Writing on the Wall s-1

by Tracey Ward

  I’m gone.

  * * *

  “Are you cold?” a woman asks me.

  I pull myself up off the freezing metal floor of the van, fighting against the rocking as it bumps silently down the uneven streets. I thought the back of the van was empty but it’s not. There are three people huddled deep in the back; one man in his late twenties with two women. One is only a couple years older than I am while the other is easily older than the man. They’re all bundled up tight, ready for the cold weather, and the man sits between them. Each of the women has her arms wrapped around one of his biceps, pulling him close.

  “Um,” I try to speak but my tongue feels thick. My head wobbles on my shoulders while the world tilts precariously.

  “Uh oh,” the guy says, rushing toward me. “She’s going over. Nats, give her you’re the sweater under your coat.”

  He has my shoulders firmly between his, holding me up as he looks me squarely in the face. I’m struck by how handsome he is. Dark hair, bright green eyes, chiseled features. The women look nothing like him, not even the same nationality, and I wonder how they all know each other. Just another band of survivors hiding out together?

  Then it hits me through the fog. The way they were sitting together. The way Nats immediately jumped to it when he told her to give up her sweater despite the cold. The angry hornet tattoo on his neck.

  “You’re in The Hive.” I mutter.

  “You’ve heard of us?” he asks absently, pulling the sweater over my head.

  “No one in the wild hasn’t heard of The Hive.”

  He shrugs. “I guess we’re pretty well known.”

  “Well known?” I ask, pulling out of his grasp to finish dressing on my own. Pride and bravado, remember? Cornerstones of life. “Notorious is more like it. Feared is even better.”

  He sits back on his heels to give me an appraising look. His face is hard but I can see it is in his eyes. He’s amused.

  “You don’t seem too scared right now.”

  I snort. “Not of you. You’re not my biggest problem at the moment. Hell, you’re not even my smallest problem.”

  He grins as he shakes his head. “What crew has been hiding you?”

  “None. I’m not in one. Never have been.” I look at him pointedly. “I never will be.”

  He laughs. “No joke? You’ve been going it alone?”

  I nod feeling ridiculously proud under his appreciative stare. “Six years now.”

  “That was a good run.”

  I move to sit at the end of the van with my back against the closed doors, the borrowed sweater pulled around me tightly.

  “It’s not over yet.”

  “Oh, Kitten,” he says, emphasizing the word to prove his point that they have me. “You know where you are. It’s over.”

  “Don’t call me kitten and it’s not over until I’m dead.”

  The grin is wiped off his face as he watches me. I look back unsure but unflinching. Finally he heads back to his girls and I think I hear him mutter, “Where have you been hiding?”

  We ride in silence for what feels like hours. I can’t stand not being able to see outside. I can’t tell what time of day it is. The rhythm of the jostling van is a problem for me too. It keeps lulling me to sleep and every time I nod off, I get yelled at.

  “Wake up!” the hornet shouts, shattering the quiet.

  I jerk my head up, startled awake for the fiftieth time.

  “Quit yelling at me.” I grumble, rubbing my temples. I have a killer headache.

  “Quit falling asleep. You have a concussion. You’ll die if you sleep.”

  I glare at him. “You know an awful lot. Taken a few hits to the head, have you?”

  He ignores me. “What’s your name?”

  I eye him across the space between us, not sure how I want to respond.

  He sighs impatiently. “Do I look like Rumplestiltskin?”

  “What?”

  “I’m not Rumplestiltskin. Giving me your name doesn’t give me power.”

  “That’s not how it goes.” Nats chimes in. She’s huddled in the corner beside the guy, the other girl asleep with her head in Nats’ lap.

  Her pimp frowns at her. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought the whole point was a name exchange.”

  She nods. “It is, but it’s the other way around. It doesn’t make sense the way you said it. If she’s hiding her name then she would be Rumplestiltskin.”

  “Who would I be?”

  Nats smirks. “You’re a Queen.”

  He chuckles and turns back to me. “What’s your name?”

  “Joss.” I reply warily.

  I’m confused by the dynamic between Nats and the guy. It’s not what I expected between a pimp and a slave. They almost seem like friends.

  “Well, Joss, this is Natalie or Nats,” the guy says pointing at the woman in the corner. “Snoring in her lap is Breanne.”

  “And who are you?”

  Nats laughs. “He’s a Stable Boy.”

  He looks at her indignantly. “I am the Stable Boy.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask, scared I already know the answer.

  “It means he watches out for The Hive’s women. Breanne and I included.”

  “Did a piss poor job of it today.” he grumbles, fisting his hand and glaring down at it. It’s then that I notice the cuts along the back of it, all of them fresh and enflamed. He threw some punches recently.

  “Knock it off, Vin.” Nats tells him harshly. He looks over at, his face dark. “You did all you could for us.”

  “Then why are you in this van?”

  “What’s important is that we’re not alone in this van. You could have left us, but you didn’t.”

  “That’s not a victory. I should have saved you.”

  “You’re here, aren’t you? Maybe you still will.”

  Vin chuckles darkly as he looks at his hands again. There’s a dark metal ring on his left hand that he spins thoughtfully. Just as I’m about to doze off again he looks up at me, studying me. “Maybe Kitten here will help me.”

  “You saw what happened to the last guy who called me that, right?”

  The smile Vin gives me then can only be described with one word; sexy. It’s not something I’m terribly familiar with but he wears it well.

  “Help you do what?” I ask.

  “Escape the Colony.”

  I take a deep breath, trying to focus on not falling asleep. It’s becoming a struggle. My head aches so bad I’d love nothing more than to lie down. “We haven’t even gotten there yet. How do you know you won’t love it?”

  “Because I belong in the wild. So do you.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “I know a wild thing when I see it and you, Kitten, are a wild thing. Six years on your own? You don’t want to be locked up in a cage or you would have joined willingly years ago. I’m still trying to sort out how you hid from the gangs all these years, let alone the Colonists and Risen.”

  “I found ways. You said it yourself, I don’t want to be locked up in a cage.”

  “Or a stable?” Nats asks wryly.

  I glance at her, not sure if I’ve offended her, but her face is placid.

  “Not anywhere by anyone.”

  She nods in understanding but says nothing else. Vin falls silent as well and soon the only sound in the van is Breanne’s snoring along with the bump of the suspension on the rough, ruined roads. I doze off eventually. Vin lets me do it. Maybe he’s got other stuff on his mind. Maybe he figures I’m not in his stable, I’m not his problem. I don’t know how long I’m out but I wake with a start when the van slams to a halt.

  “Get back here against this wall.” Vin says urgently.

  I scurry across the floor of the van to the back where I squat down next to Breanne. She’s groggily sitting up, rubbing her eyes and looking more afraid with each passing second. She’s the younger of the two women though she’s still older
than I am, but something in her face is almost childlike.

  “So what do you say?” Vin asks me quietly.

  There’s a screeching of metal against metal then a long yawning sound. We move forward again and the acoustics outside the vehicle change drastically. There’s an echo now. I imagine we’ve entered some kind of building.

  “You gonna help me get us out of here?” he asks.

  The yawning again, then a deafening slam. All light coming in from any cracks in the door is extinguished and we’re plunged in total darkness. I hear Breanne whimper pitifully.

  “No one’s ever escaped the Colonies.” I whisper, feeling my heart leap into my throat as the silence drags out.

  When Vin looks over at me the pull of his electric green eyes forces me to look back. He grins, his face fierce.

  “There’s a first time for everything.” He reaches out his hand, offering it to shake. To make a deal.

  There’s a screech of metal again, then another yawn, this time from the front of the van. We lurch forward. We’re passing through something. We’re entering their compound. This is real.

  I hesitate only a moment before slipping my hand into his. I’m surprised to feel cold metal pressed between our palms and when I take my hand away I see that he’s slipped a small, sharpened scrap of metal into it. It’s not much, not even enough to call a knife. It won’t kill but it will hurt.

  “They’re going to separate me from you girls.” Vin tells me hurriedly as we roll quickly over surprising smooth ground. “Keep them safe and I’ll work on our escape. Deal?”

  The van stops. Doors are opened and slammed. Footsteps approach from both sides to meet at the back door.

  “Do we have a deal?” Vin demands.

  The door flies open. Bright afternoon light spills in, blinding us all. I hear footsteps thunder across the metal floor then harsh hands lift me up and pull me away. Breanne screams. I hear Vin’s deep, calm voice telling her to cool it. That it’ll be alright. More feet, more hands, then cold air.

  “Kitten!” Vin calls. I can hear him struggling in the back of the van. “Do we have a deal?!”

  “Couple hours with her and you’re already trying to pimp her?” a guy asks from beside me. “We don’t play that way here. You’re out of a job, buddy.”

  I’ve never made a deal with a Lost Boy before, certainly not a member of The Hive. I don’t know that it’s a smart thing to do. Saving Ryan has caused me a world of trouble. It’s a mistake I really shouldn’t repeat. It’ll be easier to sneak myself out alone than try to get Vin, Breanne and Nats out with me. As far as anyone knows, no one has ever escaped the Colonies before but maybe that’s not entirely true. Maybe people like me have. Loners who found a way and slipped back into the wild with no one to tell the tale to. No one to welcome us home. No one to care if we lived or died.

  “Joss!”

  “Yes!” I shout back, surprising myself. My eyes are evening out, becoming adjusted to the light. I can see Vin’s face now. He’s being hauled out by three guys but he’s staring straight at me, his eyes focused hard on mine.

  “Yeah, Vin.” I repeat calmly, slipping the shiv up into my sleeve as I step closer to his girls. “We have a deal.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I have no idea where we are other than beside the water. In front of us is a huge white building with faded blue trim. It looks like a warehouse that was once dressed up to serve a grander purpose. Kind of like a train station or library. It squats on the upper left corner of a large lot full of green space that is being used for planting. The even rows suggest fields, though any crop is far out of season at the moment. I shiver against the cold, missing my jacket and hating being this close to the water. It surrounds the lot on all sides but one; the south side where we entered. When I look back at it I can see a row of multicolored, weathered shipping containers stacked two high. The line of them runs from shore to shore. Most containers are lined up end to end except for two right in the middle. They’re running the opposite direction so that they can be opened and vehicles, like ours, are allowed to pass through. Now they stand locked up tight, an impassible barrier for zombies and Lost Boys. And us.

  They take Vin away immediately, leading him through a side door and out of sight. He goes quietly once I’ve made my promise, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. The tightness in his step. They’d be wise to keep an eye on him.

  Breanne, Nats and I are left standing out in the cold surrounded by three men on guard. I don’t know what month it is but judging by the briskness in the air, I’d say it’s almost December.

  Christmas time.

  The thought pisses me off almost more than being taken prisoner. Almost.

  “Can we go inside yet?” Nats asks a guard, glaring at him. “It’s kind of cold out here.”

  The guy with the gentle hands shakes his head apologetically. “We have to wait for the women to come get you. They’ll take you to the showers.”

  “Hot showers?” Breanne asks hopefully. She’s clinging to Nats’ arm the way she was clinging to Vin before and I find myself getting annoyed with her. It’d be brilliant if it was all an act, making herself look meek and afraid only to throw them off, but I’m pretty sure this is her 100%. I’m already regretting taking on the role of babysitter.

  “Hot showers.” gentle guy says with a small smile.

  “What then?” I ask, my voice hard. “What do you do with us then?”

  “Then we’ll get you something to eat.” He smiles at Breanne again. “Something hot. After that you’ll get a tour and you’ll be assigned a bed. Then we’ll help you get acclimated, start helping you find the right job.”

  “What if I don’t want a job?”

  His smile fades. “We all work. You’ll need to contribute to stay here.”

  “I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to contribute. So if you’ll just show me the door…”

  “You’ll learn.”

  “Learn what? To like prison? No thank you.”

  “This is for your own good.” another guy tells me, his eyes pitying. “You can’t survive out there alone. We’re here to save you.”

  I glare at him. “I’ve survived out there alone for the better part of a decade. I don’t need you or your protection.”

  He shakes his head sadly. “You’ll learn.”

  I’m certain I don’t want to know what they plan to teach me here.

  A door swings open on creaking hinges, drawing all of our stares. Three women come out one by one in a line, all of them perfectly clean and groomed. Their soft, shining hair catches the sunlight and a small breeze, rippling like silk. They all look to be about late 20s or early 30s and they’re all beautiful. I feel especially grimy just looking at them and I realize that with the chill in the air lately I haven’t risked a full washing in almost a month. It’s too cold to have wet hair this time of year.

  A blond walks up to us smiling brightly as she fakes a shiver. “Ooh, it’s cold out, isn’t it? Let’s make this quick! Ladies and—oh, I thought we had ourselves a gentleman as well?” she says, looking questioningly at the men guarding us.

  “He’s already been taken in.”

  She blinks once long and hard but her smile never fails. It’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen and, as you can imagine, I’ve seen some seriously creepy things in my day.

  “No matter. At any rate, ladies, welcome to the MOHAI!”

  We all stare at her blankly.

  “As you may not know,” she continues happily. “The MOHAI was, and some of us feel still is, the Seattle Museum of History and Industry. It’s a beautiful building with very exciting exhibits inside. Now, admittedly, we’ve taken a lot of them down and disposed of them due to space issues but there’s still some fun stuff to see.”

  I look sideways at Nats. I’m relieved to see my confusion mirrored on her face.

  What the hell is happening here?

  “Now,” says Tour Guide Barbie, turning serious. “We are
so excited to have you here and we can’t wait to show you just everything but first things first. We have to get you cleaned up. So, if you’ll follow me I’ll take you straight to the showers.”

  As she turns her back, I look her and the other women up and down, searching for weapons. The men who have been standing guard all have utility belts on with knives, sharp screwdrivers and either a hammer or a heavy wrench. One even looks like he might have a Taser, something I’ve been eyeing since we left the van.

  But the women appear to be defenseless. It has me thinking of the shiv in my pocket. As we follow them inside the door I notice how they break us up. They usher in Breanne, then one of them, then Nats, another of them, then the blond ushers me in ahead of her with that saccharine smile of hers. If I get a chance to cut anybody today, it’s going to be her.

  The inside is warm and dry. And lit! There are actual light bulbs in sockets hanging from the ceiling at regular intervals. We walk down a long, narrow hallway that expands into a big open room, one wall of which is lined with showerheads. It’s been stripped down to just cement walls and floors with a big drain in the middle and I wonder what it was before. Storage? A break room?

  “Alright.” the blond says, clapping her hands together sharply. The snap of skin against skin echoes through the large room sounding like a gunshot. “My name is Caroline. This is Melissa and Andrea. What we’re going to do is get you clean. All of you. Every last inch. You’ve been living in the wild for so long we have to take some precautions so this is going to be thorough. Please don’t be embarrassed, we’ve all gone through it.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?” Nats asks, stepping closer to Breanne.

  One of the other women, a brunette who I believe is Melissa, smiles at her reassuringly. “Nothing scary, don’t worry. We’re going to help you wash your hair with lice shampoo, use some exfoliating scrubs, use an antibacterial soap to eliminate… well.”

  “Bacteria?” I ask dryly.