by J. L. Weil
“Sounds like a smart woman.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t always think so.” One of the things about hindsight, it sucked. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever get the chance to be the daughter she deserved.
“Is that regret I hear?” the all too perceptive bird asked.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Maybe. You’d be surprised how much time you have to think out here.”
“Especially when you don’t sleep.”
I nodded. Bull’s-eye.
“You know there are plants here that can aid your insomnia. The rascally tracker has knowledge of medicinal properties. Part of his stint as a white city goon.”
It was apparent Blink was no fan of Dash, and it made me want to know details. “And why should I trust you?”
If a bird could look offended, Blink did. “Saving your life isn’t enough to earn your trust?” He snorted.
What is it with everyone saving my life?
How did I really know he had distracted the guards? They had ended up finding Dash and me anyway. He could have just as easily informed the guards of our location. “I don’t know what or who to believe anymore.” He was a freaking talking bird, for goodness’ sake.
“You better decide soon, before it’s too late,” he warned.
He was telling me.
The bird started pacing up and down the branch, his little claws clamping on the wood as he went. “I can help you find your family. The tracker is good, I’ll give him that, but he is not a blinken.”
Whatever that meant. I glanced over at Dash as he rolled onto his side, shadows of firelight playing over his face. “What about him?”
Blink shook his feathery head. “Nope. No way. Not in this lifetime. The tracker stays put, and when he wakes, he’ll think you took off or that the Institute got you. Either way, it’s a win-win.”
My brow furrowed. No deal. I didn’t want Dash thinking I ditched him or that the Institute got its paws on me. And I think the bird underestimated Dash. If I just disappeared, he would be compelled to look for me—to save me. Something told me he wouldn’t stop until he did. I couldn’t put Dash through that, thinking he’d let the Institute snatch me from right under his nose. It was wrong. He might be an asshat most days, but it didn’t erase the attachment I felt toward him. My feelings grew stronger the longer we were together. “Thanks, but I’ll take my chances with him.”
He puffed out his feathery chest. “Suit yourself.” Blink hovered in the air, large wings flapping and blowing air over my face. “Do try to stay out of trouble, little human.”
I rolled my eyes. He did know who he was talking to, right? Trouble followed me like a dog glued to a cat’s butt.
“Did you have another snapshot?” Dash mumbled, his voice thick from sleep, and he looked over at me with half-slit eyes.
“What color are my eyes?” I asked, turning so he could see. I was pretty sure the dream had been a snapshot but was hoping enough time had elapsed that my eyes would be normal. I wasn’t ready to talk about what I’d seen.
He squinted. “Orange.”
“What?” I squeaked, hands flying to my face.
The tilt of his lips spread into a smile, revealing his oh-me, oh-my dimples. “Kidding.”
I chucked a pebble at him. “That wasn’t funny.”
“Hey. That hurt,” he complained, rubbing his arm with a grin on his lips.
“Good.”
“I knew you had a wicked side.”
A slow smile pulled at my lips. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Stretching out his long legs, he sat up. “Oh, Freckles, you’ve no idea. In this world, people don’t just have a wicked side, most have a dark, seedy side.”
Joy. “You don’t have much faith in mankind.”
“Why should I when the world has done nothing but crap on me?”
“Well, I will definitely not crap on you.”
His lips twitched, and our eyes entangled.
Uh-oh.
That feeling I was trying hard to pretend wasn’t there snuck up, and I found I couldn’t look away. There was something incredibly sexy about Dash, all rumpled from sleep, that made me want to curl up next to him.
And if he kept looking at me like I was the last piece of chocolate, I might be tempted to do just that. I didn’t realize how much I craved human touch. A hug. A kiss. Holding hands. I missed all those simple gestures.
After what was certainly the longest and shortest minute of my life, he averted his gaze, breaking the intense moment. “We should probably go. Being this close to the Institute makes me restless.”
Right … before things between us moved from steamy glances to awkward pining.
I cleared my throat and began gathering up my supplies, stuffing them into my pack. The moon was beginning to disappear, and the first morning light would crest within an hour. While Dash did his thing, I snuck off behind a tree and changed my shirt.
When I returned, Dash scattered the remains of the fire. “We’ll fill our canteens and eat on the road.”
I stood straight and gave him a mock salute. “Aye-aye, captain.”
He looked at me, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just try not to get us killed before midday.”
I cracked a grin. “I can’t make any promises.”
Chapter 16
I had never been so happy to be out of the desert, but roaming from one holding house to another on a mission had its own downfalls.
Unlike the Badlands, the Somber Mountains was cooler, not Chicago winter cold, but it was a relief from the melt-your-skin desert. The terrain was rough and bumpy. It was all about the jutting rocks and hilly ground. Ringlets of white smoke billowed over the top of the mountain peaks, evaporating into wisps of darkness.
Similar to the Badlands, there was a desolate loneliness hidden in the crevices of the hills. The wind howled in an almost cry of a weeping woman, instilling a sadness in my belly.
I rubbed my palms up and down my arms, generating warmth.
“Are you cold?” Dash asked. There was no denying the concern there. He swung his pack off his shoulder.
“No, not really,” I assured him before he did something chivalrous. Wouldn’t want him to tarnish his ominous reputation. “It’s just this place. It gives me the chills.” My eyes bounced from one rocky wall to another.
“The change in temp can be a shock to your system. Don’t play the tough guy,” he advised, kneeling down at the edge of the river flowing along the quadrant borders. He filled our canteens with one of the only natural water sources that wasn’t toxic. It ran clear and blue, no bubbling green mist or glittery gold surface.
We were still teetering on the border of the Institute and the Somber Mountains. Straight ahead, I could just make out the mountain this quadrant was named for. It appeared to touch the sky, and at our backs, the Institute glittered in the moonlight. “Tell me more about the founding trustees. Have you ever met them?”
He handed me a bottle of water. “Once. After Jaxson, the commissioner to the Night’s Guard, saw what I was capable of, I was brought to the trustees for an offer.”
I took a swig, coating my parched throat. “What kind of offer?”
A frown marred his face. “They wanted me to help patrol the pods and bring in the new recruits, keep everyone in line. Not everyone wakes up so peaceful and trusting as you did, Freckles. Sometimes, things get out of hand.”
“And you refused?”
He shook his head. “No. I took the job.”
My eyes widened. “Why?”
“I saw it as an opportunity. If my family was in a pod, I could locate them. Eventually, it turned into a way for me to escape. It didn’t pan out so well considering I ended up in an underground jail.” He tried to keep his tone light, but under the façade, there was anger.
I started to scowl. “Is that how you know where to search?”
“Yeah. I know the general locations of all the pods in the Heights.”
“How many are there?”
“Inside the quadrants, there are at least a few hundred. Outside the perimeter …” he shrugged, “…who knows? If anyone has woken beyond the boundaries, the mist that still lingers would have probably killed them.”
I stumbled, tripping over my own sore feet. “The mist isn’t gone?”
He shook his head. “No, not completely. Outside the borders of Starling Heights, the mist plagues the air. Each year it grows a little bit smaller, but at the rate it’s shrinking, it will be decades before it disappears completely.”
“So no one knows what is beyond the Heights?” I questioned.
“Death, that’s what.”
Dun. Dun. Duuun.
Leave it to Dash to end things on a dark and forlorn note.
Nestled into a debris of rocks, we came upon a holding pod that looked as if there had been an earthquake knocking rocks and rubble on top of it and partially obscuring the building. Intentional or not, it hid the entryway, and if Dash didn’t have eyes as keen as an owl and the general knowledge of its location, we would have passed it right by.
I went through the front door with hope, knowing I was probably setting myself up for heartache, but I couldn’t stop the tingling of optimism. My little sis, mom, or dad could be lying asleep within these concrete walls.
Once again, the coldness of the facility smacked me in the face, causing the tiny hairs on my arms to stand up. The air tasted of iron and sorrow. I didn’t know what it was about these frozen chambers, but immense sadness rushed in me for the souls lying on the metal tables, like the place was a morgue.
I ran my fingers along the wall as we went down the hall. Dash’s warm body beside me was the only thing making the chamber tolerable. I wanted to take his hand. He must have read my mind. His fingers threaded through mine.
Friends hold hands. It is totally normal.
Dash led me through chamber after chamber, and I did everything I could to keep my face expressionless. It wasn’t easy. I wasn’t made of stone, yet seeing the empty slabs gave me a wee bit of hope. I couldn’t figure out which was the lessor of two evils—waking up, or being blissfully asleep.
“Any familiar faces?” Dash whispered.
“No. Not yet,” I replied, scanning the sterile room. Two rows of bodies, lying there, placid and tinged with blue. The drug used to induce such a slumber was powerful and innovative stuff.
“Story of my life,” he grumbled.
I squeezed his hand.
“We’ve only got an estimated twenty minutes until the next round of guards come strolling in. Let’s do a quick sweep of the remaining rooms and make ourselves scarce. What do you say?”
I couldn’t answer him, because I was staring at a face I recognized. Moving closer, I gaped at the girl who had been my friend since second grade. I couldn’t describe the feelings racing through me at seeing a familiar face. My lips split into a silly grin.
“Chloe,” I whispered. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it’s you.” My friend, with her blonde hair and doe eyes, didn’t so much as twitch. “Chloe, wake up. It’s me.” I wanted to shake her, scream at her, slap her, anything to make her wake up, but it wouldn’t have made a difference. Didn’t stop me from trying. She just lay there motionless, her arm flopping over the side of the slab from my efforts.
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them back.
“Freckles, she can’t hear you.” He rested a gentle hand on my shoulder.
I sniffed and placed her hand over her chest. “I’ll come back for you,” I murmured.
“We need to go,” Dash said, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
I nodded, allowing him to usher me through the holding house like a zombie. I could feel the control on my sanity snapping one fragile thread at a time. Seeing Chloe like that, frozen in a coma-like slumber, pale and lifeless, had a deeper influence on me than I’d expected. If seeing one of my friends in such a state had me a shaky mess, what would I feel at seeing my little sister like that?
My stomach sunk like an anchor to the bottom of the ocean as the crisp mountain air rushed over my cheeks. The disappointment spinning inside me was great knowing there was nothing I could do for Chloe, increasing the hopelessness I was trying so hard to squash. It was a losing battle.
A maelstrom of emotion swept through me, finally cracking the thin barricade I could no longer keep in place. My face crumbled, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t stop it, didn’t even try. What was the point?
Dash took one look at my stricken expression and gathered me up in his arms, tucking my head against his chest. I buried my damp face, not able to care about my ugly cry.
“I’m sorry,” I hiccupped. There wasn’t time for me to have an emotional breakdown. We needed to be moving, and it meant something to me that Dash took a minute to comfort me in his own way. He might not want to admit there was something more between us, but it was moments like this that told me he cared.
Dash made a strangled sound from deep within him, and his arms tightened around me. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured into my hair.
He continued to hold me until the tears ran dry, all the while whispering soothing words. I lifted my head, and he swept his thumbs over my cheeks, erasing the remaining tracks of tears. “You okay?”
On the spur of the moment, I stretched up on my toes and pressed my mouth to his. It was nothing more than a brush of our lips, a thank you, but there was an undeniable spark that radiated between us. It lit up every nerve ending in my body, and from the darkening of his eyes, he felt it too.
I lowered myself to the flats of my feet, staring into his stormy eyes. At another time and place, I might have taken advantage of the flare of need churning in his expression, but I wanted Dash to be receptive. I didn’t want to trick him, so I pretended my body wasn’t flushed, and I didn’t want him to kiss me senseless.
With the tears dried, we left behind the holding pod and Chloe, heading back into the sporadic thickets of trees and cliffs. I had meant what I said. I would come back for Chloe. The vow triggered something inside me, and I began to pay attention to the details of where we were. Someday, I would come back here, and I would find a way to save Chloe from being another pawn for the Institute.
A patch of wildflowers caught my eye. Such a vibrant shade of purple, their velvety petals rained on the ground beneath the shrub. It was frivolous, but I wanted to pick one of the enchanting flowers. The sweet smell that fragranced the air around them caused a tinge of longing for the fanciful things from my life before. Perfume. Makeup. Prom.
I never got the chance to go to my senior prom or graduate high school. Just add that to the long list of crap I never got the chance to do. Bending down, I stuck my nose into the center of the flower and inhaled the scent of spring. It was lovely. I plucked a bud at the stem, failing to notice the thorns until one stuck me, piercing my skin.
“Ouch!” My blood, red as a freshly picked rose, trickled over my nail, running down the side of my hand. “Dammit,” I swore, popping my finger into my mouth and attempting to suck away the sting.
Dash was suddenly at my side, barking orders. “Let me see that,” he demanded, getting all pushy on me. He plucked my finger from my mouth, examining the puncture. It was a deeper cut than I would have ever imagined a tiny thorn could cause, and it hurt like no one’s business.
I scowled. “Hey, I wasn’t done with that.”
“This plant is poisonous.”
“Of course it is,” I grumbled. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything here is either venomous or rabid.
Dash watched me as he put pressure on the wound. “You might start to feel dizzy or sick. I’m going to try to drain out the poison.”
Uh. What? Drain? With his mouth? He wanted to suck on my finger? I tugged my hand from his grasp. “You are not putting my finger in your mouth.”
“Trust me, Freckles, this isn’t a twisted attempt at foreplay.”
I did the unthinkable. I glanced
down at the cut. Ugh. This might have been a good time to mention that blood, more specifically, my blood, made me queasy. As usual, he had impeccable timing. Before I could mention my affliction, nausea came up out of nowhere, rolling in my stomach in angry waves.
Oh, God. I was going to vomit.
Like all over the front of Dash’s black T-shirt.
“I need to sit down,” I groaned. Hurling wasn’t my only concern. I was having trouble breathing as I lifted my gaze. “Dash,” I muttered.
His brows furrowed together. “You look like crap.”
Any other time, I would have jumped down his throat for a comment like that, but at the moment, I didn’t have the energy to mince words with him. My skin felt clammy and gross, dizziness swarming me as the wet warmth of blood cascaded down my finger.
There were two Dashs frowning at me. “Freckles, don’t you dare—”
Too late. I swayed forward toward him. Blackness consumed me.
Chapter 17
“Charlotte,” Dash whispered.
My eyes fluttered open.
A sense of Déjà vu overcame me as I stared up into Dash’s silver eyes. Why, oh why, did he always have to be so close? My body could only handle so much excitement in a twenty-four hour period, and I was past my point of controlling my ability to keep myself from doing stupid things.
“What happened?” I asked. I was on the ground, flat on my back, staring up at a dark sky strewn with glowing stars.
Moonlight sliced over his face, picking up flecks of gray in his eyes. “You fainted, that’s what happened.”
“I did not. I never faint.”
The sides of his lips twitched. “Hate to break it to you, doll, but you most certainly did. And would’ve cracked your head on a rock too, if I didn’t have ninja-like reflexes.”
“I’m guessing you want a thank you?”
Dash tugged on a strand of my hair, grinning. “What do you have in mind?
I angled my head to the side. “Come a little closer, and I’ll show you.” I couldn’t help myself. There was something almost fun and thrilling about making Dash uncomfortable.
