“Let’s get out of here,” he said, lacing his fingers through mine.
Music to my ears.
We went deep into the unfamiliar forest before the sickening feeling subsided and before we found any wildlife worth taking down. Large game would feed Mountainside for days, so we searched for it far and wide. Tage was careful to strike fast and take down the buck before it used his antlers on us as spears.
“We can leave him here and come back,” Tage said, wiping the blood from his chin, panting from exertion. My God, that sight would never get old. He was strong, virile, and bloody, and he smelled so good.
“I wish I had a camera for you,” he said, snapping me out of my daze.
“What they used to take pictures with?”
“Yeah,” he grinned. “If you took a picture of me, you might stop staring and drooling...”
I rolled my eyes.
“We need more meat. Where is everything?”
“Overhunting?” he asked.
“Not by Mountainside.”
The smell of decay hit me as soon as his scream did. A shrill but masculine scream came from across a small creek. The Infected stumbled down the hill, righting himself as he splashed through the water. Tage stood up and moved in front of me.
“Can he be saved?” I asked, trying to move around him. Tage blocked me.
“Something’s not right with him.” The Infected man’s shoulders twitched uncontrollably.
“Duh, he’s Infected.” And he smelled like rancid meat and sweat.
Tage shook his head. “He’s also very pissed off. Stay behind me.”
“I’m stronger—”
“I just fed, and you should take some of the buck’s blood right now.”
He was right. I hated when he was right. “Fine.”
I sank to my knees and then tried to puncture the hide of the buck. The fur and pelt were too thick. Straining and pushing him into my mouth didn’t help. “You okay, kitten?” Tage laughed.
“Asshole,” I said around the mouth full of fur and hide.
“Get back!” he yelled suddenly. The rotter charged forward, his chest heaving like an angry bull. As he tackled Tage, he hit the earth so hard, I was sure the ground shook beneath my knees.
The Infected swung wildly at Tage, who managed to roll and tuck his head to the right to avoid his fists. I’d never seen an Infected so strong, but his burst of energy was short-lived. He began to pant and collapsed onto his side, but used what strength he had left to crawl toward me, or so I thought. He grabbed hold of the deer’s leg and pulled it away from me.
Where is the other game? I surged from my mind toward him. He stopped and his pale brown irises focused on me.
How can you hear me, night-walker?
Answer the question.
Realization relaxed the features of his face. He warned us about you.
Who warned you about me? I watched as he tugged the deer closer. Tage growled and tore the leg from the carcass with a quick snapping and ripping noise. Blood sprayed across the man’s face.
“There’s your food!” Tage yelled at the rotter. He turned to me. “Now, tell me what you’re talking about.”
“He said someone warned him about me.”
Tage bared his fangs. “And who was that someone?”
The rotter shrugged and began tearing into the meat of the leg. My mouth began to salivate. I couldn’t take my eyes off of his mouth as it chewed the meat.
“Oh, kitten. Did I forget your snack, too?” he tore the other leg off and handed it to me gently.
As I tore meat from the bone and began to eat with the rotter, he stared at me. It’s true. You’re both.
Unfortunately, I answered. So where are all the animals? Are there more Infected somewhere?
Heal me and I’ll tell you what I know.
I looked to Tage, who must’ve sensed how the conversation had turned. “Do it,” he said. Gritting my teeth, I felt like screaming at him. Why didn’t he do it? He should be able to live a normal life! There was a cure now. Why didn’t he want it?
“Fine.” Before the rotter knew what hit him, I bit his neck. He screamed, high-pitched into my ear, and tried to shove me away from him as every instinct that was still human kicked in. Thankfully those instincts wouldn’t fuel his energy stores. He weakened, and as I eased my fangs out of his neck, he sank to the ground, utterly spent. As the venom entered his body and began obliterating the virus within, he stared at the night sky above us. It twinkled happily with stars that had no right to such a carefree feeling, not when they shone down on such terrible things.
I gave him as much time as I could, but I wanted to know who was spreading the word about me. Roman warned about the repercussions of the knowledge of my being an Infected / night-walker hybrid falling into the wrong hands, and though I couldn’t see how the news would affect anyone else but me, people everywhere had lost their minds. Nothing made sense, so maybe it was completely logical for others to be curious or frightened. I frightened myself most of the time.
Who told you? I urged again.
I don’t know his name, but there was a man with dark hair who walked through the forest days ago. He told me about the cure and about you, describing you perfectly. But when I saw your food, instinct took over. Sorry about your friend.
He’s fine. Tage’s jaw ticked impatiently as he crossed his arms over his chest. He hated not being able to hear what was being said. How old was the man you spoke with?
He shrugged. I didn’t get a good look at him. It was dark. He was human, though, and faster than I could keep up with. I was on his heels for a time, but couldn’t catch him.
He was probably going to try to eat him. “He didn’t see who it was, only that he was male and a fast runner,” I relayed to Tage, and then stood up and brushed my dress off. Damn it. Blood droplets stained the light blue fabric.
“Definitely from Blackwater or the city around it.”
“Are there more of you somewhere?” I asked the young man.
Scattered here and there. Nothing organized for miles.
“Seek shelter. You’re about to feel like you’ve fallen from a cliff.”
He nodded, but didn’t move. Perhaps he was already feeling that way.
“Where are all the animals?”
There aren’t many left, he answered.
Overhunting?
The Manor took a lot of them, and the others fled.
No wonder he was so hungry.
Roman passed out before dinner and while we saved him some, Mercedes and I were starving. She was pensive, staring at the rock walls after we scarfed the meager vegetables down. “What is it?”
She stared at her hands, alternately picking at the cuticles around her thumbnails. “I’m worried.”
“About Roman?” He seemed fine now that his fever had broken. He would recover.
She shook her head slightly. “I’m worried about Porschia.”
“She’ll be okay.” She was strong now.
“Something feels wrong. I can’t shake it. I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and everything in me says to go after her.”
“Stay with Roman,” I said, standing up and grabbing my coat. As I shrugged it on, she stood too.
“I should go. I’m her sister.”
I shook my head. “Stay with him. He needs you. I don’t know what to do for him.” What I didn’t say was that I wouldn’t help him even if he needed it and I did know what to do. If Mercedes had a gut feeling about Porschia, I trusted it. Siblings were close, and the Grant girls had been thicker than thieves before Mercedes fell.
“I’ll be back soon.” I closed the door behind me and stepped into the cool night. It wasn’t winter anymore, but the nights were still cold, especially when the sky was clear. The path from our dwelling led me down the mountain to the gate, and the man and woman guarding it let me pass without so much as a question. Would they let me back inside just as easily? Highly unlikely, unless Porschia could us
e her mind tricks on them.
Which way? From behind me, the woman spoke. “They went toward your right.”
“Thank you.”
I heard her grumble to the man beside her. “Thank me by bringing meat.” While I didn’t have my crossbow, I did have a large hunting knife, and while hand-to-hand combat with an Infected wasn’t high on my list of fun things to do, I was glad to have the weapon with me.
Turning right, I walked into the darkness for several minutes, blindly searching the forest for any signs of Porschia or Tage. However, it wasn’t me who found them. Without warning I felt two sharp fangs at my neck; warm breath fanning my skin, pebbling it.
“Tell me I can, kitten,” Tage pleaded.
“Stop it, Tage. Help me with the deer.”
Tage stepped away from my throat. Porschia held one of the animal’s front legs and Tage grabbed the other. “Where are the hind legs?” I asked. Porschia glanced back into the darkness. “What is it?” I asked curiously.
She dropped the buck and began to pace. “We need to leave tonight. We need darkness and we can be at The Glen by daybreak.”
“What about more meat?”
Tage chuckled. “Well, this is pretty much all we could find.”
“This is it?”
“You know how far we walked to find the coyotes? Well quadruple that.”
I did the math; my calves still burning from it.
Tage turned to Porschia. “Maybe you’re right about traveling at night. Let’s take the kill to the guards and then we can split.”
Lightly grabbing Porschia’s upper arm, I bent in to whisper to her. “Mercedes is worried about you. She has a bad feeling. Maybe you should wait.”
Tage growled at me for touching her but I stood my ground. Porschia looked from my hand to my eyes. “Mercedes doesn’t need to worry about me. Tell her to take care of Roman.”
“His fever broke and he’s resting. We saved him a few vegetables for when he wakes.” I took a deep breath and let my hand fall away. “Have you fed?”
“I just ate part of the deer, so yes,” she answered shortly.
Shaking my head, I asked her again but more directly. “Do you need to feed from me?” Looking to Tage, I added, “Both of you?”
Tage smiled. “How nice of you to offer.” He stalked forward slowly.
Porschia placed herself slightly in front of me. “Numb him first.”
Tage’s smile fell away. “You don’t trust me, kitten? I’m hurt.” He stared at me. “Really, I am.”
Tage did numb my neck before he drank, but wasn’t easy about any of it. When Porschia told him it was enough, he jerked his fangs out and wiped the corners of his mouth where my blood was pooled. I clasped the wound tightly, and though it was already healing from the second swipe of his tongue, it felt like the blood might burst free at any moment.
He looked to Porschia and though I knew it killed him to do it, he said, “I’ll take the deer. Feed yourself and I’ll be right back.” He probably wanted her to snap and drain me while he wasn’t there to stop her, not that he would have if he were standing beside her. He’d probably cheer her on.
She nodded and watched as he lifted the carcass and sped away.
When she finally looked at me, she stared at the wound he’d made. “I’m sorry we have to feed from you.”
“I’m not.”
“You’ve always offered yourself. Why?”
“Because I care about you.”
“Cared,” she corrected. But she was wrong.
“No, Porschia. I still care for you. That never changed. It never will.”
Her lips parted and she stepped forward slowly, lacing her fingers behind my neck and drawing me toward her. Before our lips could brush, she forced my head to the left and licked a warm path up the column of my throat. She drank slowly, fisting my shirt as I held her waist tightly to me. If she wasn’t a night-walker, I’d have snapped her in two.
Tage’s reappearance made her stop. I don’t know if it occurred to her before that to stop, but I wouldn’t have stopped her. If she needed it, it was hers. I was hers.
She sealed the wound and stepped backward quickly. “Thank you for feeding us.”
My head tingled, but I nodded and steadied myself on the trunk of an old oak. “Are you okay? Did I take too much?” she asked, rushing to me as I teetered. I smiled. Porschia was still mine, to a point.
“I’m fine. Honestly. Go. I’ll tell the others. Just come back as soon as you can and don’t go near The Manor Roman keeps talking about.”
She looked to Tage, who ticked his head in the opposite direction. “You have some blood on your lip, kitten. Let me get that for you,” he said, smiling in my direction before kissing her long and deep. I wanted to be a night-walker in that moment. I wanted to launch myself at his throat and tear him apart, one chunk at a time.
Perhaps there was a reason that I was called Tage. Like the fact that Tage rhymed with RAGE, because that was what coursed through every inch of my body—white, hot, tear-his-face-off rage.
“Can I feed you?” What an asshole. Surely Porschia knew his game by now. Right?
His blood on her lips. I had to remove it. Immediately. I wanted to drain him until his eyelashes fluttered and then stilled; until his heart sped in fear and stopped altogether. I wanted to end Saul Daniels. The next time we went hunting together, I wouldn’t waste the opportunity.
“This way,” I barked and sped into the night. Porschia kept up easily.
“I need to give you a nickname,” she said, smiling as we ran together.
“Why is that?”
“You call me kitten. I need something to call you.”
“Stallion works.”
She smiled widely and shook her head. “Don’t worry about Saul, Tage.”
“I’m not.” I was.
“Liar.”
We slowed as the sun began to rise, pausing beside a small creek. We’d covered a lot of land already and I wasn’t sure if we were even going in the right direction.
“How do we know we haven’t passed it, or that we’re even going the right way?”
Tage smiled, hands on his hips. “We don’t. That’s part of the fun, though. Right?”
“Right,” I agreed, stepping over larger stones until I was across. The water trickled musically over them. There were no animal tracks in the mud.
“Let’s walk up that hill,” Tage said, pointing to a taller one ahead. “We’ll have a good vantage point from the crest.”
“Okay.” My breath clouded in front of my face as we walked up until the hilltop became flat and we could see the valley beyond. In the distance was a cross work of houses encircled by a tall, wooden wall. We found it. The Glen was just that – a valley of flat land surrounded by rolling hills, and it was beautiful. A small pond sat just beyond the western wall of the town. Fog hovered above the cool water.
At our feet, the grass was thickening into dark green clumps. It swayed in the wind as we left the forest behind and entered the rectangular patches of earth that had obviously been farmed last season. Why hadn’t they turned the soil yet?
Tage sniffed the air. He turned to me. “It’s cold. There’s no fire from any of the houses.”
No smoke trails rose in the brightening morning sky, yet it was cold outside. It made no sense. How were they able to stay warm or cook?
Tage grabbed my hand. “We aren’t staying. We tell them about the cure and then make our way back to Mountainside.”
I nodded. “I know.”
He watched my expression for a moment and then began walking down the hill. A vee of honking geese flew overhead opposite us, and a shiver crawled up my spine. It was almost as if something was warning us away from this place, no matter how peaceful it seemed on the outside.
I heard the hum of bugs, dancing grass, and the sound of mice and moles burrowing beneath the ground. Birds chirped overhead as they flittered here and there, bobbing up and down in the light westerly wind.
When the land flattened, we could see the wall much better. It was made of large tree trunks, sharpened into points along the top edge. They were almost as tall as the flood wall in Blackwater and had dried and cracked, bleaching in the sun for what looked like a very long time. Why didn’t the Elders ever tell us about the existence of these other places?
It was stupid to think about now that I’d seen Mountainside, but growing up, I thought Blackwater was it; that we were the only survivors of the apocalyptic plagues that extinguished an entire nation, maybe the entire world. It never occurred to me that there were others out there, struggling just as we were and surviving under similar circumstances.
Tage stopped abruptly, his hand tightening on mine. I looked to him. “What is it?”
“We should leave. Now.”
I followed his crystal blue eyes until I saw what concerned him. The enormous gate to the wall we’d been walking beside was wide open. “Maybe they always leave it open?” I said, not believing it myself.
“Why go to the trouble of building one at all if you don’t plan to use it?”
“I was trying to see the bright side,” I added softly.
Tage shook his head. “I don’t think there is a bright side here, kitten.”
“We came all this way. If someone is still here, maybe we can help them get to Mountainside.” If I’d been left alone and someone came who could help, I would hope they would at least offer.
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
So did I.
Squeezing his hand, I tugged him forward with me as we passed through the open door. A crow cawed from its perch on one of the pointed logs above us as we entered into The Glen.
Everything was destroyed. The homes had been ransacked. Furniture and plates and clothing littered what was left of the concrete streets. Windows were broken out and the doors were left wide open. A small whimper came from around the side of a painted-blue home and a small black nose peeked forward.
“Come here. I won’t hurt you,” I crooned, crouching down and holding out my hand. The dog whimpered again and backed away, letting out a bark that echoed against the two homes he was between.
Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4) Page 5
