Night Betrayed

by Joss Ware

  She just hoped Seattle meant to unlock the restraint before he drove off in the morning. She could live through another beating and rape, but not being dragged along beneath those huge wheels.

  Things hadn’t started off this badly when he’d killed Ian and took her off with him in the truck a week ago. That was how she’d lost Dantès, too. He couldn’t have followed a truck, but he’d already gone missing when they drove off. Remy tried not to worry too much because Dantès always found her. No matter what.

  And at first, Seattle had been what he must have considered to be charming and friendly. Remy had been plotting her escape from the beginning, taking care to keep her pistol hidden in the small pack she had, or in the back of her jeans. She should have left sooner, but they were with other bounty hunters and didn’t want to raise suspicion. Plus, she needed time to plan.

  But after three nights of her resisting his physical advances, Seattle had obviously had enough. He’d slipped over to her while she was sleeping there, in the same room as the other bounty hunters, and she’d awakened to his hand over her mouth and his leg shoving between hers. His long ringleted hair brushed her face.

  “You gave it up for Marck, you’ll give it up for me,” he growled into her face when her eyes bolted open.

  But Remy didn’t sleep without her pistol, and when she reached behind her head to grab it in a pretend stretch, Seattle got the unpleasant surprise of the barrel jamming against the side of his head.

  “Get off me,” she hissed when he froze and she shoved his hand away. “And don’t touch me again.”

  Seattle rolled away, but not before he fixed her with a look of loathing evident even in the dim light of night. She knew then she’d made an enemy, so she’d gotten more serious about escaping.

  But the next day, as they were driving in the trucks, Seattle made a detour while the others went back to Yellow Mountain. And he took her with him, using a handcuff to keep her in the truck, and then with him later.

  That was the first time he’d raped her.

  The next day, she’d tried to escape by hitting him in the head with a rock when he was taking a piss near a river, her wrist cuffed to his.

  He’d held her face under water long enough that the darkness came and took her away. When she came to, he hit her in the face, then yanked down her pants again.

  Tonight had been the worst, which was why she’d been relegated to under the truck—to a night of discomfort and the fear of being dragged out and devoured by zombies. She preferred not to relive the other details that had led to being here. Instead, she tried not to cry, tried not to give in to the despair and fear and pain.

  I have to find a way out of here. I will find a way out of here.

  Her grandfather’s voice came back to her. You’re the one. You’re the only one who can change it.

  She’d never known what he meant, but she’d taken to heart his warning: Hide yourself. Don’t let them find you. She’d lived her whole life by that mantra, never understanding why.

  The irony of her predicament was that they hadn’t found her—whoever “they” was. Seattle had no idea who she was. If he did . . .

  Oh God.

  What if I told him? And he realizes I’m the one they’ve been searching for?

  Would that save my life?

  Optimism stirred deep inside her. It might even protect her from further abuse.

  But if she told him, then her secret would be over. They’d all know and they’d never stop hunting her.

  Unless I killed him first.

  Not that she hadn’t been trying to for the last three days.

  A little sob tried to work its way up from her lungs, but she didn’t even have the energy for that. Her ribs hurt where Seattle had kicked her.

  She shifted her handcuffed wrist under the truck, trying to get comfortable. It was dark and shadowy, but a slice of moon cast on the ground outside and gave a little illumination. Was there anything under here that she could use as a weapon? It was all metal, some of it was rusty . . .

  Hope renewed, she began to feel around beneath the truck, wondering if she could break off a sharp piece of metal.

  Damned if I’m going to let him win.

  “You’re done,” Theo said. “Selena. You have to stop now.”

  The exhaustion and despair dragging her face frightened him. He’d exposed her to this; and now he had to watch her drain away, able to provide little but physical support. Talk about creating monsters . . .

  “One more,” she said, her voice thin, her eyes empty, dark pits. “I can’t stop now.” She turned to the channel, where yet another body waited to be revived and released.

  Wyatt and Elliott had taken the elevator to the top of the tank and figured out how to work the machinery that slid the bodies down the chute—for there seemed to be no other more humane way to retrieve them; and Theo stayed with Selena—as she touched and released numb person after person after person from, literally, a living hell.

  More than fifty of them in the last few hours, and he could see the toll it was taking on her.

  Concern and anger spiked, and he grabbed Selena’s shoulders, turning her to get her to focus on him. “I’m sorry I asked you to do this,” he said. “It’s too much, Selena. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” she said firmly, her eyes lighting briefly with determination, despite the whiteness of her face, the grooves near her mouth. “I’m the only one who can do this. The only one.”

  He nodded. “I know. But you need a rest.”

  “No,” she said. “I have to—”

  “Selena. You need a rest. It’s too much.” He’d seen her body shake and jolt with each person she touched, as she took on their pain or life or whatever it was she did. And he knew, clearly, that if they didn’t leave this place, she’d insist on working nonstop until it was done.

  Until all the people were saved.

  Because that was his Selena.

  “We’re going back to Vonnie and Lou,” he said. She opened her mouth to protest, but he overrode her. “Selena . . . these people have been here for a long time, some of them for decades . . . another week or so won’t make a difference to them. But if you keep this up, it could hurt you. Please. We’ll come back and do it little by little.” He squeezed her shoulders, wanting to fold her into his arms, but not quite ready to chance that yet. “Besides that, don’t you think we should rescue Vonnie and Lou from each other?”

  She reluctantly agreed, and they all left the building.

  As he and Lou had done previously, Theo left the security system armed and tweaked it so that it was secure from any other arrival. No one would be able to get in through the massive metal walls—which were five feet thick and topped with electrical wiring—without disarming the code.

  “And since I’m a computer god,” he reminded Elliott modestly, “no one’s going to be able to hack through the changes I’ve made.”

  Wyatt rolled his eyes and ordered Dantès back into the vehicle, where they’d left him during their work inside the wall. Then he climbed into the driver seat next to Elliott, and Theo crawled in the back with Selena, who’d remained silent and white-faced. As they passed through the gate and drove away in the Humvee, Theo couldn’t stop the niggling guilt. But he knew it was the best he could do. Selena simply didn’t have the energy to work through the hundreds of bodies there without a rest.

  He wasn’t going to let her try. He glanced at her, and eased his fingers over to close them over her ice-cold hand. “Vonnie will be glad to see us,” he said, trying to draw Selena out of her silence.

  “If she and Lou haven’t killed each other.” Her lips formed the words softly and he could see her trying to stir herself awake.

  So instead of trying to get her to talk, he slid to the seat’s center and moved his arm around her, nudging her against him. She came easily, and he let her sag against his chest, the delicious, comforting smell of her hair filling hi
s nose. He closed his eyes for a minute, breathing deeply, trying to calm the leaping in his veins.

  When he opened them again, Theo happened to catch Wyatt’s eyes in the rearview mirror. They were cool and emotionless, and then they slid away as Wyatt returned his attention to driving.

  They went on for some time. The sun had begun to set, and night fell—illuminated only by the faulty, downcast headlights. Suddenly, Wyatt snarled out a curse, jerking the wheel. The truck jolted and jounced into what felt like a crater from hell, and then nothing. Dantès whined, sniffing at the air.

  “Fuck,” Wyatt said, out of the vehicle before anyone else had recovered. “Sonofabitch,” came his voice from outside. “Tire’s gone.”

  Theo extricated himself from Selena, who’d awakened and was blinking the sleep from her eyes, and climbed out to check out the situation.

  “I’ll change the tire,” Wyatt said grimly. “We could eat too. I could use one of those sandwiches anyway. I think we’ve still got at least twenty miles, maybe more.”

  “I’ll give you a hand, Earp,” Elliott said, and gave Theo a meaningful look that said, Do what you have to do.

  “Do you need to . . . uh . . . go into the woods?” Theo asked Selena when he noticed she was looking around as she drank from a jug Vonnie had packed them.

  She gave a little smile for the first time since he’d returned. “Yes, please.”

  That smile, weak as it was, went a long way in making him feel optimistic about things.

  “I’ll go with you.” He grabbed a large stick and lit the end of it. “I hear a creek or stream that way. I don’t know about you, but I could use a wash up too.”

  He followed her into the woods and washed up downstream while she did what she had to do. He heard her splash into the creek; and when she came back toward him on shore, he saw that her face was damp and shiny.

  And beautiful. So beautiful and serene.

  She stumbled over a root or something, brushing against him, and he caught her arm. He would never know if she’d done it on purpose, but it was enough of an excuse. This was the first bit of privacy they’d had. Thank you, Elliott.

  “Selena,” he said, turning to face her. He still held the torch and drew it closer so that she could see. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry for what?” She made no move to pull away and return to the camp, and he was grateful for that.

  “For just showing up and expecting you to come and . . . do what you did. Especially knowing how you felt about me.” He tried to find her gaze in the flickering torchlight, but it was difficult, for the shadows. He swallowed, feeling a heavy ache in the pit of his stomach.

  “Oh, Theo . . . I’ve been so confused. I haven’t been able to figure out very much of anything in the last few weeks. What to do, what my calling is—and, why, why all this had to happen.” Her words roughened, but she pressed on. “But when I heard your voice . . . from the kitchen . . . I was so glad you were back. It felt like everything inside me started to move again. But at the same time, I was frightened that you’d just come to . . . to get your things and leave.”

  Warmth and relief blossomed. That explained the removed look on her face. “I’ve missed you. So much.” At last, he reached to touch her cheek, dying to feel the weight of that thick, heavy hair. “And it’s only been a bit more than a week.” He managed to find her gaze then, and held it in the flickering light. “I don’t ever want to leave. Again.”

  “I don’t want you to.”

  Thank God. “I was afraid that you’d never let me near you again, after . . . what happened with the zombies. That you’d be disgusted by me.”

  He shook his head, then dropped his hand away. “Selena . . . you were right. You are right,” he said. “They’re alive. And I’m sorry that it had to take me that horrible experience at Ballard’s lab to believe you. To accept what you’ve been trying to tell me.”

  A little shiny trail had started down her cheek and she hooked a finger into his belt loop, her thumb rubbing against his belly. “It took me that experience today to truly understand it, in my heart too.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I questioned it, even though I’d believed for so long. And after what they did to Sammy . . .”

  Theo nodded. “Selena. Any mother would feel the same way.”

  “But they didn’t know what they were doing, and I knew that. But I couldn’t let my anger go. I had to keep it and stew on it, and let it churn around inside me. And it nearly drove you away.”

  “You would have needed to try a lot harder to really drive me away, Selena. I’m in love with you, if you haven’t figured that out by now. I’m not ever going to leave you.”

  Her face brightened into a glorious smile. “Theo . . .”

  He wanted to drag her up against him and fill his senses with her, but there were still other things to be said. He looked around for a place to put the torch, then shoved its end into the ground so he could have two hands free.

  But before he could speak, she looked at him, focusing her gaze on his. “Are you finally going to kiss me?”

  Well, maybe those other things could wait. “If you’ll let me.” He felt his lips move in a crooked smile.

  “Give it a shot, kiddo.” She gave him a bigger smile and he moved in.

  It was like the heat of summer after a long, chilly winter, gathering her into his arms, covering her lips with his. Warm and familiar, tasting of the sweetness of Vonnie’s tea and of Selena herself. Theo couldn’t hold back a sigh of pleasure. Mine.

  Things were just getting interesting—his hands were finding the swells of smooth, warm skin and his jeans were overly tight in the crotch—when they heard a shout, followed by a scream, terrified and desperate. Definitely human.

  They sprang apart and Theo started off, dragging Selena after him, toward the sound which could be as far as a mile away. Heading back toward their camp, he rushed through the night, gripping her hand tightly.

  The scream muffled and choked, and suddenly, Theo heard the sound of a dog barking. It was a whining sort of horrified bark and then there was the crazy thrashing through the underbrush, through the ruins and the forest as the dog—presumably Dantès—bolted off into the night.

  The dog cut in front of Theo and Selena, and then moments behind him were Wyatt and Elliott tearing into the dark, trying to keep up with him.

  Theo tore after them, Selena stumbling along behind. He heard the sound of a vehicle engine and the frantic barking from Dantès. Shouts and a scream, and suddenly they came upon the scene.

  He didn’t waste time saying or thinking What the hell?—he just took it all in at once and, releasing Selena’s arm, ran over to help. By the time he got there, Wyatt was whipping a man from the front seat of a Humvee and Dantès was barking and whining and scrambling at something beneath it.

  ***

  Remy thought she was dreaming when she heard Dantès’ barking.

  The truck roared to life above her, and she frantically, weakly, tried to grab something to hold on to, to pull herself up from the ground.

  Seattle had come back out from wherever he had gone, and when he tried to drag her from beneath, she’d greeted him with the sharp, rusted edge of a slice of metal. Stabbing at him from under the truck, unwilling to suffer at his hands again—or to be left out in full view for the zombies.

  He’d managed a few solid kicks at her, and she’d gotten him in the arm or maybe even the face with the metal . . . but that was the end of that. He stumbled back and climbed into the truck above her just as something burst from the darkness.

  The engine roared to life just as a dog—it was Dantès—barreled up and launched himself toward the truck. She felt the vehicle jolt from the force of the dog’s body slamming into the door. Weak and terrified, and beneath the vehicle, Remy didn’t see exactly what was happening, but suddenly she heard footsteps running. The engine revved and she braced herself as it lurched forward, dragging her across several feet of ground. Agony scraped down her back and th
ighs, bare from loose, shifting clothing, from the sharp, hard rocks and rubble beneath. Her battered body screamed and ached as she fought to keep away from the massive wheels rolling so close to her.

  There was a shout and a loud thump, and she wasn’t sure what happened next, but the truck jolted to a stop. The door opened, feet were there next to her and there was a grunt and a strangled shout. The next thing she knew, Seattle was tumbling to the ground far beyond the truck.

  Dantès was on him before the man stopped rolling, and Seattle’s high-pitched, terrorized scream was cut off as the dog lunged for his throat. And then there was ugly silence filled only by the crunch of bone and gurgling beneath Dantès’s fangs.

  Remy tried to call out—can anyone see me under here?—but her voice was rough and weak and it came out only as a little wavering thing. She could hardly move.

  Suddenly, a dark figure crouched next to her legs, which angled partway out from beneath the truck.

  “Mother-fuck,” he said, and began to pull her ankles gently out from beneath.

  Remy was dimly aware of other figures coming into view, but she couldn’t see much other than pairs of legs and feet. The man helping her had to bend down half beneath the truck to reach the metal thing to which she was cuffed, and the sucked-in, sharp intake of breath bespoke his disgust and fury for her predicament.

  At last, the cuff was freed, though still around her wrist, and he was helping her to her feet. Remy’s knees wouldn’t hold her, and she sagged, lightheaded and trembling, as he pulled her out and helped her upright. Her vision darkened and spun, and she couldn’t focus. She felt cool air on her skin where it shouldn’t be, and dampness and pain. . . . everywhere.

  “Jesus Christ,” he said, his voice tense and urgent. “Elliott!”

  Remy tried to stand, but she found herself clutching her rescuer and the metal edge of the truck door as another figure separated from the wavering shadows and approached quickly. Her back ached from being dragged only that short bit across the ground, scraped and cut and battered from the other assaults. Her jeans sagged from where Seattle had left them loose, and left her hips bare and scraped. Her stomach rebelled and she grabbed at someone’s warm arm as she puked nothing but bile, retching painfully from the depths of her belly.