The Hunt (The Wilds Book Two)

by Donna Augustine

  Becca was down closer to the other end. She wasn’t smirking, but it didn’t look like she minded what was happening either. Not a shock there. I hadn’t expected much from her. I knew she’d come to the decision that I was the reason she wasn’t with Dax, whether she had been the one to walk away or not.

  I straightened in my chair and placed the fork I was about to use down beside my plate. I didn’t need their crappy food anyway. I toyed with the idea of leaving right then, and not because I gave a shit but because I was that hungry. Except that would give the appearance that they’d run me off, so I sat and crossed my arms instead.

  I caught sight of Rocky and Dax heading back. They grabbed their spots, still talking between themselves as they settled down, fairly oblivious to me or anything amiss. I saw Becca trying to add herself into their conversation, and that didn’t bother me either.

  I was glad, hoping Dax would keep talking and eating until everyone’s plate was as empty as mine. He got really weird about me eating because of the magic, and I didn’t want a scene or him coming to my rescue over a stupid meal. I just wanted the night to be over. They’d nearly starved me in the Cement Giant. A few missed meals here and there weren’t a big deal.

  The talk at the table continued and I started to relax. I was a fast eater. Another few minutes and it would’ve been like I’d eaten anyway. I’d go back to the house or Fudge’s and find something to eat after Dax went to sleep, or more likely disappeared, and call it a night.

  This place and what these people thought of me didn’t matter. I wasn’t planning on staying anyway, and I certainly wasn’t looking for a new best friend or anything. I had friends, like Bookie. They could keep their walls and their food. Stupid idiots. When was the last time any of them had ever been more than a few miles beyond their own gate? This was what they wasted their time on? Ooh, let’s make the Plaguer feel unwanted? They’d have to do a lot better than eating all the food. Their meat was probably chewy anyway.

  I got sick of looking at their faces and turned my attention upward. The stars were out in force tonight, and I had a brilliant view of Orion, the Hunter. It was my favorite constellation.

  I’d memorized every star by name after we had a class on them. I used to stare at them from the small view in my cell. Now I didn’t have to look at small patches anymore. I could see every star in the sky all at once above my head, and I realized that it really didn’t matter what anyone thought about me.

  They didn’t get it, how lucky they’d been. The choices they had. It made me sad for them, because it didn’t really matter what you had if you were too stupid to realize it. They could have the world but they locked themselves away, expecting the few strong ones in this place to protect them. They had no idea what life had to offer, what it felt like to test yourself against someone else and come out the winner. Own your own path.

  I noticed the talking at the table started to die down as I watched the stars, and I figured dinner was finally about to wrap up. I’d leave here and walk under the night stars, knowing that I was the lucky one. I knew the value of this life I was living. They obviously didn’t, or they wouldn’t care about such petty things.

  I looked down and realized most of them weren’t even half done. It had probably grown quiet because they’d run out of interesting things to talk about since they lived their lives behind these walls. I wouldn’t leave, but damn I was hungry.

  I was resigned to wait this out when I realized what was really causing the halt in chatter. I looked down toward where Dax and Rocky were sitting, just to gauge how much food they had left, and saw Rocky’s lips were pressed into a line, an angry, mean-looking one.

  That was nothing compared to Dax, who looked about to blow. What was his problem? He was shooting daggers and spreading them out liberally. He couldn’t be that pissed about the food, could he? No. He wouldn’t get that mad over something so stupid. I knew he liked me to eat, keep the magic strong and all, but that wouldn’t piss him off that bad.

  I watched him pick up his drink and plate and walk toward me, and started to wonder if he was angry with me. Did I screw something up without realizing? Nah, how could I have since we’d walked over here together? I hadn’t even talked since I’d been here.

  Dax paused behind the guy to my right, who’d had his back to me the entire time. “Get up and take your shit with you.”

  The guy didn’t hesitate, and stood quickly, taking his plate and drink with him. Talk about magic—he managed to do this without looking directly at Dax once. Dax sat down in his place, his presence hitting the crowd on this end of the table like an earthquake.

  “My drink tastes funny. You drink it,” he said, and then placed his in front of me.

  I looked at the glass and realized he had some sort of ale. I’d really wanted tea. Even whiskey would’ve been better.

  “Drink it,” he said while I was still debating.

  I wasn’t a fan of ale, but if he felt that strongly about it… I grabbed the glass and took a sip.

  He dug his fork into the small pile of potatoes that were on my plate. I caught the eyes around the table watching him, as if waiting for him to drop dead from the Bloody Death at any moment. But that wasn’t to be the end of the show.

  A young, attractive guy in his twenties was the only one who seemed to have the nerve to say anything. “Aren’t you—”

  Whatever was going to follow that would be a mystery, as Dax leaned forward, glacier firmly in place and freezing the hell out of anyone not on the right side of it.

  “Aren’t I what?”

  “Nothing.” The guy went back to minding his own business, but Dax didn’t stop staring at him until he got up and excused himself from the meal with some lame excuse about not feeling well.

  Suddenly the steak trencher had meat on it again, and my plate was being piled up higher than what I’d be able to eat, and I was no slouch.

  I looked down at what I considered their food, stabbed my fork into a nice piece of red meat, and had trouble bringing it to my mouth. Did I really want to eat anything they provided? If I didn’t eat it, I’d still be hungry. Being hungry sucked. Why should I let these people ruin my meal? I took a nice bite.

  Turned out that the steak wasn’t even a little chewy. People started eating again. No one said a word, and their eyes didn’t linger too long either, or they caught such a stare-down that they didn’t look again.

  By the time dinner was done, I wasn’t sure if Dax had eaten more off my plate or his as he reinforced his message. I didn’t know if they took his meaning, or, more accurately, his warning, but I didn’t care either way. I’d do my time here standing on my head. These people weren’t nearly as tough as they imagined they were.

  In true form, I finished the abundance of food quickly. Dax stood, his plate still partially full, as soon as I was done. We both thanked Rocky for the meal, and then I turned my back on the rest of them. Dax lingered a moment behind before catching up to me.

  * * *

  We were walking back to the house and the words thank you kept spinning around in my brain but didn’t want to migrate down to my mouth. Dax deserved a thank you. I hadn’t needed him to do what he’d done, hadn’t even wanted him to, but it had been a decent thing to do. He’d had my back, and it had felt good when he did. I should say thank you.

  So why couldn’t I just say the two words? Why did I feel so weird about the whole thing? Maybe I should just leave the subject alone, but then I’d be rude, and Margo said rude was a pretty bad thing to be. Even Moobie didn’t like rude people. And yes, he was imaginary, but the writer of Moobie must have obviously felt that way too if he wrote it, and he was brilliant, evidenced by such fantastic stories, right? So it needed to be said, but I was about as good at thanking someone as Dax was at giving apologies.

  And there was the house looming ahead and getting closer by the second. I was running out of time. If I didn’t say it tonight, it would be more awkward to say it tomorrow. I had to just get it
out and put it behind me.

  “Thanks for… Well, you know. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Do what?” he asked.

  Really? Questions? Weren’t people supposed to just take a thank you and leave it alone? I definitely didn’t want to drag this out. “You know, back there. Making it obvious you weren’t afraid of catching anything from me.”

  “I didn’t do anything much.”

  Was this conversation ever going to end? Was I going to have to beg him to accept my thank you? All I wanted to do was get it out and be done with the business.

  “Yes, you did.”

  It was like the moment I convinced myself he was a complete jerk, he did something like he did at dinner. It was getting to be that I didn’t know who he was anymore. There was the Dax that didn’t want to come near me, called me sludge and insulted me, treated me like I was an idiot. Then there was this Dax, the one who came to my aid when it seemed like everyone wanted me gone. The one who made it clear no one could treat me like that and get away with it. The one who looked out for me and teased me. The one that didn’t have a glacier built up around him.

  I just wished he would make up his mind and become the other Dax for good so that my own feelings would stop yo-yoing back and forth, because I couldn’t dislike this Dax, the one that had been with me tonight. I’d never be able to hate this one.

  I wanted to hate him. I wanted to feel anything other than what I was feeling right now, and that was this strong urge for him to stop walking, take me in his arms, and tell me that I was the woman he wanted. That he’d look at me again like he’d done that afternoon before I’d decided to stay and told me that I could be someone special. I also wouldn’t mind if he tried out a little bit of what I’d read in chapter ten of the half-naked man book, especially the page I’d dog-eared.

  All of these whimsical thoughts were forgotten with his next question.

  “Why didn’t you say something to me? Why did you sit there?” Dax asked. These weren’t nice questions, but something closer to accusations, and I realized that his words before had had a similar tone.

  “Because I had it handled.”

  “By not eating.”

  “I know you want me to eat regularly because of the magic, but one meal wasn’t going to kill me.” I’d thanked him. How was this turning into a fight? If I could only find that Dax manual somewhere, maybe this would make sense.

  “You should’ve said something.”

  “I had it handled. I appreciate the help, but I’m not looking to have someone fight my battles for me. I can handle things on my own.”

  “You didn’t have it handled. You sat there and didn’t eat.”

  He sounded like they’d done it to him. “I—”

  “You should’ve said something to me.”

  “We’re barely friends most the time. Why would I go running to you? Why are you all bent out of whack over this? Dax, I’ve dealt with a lot worse,” I said, and started laughing at the pettiness of the whole thing.

  “I’m aware.”

  The logic of what I’d just said didn’t seem to be hitting home with him or taking the edge off his anger. The more I said, the worse it seemed to be getting.

  What was going on here? “So now you’re mad at me?”

  “Yes. Don’t ever let someone treat you like that. Ever.” He left me standing on the lawn in front of the house, utterly confused, while he walked off.

  “What about when it’s you who’s treating me like shit? Huh? Any ideas on that?” I hollered after him, not caring that I could see curtains being pulled back by busybodies.

  Dax didn’t answer or acknowledge he’d heard me. Like to hear how he thought I should handle that one.

  I went and sat on one of the two chairs on the front porch. The longer I lived, the more I realized I might not be the craziest person here. I might actually be the sanest one around.

  Chapter 19

  Rocky strode up to me where I was still sitting an hour later, curled up in one of the chairs that sat on the stoop.

  He stopped, leaned a hip against the railing that held up the small covering over the door, and stuck his hand in his pocket. His eyes landed on me and stayed there. I didn’t shift or squirm. He could stare all he wanted. No skin off my back.

  “You handled yourself well tonight,” he said.

  It wasn’t what I’d expected him to say. I wasn’t sure what I’d done so well. I’d ignored everyone. That didn’t usually breed compliments. “Thanks.”

  “I guess you’re used to that kind of thing.”

  “I guess I am.”

  “You’re a lot tougher than you look.” He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest as he kept staring at me. “I’d heard that but I didn’t quite believe it.”

  “I have my moments.” There was something strange in the way Rocky was looking at me, like he found me interesting all of a sudden. I wasn’t sure if I was flattered or annoyed that he might’ve been a little less than impressed before.

  “I bet you do.”

  Okay, I was definitely missing something now. Why was he smiling at me like that? Did he want to… Nah, nobody wanted me like that. Why would this guy who had his pick of a town full of women? He was too good looking and had his shit together. I’d seen how women in the Wilds fell all over tough guys. It was an embarrassment to the sex.

  Dax was walking back to the house before I could nail down Rocky’s actual intent, but his posture straightened and he lost that curious look.

  “Go grab your jacket,” Dax said as he came to stand between the two of us.

  “For what?”

  “To scope out the Skinners tonight.”

  Hmmm, so that was what the pre-dinner chat was about. Nice how he told me these things ahead of time. What if I’d been out? I held back a laugh. Where the hell was I going?

  “I’ll be right back.” I went inside and grabbed my jacket while I thought over the only reason Dax would include me in these plans. He thought the Dark Walkers had something to do with the Skinners.

  I already had the knife in my boot, and I grabbed the one for my hip as well. Never knew when you’d lose one in an eye socket and need a spare.

  By the time I walked back out, Tank was there as well, and I caught the tail end of the conversation.

  “How long ago did you see them leave?” Dax asked.

  “Twenty minutes? The others are still in place watching.” Tank looked over at me. “You’re coming?”

  Dax answered for me. “She’s coming.”

  Yep, this was about the Dark Walkers.

  As I stood among badasses of varying degrees, I knew this was the crowd I wanted to be a part of, where I wanted to fit. This was where I belonged.

  I hopped on the bike behind Dax and we all headed out.

  We hadn’t ridden very long before we were slowing down. We got off the bikes and the three guys started covering them with branches.

  “They’re this close?” I asked, knowing we’d only been riding for an hour. Even at the breakneck speed we’d ridden, the proximity seemed a little too close. The idea of having a tribe of people who skinned other people on a regular basis so nearby seemed very unsettling. I guessed it was no skin off their back—not yet, anyway.

  “I was here first and I don’t care to move,” Rocky said, and that toughness I’d sensed when I first met him was practically oozing from him now.

  Dax, Rocky, Tank, and I left the bikes and approached the camp on foot, but I found out quickly that we weren’t going to get as close as I thought. We made our way to some bushes that grew right before a several-hundred-foot drop.

  The fortress, and that was the most apt name I could think of for the monstrosity a few miles in the distance, was walled off with metal plates. There was nothing to soften its appearance, either. It stood alone in the landscape—no trees, no large boulders, nothing that would shield us in an approach. They must have had to clear that land every day to keep on top of it. The newly discovere
d gardener in me couldn’t help but be impressed.

  The rest of me was a bit worried. Even with the small amount of tactical experience I possessed, I knew that if I ended up inside that place, a rescue was going to be tough, if not impossible.

  We’d traveled specifically to look at the Skinners’ compound. We had stopped our bikes and traveled on foot the last mile and now squatted, peering down at the fortress. “They” said there were no stupid questions. I was pretty sure I was about to prove “they” wrong.

  “This is the Skinners’ home?” I asked, hoping one of them would say no. That this wasn’t it. That this plan of mine to do a swap and get saved later wouldn’t land me in dire straits.

  Dax looked at me and replied, “No, it’s the next enormous compound five miles down the road.”

  I decided I liked “they” better than Dax at the moment. “They say there are no stupid questions.”

  “I think you just proved ‘they’ wrong.”

  Man, times like this it was like we were the same friggin’ person. How could that be?

  “What was this place before?” I asked, seeing the remnants of the Glory Years construction underneath the facade the Skinners had built.

  “It was a secret government facility,” Rocky said.

  I didn’t say holy cow, this was going to be ugly, but I was certainly thinking it. It was actually quite quiet all around, which made me wonder if I wasn’t the only one singing that tune in their brain.

  Rocky dug out a pair of binoculars. “It looks just as well kept up as always. I don’t know who they’re doing their trading with, but they’ve kept it well maintained. It’s hard to come by the metal they use, and some of those wall panels are definitely newer. Definitely lends credibility to the rumors.”

  “What rumors?” I asked, wondering if this was where I came in.

  Dax took the binoculars from Rocky as he answered, “That the Skinners have worked for or with the Dark Walkers for years.”

  What would the Dark Walkers need with Skinners? Then again, what would they need from me? “Any reason to believe they’re true?”