The Renegades (The Superiors)

by Lena Hillbrand

  Usually Draven felt as he always had. He had no trouble thinking clearly or remembering. But something else had altered, some slight change in the way he treated sapiens. That was likely not Angel’s doing but Sally’s. In the vigilante prison, she had been his only friend. But she had been that. A true friend, and a sap. Though it seemed impossible for one being to play such opposing roles, she had. He had loved her, in a way. Not like a pet exactly, as he’d told Cali. And not like a lover, certainly. But more like…a person. She had made him see saps as people, and now that he had left her strange backwards world, he could not quite return saps to the proper place in his mind.

  He tried, and he cursed himself and grew frustrated when he forgot his role in this small party of runaways. He was their master. Providing for them and caring for them because they couldn’t do it themselves—those were his responsibilities. But sometimes he found himself talking to Cali, forgetting she wasn’t Sally, that she wasn’t a person like him, a Superior. Or he’d look at her and think something about her that he should only think about Superiors.

  He had yet to readjust to Superior society because he had not gone back. Therein lay the problem. He’d gone from Sally’s, to living on his own, to taking care of these two sapiens, and he had not returned himself to the correct place in society. It seemed only natural that after spending so much time in Sally’s company, he would see sapiens as she’d made him see them. No one had reminded him otherwise. He had tried to remind himself, but that endeavor proved fruitless. He should have applied for papers when he returned to Princeton, instead of living as a drifter. He should have sorted out his mind, reinstated himself in the order of the world, before he committed such a blatantly reckless crime. If he had gotten papered and worked for a few months, he’d have saved what little he could to take Cali somewhere safe where he could hide her.

  But he hadn’t. He had focused on the revenge rather than what happened after.

  This was what happened after his revenge. He’d been relegated to hunting animals, something he hadn’t done in a hundred years. But he imagined he’d remember it well enough in a moment. Releasing the branch he’d swung onto, he came down upon the deer, struggling to secure his arms about the doe’s neck. The animal shot forward on a surge of adrenaline, but Draven moved with it, drawing his hunting knife and sliding it across the animal’s throat in one swift motion. It lurched forward another few steps before stumbling to a halt and collapsing beneath him. Before more blood spurted from the wound, Draven lifted the animal’s head and clamped his mouth on its throat. Fighting his body’s impulse rid himself of this foreign sap, he continued drawing whatever sustenance he could from the creature, which lay on its side, still quivering with the impulses firing through its body even as its muscles ceased movement and its lungs expelled their last breath.

  Long after the animal had gone limp, Draven drew what he could from its still-warm body. It mattered little how repulsive the source—he needed energy. He needed strength, and he needed Cali to be stronger. Once he fed her enough, he could draw from her again.

  His stomach churned when he’d finished, full but in no way satisfied. He draped the deer over his shoulders and started back to the camp. The return trip wasn’t so rapid and freeing as swinging through the trees.

  When he reached camp, Cali and Leo lay sleeping, their chapped faces peeking out of the tattered blanket. Embers glowed under the ash in the fire pit. A bit at a time, Draven added small sticks and handfuls of pine needles to the ashes, blowing on the coals until they glowed. He continued adding fuel to the smoldering twigs, stoking the fire back to life. When it blazed again, he left the overhang and went to the creek. He’d lost his tarps to Sally’s people, so he used the tough plastic bag he’d taken from the store in Princeton to arrange the meat. The young doe, though it had lived less than a year, had enough meat on it to feed Cali for days. Draven removed the animal’s entrails, still warm with life. Though he’d have liked to have a hide blanket, he did not know how to treat it. Nonetheless, he thought he’d attempt it.

  Draven shook his head and pushed the unwelcome memory away. He began peeling back the hide, stripping the meat beneath from the bones. An animal moved in the woods nearby, no doubt drawn by the aroma of blood that rose from the slaughter. He stopped and listened for a moment before resuming. Again, something stirred in the trees beyond his sight, and then, very close, he heard the horrible tortured scream of a woman.

  He leapt over the meat and ran, still clutching the hunting knife. Leo began to wail just as Draven reached the overhanging rock where he had left his humans. Cali sat clutching Leo to her chest, her eyes wide with alarm. For a moment, Draven stood looking at her without comprehension, until the sound repeated itself nearby. Cali sucked in a shaky breath and her arms tightened around Leo, who squealed in protest.

  “Put all the wood on the fire,” Draven said, turning even as he spoke. He sprinted back to the river to find one of the big cats already dragging the carcass away. Though he had no way of knowing if more lurked nearby, he didn’t imagine he wanted to find out. The cat had taken the carcass, something Draven had wanted, too, but already he had more meat than Cali could eat before it spoiled. He’d rather not fight the panther. The cat growled a long, low sound deep in its throat and continued dragging the deer’s body. Draven approached slowly and wrapped the cut meat in the bag, his eyes trained on the panther.

  The guttural growl continued as Draven began to back away, still holding tightly to the knife. He wondered, if the cat ripped out his throat, if Cali would come looking for him and take him back to the cave. Not likely. And if other cats lurked nearby…perhaps they’d leave nothing for her to find.

  The panther shifted, its eyes never leaving Draven. He waited for it to spring from its crouched position, but it only watched. Another pair of eyes watched from behind the big cat, but the trees and shadows concealed the other animal’s form. Draven took another step back, listening for the sounds of other animals. When he reached the trees at the creek bank’s edge, he turned and fled over the groundcover of frosted leaves, moving as swiftly as he’d ever moved. He reached the overhanging area without being overtaken.

  At the camp, Cali stood much as he’d left her, wide-eyed, cradling Leo against her chest. Her heart beat too fast, but he couldn’t tell if the cats or his sudden reappearance frightened her. She had followed his bidding and piled the fire high with broken tree limbs. The blaze sent a plume of smoke into the darkness, white and pungent, the sharp scent almost as piercing as the chill in the air.

  Draven dragged a few of the burning branches to each end of the overhanging bluff, making a sort of cave under the ledge of rock. Then he turned his attention the meat.

  “What was that noise?” Cali asked. “Did you kill someone?”

  Draven chuckled and continued cutting the meat. “No.”

  “Well, what was it?”

  “Only an animal. The scream is eerie, but it won’t harm you. Do not worry.”

  “Why are you covered in blood? Did you kill it?”

  He considered explaining the situation, but it seemed complicated, so he simply nodded. For a few moments, Cali stood as if waiting, or perhaps trying to formulate yet another question. But she returned to her blanket without speaking and crawled under with Leo. Still, she did not sleep, but lay quietly watching Draven work. For a brief moment, he wondered if she tried to remember everything he did so she would know how to survive if or when she ran away…or he was killed. Perhaps he should teach her. But now he had only time to survive, not teach a sap to hunt. She couldn’t kill a deer the way he did, anyhow.

  When he’d finished cutting the meat into strips, he hung them to dry close to the fire. Outside the shelter, eyes shone in the darkness, but the animals did not come closer. The few times Draven had to leave the meat to gather wood, the animals backed away when he approached, then swept forward again when he returned to the overhang and left the forest to the animals. He worked through the night, watc
hing them watch him.

  At dawn, after the predators had slunk away, Draven left his humans sleeping and crept to the creek to launder his clothing and bathe. Aside from a bit of blood on the rocks, no trace of the deer remained. He did what he could to wash away the blood before returning to the cave. In the morning, Leo awakened and cried for quite some time. Draven did not imagine the child would survive much longer. But then, he’d been wrong about it surviving even this long. After Cali fed it, it fell asleep once more, although it kicked and cried from time to time in its sleep. Having tended to her child, Cali stood slowly and limped to the fire to settle herself in the glow of its warmth.

  When he noticed her eyeing the charred foil packages in the fire, Draven knelt beside her and unwrapped one. When possible, he avoided the sizzling juices that oozed from the crinkled wrapping and scorched his fingers, and ignored the few burns he sustained. Soon enough, if he fed Cali adequately, he could draw from her, and thus his minor wounds would heal almost instantly. He cut into the meat to make certain it had cooked all the way through. His tongue contracted at the salty, heady aroma and the memory of the pleasure he had once taken from such things. He pushed the steaming bundle towards Cali.

  She reached for it but jerked back just as Draven released it into her hands. The foil fell to the ground, spilling moist, oily chunks onto the dirty stone floor. Cali shrank back, her glance darting to Draven’s face and back to the floor. He didn’t have to hear her heartbeat or savor her fear to know she was frightened. He knelt to recover the meat and tossed it into the fire. When he’d cleared away all but the oily stain at her feet, he stood, noting the flicker of fear that crossed her face as she stood before him, awaiting her punishment without flinching. For a moment, he stood motionless, only watching the wonderful expressiveness of her face. Even frozen in an expression of brave resignation, it seemed to hold more life, more mutable softness, more capability for change than a Superior face.

  Draven smiled and slowly ran one greasy finger over the tip of her nose, over her lips and down her chin.

  “There’s more,” he said, turning back to the fire. “If there weren’t, we’d have simply wiped away the dirt. It would still taste good.” He set another piece of foil in front of Cali and unwrapped it. “If you were covered in two inches of dirt, I’d still want to eat you.” Draven glanced at Cali, who busied herself blowing the heat from a shred of meat. He’d not meant to scare her with a slip of the tongue. “Or rather…you know what I meant.”

  Watching Cali eat the food that smelled so appealing, but that he could no longer consume, Draven’s hunger grew with each bite she took. Leo began to cry, but Cali paid little attention. After a few minutes, Draven stooped to study the boy. His cry had weakened in the last few days, much like Draven’s reserve of strength. Draven waited until the boy had quieted before retrieving his hat and sunshades from the backpack.

  Although he hated the headaches and the weakness and exhaustion daylight caused, traveling during the day gave them a lead on the trackers.

  “Can we just stay here today?” Cali asked, watching him adjust the hat over his face.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed and clambered to her feet. “I’m just so tired of moving. I just want to sit here all day and rest. We haven’t heard any trackers or anything, right? Maybe they don’t know where we went and they gave up.”

  Draven chuckled. “They don’t give up.”

  “But they aren’t close, are they?” When he didn’t answer, she pressed on. “Are they?”

  “I don’t know. It’s safer for us to leave the mountains. Not only because of the trackers. It won’t be so cold at a lower elevation. If we get snowed in here…I can survive in the snow for a bit, but I don’t imagine you can.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is something bothering you?” he asked. “I have noticed your limp.”

  “I’m just not used to walking so much. My feet are awfully torn up, and my legs are so sore I wonder that they haven’t fallen off.”

  “Why haven’t you told me of these pains?”

  “I don’t know. I felt bad complaining when you’re carrying everything and all I have to carry is a knife.”

  “Then we shall rest a bit. Let me see your feet.”

  Cali pulled an edge of blanket free from Leo and clumsily situated herself beside him. She stretched her legs towards Draven, who knelt before her and removed her socks, careful to move slowly and lift them away from her blistered skin. Though he could not see well during daylight, he could tell the condition of her feet had deteriorated since he’d last seen them. Removing his hat to increase his scenting abilities took away most of his vision, but he could scent an infection with his senses unhindered. His fingers explored her feet with gentle thoroughness, finding their way over the soft swells of her new blisters, the sticky flaps of shriveled skin where others had recently broken, and the smooth spots where thicker skin had formed in place of her oldest blisters.

  “I can ease a bit of the pain in your feet,” he said, satisfied that she had escaped infection, if not discomfort. “But little can be done for your legs. You will grow stronger as we continue, and they won’t hurt anymore.”

  “So all I can do is wait?”

  “I know it is little comfort now,” Draven said.

  “Well…yeah. But I guess I can’t do much about that.” She drew away when he took up her foot and raised it to his mouth. “What are you doing?” she asked warily.

  “My saliva has properties that will help you heal and stop bleeding.”

  “But…my feet are dirty.”

  “Very well,” he said, kneeling to scoop her up. She uttered a shrill cry of surprise and clutched his neck, then relaxed as he carried her to the stream. When he set her down on the shore, she gave him an odd look before stepping into the water. She gasped and hugged herself, lifting one foot and then the other as she stood in the edge of the water. After a few moments, she retreated. Draven smiled at her trepidation concerning water, but he didn’t mention it. Instead, he carried her back to the bluff without a word. When he’d settled her into her spot at the edge of the blanket next to the baby, he resumed his earlier task.

  Lifting her foot, he again brought it to his mouth. She watched him as she did when he performed any task she’d never seen done, such as cleaning meat or carving wood. But when his tongue touched her instep, she jerked spastically and began giggling. Draven ceased and drew back to look at her. He’d rarely heard her laugh, and never in such an unthinking way, as if it burst forth from her with no restraint. Her giggling was so unexpected, so new to Draven, that he couldn’t help smiling.

  “What amuses you?” he asked.

  “It tickles,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Sorry. I’ll try to be still.”

  But she did not still. She jerked uncontrollably all the while, tugging at her foot while Draven cleaned it, giggling and apologizing until she woke Leo, who let out one hoarse cry before settling back into his fitful slumber. After wetting her broken skin and blisters with saliva, Draven held her foot, unsure if he should allow himself some measure of amusement. After a moment, he flicked his tongue between her toes.

  “Stop, stop,” she said, gasping for breath. She rocked back and forth, kicking her foot at him.

  Chuckling, he released his hold on her ankle. “You’re quite an amusing girl,” he said, capturing her other foot.

  “No, no, don’t do it again. Please stop,” she said, though he could hardly understand her words through her laughter.

  He bit back a smile. “You agreed to do anything I asked,” he said. “You promised when I returned for your child.”

  While she giggled and thrashed against his hold, he ran his tongue over her blistered skin. When he finished, he pulled away, laughing with her, caught her other foot and pulled her towards him. He used a bit more force than he’d intended, and Cali’s braced hands slipped from under her and her body slid towards him, pulling the blanket with it. Now o
n her back, she looked up at him kneeling between her knees. Both halted their laughter abruptly.

  Draven pushed her back and cleared his throat.

  “I cannot heal your legs, as the soreness originates in your muscles,” he said, again taking her foot into his hands. He cupped her heel in his palm and began massaging his thumbs into her ankles and the tendons at the back of her foot, working his way up her leg tentatively. He knew he could easily bruise her and cause more discomfort than he alleviated. Avoiding her gaze, he studied the movement of his hands, although his fingers, rather than his eyes, guided him—the sunlight that filtered into their protected spot under the cliff nearly blinded him.

  “Tell me if I’m too hard,” he said after a bit.

  “No, it feels good.”

  He could not disagree. The icy water had chilled her feet until he’d forgotten for a moment how her warmth captivated him, how he craved it almost as much as her sap. It was part of the same magic, inextricably linked. Her bodily warmth reminded him of the warmth of sap, the warmth of life that flowed in her veins. He could no longer remember why that heat had so disgusted him for most of his Superior life.

  Suddenly Cali’s hand covered his. “Stop,” she whispered. He glanced up at her face for the first time since he’d begun, a bit disconcerted. Lost in thought, he’d forgotten her, forgotten himself. Her tense fingers squeezed his, a resistant reminder of what separated them. Smiling to himself, he shook his head, but he acquiesced, working his fingers down her thigh instead of continuing.