“Plus, they might not just hit you, Mandy,” I point out. “You could get killed. I won’t risk you like that.”
Amanda blows out a breath that flutters her hair. “Am I the only one here with any ideas, then?”
None of us answer. Alexander has his arms folded. His lowered lashes form dark shadows over his cheeks. Stillness grips him as though he’s captured deep in thought.
Footsteps thump on the stage. All four of us tense, but it’s only Conrad who appears. His coppery hair is in disarray, his face pale. “Kat!”
“Conrad,” I say, surprised.
He grins. “We’re seeing each other again.”
There goes my excuse for breaking up with him without outright dumping him. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
Suddenly he’s at my side, his arm around me. I can’t help looking at Alexander, wondering how he’ll react to this. He looks neutral. As always.
“I heard you were back,” Conrad says. “What happened, Kat?”
I shake my head. “Long story.”
“Look,” he says quickly, “I was just outside. A lot of the hunters are clearing out. You should make a break for it now.”
Noelle, Alexander and I look at each other, our eyes wide. We know what that means. It’s not good news.
Amanda realizes it, too. “Wait, does that mean—”
Then it reaches us. We hear it, even back here. Someone has a loudspeaker and it amplifies a hair-raising, bloodcurdling howl, a person imitating a wolf.
It’s a warning. It’s a taunt.
Death’s Disciples have arrived. Along with their leader, Trent ‘the Wolfman’ Savage.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Amanda’s idea of a setup begins to look better and better. As the other guilds clear out, our opportunity to try begins to trickles away. I can’t stand waiting anymore.
“Okay. Now or never. Let’s do Amanda’s plan,” I announce, sweeping to my feet.
Everyone looks at me like I’m insane. My heart is a drumbeat in my chest. But I’m ready. I’m ready now and never will be again.
“Wait, wait,” Amanda says. “My plan has flaws. Like the whole switching outfits thing. That was stupid.”
“But your plan is the only plan we have, right?” I say, my words coming out faster and faster, tumbling over each other through my lips. “Let’s do it. We can just try. Um, though, the clothes thing is kind of dumb, no offense. So how about I just… I just go out there, and the hunters will fight each other over me, and maybe I can get away while they fight each other? Or something? I mean, what do we have to lose?”
“Your life,” Amanda points out.
“I’m dead in a few hours anyway, Mandy!”
Alexander rises to his feet. “Okay.”
I swing my head towards him. I hadn’t expected him to agree.
“I think we need to do the plan. But with a few modifications. First of all,” he points at me, “don’t even think about crossing that fence.”
“How does the plan work if I don’t?” I’m desperate to know. Hopeful. I really don’t want to just jump into the midst of the people who want me dead. Or to send Amanda out to them in my clothes.
“You simply go up to them, stay on school property, well out of arm’s reach, and talk. Strike a bargain. A loud bargain with the local hunters, whoever’s left. Make sure Death’s Disciples hear you. You offer the other hunters your bounty in exchange for, say, choosing how you die.”
“Great,” I say faintly.
“You won’t follow through on it. The point is to be heard. If Death’s Disciples see the bounty slipping out of their reach, maybe they’ll try to intimidate the locals. And you,” he looks at Amanda, “keep filming. If they resort to anything physical, we’ve got them. That’s our leverage to force them to leave.”
“And if they don’t?” Conrad says, frowning, his arms folded over his broad chest.
Alexander swings around as though he’s just noticed him for the first time. “Then we’re in the exact same situation we are now.”
“Sounds like a plan,” I whisper.
“Even if it works, what about the local hunters?” Conrad’s eyeing Alexander distrustfully, not sure what to make of this anathema taking charge of my survival plan. “They’re still there, man.”
“You said yourself, most are leaving,” Alexander says, raising his slanted black eyebrows. “That means we’ve got far fewer of them to deal with. I’ll face them any day over Death’s Disciples.”
“So you’ll face them, then. You’re not just trotting out my girlfriend like a sacrificial lamb to take the heat off you,” Conrad says.
“Of course not,” Alexander says, his blue eyes deathly calm, fixed unblinkingly on Conrad’s.
The calmer he gets, the more agitated Conrad seems to grow. His voice rises. “There’s no ‘of course’ about this to me, buddy. I don’t even know you. Last I heard, you were threatening her in class, and now you’re helping her?” He whirls around to appeal to me, to Amanda. “Why is this guy making the decisions like he’s in charge of something?”
I lay a hand on his bicep. “Conrad…”
“No, Kat. You’ve gotta worry about yourself—”
“Conrad!” I snap, losing patience, my hand dropping from his arm. “Alexander had my back when you were busy making out with Siobhan. I trust him. I know you have a bad history, but you need to trust him now, too. If you don’t…”
He looks at me. “If I don’t, then what?”
“If you don’t, then you can leave,” I say softly but firmly.
He looks stricken like I’ve slapped him. I turn away from him. Amanda is looking carefully back and forth between Alexander and Conrad, her eyes slightly narrowed. Her gaze settles on me like she’s figuring something out. Noelle just wears a strange smile, watching me. For his part, Alexanders spears me with an unreadable look. I wish he showed more emotion so I could figure out if he’s pleased I sided with him, or what he’s feeling. He’s perfectly controlled. He’s always in control.
My gaze sweeps one last time over the people around me. My friends. I have to trust that they’ll have my back. The rest is up to fate.
Resolve fills me. I want this over with before my courage deserts me.
“Let’s do this.”
My legs feel numb and mechanical beneath me like they’re not really attached. It’s right between fourth and fifth period now, so students are flowing through the hallway. Their usual scrutiny is on me. They part for me.
I barely even see Russell through the haze in my brain when he saunters up to me, sneering, and says, “They know you’re in here, in case you were wondering. I made sure to go out and tell them everything. Oh, and tell my psycho ex that I’m not actually touching you.”
I ignore him and brush straight past him, heading for the lobby door. Amanda is following behind me. I hear her voice lash out, ordering Russell away. I hear them argue and exchange a volley of hasty threats.
I step out into the overcast day, my gaze reaching beyond the parking lot, to the hunters beyond the fence. Most are already in retreat, like Conrad said. I no longer see the bankers, or the Shelter Valley people in orange. The Puritans are clustered in a corner, praying. The Project Hope people look ready to retreat, too.
They’re all afraid of the newcomers.
Their bikes and trucks are parked across the street. They’re unpacking their gear, their chainsaws, their knives, their body armor. Death’s Disciples are clad in leather and chain mail.
They’ve seen me.
Binoculars flash in the sunlight. Gloved fingers point my way. Raucous shouts rise from them. Fear prickles all over my skin. I look backwards instinctively, and see Amanda behind me with her cell phone, already filming. She nods at me. I look beyond her, and see Alexander just inside the dimness of the lobby. He looks like he wants to come out. It would be a terrible idea, reminding the hunters there are three anathemas here, not just one. To keep him inside, I straighten up and shoot him a con
fident smile, then turn back around.
Footsteps scuff up behind me as I walk towards the fence.
“You like him,” Amanda accuses me.
“So what if I do?” Heat steals into my cheeks. Even now. “He’s an anathema. I’m an anathema. It’s not like I’m doing something taboo anymore.” And that never should have stopped me before. It shouldn’t have stopped me the first day he walked into this school. I should have smiled at him. I should have said hello. I should have been his friend. I shouldn’t have turned away and held my breath until he walked past me. If I hadn’t feared him for what he was, maybe everything would have been different.
Maybe he wouldn’t have been so alone.
My heart aches in my chest at the thought. I walk faster, hoping to look more confident.
“He’s okay,” Amanda says reluctantly.
“Really?” I look at her, surprised to get her seal of approval after all this time.
She smirks and rolls her eyes. “He’s gorgeous yet I have no attraction to him. That’s always a sign you’re dealing with a genuinely good person.”
I laugh, and shove her. She grins at me, too, and it’s so nice to have this moment right now. Because I can hear what Death’s Disciples are shouting.
“Come a little closer!”
“Get over here, little girl! We want to talk to you.”
“Oh, she’s eager for it.”
A shudder grips me. My eyes lock with Amanda’s dark ones. She’s always been my source of strength, whether I’ve wanted to admit it or not. She’s the person to have by my side right now.
She raises her phone. “Filming.”
I nod.
“And I’m right behind you. No matter what.” Her eyes hold mine.
My smile grows genuine. “I know.”
Then I continue on my solitary path to face Death’s Disciples.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The fence draws closer and closer. Now I can see the chainsaws gleaming in the sunlight. Useless weapons, Alexander told me. They’re intimidating, and they’ll definitely kill, but they’re heavy and clumsy. I catch sight of a studded whip. Don’t underestimate those, he told me. They’re blunt force instruments that can break bones, not just slash your skin. They can’t be used through the fence. No projectiles can be used, either. But I stop carefully five feet away, and just look at my would-be murderers.
They’re a range of ages. Some, like the small, rat-like guy with delicate features that seem to melt into each other, look to be early twenties, at most. The rat guy holds a strip of piano wire, and licks his lips, watching me avidly. Other Disciples are middle aged, like the scarred man with the leathery face, long hair and almost feminine gold earrings on. It makes an odd contrast to the chainsaw in his hand, the muscles bulging over his bare arms. There’s a beautiful blonde with long legs exposed beneath her skirt, watching me with her head tilted to the side like a hungry cat. I can’t be sure, but I think there’s a dagger tucked into her belt.
And striding forward to stand at the front of them is the handsome man in his late thirties. He has broad shoulders, symmetrical features, a square jaw and a smile that reveals perfect orthodontia. His brown hair looks to have been cut recently, short at the sides, gelled at the top. His trademark scar slashes through his left eyebrow. Apart from that one flaw, he could be a politician or a middle-aged celebrity in a magazine, but today he’s leading a pack of serial killers in a quest to destroy me.
“Hello there, little lady.” He grabs the fence, leans onto it. “We don’t get many anathemas asking for autographs, so I’m guessing you’re here to beg for your life. Why don’t you come a little closer so we can talk?”
“You’re Wolfman Savage.” My voice sounds hoarse.
“In the flesh,” he agrees, his green eyes gleaming with pride. “And you’re Kathryn Grant. You don’t look like a mass murderer.”
Because I’m not. I almost say it, but then I don’t. I stare at Wolfman Savage, remembering him howling with blood on his lips, some poor man’s heart in his hand. That man’s family tried so hard to protect him. The video on YouTube didn’t even show them afterwards, just the man’s triumphant killers, but their wails of anguish could be heard. They must’ve watched this sadistic freak celebrating their loss and felt such rage, knowing they couldn’t do anything about it.
“Maybe looks are deceiving,” I tell him. “Maybe you made a huge mistake coming here.”
He just grins excitedly. “Oh, I love spirit. I’m gonna like killing you, I know it.”
“You don’t get to kill me,” I say coldly. Then I walk towards the Project Hope people, only a few of whom are brave enough to linger by the fence.
“Aw, come on!” Wolfman Savage shouts, seeing where I’m heading. Out of the corner of my eye, I’m aware of Death’s Disciples gathering around to furiously discuss this turn in the situation.
The Project Hope people press up against the fence eagerly, bright, friendly smiles on their lips. I try to smile back but can’t form my lips into the gesture. They may want to kill me for a good cause, but they still want to kill me.
“I hear you kill anathemas for sick children,” I say loudly.
Wolfman Savage jostles several of his hunters aside to rush towards them. I flash a quick glance behind me towards Amanda, who smiles at me over her cell phone camera.
“Hey, hey, this is our kill!” Wolfman Savage shouts at the Project Hope people.
“We donate all proceeds to local hospitals. Your bounty could pay for the care of little Timmy Westland,” says one of the Project Hope ladies, pulling out a photo of a round-faced boy. “He’s suffering from stage four—”
“This is OUR KILL,” Wolfman Savage says, storming up to the lady. She shrieks and stumbles back a step. But he’s careful not to touch her. “Do you know who I am? What do you think you’re playing at, lady?”
Then he says something that makes my blood run cold.
“There are two more perfectly killable anathemas in there for you scavengers. That’s bounty enough. You don’t need our girl here.”
Horror blooms through me.
Wolfman Savage knows I’m not the only anathema here. He knows about Alexander and Noelle.
“Who told you—” I begin, and then I realize how Wolfman Savage knows.
Russell.
He said he told them everything. He could’ve seen our group heading to the backstage hangout. He knows all about it. One check on his cell phone, and he could’ve ID’d Noelle as another anathema.
But did he tell everyone there are three anathemas here? Or just Death’s Disciples? Do all the hunters in town know three anathemas being forced out of school at the end of the day, or are Death’s Disciples the only guild aware of this?
Wolfman Savage continues to argue with them, but he doesn’t get physical. He’s careful not to do anything that could be construed as assault. He even waves back the rest of Death’s Disciples when they look ready to start something. Our plan is not going to work. We won’t get any blackmail material. More local hunters and Project Hope people begin to retreat in fear.
And Death’s Disciples know about Alexander and Noelle. They know. The thought beats through my brain over and over. They know, they know, they know…
I can’t just let this happen.
“Timmy has to wait,” I tell the Project Hope people. Then, to Wolfman Savage, “Can I talk to you? Alone?”
He stops arguing with the Project Hope lady, raising an intrigued eyebrow at me. He beckons me closer.
I shake my head. No way. I’m not that stupid. I walk away from the Project Hope people, maintaining my careful distance from the fence. I steal a glance behind me at Amanda, and see she’s lowering her cell phone, puzzled. I’m deviating from the plan. She throws a glance back towards the school lobby, as though Alexander might know more than she does about what I’m doing. He doesn’t. He can’t.
I need answers. Only Wolfman Savage has them.
When we’re far
enough from the Project Hope people, I say to Wolfman Savage, “You know about the other two anathemas. I guess all the hunters do, then?”
He leans against the fence again, his eyes gleaming with interest. Like any predator, he senses opportunity. Weakness. “Nope. Just a few of us who were here a few minutes ago when some helpful kid came out of the school to tell us. He also had me sign his cast.” He sounds perfectly reasonable, the way he does in his creepiest videos. He’s also confirmed my suspicion. It was Russell.
“I…” My voice falters. I don’t want to do this. Knots of terror form in my chest, my stomach. I have to do this. “I want those other two anathemas alive.”
A wolfish grin splits his lips. “I can make it happen. Scare away the last of the scavengers,” he nods derisively towards the small handful of local hunters still about, “tell my boys to back off. It’ll give them time to get clear of this place. I don’t care about lesser anathemas. I want the glory, the big ones. Everyone knows you, so you’re the one I’m here for. I want you. Do you get that? Just you.”
I get it.
“Kathryn, it’s obviously not working!” The shout comes from behind me. Amanda. “Just come back now!”
I glance back briefly and shake my head. Her brow furrows. She’s talking to someone on her cell phone. Her words to the person on the other end float to me. “Something’s wrong. She’s still talking to him.”
I turn back to Wolfman Savage, my heart pounding harder and harder. Blood rushes to my head, dizzying. I know what I have to do but I can’t move because the thought of it horrifies me. But there are no other options now. None at all. Three of us die tonight… Unless I do something now.
“Just me,” I repeat again, my voice a jagged whisper.
Maybe there was no avoiding this. From the moment I took those Showdown people to the beach, I’ve been teetering on the edge of this abyss. No, earlier. From the moment Mitch marched into my school and let me know it was my life or Alexander’s. I close my eyes.
Anathema Page 23
