” Eddy said, grabbing her elbow.
She jerked her arm loose and put her hand on the hilt of her knife. “I can walk on my own,” she snarled.
Eddy and Allen put up their hands, both mocking her with fake smiles. “Whoa, girl! You ain’t got to get so mad.”
She glared at them. In her experience, being the angrier one usually made people back off. She knew nothing would work long-term with Eddy. There was a lingering look he had that sent chills up her spine. “Like I give a fuck. I was heading to see Hank anyway.”
“Then you won’t mind if we tag along and make sure you get where you’re headed?”
Dahlia shrugged and walked a pace with them, distrusting her back to the two men. Not that she stood much chance against two if they decided to attack. Daylight was her only security at this point, and that wasn’t saying much. She quickened her step, wishing she could break into a run, but they were like dogs. A run would only fuel their excitement and turn her into prey.
She had to stay calm and out think her enemies. Problem was, she didn’t have many options open anymore. Connor’s offer, despite her fears, was tempting.
Hank sat on his porch with his boots propped on the railing when she walked up. She would have preferred having her father by her side as additional support, but she hadn’t been given a chance to deviate from the main path to go and get him. Plus, he was sick, and she didn’t need them to know just how weakened he’d become.
Hank picked his teeth with a hay straw, watching her mount the stairs. He sucked his teeth, looking at her. “Renegade didn’t try nothing, did he? How ‘bout you hand over that key.”
She shook her head, handed the key over, and leaned against the railing just shy of his boots. “He kept his hands to himself, if that’s what you’re asking. Not all women use their crotch to gain an advantage.”
Hank leaned forward and spit over the railing. He flicked the straw away. “It sure helps though,” he drawled with a laugh. Eddy and Allen chuckled behind her.
Their amusement grated on her nerves. A cool breeze ruffled her hair. She tucked the unruly curls behind her ears and wished she was anywhere but here.
“What did you find out?”
“I thought I had three days,” she said, stalling for time as her mind raced.
“I’m tired of waiting,” Hank said. “If he hasn’t talked by now, he’s got nothing to say.”
Dahlia cleared her throat. “There’s a rogue band of Renegades on the hunt. They’ve been moving across the country for years, moving steadily north. He says it’s only a matter of time before they find this place and take everything we’ve got.”
He waved his hand, dismissing her statement. “Not too convincing. That it?” Hank said, narrowing his eyes.
“He invited us to join him,” she said, measuring her words.
“And why would we want to do that?”
“To survive. Connor said—”
“Connor?” he interrupted. “You on a first name basis with him now, girl?”
She blew an errant curl out of her eyes. “I was just trying to make him comfortable enough to talk is all. You want to hear this or not?”
“Check your attitude. I’m still in charge around here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go on.”
“Anyway, he said there ain’t no babies being born anywhere, but if we want to convert, we could have children again.”
“Sounds like a ruse to me, Hank,” Eddy said from behind her. “It’s bullshit. There’s still calves. Maybe we need to round up all the women and get to work.”
The menace and intent in Eddy’s voice made her sick to her stomach. She’d made a mistake in saying anything about making babies. Undoubtedly, their next move would be raping the few dozen women in town. She sure as hell wasn’t going to let that happen again. She’d rather die.
Hank rubbed his chin. “I think so, too. Trying to get our guard down, dangling a carrot in front of us. I don’t think he’s any more than a scavenger trying to get what’s ours. Still, we’ll add a few extra men to guard the fences. The river’s getting too cold to cross now. That settles it. We’ll draw and quarter him tomorrow. Burn the body before he can infect anyone. I don’t think I need to add not to let this get out in town. People are skittish enough without adding to the fray. Y’all understand me?”
“We’re not putting it to a vote?” she a
sked, keeping her emotions in check before they could see them all over her face. Inside, she shook through her core, chilled and disturbed at a man’s death so callously planned.
“They made their wishes known days ago. You only delayed the inevitable. Anything else you want to add?” Hank asked, leaning forward and pinning her with his icy stare.
She shook her head and left, headed straight for her shanty. The door creaked as she opened it.
Her dad sat with his head propped on his folded arms at his work table. She’d never seen him take a nap sitting up like that. His breathing was so shallow, she could barely see his back move as he took a breath. “Dad?”
He was slow to rouse from his sleep. When he finally opened his eyes, she remembered to breathe herself.
“Hey baby girl. What’s going on? Did that man scare you again?” His voice sounded froggy.
Dahlia hugged him and pulled up a stool. “It’s worse than that. Hank is going to kill him tomorrow. We’ve got to stop him.” She quickly told him everything Connor had relayed.
“You sure you trust him?” he asked.
“I don’t think we’ve got much choice. If we let him die tomorrow, we’ll never find this place and get in. Then we’re stuck here until they decide to gang rape me or we’re both dead. Don’t you think we should try to go with him?”
Wallace nodded and heaved a sigh. He touched her cheek, and his eyes looked misty. “I thought I could protect you longer than this. We’re coming on a time when you’ll have to do for yourself or find someone who can take over my duties.”
“Stop that. You’re fine. It’s just this cold messing with you.”
He nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. “You need to let him go tonight. I’ll make sure no one follows you over there. Make a distraction. God willing, they’ll accept us for what we are and not force this transition into something else.”
***
Dahlia’s exhaled in visible puffs as she hid in the shadows behind shanty row. The crescent moon and stars lent poor light for her to see, but luckily she’d been waiting in the dark long enough that her eyes had adjusted to the dimness.
Slung over her back, she carried her short duffle bag stuffed with clothes, blankets, and tools. Her father’s bag was larger and held their food, a few pots, and the fire starter rolled up within layers of blankets to keep it all dry for the river crossing.
She waited until she heard his whistle before running to hide their gear at the river. The bags were heavy, slowing her down. By the time she reached her stash spot, she was sweating beneath her denim shirt and jacket, and her scalp felt hot under her black knit cap.
Dropping the bags behind a bush, she dug the wire cutters out and rushed along to the cage. Here she didn’t have to worry so much about making noise.
In the distance, she could hear shouting and screaming. She prayed her father knew what he was doing when he got everyone riled up. No time to worry about that now, she knew.
Reaching the cage, she rattled the chain links to wake Connor up. It was dark inside and she couldn’t see his face.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, startling her. She jumped.
“Shit! I thought you’d be asleep. I came to rescue you.” Dahlia began snipping the wires at the bottom corner of the cage. The clippers got stuck on the second row. Her hands were getting tired from wrestling with the tool. For some reason, she thought this would be easier.
Connor’s boots scraped on the concrete. “What’s going on?”
Metal pinged as she yanked the tool free and began again. “You’ve been sentenced to quartering tomorrow.” She looked at him in the darkness, but his face was in shadows. “They’re going to kill you.”
“So you thought you’d let me go. Is that the plan?”
“I was hoping…you said me and my dad could come with you.”
“And you’re prepared to go?” he asked quietly.
“Ready as we’ll ever be. I just got to cut this open and we’ll meet dad at the river.”
“I take it they took the key. Here, let me do that.” Connor reached down, grasped the edge of the cage where she’d been working and yanked the wall of wire up until he’d torn the entire section free of the support pole. The pinging noise was deafening.
She gaped as he stepped through the hole. She stood. “Are you telling me you could’ve gotten out this whole time?”
He gave a chuckle. “I thought I told you that.”
“I guess I just misunderstood. Fuck. You’re strong.”
“Yeah. Let’s go.”
Dahlia grabbed his hand and ran back to her stash spot by the river. Connor didn’t seem to have any trouble seeing in the dark, she noted, tripping over roots and rocks as he ran sure-footed.
“Now what?” he asked.
All the running around had exhausted her. A stitch formed in her side, and she stretched to get the kink out as she caught her breath. “Dad was supposed to be here by now.” She looked worriedly back to town and saw fire glowing in the distance.
“Something’s wrong,” he said before she could.
Ice froze her veins. “I’ve got to go find—”
“No. I’ll go.”
“No,” she gritted out. “He’s my dad.”
“I’ve got training, and I’m stronger. If he’s hurt, could you carry him out? You wait here. I’ll be back with your dad.”
“Do you promise?” she asked, hating the tremulous sound to her voice.
“Come hell or high water, we’ll both be here,” he said, crossing his heart.
She watched him go until the dark swallowed him. The commotion in town continued, faint, but still audible. Thoughts of what could have happened ate her alive with guilt and worry. She hugged her stomach, wanting to puke the horror out, but that wouldn’t help her mind.
An eternity crawled by. She checked their bags, making sure everything was tightly bound. Then she checked the frigid, slow moving waters. Another month and it would be frozen, she knew.
Dahlia kicked the dirt and sat down, couldn’t get comfortable, and got up again.
Footsteps approached. Dahlia ducked down until she recognized Connor’s big shoulders and flapping coat. He was carrying someone.
“Dad,” she hissed, rushing to them.
“We can’t stop long. Give me your knife!” Connor said, easing Wallace to the ground and kneeling beside him.
Dahlia’s heart palpated. She couldn’t breathe. “What’s wrong? What happened? Dad?”
“He’s unconscious. It’s for the best. They’ve crushed him. Broken his ribs. He’s got blood in his mouth and a laceration across his gut.”
She choked back tears, handing Connor her knife with shaking hands. She knelt beside her dad, touching his cool skin. “What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can,” Connor said grimly. He took her knife and sliced across his palm, quickly holding his bleeding hand against Wallace’s stomach.
When he pulled his hand away, the flesh was whole again. He wiped the blood off on his leg and handed the knife back to her.
“What did you just do?”
Connor slipped his arms beneath Wallace and stood with him in his arms. “I just infected him with the nanos.”
Chapter Six
“He didn’t want that!”
“You think he’d rather die and leave you alone? Come on. We have to cross now. I spread the fire to the main house in town. They’ll be fighting that long enough for us to make some headway. With any luck they won’t follow us,” Connor said. “You’ll have to take the bags across. I can’t carry him and those.”
Dahlia wasn’t sure she could either. The water was cold and still moving fast enough—she tried not to think about it as she followed him to the bank.
He kicked off his boots. “Put them in the bag. I suggest you do the same with yours and anything else you don’t want drenched.”
She nodded and stuffed their shoes inside. Connor hissed as he stepped into the wate
r carrying her father in his arms. “It’s cold as fuck. Stay close. Go slow. It doesn’t take much to sweep you away.”
Dahlia took a deep breath, girding her nerves, and went in. The water turned her toes and feet into painful blocks of ice with the first two steps. Two more steps and she thought she’d stepped into a hole. Shorter than Connor, the water quickly rose to her waist. She gasped, fighting the pain as she stepped carefully across.
“You okay?” Connor asked over his shoulder.
“Yeah,” she gritted out, trying to keep the bags from floating away. They were water resistant, but she could feel them begin to drag away from her.
Connor reached the bank on the opposite side.
Something slimy moved under her foot. She screamed and jumped, missed her landing and plunged into the water.
Her gasp at the shocking temperature filled her mouth and nose with water. Fighting for purchase and off balance, she couldn’t get her feet back under her. She got her head above the surface and gagged on water, coughing and sputtering.
“Dahlia!” Connor’s voice sounded muffled.
Exhaustion jellied her muscles. Dahlia lost her grip on the bag handles as panic turned her response time sluggish. She lunged for one bag and caught it, then watched as the other disappeared down the river before she could rally her energy and try again.
An arm snatched her from the brink, yanking her up out of the water. She was too tired to scream or protest when she found herself pressed against Connor’s broad, warm chest. He carried her out of the water, with the bag.
“I-I l-lost it,” she said, trying to keep her teeth from chattering and failing miserably.
“It’s okay.” He set her on her feet. Grabbing the bag, he opened it and found clothes. “Guess that other was the food, huh? At least we still have our shoes. Here. Change. Now,” he said, thrusting a bundle of clothing at her.
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