“What happened?” she asked.
Rowan opened his mouth, but couldn’t find the words. Mia was shocked when she realized he was crying. She felt punched in the stomach. She knew what happened without ever hearing his explanation. She wanted to comfort him; she wanted to say something, but the sound of her father’s voice tore through her thoughts.
“That will be enough.”
A number of the onlookers quickly scurried off, most of them bowing at the members of the council as they went about their business. Several of the rooftops of the surrounding buildings sprang to life as news of Rowan’s return spread like wildfire. Mia knew she had no business listening in on the coming conversation, but she fought the will to be shooed away.
“What is this all about?” Arkin asked, looking past Rowan with little regard. “Where is Darian?”
“We…we got surrounded,” Rowan tried to explain. “Darian…there were too many of them and…”
Arkin shoved Rowan aside and peered over the edge of the building. He rose back up with a bewildered gaze. “You left him.” Half a dozen of the council members had joined Arkin at the roof’s edge and a number of them echoed his accusation. “You abandoned him like the coward you are.”
Rowan stood frozen as the older man rushed toward him. The sunlight reflected off Arkin’s cleanly shaven head and revealed the loathing fury in his eyes. Arkin pushed aside the ceremonial robes wrapped around his chest and grabbed Rowan by the throat with both hands. Mia lunged forward and tried to wedge herself between them.
“No Father, please,” she shouted.
Several of the council members pulled at her while the others tried to hold her father back. Rowan fell to the ground as they were wrenched apart and he smacked his head on the rooftop. Arkin stood over him as he tried to get up, yelling at the top of his lungs. Mia wrapped her arms around her father’s leg as a wave of figures rushed toward the fray. Rowan tried to raise his head and a moment later, he was out.
♦
A relentless pounding from Rowan’s temples highlighted a constant wave of pain. He knew he was lying down on his back, but he wasn’t sure what had happened. His eyelids fluttered then parted and the darkness remained. He tried to move his hands and found he could not. Reality slowly filtered in and the pounding in his head grew worse. His throat was dry and he wasn’t sure he could speak if he wanted to. He took one long breath and then tried to sit up. He regretted it immediately. Two things became apparent; he was pretty sure his head was going to split open and he was chained to the floor by his wrist.
Rowan’s eyes adjusted to the dark and he focused in on a small slit in the covering on the far side of the dwelling. The pale light told him it was after dark and the bindings told him his fate was yet to be decided. He knew Arkin never wanted him as a husband for his daughter and he’d guessed many times that Darian would be chosen for Mia. Mia’s devotion to the lesser cousin was the only thing that kept her father at bay.
Arkin’s resentment for the boy began as an act of heroism. The attack that ultimately took the lives of Rowan’s parents also set his future in stone. Arkin made a decision to save Rowan on that faithful night and it cost him his wife. That choice created a deep-rooted animosity that revealed itself every time he looked at Rowan.
The sound of distant conversation pierced the hide covering. Rowan tried to make out the words, but he couldn’t. He could guess what the council was debating, but he was too frightened to consider it. His thoughts drifted to Darian and a sudden wave of emotion rushed over him.
The agony of his situation engulfed him and it was all he could do to keep from howling at the top of his lungs. His heart opened up as the memories of his cousin swept through his mind. He wept like never before, aching with each passing moment. He laid in painful silence as he tried to regain control of himself. The sound of someone else’s hushed words pulled his attention away from his thoughts.
“Who’s there?”
There was a deep breath followed by a series of movements somewhere behind the dwelling. Rowan studied the stretched hide that covered the top of the structure until a small slit produce a familiar face. Mia’s eyes were burning red and the darkness couldn’t hide her pain. She took a hesitant glance at something out in front of the dwelling before pulling the cover back far enough to slide in and drop down.
“Your father’s going to kill you,” Rowan whispered.
“You should talk.”
She grabbed him and pulled him close. The two kissed more passionately than either of their years could account for. She finally let him go and Rowan sat back, out of breath.
“I was worried about you,” Mia admitted.
“I need to get you worried more often.”
“That’s not funny,” she said. “The entire council is discussing what to do with you.”
“The chains kind of gave that away,” Rowan said, pulling on his binds. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Mia’s eyes went to the floor. She couldn’t bear to look up at him as she spoke.
“What happened to Darian?”
Rowan’s throat dried up all at once. He tried to say something, but nothing came out. His heart thumped in his chest. A vision of Darian pulled into the abandon building’s doorway flashed through his mind.
“We went to the edge of the outlands,” he continued before she could tell him how foolish they were, “there were so many of them.” He struggled with the words. “It was like an army of the infected moving toward the city.” He pressed his hand against her chin and raised her head. “We got trapped.”
A single tear streamed down her cheek when her eyes met his.
“I have to tell them,” Rowan said. He tried to stand up and was left hunched over when the chains didn’t come up with him. “We have to do something.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. “You’ll be lucky if they just banish you.” She cried harder the moment the word banish left her lips.
Rowan looked over at the slit in the covering and whispered,
“Banish.”
Mia stood up and searched for something on a small table across the room.
“We have to get out of here.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Rowan insisted.
Mia spun around and snapped at him much louder than she intended.
“It doesn’t matter.”
The two stood still, staring at each other, their senses painfully aware that her shout was loud enough to hear from the outside.
“You have to go,” Rowan said. “They can’t find you here.” The sound of trampling feet echoed into the dwelling as a wind shook the flap of hide over the entrance. “I have to show them,” he said. “The council has to know what Darian and I saw.”
Mia’s eyes went to the entrance and then back to him. He could see the struggle on her face as she fought the urge to run.
“Go,” he said, “go now.”
She crossed the room and took a hold of his face with both hands.
“I won’t let you go,” she said and then kissed him.
The stomping feet reached the entrance and he pushed her away.
“I know.”
Mia took one last look at him and then leapt up to the slit in the roof and lifted herself out. Rowan watched her feet disappear a moment before the hide over the entrance was swept aside and several figures pushed in. Arkin was standing directly in front of him before Rowan realized it. A pair of council members unchained Rowan and pulled him out into the open.
Most of the council was gathered. They sat on platforms several feet off the top of the building, facing in on one another in a semicircle. Tall flames lit the gathering from a pit in the center of the platforms. Rowan was lifted up the stairs to an empty dais and left to stand on his own as Arkin and the others retook their seats.
Sporadic conversations ended as all eyes focused on the lone layman among them. The ages within the council ranged widely. Those chosen to take the test during the last planting season were only a few ye
ars older than Rowan. He locked eyes with Darian’s father, his uncle Deleak. The large man’s sizable girth was left exposed with only his leather britches covering him. Deleak stared at Rowan and the agony in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
“We all know why we are here,” Arkin said. “You, Rowan, have been accused.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Rowan declared. He ground his teeth and a sudden inspiration came to him. He knew tribal law as well as anyone in the council. “You have to give me an opportunity to defend myself.” He drove the point. “It is my right.”
Rowan was in no position to make demands. He had no family. He was alone. There was no one on the council to protect him, no one to stand in his defense but himself.
“What have you to say?” Chief Orin was the oldest member of the tribe. “You may speak in your defense,” he said and the entire council fell silent. Chief Orin stood up from his seat directly across from the accused. His rail thin body was covered in a heavy fur, which he held at his neck. “Tell us what you saw.”
“The infected are gathering,” Rowan said, looking over the crowd as every pair of eyes locked on to his. “It was an army, like the stories of the old world.”
“You know nothing of the old world,” Arkin interrupted.
“Silence,” Chief Orin said in a tone that matched the aggravation on his face. “Let him speak.”
Rowan took a deep breath and slowly let it out. The entire council focused squarely on him. He had to choose his terms carefully. If the infected were truly gathering then the fate of the entire tribe would depend on his every word.
3
Rowan wasn’t sure if he’d convinced the entire council, but he’d done enough to persuade Chief Orin to send out a hunting party. Rowan was hopeful they’d see sufficient proof and stop his inevitable banishment. More important, he hoped they’d see enough to convince them to do something that might save them all.
An early morning light crept between the buildings as Rowan reached the street. He hadn’t been able to sleep, stuck in his makeshift prison, waiting for his chance to prove his innocence. No one in the hunting party spoke, starting forward by the silent command of hand signals. They reached the far side of the road before a series of calls rang out from the rear of the group, bringing the hunting party to a stop.
Long shadows covered the streets, leaving Rowan unable to identify the caller. He was shocked to see Arkin step out into the light. Arkin rested a hand on the hilt of the katana sword sheathed at his waist. Rowan had always been mesmerized by the sight of the weapon, his imagination running wild with what Arkin was capable of doing with the blade. The elder council member eyed Rowan coldly and then motioned for the group to move ahead. They started off again before Rowan had time to consider why Arkin had joined them.
The party split twice before they reached the coliseum, the great crumbling structure once used by the old world for games of strength and skill. Rowan was left with two others in his party, moving through the shadows of the tallest buildings of the city. There was a great distance to cross before reaching the far edge of Cheyenne. There was a good chance they would see mid-day before they returned home.
The group stopped for a moment of rest and water. Rowan stood near a line of automobiles, most of which were covered by the overgrown grass and weeds reaching up from the cracks in the road. He was focused on the next street over. He’d seen movement along the adjacent sidewalk and the quickness told him that it wasn’t one of the dead. Only the infected could move with such speed.
The rest of the party headed north, but Rowan held still. He stayed focused on the parallel road. A single figure stepped out from behind the corner of a building for a brief moment and then pulled back. Rowan raised his bow and notched an arrow. He thought to call out an alarm to warn the others, but he wanted to be sure.
Several long strides brought him across the street. He slid along the front wall of the building toward the main entrance, the tip of his arrow holding steady on the other end of the structure. He pulled the bowstring until it was perfectly tight. A slight movement revealed a face beyond the shadows and only a last second recognition kept him from releasing the projectile.
“Mia?” He called out the name, unable to believe his eyes. “Is that you?” he whispered.
There was a long silence before a slender frame pulled away from the building. Mia looked up at Rowan like a scared child. He scanned the road behind him to make sure no one else could see them. A second figure had joined Mia by the time he looked back.
“Sorry,” was all she could muster in her defense, “he wouldn’t let me leave without him.”
Rowan came to a panic-stricken stop. He glared at the wide and fearful eyes of Mia’s younger brother, Jonah.
“You can’t be serious,” Rowan said. “Like, I’m not in enough trouble.” Mia didn’t appear to have an acceptable justification. “You have to get out of here.”
“You’re not my husband, yet,” Mia said.
Rowan rolled his eyes. “And chances are that I never will be.” His comment hit her harder than he intended. She growled at him in defiance. “Your father’s going to kill you,” he shook his head, “right after he kills me.”
Jonah rushed toward him and Rowan was forced to slide his bow over his shoulder. He knelt down and the boy wrapped his arms around him. Jonah was only ten years old, but he was as solid as an oak tree. Mia was more like the boy’s mother than his sister.
“She said you were going away.”
Rowan looked up at Mia and held on to a fake smile. “Looks like my banishment is becoming an accepted fact.” He didn’t wait for a response, focusing on Jonah. “I’m not going anywhere.” He wasn’t sure he believed that. “Take your sister’s hand.”
Rowan’s nervous hesitation showed in a constant need to look over his shoulder. He didn’t want the hunting party to see his newfound followers, but he had to let them know he was on the move.
“You’re going to follow that road,” he said to Mia and motioned at the street adjacent to the building, “while I follow the rest of my hunting party. I’ll wait for you at every crossing, and then we’ll move forward together.” He looked at the top of the building across the street. The structures at the edge of the city were shorter, most of them three stories or less. “They’ll want to go up for a look to see beyond the boundary.” He tapped his hand nervously on the end of his bow. “I don’t want to leave you down here by yourself.”
“We’ll stay back,” Mia said. “We’ll wait for you to come down once we get that far and we’ll go back together.”
Rowan couldn’t get past the lunacy of her decision to follow him.
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“I wanted to make sure the party wasn’t going to take you out and—”
Rowan held his hands up. “All right, I get it.” He was shocked by her thought. He’d never imagined that the council might have sent him out, in part, to make sure he never made it back. “I’m going to show them that I was telling the truth.”
Mia nodded silently.
Rowan gave Jonah a playful shove then sprinted back across the street. It took him a while to catch up with the others from his group. He had to slow down at every cross street and wait until Mia and Jonah showed themselves before he could continue. Rowan found himself right on top of the others before he realized it.
“Where have you been?”
He acknowledged Garret with a nod, but nothing more. Garret was a few seasons older than him and they did not know each other well. Barrick was an older man. He’d known Rowan’s father and he’d always been kind. The trio was an odd pairing and Rowan could only guess Arkin had matched him up with Garret to keep an eye on him.
Mia’s concerns darted back and forth in his mind. He slid an eye toward Barrick while the older hunter drank from his waterskin. Could they actually do it? he asked himself. If the plan were to get rid of him, would these two be the ones to handle the task? He shook h
is head, no, to the silent question. He had to believe Chief Orin was giving him the chance to prove himself and validate what he saw.
They were off again with no words between them. Rowan kept his bow ready with an arrow notched to fly. It took him several anxious moments to find Mia at the next crossing and his lingering drew the ire of Garret. He made it obvious that he had no interest in being on the hunt and wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible.
The size of the buildings gave a hint at the distance the hunters had traveled. The shorter structures acted as a signal that the vast clearing between the ruins and the forests the infected claimed as their own awaited on the other side. The sun was hidden behind a wall of thick, billowing clouds. Brief moments of light served as a reminder to Rowan of how long he’d gone without sleep. The burning in his eyes told him his senses would soon be worthless.
The history of the Cheyenne Tribe spoke of a time when the infected could not venture out into the light of day. The vile creatures had evolved over generations, toughening their skin and even learning to communicate with one another. They gathered in the early days, nearly wiping out humanity in one fell swoop. They’d become far more sophisticated than the lowly, bloodthirsty assailants they once were.
“Up.”
The one word command caused Rowan to shake. His senses were failing as exhaustion took hold. He studied the scene ahead and understood what Garret meant to do. They were near the clearing and the true danger of their search was at hand. The buildings closest to the boundary were the most treacherous. The dead had a way of trapping carless wanderers in the darkness. Rowan’s mind was on something else. The vision of the infected mass rushing into the city prominently played over and over in his head.
Garret and Barrick disappeared in through a busted doorway before he could react. His concern for the hidden, trailing party kept him from following. Mia waved at him from a block away, letting him know they were safe. Rowan caught sight of Jonah’s cautious smile before dashing in after Garret.
Light from the cloud-covered sky did little to break the darkness within the long dead building. A series of shifting steps focused his mind and Rowan slipped his bow over his shoulder and pulled his knife free in one fluid movement. A familiar birdcall helped him locate the others and he rushed up a flight of stairs to find them waiting on him.
Tribes Of Decay (The Decaying World Saga Book 1) Page 2
