Since Zed apparently rarely left his hideout and could give a crap if we threatened his own, even getting to that monster would be a challenge in itself, much less trying to win his favor. There was only one thing about Zed we could count on.
His bloodlust.
This Tribe leader liked to make public spectacles of those who had wronged him. For a traitor’s killing, he would definitely make an appearance. Despite my protests, our plan evolved from this knowledge. It was the riskiest plan and the most likely to get one—if not all of us—killed.
If getting to Zed necessitated getting caught, then Triven and I would allow ourselves to be captured, but this time, we weren’t the only ones putting our lives on the line. If it was just the two of us, there was no guarantee we wouldn’t be slaughtered on the spot. But with a deserter, an ex-Taciturn, caught with us… well, let’s just say Zed would want to add to his wardrobe.
I avoided looking at Arden as we crouched behind a collapsing chimney.
I trusted him with my life, and although it was selfish, I was glad Otto had volunteered first. My friend had already been through so much. I also wasn’t sure I could have handled both Triven and Arden there with me. But I still had half a mind to knock Triven out and leave him behind tomorrow. He had forgiven me for abandoning him and Mouse once before, but I knew he wouldn’t if I left him behind again.
I wouldn’t if the roles were reversed.
Triven’s hand wound discreetly over mine as though he had heard my thoughts. His warm fingers squeezed gently.
I pressed back. No, he would not forgive me for that.
“They’re moving on.” Arden peered past the bricks to a small group of tattooed covered figures on the ground below.
“Then we should too.” Triven’s hand squeezed once more before letting go.
We had split up to better scout the area and though Otto should have been with us, no one protested when Grenald had demanded they not be separated. Frankly, I wouldn’t have blamed them if they had secreted off to spend some time alone. The closer death loomed, the more we sought solace in those we loved. Especially if that loved one might die tomorrow.
The thought had crossed my mind many times in the past few days to do the same with Triven. Every night I curled up in his arms, pressing my back into his chest. But aside from those few restless hours, we kept our physical contact to a minimum in front of the others. Brushing hands, squeezing fingers, it suddenly wasn’t enough and I wished Arden had gone with the others too.
It felt wrong letting Arden take the lead tonight, but as well as I knew the rooftops, he knew this area and the people that stalked it. His scarred face had been tense since we left the Scavenger’s territory and the strain amplified as we ran. Though I could sense his relief at not being the bait tomorrow, there was something eating at Arden. His twisted lips seemed to pull down against the scars. But then again, maybe it was nothing. We were all twitchier than usual and none of us had been at ease since leaving Xavier’s barracks.
Arden’s feet moved in steady assured steps, but like mine, there was a haste behind their movements. He wanted to be out of here as badly as I did. Probably more.
Shoulders nearly touching, the three of us bounded across the gap to the next building and the stillness of the night was shattered.
Triven saw them first, but his cry of warning was too late.
As our feet landed on solid ground, the shadows suddenly leapt to life.
Arden was the first to fall. There was a glint as he pulled a knife, but it flew from his grasp as a pillar of metal crashed down on him. The towering vent shaft collided with Arden’s lean body, knocking him flat and pinning him on the spot, his thrashing limbs were at least a sign that he was still alive.
My own fingers barely grazed the grip of my gun when a fist collided with the side of my face. Hands and knives seemed to come at me from all sides—grabbing, punching and slashing from every direction. Tattooed hands.
I blocked, trying to fight off each assault. Many of my own punches smashed into jaws, noses and stomachs, but too many blows were landing on me as well. I staggered. Two gunshots discharged somewhere behind me and I foolishly turned to look. I glimpsed Triven as his gun was ripped from his hands. Both of his arms were wrenched back at impossible angles as he was slammed face first into the tarry rooftop. Blood coated his forehead and leaked from his nose.
For one second his gaze met mine. Terror I had only seen once before—when I had left him and Mouse in a sewer grate—flared in his hazel eyes. Then there were hands in my hair ripping me back off my feet and into a wall of human flesh. My scalp blazed as a knife’s blade bit into soft skin. In desperation, I snapped at the ink-covered arm holding me, biting hard enough to tear flesh. But an involuntary cry escaped me as the Taciturn yanked harder on my hair. Triven began to thrash against his own three captors, his eyes locked only on me. A woman’s foot ground down over his head smashing Triven’s face further into the ground. She pulled a gun, pressing it next to her heel on Triven’s temple with a sneer. Tears stung my eyes. I had thought I watched him die once before. I barely survived it then, I would not survive it now.
Hands groped my body, relieving me of every weapon they could find. The same was quickly done to Triven, but Arden was left alone, his ex-Tribesmen enjoying his frantic thrashing. Blood filled my mouth as I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. There were thirteen of them. Four for every one of us, plus a small woman who seemed to be doing little more than enjoying the show.
The image of a female being run through with a blade writhed on the forearm flexed beneath my nose and she was not the only marking visible in the night light. Images of skeletons, reapers, flames, weapons, demonic looking creatures and bloody bodies covered every inch of our attackers’ skin. What little skin was not exposed, was concealed by grey and maroon clothing. Taciturns, all of them.
Our recon had suddenly become the mission. I forced my breathing to steady.
This had been what we had wanted. Not in the way we wanted, but the result was still the same. Only Arden had unwittingly taken Otto’s place. And, the others had no idea to come looking for us. We were on our own and if not careful—and lucky—in the next few minutes, we could easily be left for dead on this rooftop.
A line of fire blistered to life on my throat as the blade pressed against bare flesh. While both Arden and Triven continued to struggle, I stilled. One fact caused me to compose myself.
They had not killed any of us.
They wanted something.
“Enough!” I shouted over the melee. Triven’s body stilled at my cry, his battered face still smashed to the tar. Only one eye could meet mine and despite the fear blooming there he calmed himself. The shortest woman—the watcher—eyed me, curiosity lighting in her black eyes. The corners of her mouth perked.
Unlike Triven and me, however, Arden continued to thrash. His legs were pinned underneath the upended vent, on which a rather large Tribesman was now perched, obviously enjoying his prey’s struggles. Arden howled with rage and the flailing only ceased when the small female pressed her boot on Arden’s exposed throat. His long fingers fought to keep the worn boot at bay, barely stopping her from crushing his larynx. The woman’s dark eyes flickered my way once more before again falling on the ex-Tribesman pinned beneath her.
“Well, well, what do we have here? Little Arden is that you?” The sole of her boot pushed harder against his hands, closing on his bobbing neck. He snarled a string of gargled expletives, his words choked off along with his air supply. The woman eyeballed the knife that had tumbled loose from his grasp in the brawl. A wicked grin split her lips as she leaned down forcing her full weight on the boy. “You never were much of one for killing as I recall. But I must say you have gotten prettier in our time apart.”
She winked at him, blowing a derisive kiss at his scarred face.
With a shriek, Arden shoved against her foot, but d
idn’t gain an inch until the woman leaned back. With a flick of her hand, the Taciturn pinning his legs slid from his perch, freeing our friend. Arden did not hesitate. With a final thrust, he sent the woman staggering a few steps back while he rolled out from under the vent and to his weapon. Manic laughter erupted from the woman as she regained her footing. Despite the rage emanating from Arden, nothing about her demeanor looked malevolent. On the contrary, she seemed entertained.
“Things change!” Arden howled. The knife scraped the rooftop as he snatched it, ready to attack, but she was ready for him. As his knife tip darted forward it was met with a gun pointed in his face.
“Keep that rage traitor,” she cooed. “It will serve you well in times like these.”
I watched the fire drain from my friend’s face, but his grip on the knife didn’t loosen.
“Get it over with already.” The words hissed through his clenched teeth. “Kill us.”
Triven’s shoulders twitched, earning him a stomp in his back. The leader’s mouth opened but it was my voice that answered first.
“They won’t kill us.”
The woman’s head swiveled toward me, her black eyes shining. She slinked like a cat to stand before me. Stopping with the tips of her black boots kissing mine, she threw her left hand over the lower portion of her face. If not for the fist buried in my hair and cementing my head in place, I would have flinched. The back of her hand created a type of perverse mask, the tattooed skin creating the illusion of skeletal jaw. Despite her now hidden mouth, it was easy to tell she was grinning beneath the tattooed hand-mask. Though muffled by her palm, the words were still clear as she cocked her head to the side.
“And what makes you so sure of that my Pet?”
22. AMBUSH
T HE KNIFE TIGHTENED against my neck, but did not bury itself further into the skin.
“You want something.” I countered, careful to relax my features into something akin to boredom despite my breathlessness. Or at least I hoped it looked like that way.
With an explosive giggle, the crazy-eyed Taciturn bounced back a few steps on the balls of her feet, the masked hand falling away to reveal the lower part of her grinning face again. She continued to bobble in place, clapping her hands like a frenzied child. “I had a feeling I would like you dearest Phoenix.”
All three of our bodies stiffened as my name tumbled loose from her lips. I prayed the Taciturn holding me couldn’t feel the increasing heartbeat racing in my neck.
“I don’t believe I have had the pleasure…” My words were covered in frost.
The wicked smile widened as her cocked head, twisting it further to an almost impossible angle. “Well, I don’t believe you have. Name’s Sedia, Pet. Sometimes this silly little mind of mine forgets that we never actually met, despite all of the goodies I have stored away in here about you.” Wide eyes now serious, she tapped her temple and pursed her lips. The effect made her look utterly unhinged.
“You’ve been watching us, Sedia.” There was no question in my tone.
She shrugged noncommittally, winking as the skull mask on her left hand once again hid her stained teeth. While Sedia’s fellow Tribesmen watched her with adoration, drinking in the insanity, there was something about the glint in her eye that left the back of my scalp tingling. An Old World phrase crept to mind. Crazy like a fox.
Yes, that was what this woman was.
Insane or not—it was hard to tell and maybe a little of both—this black-eyed Taciturn was unquestionably a fox and a deadly one at that.
“You’ve been busy little rogues, the lot of you.” Sedia’s eyes glinted wildly as they swept our battered party. Dropping her hand, Sedia’s face cracked wide with a cat-like grin as she leered at Arden. Her dark eyes caressed every inch of his trembling body, drinking in his fear.
“Oh, don’t worry lovey, we’re not here to skin you… Yet.” The letter “t” crashed harshly against her front teeth. She chomped her teeth at him before tittering to herself.
In one fluid movement, the fox woman hopped effortlessly onto the now vacant vent shaft, the metal booming under her small weight. Her slim legs swung, kicking back against the tarnished metal with deafening booms five times before she suddenly fell still. Life seemed to slip from her face as she distractedly fingered a hole in her tattered leggings, undoubtedly distracted by voices only she could hear. The awkward silence dragged on until the Tribesman restraining me cleared his throat, loudly. Like the flip of a switch, the manic grin once again beamed mega-watt in the darkness, and her head cocked to the side swiveling in my direction once more. “We hear you’re having a party and we have come to play.”
Then, with a snap of her fingers, we were suddenly released—the fleshy manacles holding my wrists disappearing along with the biting blade. I spared Triven a glance as he winced to his feet. Possibly a few bruised ribs and a cheekbone, but no major damage. His gaze flew to me making the same assessment. We gave no other sign of affection for each other. Love could easily be turned into a weapon. My Grandfather had proved that.
Despite the urge to rub my tender wrists and check my own neck, I folded my arms casually over my chest.
“And I’m supposed to believe you’re in. Just like that.” My eyebrows peaked. “Nothing comes that easy. Not without a cost, Sedia.” I scoured her face searching for tells, but her flashing eyes gave nothing.
The woman picked at her teeth before examining whatever she had dislodged from there. She wiped it distractedly on the man’s vest standing nearest. His lips twisted, the snake tattooed on his jaw wriggling in response, but he did nothing to stop her. Instead, she stroked his arm like an obedient pet and surprisingly he relaxed under her touch.
“Oh, I never said that we were in for sure. I merely implied that if you set up a meeting of the Tribes, our leader will be there. I’ll see to that. But after that, it’s up to our illustrious leader. He may kill you on the spot to be honest. Zed has never really played well with others. Not like me.” She winked at me and a dark laugh rumbled through the surrounding Taciturns. Springing down from her perch, Sedia came to stand before me again. Now that my head was no longer being wrenched back, it was surprising to see we were almost the same height, though she carried herself like a much taller person.
“So, Pet, can we come play? Pretty please?” Her head tilted sharply toward the other shoulder this time as her dark lashes batted rapidly.
Imaginary spiders were swarming up my throat, trying to claw their way out. I choked them down, trying to keep my voice steady.
I wanted to glance at Triven, to read his face, but as Sedia’s wild eyes danced over mine I knew our eye contact could not be broken. One should never break the gaze of a wild animal, lest it attack. I had to make this decision on my own.
This was what we had wanted, but still, gooseflesh rose over my arms. Although she was not their leader, deigning her could mean having our throats slit here and now.
My mouth worked around the words before speaking them. “We’ll mark the building the day of the meeting. It will be a place on neutral ground. Look for the white smoke.”
She took one of my guns from the Taciturn who had robbed me of it. Shoving her finger under the trigger she spun the weapon with impressive speed. I tried not to flinch, knowing full well the safety was not on. One slip and she could shoot any of us. In a flash the sidearm righted in her hand, the barrel pointed directly between Arden’s wide eyes.
My left eye twitched. If she killed Arden with my gun…
But she didn’t pull the trigger. Keeping her mark, Sedia stalked uncomfortably close to me. Every muscle ached to move back, but I commanded them to stay as the tip of her nose grazed mine.
“See you in three days, Pet.” She purred and then shockingly pressed her mouth over mine in a quick, harsh kiss. This time my foot inched back, but before I could react Sedia was skipping away, waving my gun over her head. “Thanks for the new toys!”
The others dislodged themselves, following t
he dancing girl. Though none of them carried themselves in the same manner as their deranged spokeswoman. My captor placed a well-aimed shoulder into my back as he passed and a hand clapped loudly on the side of Triven’s bruised face. But it was the woman who licked Arden’s ear as she left that made me clench my fists. I counted the seconds as they disappeared into the night. a Six buildings away their ink covered bodies dropped over the edge, but not before Sedia turned around and blew a kiss, this time aimed at Triven.
The moment her dark hair vanished, Arden collapsed. Our friend hit the ground, every inch of him shaking uncontrollably. A cross between a sob and a scream burst from deep inside his chest. I moved to his side, but before I could touch him, Arden recoiled.
“Don’t touch me!” He screamed. Tears fell in strange patterns down his scarred cheeks. “Don’t touch me…”
He said it softer the second time, and somehow that made it cut deeper. Still, I understood.
Triven moved closer, but was careful not to touch either of us. He was scanning the buildings around us, moving his lips as little as possible as he spoke. “We need to get the hell out of here. Now.”
My eyes darted up following his. He was right. There was no telling who else knew we were here—who might be watching us now.
“Can you move?” I didn’t look down to Arden for a response and he didn’t give one. Instead he rose to his feet and began taking shaky steps in the opposite direction from where the Taciturns had just disappeared.
Arden bolted, running, moving faster than I had ever seen him move. We didn’t hesitate to follow. I overtook him, making sure to lead us in a roundabout path. It was unlikely the Taciturns knew where our night’s hideout was, and I certainly wasn’t going to lead them cleanly back to it. Though something instinctual told me they were no longer watching us, it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.
New World Inferno: Book Three in a Young Adult Dystopian Series Page 17
