A New America Trilogy (Book 1): The Human Wilderness

by S. H. Livernois

  Frank.

  If only Eli hadn't left him alone, or his arrow had sunk a few inches lower, or he'd run faster, Frank would be alive and maybe Lily would be with him now. Instead, Frank was gone and Lily had been dragged back into the woods.

  It was all his fault.

  What if I can't save her, either?

  Footsteps thumped hollowly down the stairs. A second later, Jane crept into the room and stopped just beside the couch. Firelight revealed the strain on her face: the splotchy cheeks, the drooping eyes, the hunch to her shoulder.

  "Did you sleep at all?"

  She shook her head.

  "You look cold. Come closer to the fire."

  She sat next to him and hugged her knees to her chest, tears glimmering on her cheeks. Eli searched for something comforting to say, something that would take away Jane's pain, but words failed him. So he let Jane sit in silence, and eventually she closed her eyes. Eli did the same and listened to the fire snap and the house groan. A minute or an hour may have passed before Jane broke the silence.

  "Do you think the infected got her?"

  The edge in Jane's voice was gone — she sounded younger, afraid.

  "No."

  "Part of me hopes she is. Then they can't hurt her."

  Eli tried not to picture Lily as one of them, her dark eyes dead and unable to recognize him. He imagined her voice howling into the sky.

  "You can't mean that."

  Jane sniffled and more tears streamed from her eyes, now swollen and red. "I came out here to save Lily from being someone's plaything. I wanted more for her than what this rotten world has to give... But it's over now."

  Eli's own troubles, his guilt and his fear, melted away. He had to stop thinking of himself and be strong for Jane.

  "She's okay. Maybe it's not what you think —"

  "It's exactly what I think," Jane barked. Her tears went dry, her lips pursed. "I know what men do —"

  Wind whistled through the drafty windows. Jane turned away from him and hugged her legs closer to her body. Soon her shoulders trembled — she was crying. The sight tore a hole through Eli's chest.

  "Have I ever told you about my ma?"

  Jane looked at him, chin propped on her knees.

  "Her name was Celeste. Tiny woman. Had bird bones." Eli smiled as she swam before his eyes. She looked like him: long nose and black curls, though hers were frizzy. "Us kids, my father, were her life. She did everything for us.

  "My father never said thanks. Never appreciated her. Pushed her around. He was ..." Eli pictured the stern face, the buzz cut. "Hard. Mean. Hated weakness. But Ma always took it, no matter what. Accepted things. Told herself that's how it was. She never fought back."

  Jane's face brightened and she wiped her eyes. A muscle in her jaw flexed. Eli slid down the couch and put a hand on her arm.

  "I ain't ready to give up. To say this is the way it is, to let this — whatever this is — just happen without a fight."

  Jane gazed at a spot on the floor. She swallowed hard and tears soaked her eyelashes but didn't fall. "And you think we can find her now?"

  Eli pictured the stranger in the woods, the way he rose a finger to his lips and left them to the Parasites. Heard the swish of his arrows, the echo of voices drifting through the trees. Their enemy was deadly and numerous, and they knew they were being followed. Eli had lost the trail and Lily was probably being watched too closely to leave clues.

  The truth was, Eli didn't know how they could find her. His worries didn't matter, though. He had promised Frank.

  "Sure, sure."

  Jane nodded, released her legs and took a deep breath. Eli let himself stare at her while she watched the fire, so close to him. The wisp of sandy eyebrows, the soft curls of short hair, the freckles like constellations. He reached up and touched her cheek, connected the freckles with a shaking, uncertain finger. Jane put her hand on his. He thought she'd pull his off, but instead she squeezed.

  "Jane."

  Her irises were deep emerald today, her lids heavy. For a second Eli forgot that he didn't deserve her. But he finally admitted that he loved her.

  He pulled her lips to his. She made a surprised sound but didn't pull away. Blood thrummed in his ears, drowning out the world. He opened his mouth to breathe her in. Slipped his tongue between her lips. They parted and he tasted her for the first time. He stroked the nape of her neck and she buried her fingers in his hair and traced the line of his jaw, her calloused fingers like a cat's tongue on his skin.

  Jane's lips quivered over his and abruptly seized closed. Hands pressed against his chest. Their mouths and bodies parted.

  "I can't," she said.

  Jane stared at the floor, out the window, the wallpaper — anywhere but at Eli's face. Beneath his hands, her arms and shoulders shivered; the quake rippled through her body and she brought an unsteady hand to her forehead.

  Eli whispered an apology for taking advantage of her. For kissing her when she wasn't ready. He smiled uncertainly. A half minute later, Jane coughed, shook her head and shoulders. When her face met his again, it was steady. She dove into her pack, pulled out a small package covered in fabric, and handed it to him.

  "Promise me you'll eat."

  "Sure, sure." Eli stood, feeling suddenly cold. "I need some fresh air."

  He thudded down the hallway to the front door and moved the table they'd used to block the door. For brief second, he glanced back at Jane — she laid back on the couch and propped her feet on the armrest, dropped her head onto the pillow. Eli touched his lips, where her kiss still lingered, and wondered why she shivered and how he could fix it. Then he swept outside and shut the door softly.

  Outside, a breeze kicked up a foul stench: the Parasites' sour sweat, blood, and waste. The breeze calmed and flowers scented the air. Eli stepped off the porch and followed the sweeter smells downwind, weaving around the corpses. He found on a spot a few feet from the house and sat on cold grass.

  The shadows of twilight had settled on a green landscape he vaguely remembered from the day before: The driveway on the left, the road at the bottom of the hill, slicing through brambles and bushes. And beyond that, the green carpet of forest, the open squares of abandoned meadows.

  Years ago, lights would've flickered on to chase away the gathering dark. Eli searched for campfire smoke or the flicker of flames, but the land stretched empty every direction. There were no signs of life anywhere.

  Eli unraveled the package Jane gave him; it was bread and jerky. He scarfed it down even though he didn't feel hungry. When he was done, he looked back at the yard. Corpses poked up from the tall grass and the moonlight grazed their forms — an arm here, a leg there. He counted six of them, arrows jutting from the bodies like gravestones. They would lay there and molder, just like Frank, lying alone in the forest where they left him. The world would chug along like he'd never existed.

  Good people are capable of evil things. It doesn't make them evil, too.

  Would he ever find the peace that Frank did? Would he find a woman to love him, a family to take care of? Did he even deserve those things after all he'd done?

  He made his choices, like everyone else.

  No one could blame the infected for hunting humans, no more than you could blame a storm for felling a tree. But people could choose. Amos chose to sentence Robert to a life in the dirt. Simon chose to kidnap Lily. Eli made a choice outside the courthouse.

  Shoot anything that moves, the man had told him. Eli obeyed so he wouldn't be shot instead.

  A man's character was built from his actions. Frank had taught Eli that. What did that make him? There was only one answer: a man who didn't deserve Jane or any other woman, who didn't deserve a family of his own.

  The moon peeked through a hole in the clouds. Silver light poured over the yard and across the Parasites' dead limbs. The crickets chirped, the air chilled. Eli climbed to his feet and picked around the graveyard; the breeze fluttered over the corpses and the stench stung h
is nostrils again. Blank eyes stared at the sky without seeing, the stars reflected in their black pupils. Lily's voice purred in his ear.

  Do you think they remember their names? Or are they lost forever?

  He'd told her no one was ever lost, but how could that be true? He'd wanted to tell her Parasites weren't the enemy, but people were. People like him.

  The house shone like a dull pearl over the hill, black strands of grass swaying to and fro at its base. Eli climbed toward it and for a few steps, thought only his feet rustled through the tall grass. But there was another sound, a second set of feet. Then he saw its source: a shape emerging from a bush at the edge of the property, its leaves fluttering.

  Eli stopped, stared at the shadowed shape and the straight cut of open land between the line of brush and the house. The figure flitted across the space, crouched low like an animal, and took the form of a man.

  His shadow raced past the house and rushed up the steps. Eli was certain his eyes were playing tricks on him. And his ears: the door groaned open, slapped closed.

  Eli raced up the hill and the steps. Pressed his hand and ear against the door, splinters poking his skin.

  Feet scraped against the floor. The couch creaked as Jane shifted her weight.

  Eli unsheathed his knife.

  "Well, hello, darling," said a deep, growling voice inside.

  Chapter 15

  Jane's footsteps slammed on the floor.

  "Who the fuck are you?" she hollered.

  Eli grabbed the doorknob with one hand, squeezed his knife with the other.

  "Put down that spear, sweetheart," the man inside ordered.

  Eli turned the doorknob slowly, quietly. He popped the door open and slid inside.

  "Not one step closer, or I'll gut you," Jane seethed.

  The stranger chuckled. "You're a feisty one, aren't you?"

  One set of footsteps advanced, the other retreated. There was a fleshy thud. The man grunted and hollered. Eli sprinted down the short hallway toward the sounds. The spear clattered to the floor. Jane roared. Another fleshy sound and a grunt. A body fell to the floor with a smack.

  Eli raced into the living room, knife raised.

  "Don't fuss now," the man cooed, his voice strained with the effort of the fight.

  Eli skidded to halt in the living room. A frantic scene was lit by firelight: a man in the middle of the room, bent at the waist over something below him, cursing and grunting. Jane's arms shot up from the floor.

  "Get your fucking hands off me!" Jane's small fist struck the man's neck right under his ear.

  "I said —" he grunted "— don't fuss."

  Eli rushed forward. The stranger peered over his shoulder. Black eyes flashed. Jane was belly up on the floor, a smear of blood under her nose. The world went black in a flash of light. Eli fell to the ground, hard. A woman screamed, far away.

  Eli's head began to clear. A flash of hands. A rope. Jane, her eyes unfocused, a cut bleeding on her forehead. A club laying on the ground beside her.

  The stranger pulled Jane's limp body up by her tied hands, yanked her in front of him. Eli scrambled to his feet, gripped his knife. Jane's gaze focused, found Eli. The stranger rested his head on her shoulder, his blooded, sweating face grinning.

  "Keep away, friend," he hissed.

  Eli instantly recognized the black eyes. Now he saw the rest of his face: buzzed hair, a thin mustache, cleft chin. The man in the woods who'd left them to the Parasites.

  "I knew you'd be trouble. Don't be foolish, now." The man drew out a short knife, squeezed Jane around the shoulders and jammed the blade under her jaw. She craned her head back, holding back a scream that convulsed in her throat.

  Eli couldn't think. In a second, she could be dead, and he would watch it happen. Every muscle in his body seized with a hot anger, an animalistic need to protect Jane.

  "Let her go," Eli said uselessly.

  The man smiled. "Don't think I will, friend. And I'll be making the demands around here, if you don't mind."

  Jane wrenched an arm away and heaved an elbow at the stranger's stomach, but he never lost his grip. He nicked Jane's skin, right above a flexed cord in her neck. Eli lunged.

  "Stay where you are." The stranger's nostrils flared, his lips pulled back in a deadly grimace.

  He stopped and Eli put up his hands, raised his eyebrows at Jane, willing her to stay still, forcing calm against a quake of violent rage. A crimson drop of blood pooled at the cut in Jane's neck, then ran in a thin needle down her skin.

  "I don't want to kill her, but I will if you don't behave."

  The stranger nudged closer to Jane's ear. Eli nodded at her with a small smile that said it would be okay. To the stranger, he said, "What do you want?"

  "It's simple, really. I'm taking this here woman — what's your name, sweetheart?"

  Jane flinched away from him, breathed deep and steady.

  "You ain't taking her anywhere."

  "Oh yes, I am." He nuzzled Jane's ear. "And I have orders to kill you, just for being too nosy."

  Eli scowled. Orders.

  "Where's Lily?"

  The man rolled his eyes back. "Lily ... Lily." He smirked. "I think I know that name."

  Jane's eyes sparked. "Kill him, Eli."

  He glowered at her and gripped his knife. No.

  "Forget about me and kill him."

  "Kill me?" The stranger threw his knife; it whizzed past Eli's head and slashed his earlobe, then pierced the wall behind him. A second later, the man whipped out a second blade and brought it to Jane's throat.

  "Okay, okay." Eli sheathed his weapon. "Not so fast. Talk to me. Who are you?"

  "Don't worry about who I am. That's not important." He gestured at the ceiling with his knife. "I am one of many."

  He yanked Jane back another step. Eli advanced, a searing spot of heat building in his chest. His fingers twitched, ready to form a deadly fist, but he kept them open in peace.

  "Many of who?" Jane asked. "Perverts kidnapping girls?"

  The man's mouth shot open, eyebrows flicked upward. "Kidnapping? No — we're giving them purpose and value." He drew close to Jane's neck and whispered in her ear. "Don't worry, darling. I'm going to take you to an amazing place."

  Jane grit her teeth. "Fuck you."

  The man sneered at Eli, then pricked a spot under Jane's ear with the tip of the knife; he gave it a twist. She grimaced but never cried out. Eli's anger rippled down his spine.

  "Kill him now." Jane's voice cracked with pain.

  "I suggest you step aside, Eli." The man removed the blade, and Jane screeched. "This is for the greater good."

  "Don't let him take me anywhere." Her voice was desperate, her face lined in terror. Blood streamed down her neck. The ball of anger in Eli's chest cracked and hot rage surged through his veins.

  He leapt. Rammed his shoulder hard into the stranger's chest, Jane's arm. They all crashed to the ground. Eli landed on top of him; Jane toppled beside them on the floor, and she dragged herself away. The stranger flailed like a captured fish and Eli punched him hard in the jaw.

  He laughed and Eli punched him again. Blood poured from a split in the stranger's lip and he chuckled again.

  "You're fighting a losing battle, my friend."

  "That's not what it looks like to me," Jane said. Her spear jutted over Eli's shoulder, its sharpened iron point inches from the stranger's face.

  "No, Jane."

  The man laughed again.

  "Why not?"

  "Because he could know something."

  "You'll have to beat it out of me," the stranger said. "And even then, I might be lying..."

  An urge, deadly and fierce, compelled Eli's hands to reach for his knife and slice it across the man's neck. Fighting the urge was like running through water. He tried to steady his heart and his temper. Then pain cleaved his world; the man's knees came up between Eli's legs and he fell to the floor. Something slashed through his side, and for a moment Eli was lo
st in the pain.

  The stranger clambered to his feet. Jane's spear clanged to the floor. She screamed. Bodies crashed to the ground around him. She sucked in a mouthful of air with a violent, shrill gulp.

  Eli clutched his wound to ease the pain. His view cleared. The man was on top of Jane. She kicked her legs and pummeled his back with her fists, screaming. The stranger clutched her hair and smacked her head against the floor twice. She quieted.

  Eli forgot the throbbing in his side. "Jane!"

  He flew through the air. Pounced on the man's back, tore him away from her. Black eyes stared up, shocked. Eli sunk a fist into the face with a crunch. The man smiled. Eli's temper jostled free. He struck again and again and a side of him enjoyed the rush of inflicting pain. That side wanted to continue until every bone was broken. Until the man was dead.

  Then Eli remembered he couldn't kill the stranger. He forced himself to stop and unsheathed his knife, pressing the tip into the man's thigh. Tried not to slice it through his flesh and into the artery underneath.

  "If I nick right here you'll bleed out in a minute. So don't you dare move."

  The voice didn't sound like Eli — it was husky, deadly. The voice of another man. Jane had come to and was watching. Eli didn't know for how long. The stranger lay back on the floor, hands facing upward by his head.

  "You got it, friend."

  "Tie him up, Jane."

  "Eli —"

  "Tie him up, I said."

  Eli pressed the knife into the man's leg. He winced and whimpered, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Eli delighted in the sound. Jane tied the stranger's wrists and ankles, and the man watched as she worked. An amused grin worked at the corner of his mouth as his gaze raked her body from head to toe.

  When she was done, Eli grabbed the man by his jacket, pulled him to his feet, and hurled him onto the couch Jane had been lying on. The man smiled and entwined his fingers, smiling broadly through bloodied lips. Eli ignored him and took Jane's hand to pull her up.

  "Are you okay?" He palmed her cheek with a shaking hand, traced his fingers around the tender cut under her jaw.