Weapons of War [YA Edition]

by Tracey Ward

  Tim’s grin grows briefly before it falls away. He’s thinking about his dead wife now. Eric’s probably thinking about his wife stuck in another Colony, and Sandra is probably thinking about knitting. Sandra is always thinking about knitting. She promised me a hat to keep my nearly bald head warm this winter and I’m actually hoping she makes good on that promise. A hat could come in handy when you’re cruising away over Lake Union with the MOHAI at your back and the wide open space of the wild sprawling out in front of you.

  Kitten is awake. She appears out of nowhere in the line for breakfast, taking me by surprise, and I secretly admire how she can do that. She’s used to being unseen, and even in this place packed with eyes just dying to eat her up, she manages to fly under the radar more often than should be physically possible.

  When she makes it to the table, sitting down next to Sandra without a single glance in her direction, she looks unnerved. Maybe even angry as she searches the faces in the cafeteria, looking for Jesus knows who.

  “Joss,” I grab at her attention gently. “Have you met Sandra?”

  “No. Hi.” No eye contact.

  This is what’s bugging me about her. This antisocial crap. Yeah, we all get it, you lived alone for a long time. Boo-hoo. You wanna get back to that life? You wanna get back to this boyfriend Ryan of yours, then you better step up and help me get us out of here.

  Sandra gestures to the pancakes Joss picked out, asking me, “Better or worse than the ones at the Hive?”

  “Better.” I grin at her crookedly. A little flirtation to make her heart flutter. “Everything about the food is better.”

  “What’s not better?” Tim asks seriously. His voice is hushed. He doesn’t want anyone outside this table hearing him. Hell, I don’t even think Joss heard him.

  I consider his question carefully. “The freedom. At the Hive, I could go outside whenever I wanted. I could walk to the edge of the pier and jump into the Sound if I felt like it. I can’t even put a toe on the dock here without getting shot.”

  He nods, chewing on my misery and his eggs. “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

  I open my mouth to ask him if he volunteered to be here or he was taken in like me, but Sandra cuts me off. Her voice is forceful and full, the opposite of Tim’s. She speaks like she wants to be heard.

  “You know what has to suck about the outside? The Risen. There are countless Risen out there. Every day is a struggle to survive. Someone like you, Vin, you can handle it but not all of us are built like that. It’d be nice if we were, but we’re just not.”

  “That’s true,” Eric agrees, his voice equally elevated. “I wouldn’t last a day out there on my own. That dip in the Sound would be the last thing I ever did.”

  Melissa, the leader assigned to Joss, wanders by our table with approving smiles for everyone.

  Tim chuckles. “I can’t even swim.”

  I smile with them, watching Melissa hover a little longer as they run down the list of things they can’t do on the outside. Things that would get them killed on Day One. Eric can’t run, he’s got a bum knee. Sandra can’t kill anything, she faints at the sight of blood. Tim would never fight a living or a dead, he’s a pacifist. And a vegan.

  I decide then and there that Tim’s will be the fakest of all my fake friendships because I can’t handle a pacifist vegan. It flies in the face of everything I believe in.

  Through all of it, Kitten sits there with a sour look on her face and not a peep out of her mouth. Even after Melissa is gone and the tone at the table feels normal again, she never says a word. She reminds me of Breanne when she first came into the Hive. I had to have Stormy teach her to talk because she never spoke a word to her jobs. Just laid there like a log until they rolled off her, ‘cause nothing makes a man feel more powerful than pure silence. Money well spent.

  When they’re gone and Kitten and I are finally alone, I wait patiently for my chance to lay into her. It comes quickly, just as the room is nearly emptied. She goes to stand without a word, taking her plate with her.

  I smash my hand down on top of it, knocking it back loudly onto the table.

  Kitten glares at me in shock. “What’s your deal?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You need to get to making friends with these people.”

  “You sound just like Nats,” she mumbles, looking away.

  “She’s a smart woman, you should listen to her. I know social skills aren’t your thing, but at least try.”

  “Why do we need to make friends with them?”

  “To use them,” I bark, running out of patience.

  She sneers. “That’s chipper.”

  “Do you want out of here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then get off your high horse and help me out.”

  She sits back, assessing me. Finally, reluctantly, she asks, “What are we using them for?”

  “Eric and Tim, the guys sitting beside me who you ignored, they work in the fields. Do you know where the fields are?”

  “Outside the building,” she replies slowly, knowledge sinking into her thick little skull, “where we’re not allowed.”

  “And Sandra works in the laundry. How could the laundry be helpful to us, Joss?”

  “Clothing. Warm clothing and lots of it.”

  I smack my hand on the table again, the bang making her jump. “Nailed it. Next time I expect you to act a little friendlier and remember that we would like to get out of here before we die.”

  I go to leave, to let her sit and stew over her mistakes, but she surprises the hell out of me when she stands too, pointing an angry finger in my face.

  “And next time, you try and remember that you’re not my pimp,” she seethes. “I’m not one of your girls and if you want my help, you’ll watch the way you talk to me. Understood?”

  My first instinct is to put her in line. She’s like a new girl in the Stable. She’s a pony that needs to be broken or she’s useless to me. She’ll never follow the rules. She’ll never toe the line I draw for her. She’ll cross it every time just to spite me, to show me she can, because that’s just like her. Just like Seven with those big, bold eyes and small body that refuses to bow down to a man like me. I could break her in half with my bare hands and she’s standing there daring me to do it. She’s so many shades of Madeline in that moment, I can hardly see straight. I feel sick and excited at the same time. Calm in a way that feels dangerous even to me.

  “Understood, Kitten,” I reply roughly.

  Her eyes flash with recognition and I think she understands more about men than I gave her credit for. “Don’t.”

  I grab her wrist just as she tries to lower her hand. It’s easy to pull her forward. To lean her over the table close to me until our eyes are filled with each other and I can see less of her. I can see more of what’s inside and I’m molding it into something else. Someone else. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t make it like this. We’re not like this, you and I.”

  “Who’s to say we couldn’t be?”

  “Me.”

  “Come on, Kitten,” I chuckle, my voice deep and sexy. “Don’t you ever get tired of being alone?”

  “Are you gonna fix that for me, Vin? Are you gonna be with me and stay with me forever? Can you handle that?”

  “Is that what you’re looking for? The fairytale and forever after? Because I’ll break it to you now; it’s a myth. It always has been.”

  “I’m not holding out for forever. I’d be happy with tomorrow but you can’t even promise me that, so let’s stop this before it gets weird and we can’t come back from it.” She glances over my shoulder. Her face pales. “And before your girlfriend gets the wrong idea.”

  “My what?” I frown, looking over my shoulder.

  Caroline. Angry, hateful, crazy, jealous Caroline is watching me lean into Kitten like I’m going in for a kiss.

  I growl a curse, my entire body
clenching angrily. Including my hands.

  Kitten lets out a whimper of genuine agony, jerking my attention back to her.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Let go of me,” she insists, swatting at my hand until I let her go. When I do, she pulls her wrist in protectively to her body.

  “What happened to your hand?”

  “I got in a fight,” she admits reluctantly.

  “Did you win?”

  She scoffs. “Are you serious? Of course I won.”

  “What happened?”

  “A girl jumped me while I was sleeping. I punched her in the face. Then in the ear. Finally she went away.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I punched her,” she repeats slowly.

  I sigh impatiently. “Why did she jump you?”

  “No idea. But if it happens again, I’m finishing what she started.”

  I hesitate, glancing at her wrist. It looks fine on the outside but inside has to be aching like a crazy. Kitten’s tough. She would never show me weakness like that whimper if she didn’t absolutely have to.

  It doesn’t surprise me that she made someone mad enough to attack her. It doesn’t surprise me that she won. What surprises me is that they were able to hurt her in any way. It’s insane how angry the thought makes me.

  “What about Caroline?” I ask quietly. “Is she still watching?”

  “No. She’s gone.”

  “Good. You should get to work.” I frown, trying to remember. “Where do they have you now?”

  Joss’ job has changed three times because she ‘doesn’t fit in yet’. First she was in the greenhouse, then pulling unarmed guard duty on the wall, and now they’ve moved her to the kitchens. It’s amazing to me that they keep giving this little monster jobs where she has access to weapons like a pair of shears or knives, but I’m stuck folding everyone’s underwear. The ladies, I don’t mind, but the men’s dick-slings I could definitely do without. It’s humiliating and I think that’s the point.

  “Kitchen,” she replies with a sneer.

  “So you’re already at work.”

  “Basically.” She smirks at me. “How’s housekeeping?”

  “Shut up.”

  “My pillow could use fluffing. Remember that when you change the sheets next.”

  “Keep it up and you’ll get a pillow full of pig shit.”

  “I’m telling your leader.”

  “Go ahead. Dude loves me.”

  She wrinkles her slender nose unhappily. “Yeah, so does mine.”

  “You could take that as a good thing.”

  “I don’t want to be liked by these people. They suck.”

  “Not all of them.”

  “Seriously? Name one who doesn’t.”

  “Sandra. Tim. Eric.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Them again.”

  I grin at her annoyance. “Yeah. Them again.”

  “I’ll play nice. I promise.”

  “After you find the fool who jumped you?”

  “And put her in the ground,” she snarls.

  I sling my arm over her shoulders, pulling her into my side where she feels small and vengeful. “That’s my pretty kitty.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Vin

  It took almost a week, but Joss finally found the girl who jumped her. I asked around but no one would give me a straight answer on who did it. Not Sandra or Eric. Not even Trish. She demanded I let her cut my hair again when I quizzed her, but I told her not until she gave me information on the girl. She clammed up real quick. I’m actually a little impressed with the loyalty. Not to the place – basically no one is happy to be in this Colony – but to each other. There’s something going on behind the scenes with these people and I’ve been chasing it since we got here. We’ve been inside for over a month, and Kitten finding the girl stupid enough to put hands on her is finally bringing that elusive ‘something’ right to my door.

  Lexy wants to talk to ‘the Hornet’. She wants to talk on behalf of the rebellion about getting out.

  “She said she wasn’t attacking me that night,” Kitten explains quietly, her eyes searching the cafeteria. There’s practically no one here and none of them are listening. Or they are and they’re surprisingly good at hiding it.

  “So what was she doing puttin’ her hand on your mouth while you were sleeping?”

  “She wanted to keep me from screaming when she woke me up.”

  I laugh in disbelief. “I would pay to see that.”

  “I don’t scream.”

  “I believe it.”

  “She made a mistake.”

  “I heard the black eye was brutal.” I offer my knuckles out of respect.

  She doesn’t hesitate to bump them soundly. “She brought it on herself.”

  “Act like a bitch, get hit like a bitch.”

  “She’s annoying,” Kitten complains suddenly. Or maybe she’s warning me. “I’ve had to sit there sewing with her for a week now and she drives me nuts.”

  “I wouldn’t call what you do ‘sewing’.”

  “I’m trying my best.”

  “Your best is terrible.”

  She glares at me, exasperated. “I brought you Lexy, didn’t I? You told me to make friends and I did.”

  “I don’t see her.”

  “She’ll be here.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see.” I look at the clock on the back wall of the cafeteria. “Nats is off soon.”

  “Good. Maybe she’ll be nicer than you.”

  “Everyone is nicer than me.”

  “Right. ‘Cause you’re a big, bad Hornet,” she mutters sarcastically. “I totally forgot.”

  I smile at her and her bitterness. It’s like Honey to me. I love pissing her off.

  Kitten fidgets with a fork, avoiding my eyes. “I ran into Breanne in the bathroom yesterday. She looked right through me.”

  I clear my throat, sitting back in my seat. “I told you. She’s gone native. She’s Colony now.”

  “You’re really not going to try to save her?”

  “Can’t save someone that doesn’t wanna be saved, Kitten. It’s not even worth trying.”

  I spot Nats come into the caf. She’s the last night shifter to come in, the place almost completely emptied out except for Kitten and me. I wave to her to let her know we’re waiting. She nods and snags a muffin off the buffet on her way over.

  “Where’s the girl?” she asks discreetly, parking herself across from us.

  “According to Kitten, she should be here any minute.”

  “You think she’s legit?”

  I shrug. “No way to know.”

  “I think she is,” Kitten chimes in quietly.

  “Well, then it must be true.”

  She scowls at me silently.

  “Remind me again,” I command Kitten, “what did this Lexy chick tell you exactly?”

  “It wasn’t really her. It was the kitchen crew. Lexy doesn’t trust me since I punched her. Repeatedly.”

  “What’d they say?”

  “That there’s a group of people here that aren’t happy.”

  “They aren’t happy with this Colony,” I clarify. “But they’re cool with the other ones?”

  “Sort of. Everyone here got yanked from their original Colony. Almost everyone was separated from their families. The leaders did it because they said this one needed to be rebuilt by experts and that they’d go home eventually. But the place is fully functional and no one is talking about when they can leave.”

  “They said the MOHAI was damaged by a plumbing problem,” Nats adds, munching on her muffin. “Which is a lie. There’s no water damage. If anything, it looks like there was a struggle. Especially in the basement.”

  “And then there’s the Risen. So many flooded the wild recently. This has to be the Colony that fell.”

  I nod like this is all very interesting. Like I don’t know that this place fell because Marlow took it down. Maybe Nats would understand if she knew, but no
t Kitten. I’d lose a lot of trust with her if I told her the truth so I don’t because I don’t have to. Not yet, at least.

  “But nobody’s in love with the Colonies in general,” Kitten continues. “They used to be, but the people in the kitchen told me it went from being about community and survival to some obsession with the sickness and purity and keeping the filth out. The doors are locked. They can’t go outside anymore. They can’t talk to the other Colonies. They don’t even know how many Colonies there are. But they’re all supposed to share to take care of each other so resources get shipped out whenever they have extra, but no one can get a clear answer on where exactly it’s all going. And nothing ever comes here. Trucks come in empty, they leave full of stuff, but never the other way around.”

  “The worst part about this place is the families,” Nats whispers. “Everyone I’ve talked to says they have family in another Colony. A husband or a wife or kids. There are no children here. They think it’s leverage to keep everyone in line, both here and in the Stadiums.”

  “And if they need to keep people in line, they know they’ve got trouble brewing,” I surmise darkly.

  “I think so. I think people are getting angry at the new tone the Colony is striking.”

  “They’re starting to feel like prisoners,” Kitten agrees.

  I snort. “Yeah, well, welcome to the club.”

  “We’re going to be late,” Laura complains from behind me.

  A man chuckles. “We’ll be two minutes late. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It matters.”

  “Yeah, to the leaders. I don’t care what they think.”

  “Let’s just hurry, okay?”

  I turn to watch her walk quickly past our table. Her face is serious and strained, her lips pulled extra irritated over her teeth. She’s wound tight as a lightning bolt, her long legs pumping with too much purpose. She’s got a nice ass though. Taut as her personality.

  “What’s the soap situation, Sherlock?” I shout to her. “Did you find your thief?”

  She hesitates, turning to look for who’s talking to her. Her face falls when she sees it’s me. “Why would you care?”