The Dead Saga (Book 5): Odium V

by Claire C. Riley

  Blood is spurting from Drag, and when Aife stands upright, her mouth and face are covered in it. And in her teeth is Drag’s ear.

  Butcher automatically drops his gun. “Drop ’em, brothers, right the fuck now!” he bellows.

  Nitro still looks uncertain, despite the state his brother is in. He looks between Drag and Aife, but Drag’s eyes have rolled back in his head. I don’t understand how he’s still standing while being in so much pain.

  Mikey’s hand reaches out and touches mine, and I cling to it, to him, my horror-filled gaze staying on Aife. She’s like something out of a movie, or a figment of my imagination, and I wonder if this was the sort of thing that Mikey saw with Clare and Tim. Was this the horror that they had put him through? Because if I make it out of this alive, I don’t know if I’ll be the same either.

  This isn’t normal.

  This isn’t how life should be.

  “Nitro! Put it the fuck down, brother!” Butcher yells, and this time Nitro does what he’s told. It’s obvious that Butcher was second in command before Nitro came back, but what’s also obvious is that Nitro is a follower and not a leader.

  When all the Rejects have dropped their weapons, the Savages come between each man and scoop up their weapons from the ground. Drag has garnered some sense back now, and is looking panicked but full of rage as he looks over at his men.

  “Tell them to get on their knees,” Aife says to him.

  “Fuck you.”

  Aife smiles. “Do it now, or I kill one of them.”

  Drag spits on the ground in answer and then he starts to laugh. Aife laughs too, and then aims her gun at Nitro.

  “Your brother, yes? I’ll kill him first.”

  Drag stops laughing, but he still doesn’t tell his men to get to their knees.

  “Or maybe I’ll keep him alive for a little bit. He’ll trade well for me,” she says, moving toward Nitro and looking him up and down. She moves in a circle around him. “Yes, we’ll keep him alive for a long time—he can take the pain.” She looks toward Drag. “He will fill our bellies.”

  Drag laughs again. “Dirty fucker will love that.”

  Nitro laughs too, but it’s a nervous laugh. One filled with uncertainty.

  “You misunderstand,” Aife says to Drag. “He will feed our hunger for a long time.” Aife licks her lips, smearing some of the blood. Drag’s ear is in her hand and she looks at the two Savages closest to Nitro, and they both grab him, holding him tightly. She takes a step forward. “Open up,” she whispers, lifting the ear to his mouth.

  Nitro looks horrified and keeps his mouth closed, and Aife takes out her gun and shoots him in the leg. Nitro cries out and drops to his knees, his hand clutching his leg. The two Savages pull him down to the ground and Aife leans over him, forcing his mouth open, and shoves the ear inside.

  “Yum, yum, right,” she laughs, standing upright. Her gaze falls to Butcher. “Tell them all to kneel.”

  Butcher looks over at the Rejects, who are all watching him, their stares filled with anger and hatred.

  “Aife,” Butcher starts. “These men won’t kneel for you, or for anyone. They’d rather meet Hades than do that. So kill them, us, if you have to, but they ain’t kneelin’ for nobody.”

  Mikey squeezes my hand and I squeeze his back, hoping it’s not going to be the last thing I ever feel. In the distance I hear some chains rattling, and I watch as Aife nods to some of the Savages and a handful run off into the woods.

  Aife walks back over to Drag and Nitro spits out his brother’s ear. She runs her hands through Drag’s hair once more, and this time there’s no smirks from Drag.

  “What did you really come here for?” she says to him.

  “To fuck,” he replies. “Didn’t realize it was your time of the month though, or I would have stayed away, fucking cunt!” He’s acting cocky, but there’s no real humor to him anymore.

  Aife pulls on his hair again. “Tell me the truth.”

  She pulls a knife from a sheath at her waistband and holds it against Drag’s face. She looks over at the Rejects and uses the same weird talk that she had before. I don’t understand what she’s saying, but the Savages apparently do as they rush forward and aim their guns at the backs of each of the Rejects’ heads. I feel hard metal press against my skull and I squeeze my eyes closed, thankful that I’m at least holding onto Mikey’s hand when I die this time and not falling off a building into a horde of zeds and being left for dead.

  I’ll take a bullet to the back of the head over beaten eaten alive by zeds any day.

  “Wait,” Mikey says loudly from next to me.

  I open my eyes but can’t turn my head to look at him.

  “You have my friend, that’s what we were coming for. Nothing else, just him.”

  Aife looks at Mikey and then lowers her knife. She moves between the Savages and the Rejects until she’s standing in front of Mikey, her gaze drifting downwards to our clasped hands.

  “Which friend? We have many friends here,” she says, looking into Mikey’s eyes. “Would you like to be one of our friends?”

  “No, ma’am,” Mikey says. “We just wanted to get our friend and be on our way.”

  I squeeze his hand, but he doesn’t squeeze it back.

  “What does your friend look like?” she asks.

  “Long hair, glasses, lanky,” Mikey says. “His name is Phil. You traded him with Clare and Tim just yesterday, but he wasn’t theirs to trade.”

  Mikey sounds polite but firm, and he never wavers from looking at Aife.

  “I know of your friend,” she says.

  Up close she’s just as beautiful, if not more, than from afar. Her skin, barring Drag’s blood smeared across it, is flawless, her hair long and thick, and her body is lithe and strong. It’s hard to believe that she’s a cannibal. It’s hard to believe that any one of these women are, but I just saw what she did, so there really is no denying it. I take a closer look at what she’s wearing, realizing all too late that it’s not leather that she wears, but skin, and I feel my throat tighten so much I can hardly breathe.

  Aife looks across at me, and then back to Mikey. “Is she yours?”

  Mikey lets go of my hand and shakes his head. “No.”

  Aife smiles. “I like cooperation,” she says. “Will you kneel for me?”

  I watch Mikey’s Adam’s apple bob in his throat before he slowly goes down to one knee. He looks up at her, his gaze avoiding the knife in her hand. Aife smiles again.

  “I like you. I think I’ll keep you as my pet.” She turns and speaks in her riddle again and two Savages move forward and grab Mikey’s arms, pulling him up.

  “No, please!” I call as they begin to pull him away from me. I try to take a step forward but a sharp pain in the back of my head has me dropping to my knees and clutching at my skull.

  My vision blurs as I try to focus on what is happening. There’s a commotion and shouting, and a gun goes off, and then I make it back to my feet, my hand trying to stem the blood from my head where I was just pistol-whipped.

  Mikey is being taken into the cave, as is Drag, and the Rejects are being ordered back onto their bikes. Nitro does as he’s told by Butcher and climbs on his bike, and then Butcher is walking back toward the truck. He grips my arm as he passes and starts to drag me away.

  “I’m not fucking leaving him, Butcher!” I shout, trying to pull out of his grip.

  Butcher throws me up against the side of the truck and glares down at me. “Those growling meat sacks are on their way, we have no weapons—no guns, no knives, no axes, nothin’! They have us pinned five to one, and they have our prez. We don’t have a fuckin’ choice, bitch, now get in the damn truck and drive!”

  He pulls open the door and practically throws me inside. I fall against the seat and quickly right myself. “I’m not leaving him!” I growl out.

  Butcher climbs in after me. “Yeah, you are. They’ve thrown us a lifeline—our deal’s still on, and we get to leave here in
one piece, this time. Drag and your boy will be fine, for now.”

  Aife and the other Savages are standing by the cave entrance, watching us all leave. Aife is the only one smiling, her arms crossed over her chest. Mikey and Drag are already gone, taken inside. Movement from inside the cave makes my heart leap.

  “Wait!” I say to Butcher as he reaches over me and shoves the key in the ignition. “Wait, something’s happening!”

  My ears are ringing and my head is still aching, but it only takes me a second to realize that it’s not Mikey coming back out. One of the Savages comes back out with a long-haired, lanky man in her grip. His wrists are tied together in front of him and his head is down. His face is scrunched up against the brightness of the day.

  “Here is the one you were looking for. You can keep him, and I keep your other friend,” Aife says, and then they all start to go back inside.

  Chapter Forty-One

  The man looks around him, panicking when he sees the zeds coming from between the trees. He starts to run toward our truck as the bikes begin to leave one by one. His long hair is loose and sticking to his sweaty cheeks, his feet stumbling over tree roots.

  “Is that him? The guy you were looking for?” Butcher asks me.

  He’s tall and lanky, and for a second I see Phil, or at least I want to see Phil, but then he looks up and I realize it’s not him, it’s just someone who looks like him. I shake my head no and Butcher sits back in his seat.

  “Butcher, help him!” I say, panicked as the man gets closer to us, his fear obvious on his face.

  “Not my problem,” he says, pulling out his cigars and lighting one.

  I dive out of the truck and grab the guy by the scruff of his neck, and then it’s my turn to throw someone in the truck. The guy has no weight to him whatsoever, as if they’ve been starving him. He grunts out in pain and climbs up, and then I climb in behind him and slam my door shut before the zeds can get to me.

  They’ve made it into the clearing now and they all surround the dead bodies on the ground. I watch for a moment as three Rejects and one Savage are torn apart by the hungry, greedy hands of the dead.

  “Move this truck, now,” Butcher yells from next to me, his voice filling the too-small space.

  I start to back out of our position, hitting some of the zeds that get too close. The man next to me is silent and staring out the window in a daze.

  Back out on the road, Butcher leans out the window to speak to the Rejects that are waiting.

  “Head back to HQ, split up in case any of these crazy bitches decide to follow us.” When no one moves he takes a deep breath. “We’ll be back for our prez, brothers. We ain’t leavin’ him here. But right now, we’re outnumbered and outgunned. We need to get back and load up, you hear me?”

  They all nod in agreement and then take off, splitting up into two groups.

  “Follow Nitro,” Butcher says. “That green-haired motherfucker better not be splittin’ on us again.”

  I follow Nitro, and when we come to a crossroads the ten remaining bikers split up into another two groups until I’m only following Nitro and four others. Butcher is puffing on his cigar like it’s an inhaler and he needs it to breathe, and I’m trembling and trying not to cry.

  “My name’s Marley,” the guy from next to me says.

  At first I don’t hear him, I’m so lost in my own thoughts and worries for Mikey and what the hell I’m going to do. I came out of Haven with three men, and now all that remains is me. I know in my heart that I can’t go back to Haven alone. So much has happened—too much. I wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain to Aiken.

  “Hey, can someone like untie my ropes, please?” Marley says.

  I look across at him, my gaze going to his ropes. Butcher can’t untie them because he only has one arm, and Marley quickly realizes that so he looks at me with a passionate plea.

  “You’ll have to wait until we stop,” I say, my voice sounding foreign to my ears.

  “Sure, sure,” he replies, and then looks back outside the window. “Thought I was going to die in there,” he mumbles. He turns to look at me again. “You got any herb on you? I could really use something to calm my nerves right now, dude.”

  I frown and shake my head without looking at him, and then I drown out the rest of what he says as the bikes come to another crossroads.

  “Pull up alongside, Nitro,” Butcher orders.

  Nitro looks up as I do.

  “We need to split up again. Those bitches have got their eyes everywhere. Head straight back to HQ, these brothers will vouch for you. I’ll be there soon enough.”

  Nitro looks like he wants to say something, but then he changes his mind. He shakes his head and then he takes off in the opposite direction, with the other three bikes following.

  “Keep going straight. There’s another turnoff soon.”

  I do as I’m told, not really caring right now. All I can think about is Mikey and what might be happening to him. I’d only just gotten him back. I’d only just found him and he’d only just let me in and now they’ve taken him. I look up at the sky, at the clouds about to break open in a storm, and I curse God and everything he stands for. Is it not good enough for him to kill everyone I care about? To kill the world, and destroy everything? Is it not good enough to make us all feel this much misery? But now he’s given me a touch of love, an ounce of hope, and then snatched it away from me again.

  I don’t even realize that I’m crying until Marley wipes my cheek with his still-tied-up hands. When I look across at him he offers me a smile, but I can’t reciprocate it.

  “Slow down,” Butcher says, his words low as he leans forward in his seat.

  I look across at him in confusion. “Why?”

  He nods toward the windshield and I look back out and try to focus. In the distance I can see a bike.

  “Is that one of ours?” I ask.

  Butcher shakes his head no.

  “Well who is it?” I ask, panic rising. He’d said that the Savages might follow—could this be them. Would they kill us now, out here and away from everyone else?

  “That’s one of the Highwaymen,” Butcher replies. He reaches over and opens the glove box on the truck before rooting around inside it. I know instantly that he’s looking for a weapon, but we have nothing.

  We’re out here with nothing.

  “Shit,” I whisper, watching as they get closer and closer. “Is this as bad as you’re making it out?”

  Butcher looks over at me. “Yeah, maybe worse. They’re our enemy.”

  “All you seem to have is enemies!” I yell.

  “Fuckin’ tell me about it,” he replies.

  The bike has slowed down now, and I can see that a man is riding it. He’s a big guy, but not as big as Butcher, with long, shoulder-length hair tied back and a short beard. He pulls to a stop and I can see him looking through the glass, his gaze on me. He looks torn, unsure as to what to do, and it’s then that I see he has someone with him. Another person is on his bike, their hands wrapped around his middle.

  Butcher leans out the window. “We’re not here for trouble. You’d know if we were.”

  The other man doesn’t say anything. His gaze is still on me, but not in the way that the Rejects look at me—like I’m property, or I’m in danger. There’s something softer about this man’s look, despite his vicious persona.

  The other person behind him moves, and he reaches down and pats her hand before whispering something to her.

  “Is that a woman?” the Highwayman asks, and he sounds pissed off.

  Butcher glances at me and huffs out a breath. “Yeah, but it’s not like that.”

  “It’s always like that, Butcher,” he grits out.

  Butcher throws his cigar to the ground. “Not this time.”

  Silence passes between the two men and I realize that they’re both weighing up their options and trying to decide the best resolution for this situation. I decide that despite what Butcher may thin
k, it’s probably time I said something.

  “It’s really not like that,” I call out to the other man.

  His gaze hits me hard, hard enough that it takes my breath away. Even from this distance I can see that he has the bluest eyes I might have ever seen.

  “I’m okay. Butcher was actually helping me.”

  The other man’s mouth twitches. “Until he gets you back to his clubhouse and you become a whore for him and his brothers,” he replies. “I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle, ma’am.”

  The person on the back of his bike must say something because he turns his head to listen to her, though his gaze remains on the truck. He doesn’t like what she has to say, though, and his frown deepens.

  “Listen, brother,” Butcher starts.

  “I’m not your brother,” he replies.

  Butcher laughs bitterly. “Shooter, I’ve had a real shitty day—in fact, make that a month. I’ve had a real shitty month, and I need you to move the fuck out of my way, right the fuck now before I really lose my shit.”

  The other man, who I’m guessing is called Shooter, doesn’t look like he gives a damn what Butcher says. Unless I get out of this truck, we’re not going anywhere.

  “Sir, Shooter, sir,” I call to him. “I’m really okay. We’ve just had some trouble with—”

  “Bitch, shut your damn mouth right the fuck now!” Butcher bellows next to me.

  Marley is pressed against my side, not to protect me, but to get as far away from Butcher as he can.

  “They might be able to help!” I plead.

  “We don’t need their help, bitch!”

  “Stop calling me ‘bitch’!” I scream at him as I finally come apart. I put my head in my hands and start to cry, and I feel so embarrassed for losing my shit right now, but I can’t stop it either. The panic at losing Ricky and Phil and now Mikey—it’s just too much. Mikey, of all people. Mikey, who I feel like I’ve been searching for my whole life. Mikey, who makes me feel alive again. Mikey, who might be being cut up and eaten right now… I scream and scream and I slam my hands on the steering wheel in frustration and anger and sadness.