Blood Winter

by Diana Pharaoh Francis

  “Your choice.”

  “Not really,” Max said. “But I would be really disappointed in you if you walked away.”

  Gregory gave a short laugh and said nothing.

  “Stop right there!” someone shouted.

  The trio did as ordered.

  “We’re here to help,” Max called. “We can help with your wounded.”

  “We don’t need help.”

  “Yes, you do,” Gregory said as he tried to push between Max and Tyler. They didn’t move. He went to go around, but Max caught him and shoved him back. He made a growling sound and then sighed. “I took care of your enemies, and now I can heal your people. I’m the best chance they have for survival. Do you want them to die?”

  That was met with silence and whispers. More than a few guns were leveled at them. Those that weren’t already aimed in their direction.

  “Who’s to say you won’t kill ’em?”

  “Don’t they know I could force them to let me help them?” Gregory muttered in frustration.

  “People don’t like to be made to do things, even for their own good,” Max said.

  “Besides, you won’t be able to contain them all. Others are going to come along and see what’s happening and start shooting,” Tyler added.

  “I can put up shields.”

  “Whatever you decide, we’ll back your play,” Max said.

  That startled him into silence. Then, “Thanks.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Start walking,” he said grimly. He set his hands on their shoulders, and a green bubble enveloped them.

  “Are we going to be screwed when you let go of us?” Tyler asked as he and Max paced forward.

  “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  “Is that a joke?” Max asked.

  “Couldn’t be,” Tyler said. “Gregory has no sense of humor. Had it removed as a child.”

  “Funny,” Gregory said from behind them. “It would be even funnier if I let you get shot.”

  “I’d take that threat more seriously if you didn’t make a habit of giving mouth-to-mouth to dying flies,” Tyler said.

  “I just killed sixty-three people,” the witch said, his voice strained. “That should definitely make you worry.”

  “Not really,” Max said. “They were monsters. Killing was the only solution.”

  “Do you think so?” he asked quietly.

  “Can’t save a rabid dog, Gregory,” Max said softly. “Innocent people are living because you killed the bad guys. It’s ugly, but it’s true.”

  “Thank you. I . . . I never want to be like Sterling.”

  Max flicked a glance at him over her shoulder. “Not even possible. You don’t have the DNA for that kind of megalomaniac crazy.”

  “I hope not.”

  “We’ll plant you in the ground long before we let you go that route, if it makes you feel better,” Tyler added.

  “That makes me feel a lot better,” Gregory said, and Max didn’t think he was joking.

  “You need to stop right there!” a man shouted. “Do you want to get shot?”

  “Been there, done that once tonight,” Tyler muttered. They kept walking.

  A shot rang out. The bullet bounced off Gregory’s shield. Someone else fired. Then several more.

  “You’re wasting your bullets,” Max called out.

  Apparently, they’d figured that out, because now some had started to retreat, while others stood defensively over the fallen.

  Max veered toward the first body she saw that was still breathing. It was a woman. Her chest jerked, and blood bubbled from her lips. Two men and another woman stood guard over her. One of the men was barely that. He might have been eighteen, but Max guessed he was probably closer to sixteen. The other man was in his early twenties, with curly brown hair and five o’clock shadow. The woman was masculine-looking and was in her early thirties. She had a jutting nose and chin and dark sunken eyes. She was dressed in heavy canvas jeans and a thick coat. As with the others, snow topped her hair in a white cap.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “I’ll tell you,” Max said, “but get out of the way so Gregory can work. Your friend doesn’t have long to live.”

  “My wife,” the older of the two men said loudly.

  “Then you want her to live,” Tyler said, and grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. “Trust me. Gregory will save her.”

  “Oh, God, please, I’ll do anything you want,” the man begged, his shoulders jerking as he began to sob. “Anything.”

  Tyler stared at him, then drew a breath and put his arm around him. “Easy,” he said. “She’ll be okay.”

  “And the baby?”

  Oh, shit. Max put a hand on Gregory’s shoulder. His hands rested on the woman’s chest, and green roped around her, burrowing inside.

  “I heard,” he said before she spoke.

  “All right, tell me who you are,” the woman said again. Her feet were set wide, and although she looked wary, she didn’t look afraid. Points for her.

  “Short version: I’m Max, and he’s Tyler. We’re Shadowblades,” Max said, pointing to Tyler, “and Gregory there is a witch.”

  The younger boy gasped and clutched his rifle tighter at the last word.

  “What’s a Shadowblade?” the woman asked.

  “We used to be human. Then a witch wrapped us up in spells and made us warriors. We’re stronger and faster than you are,” Max said. They didn’t need to know what else she and Tyler could do. Or couldn’t do. Such as survive sunlight.

  Others had gathered around, and several voices repeated the word “witch.” The atmosphere instantly became more tense and more frightened.

  “Witches are servants of the devil,” someone said loudly behind Max. There was an instant murmur of agreement.

  “The Bible says we shouldn’t suffer a witch to live,” someone else said, and the murmuring got louder and more approving. “That includes their demon servants like you.”

  The woman whirled around at that. “If you think that, then maybe you think Benjamin Sterling really is the right hand of God. Maybe you think he’s doing good works. Just who the hell torched the River Market and slaughtered everybody? Who shot at us tonight? The Last Standers, that’s who. And who’s healing us? Not Sterling. A witch. So why don’t you do us all a favor and shut your piehole until you have something worth hearing to say?”

  She turned back to Max. “What exactly are you doing here tonight?”

  “We’re looking for Benjamin Sterling.”

  The woman’s face went white, and her lips pulled back from her teeth. “Why?”

  “We’re going to kill him.”

  She relaxed slightly. “I wish you the best of luck. We’ve tried. He’s a slippery bastard. Did you see what he did here at the market?”

  Max nodded. “We’ll get him.”

  “He’s got himself an army. I hope there are a lot more of you.”

  “Enough.”

  The green light of Gregory’s magic died, and Max bent and helped him up.

  “She’ll live. Baby, too,” he said tersely. “Let her sleep for a while. Who else?”

  The husband stared at Gregory and then dove to the ground to gather his wife in his arms and lift her out of the snow, whispering words of endearment against her throat.

  Gregory moved to the next person. This one was a man, shot in the leg. Someone had bandaged it with a shirt.

  “Go on,” he said as they approached. “I can wait. Others need you more.”

  There were three people dead, and the rest weren’t as bad off as the first woman. It took Gregory another twenty minutes to heal them.

  “Now what?” asked the woman, who’d told them her name was Kara.

  “Can you tell us where to find Sterling?”

  Kara shook her head. “He’s got several places. We’re never sure where he is. He’s made himself some sort of temple up above Mansion Heights and a kind of a commune. The Walmart out on R
eserve is his, too. Lot of his people stay there. Costco, too. And the mall. Several other places. It’s hard to say where he lays his head at night.”

  “Then I guess we’d better get to finding him,” Max said. “Take care of yourselves.”

  “Why now?” Kara asked suddenly.

  “Why now what?”

  “Sterling. Why are you coming after him now? He’s been killing people and taking over Missoula since the Change began. So why are you suddenly interested?”

  “We just found out about him,” Max said. There was no point in lying. “The people he took today at the market are ours.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it.”

  “He won’t have them long.”

  “I hope not. It won’t end well if he does. Good luck, Max. I hope I see you again.”

  Max nodded, and she and Tyler and Gregory headed back toward what was left of the River Market. They’d only gone a few steps when Max’s cell phone rang with a high-pitched sound humans couldn’t hear.

  “What now?” she asked, punching the speaker button so her companions could hear.

  “Tris took off to go look for Kyle and the kids,” came Giselle’s exasperated voice. “Doris Lydman, and Geoff Brewer went with them. I’d loaned Liam and his men a vehicle to get back into town, and apparently those three idiots hitched a ride with them.”

  “When?” Max asked, cold settling around her like armor. Somewhere inside her, she was screaming her fear and frustration. How could they be so fucking stupid? She locked it away along with all of her other emotions. She couldn’t afford to give in to them.

  “Not long after you left. We’re heading out now. We should overtake them before they get far,” Giselle said. “Snow’s deep, though. I’m not sure what kind of time we’ll make. What have you found out?”

  “Not a lot. Sterling’s people came back to finish the job at the market. Gregory planted them in the ground. We’re going to hunt down Sterling’s trail now. Call as soon as you find Tris and the others.”

  “Don’t worry about her.” As if saying that would make any difference at all. “Just find Sterling,” Giselle said, and then hung up.

  Max put her cell phone back into her vest pocket and wordlessly stalked away.

  They picked the trail up at the bridge. They followed Higgins south, Max and Tyler breaking the trail for Gregory, who had a harder time in the deepening snow. It was already knee-deep and drifting deeper in some places.

  Sterling and his mob had stuck to Higgins until Brooks, and then they had exploded in a dozen different directions. Sterling’s scent vanished, along with any hint of Kyle, Tory, or Carrie.

  “What now?” Gregory asked. “Wait,” he said, wheeling around. “Something’s going on, over there.” He pointed northwest.

  Max felt it, too, a burst of Divine magic.

  She hoisted Gregory up in her arms and started into a long, loping run. He clutched her around the neck.

  “Is this necessary? It’s embarrassing, not to mention uncomfortable.”

  “You’re too slow,” Max said. “Now, sit still and shut up.”

  “Careful, or I’ll seal your lips shut,” he said with a dark look.

  “I hate to say it, but I wish we had the angels,” Tyler said beside her. “Even Tutresiel, the bastard. Be nice to have flyovers.”

  “If only Princess Charming would show up and kiss them awake,” Max said.

  “You could always try it.”

  “I’m neither charming nor a princess.”

  “True,” Gregory said.

  “You don’t have to be insulting,” Max said.

  “Is it an insult if it’s the truth?” Tyler asked. “Though you’re apparently charming enough for Alexander. But then, he does have questionable taste.”

  “At least I’m getting laid. Your bed is in deep freeze.”

  “I’m holding out for Magpie,” Tyler said. “Or maybe even Giselle.”

  “You must like blue balls.”

  Gregory snorted, and Tyler laughed. “Okay, you win.”

  “You thought I wouldn’t?”

  They cut through the neighborhood, going in a diagonal. The houses were mostly deserted. Others had metal- and plywood-covered windows. Woodsmoke curled from a few chimneys. Almost everywhere was dark. Cars were parked every which way, some burned out, while others had been torn apart. At one house, they were pulled around in a kind of a fence. Smart, given how much most Uncanny creatures hated iron.

  They hit the railroad tracks after Walnut Street and followed them back toward the river. The entwined smells of animal manure, sewage, and diesel washed over them first. That was followed by the stench of too many people living too close together. Coronas of light lit up the snow, and generators grumbled loudly.

  The trio passed next to what had formerly been a large open industrial area. Now it was fenced with a patchwork wall of cars, sheet steel, logs, and whatever else they’d been able to find. Max could smell livestock and hear various farm sounds from within. Generators throbbed and lights glared inside. Along the top of the wall were tangles of barbed wire and grim-faced guards with rifles.

  Max set Gregory on his feet, and the three of them slid through the shadows below the guards, silent as death. On the other side, they approached McCormick Park. A baseball field on the left side of the railroad tracks was stacked with logs. Much of the timber along the river had been cut down, along with a lot of residential trees. Armed men and women stood guard over it.

  On the right side of the tracks was a living compound. More generators rumbled in the night, and lights glared brightly. Big commercial floodlights illuminated the makeshift camp. Like the livestock pens, it had been turned into a fort with high walls and concertina wire and metal spikes along the top. More guards paced along catwalks just inside the wire. A dry moat containing everything from tangles of barbed wire and rusty saw blades to sharpened sticks and steel fence posts circled it. The moat was about twelve feet deep and twenty feet across. A drawbridge was pulled up on the inside.

  From their vantage point, the three could see inside. There was a mishmash of buildings made of hay bales, logs, rock, and brick, mixed together with tents, camp trailers, and RVs. Porta-potties ran along the south side. Fire pits helped keep those in tents warm. A pump station chugged loudly along the riverside, putting out clouds of black smoke.

  “I hope they’re remembering to boil the water,” Tyler said softly. “Lots of parasites in that stuff.”

  “At this point, that may be the least of their worries,” Max said as the snow suddenly turned thicker and heavier. “They have to survive winter first. Hell, they have to survive tonight.”

  Divine magic filled the air, and Max couldn’t get a sense of its source. It was swelling and felt like a balloon about to burst. Instinct told her this place was the target. But why?

  Near the middle of the compound was a steel hut with guards patrolling around it.

  “That’s gotta be their supplies,” Tyler said.

  Max nodded. Undoubtedly, that was where they kept food, clothing, medicines, and anything else of value they had scrounged. Maybe that was what Sterling was coming after. Or the animals. If it had been her, she wouldn’t have segregated the livestock. She’d have built one big compound and put everything inside together. Those animals were going to feed these people this winter, but separated as they were, it would be a lot easier to hit the livestock and get away. If everything was together, the livestock could be kept at the center with the other valuables, and raiders would have to fight through to get to them and fight to get back out. Of course, with Sterling’s magic and numbers, she doubted there was much these people could do to protect themselves.

  “What do you want to do now?” Tyler asked.

  “These people are in serious trouble, and they don’t even know it,” Gregory said. “We need to help them.”

  “The best way to help them is to kill Sterling,” Max said. “The sooner the better.”

  “In th
e meantime, they’ll die. We could at least warn them, give them a chance to escape.”

  She ran her fingers through her snow-dampened hair. “It’s time we don’t have,” she said, but she’d already made up her mind. “Probably won’t matter, anyway.”

  “So we’ll make time. Dammit, what are we here for if not to save people? If we kill Sterling and everybody else is dead, what’s the point?”

  Magic curled between Gregory’s clenched fingers. He was in a towering rage. Green sparks roved over his skin, and the air around him quivered.

  “Easy, now, Gregory,” she said. “I didn’t say we weren’t going to do something. I’ll go inside and tell them to get ready for a fight.”

  “That’s it? I’m coming in with you to help.”

  “I won’t risk you.”

  “It’s not up to you, now, is it?”

  She gave him a long, steady look. “Actually, it is. I can drop you like a sack of sugar before you can do anything about it. And just so you know, that’s exactly what I’ll do if you don’t promise to stay put.”

  He looked away, scraping his lower lip with his teeth. “Fine. I’ll behave. Just go.”

  She pointed to a small shack next to the railroad. “Wait there. If anyone but us comes for you, fry them.”

  His jaw knotted, and he walked down to the shack and pulled its door open. He stepped inside. “Good enough?”

  “Shut the door.”

  He pulled it closed except for a thin crack.

  Max sighed. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” she said.

  “Really?” Tyler asked. “I knew we were doing it before Gregory opened his mouth.”

  “You’re saying I’m predictable.”

  “As a straight man at a stripper club. How do you want to handle this? Are they going to believe that Sterling’s about to attack?”

  “They’ll probably figure we’re the advance team. They’ll likely shoot us where we stand before we ever get a word out,” Max said.

  “Which brings us back to the question—how do you want to handle this?”

  “We could just jump over the fence.”

  “Yeah, because that won’t scream attack. These people are going to be paranoid, and with good reason. We jump in without an invitation, and they’ll kill us for sure.”