The crowd parted and he spotted Robin. Two men clenched her arms and she flailed, kicking her legs and trying to wrench her arms free. A white-headed figure stepped in front of her, blocking Eli's view.
"That's your third strike, young lady," he announced. "First you steal food —"
"It was for Rooney," Robin spat. "Because you wouldn't let her eat!"
"She was being punished for her lies, just like you are." Timothy paced in front of her, hands clasped behind his back; he spoke with a vicious tone. "Your second strike was sneaking off to speak with those outsiders. And then you do it again, right under my nose."
Jane grasped Eli's hand. "This is my fault."
"And don't think I didn't notice you, too, Susan," Timothy yelled over his shoulder. "There's one strike for you."
People nearby stood silently with their heads down, watching neither Timothy nor Robin. Some wrung their hands and whispered nervously to each other. Others grumbled, their faces screwed up in anger.
Timothy turned around and looked down at them.
"This place doesn't work when people run around disobeying the rules, lying through their teeth—"
"She wasn't lying! Alvin raped her!" Robin screeched.
A hand shot over her mouth; she squealed against the palm, face burning as red as her hair. Hot, angry blood pounded in Eli's ears.
Timothy shook his head. "Throw her in detention. She's out of here in the morning."
"Stop!" Eli hollered. He broke from the crowd and approached Robin's captors. He smiled at the girl reassuringly. "Do you have to do that?"
Hissing, shocked whispers rippled through the room and Timothy spun around to face him.
"Excuse me? Who do you think you are?"
"No one." Eli raised his trembling hands in peace. "It's our fault. We asked the questions."
"Which I specifically forbade you to do, if you remember."
"I do. You also asked what we were doing out there." Eli felt a hundred pairs of eyes digging holes in the back of his skull, asking the same question Timothy did: Who do you think you are? "Truth is, we're looking for someone. And we thought Robin could help."
Timothy's lime eyes flared. "So, you lied."
"Being careful, that's all." Eli backed up, his hands still raised, palms forward. "Simon kidnapped our friend, just like Rooney. We're just trying to figure it out —"
"Rooney wasn't kidnapped," Timothy said. "She ran away."
Robin flinched against the men holding her, their fingers digging deep into her flesh. Eli imagined her outside the walls, running through the woods beside Rooney and Lily and the rest, another faceless victim. His temper shook inside him, but he held it in.
"I ain't lying. And you have to open your eyes." Gasps droned from the crowd. "Someone's kidnapping girls from their homes. They may've taken dozens by now."
Timothy shrugged. "What's that to do with me?"
"Fucking coward," Jane hissed. She lunged at Timothy, but Eli shot his arm up and she slammed against it. Timothy peered down his nose at her with a chuckle.
"We need help," Eli said. "Rooney is one of your people. You can't leave her out there."
Timothy snorted. "Sure I can. She was trouble. And an outsider."
The room fell silent. Eli stared at the man before him, imagining his white mustache drenched in blood and his nose crushed. The image faded in a wave of disgust and sadness. Disgust that someone would abandon a child. Sadness that Timothy had fallen so far as to think it was okay.
He felt the ground slipping beneath him.
"She's a fucking kid!" Jane screamed, and she pushed against Eli's arm.
"And it's none of your business, is it?" the leader yelled back.
Eli turned around to face everyone; dozens of eyeballs stared back and his voice shriveled in his throat. "Anyone want to come with us?" He waited and he hoped someone would answer, but every eye in the room either glared at him with distrust or stared at the floor.
"So, you're gonna let this happen?" Eli's voice rang inside his skull like a clapper in a bell. "It's a dark path, I tell you. Letting people do what they want."
"Are you done?" Timothy barked behind him.
Eli glowered down at the older man, willing him to listen. "No, I ain't. I've told you what's out there." He pointed at Robin. "What d'ya think'll happen to her if you kick her out?" The girl sobbed and Eli's heart broke for her. "You can't —"
"What? You think you're going to save this miserable world?" Timothy charged at him; his wrinkles were pulled tight in a grimace, lime eyes smoldering behind his glasses. The back of Eli's skull prickled. "This is my town. My rules. My decisions. The only thing that keeps it together is order. People out there" — he motioned to the windows, now black with twilight — "need to take care of themselves, like I take care of my people. We're all on our own now."
"Selfishness will kill us all." The words tumbled out of Eli's mouth from an unknown place and without thought.
"Selfishness, you say?" Timothy covered the last few inches between them until their noses nearly touched. "I let you in here. Saved your life. Fed you. I did what I was supposed to. But charity is a rare, precious thing these days. And I only have so much left to give."
Timothy turned to the men still holding Robin.
"Never mind about her right now. Get these people out of my town."
Chapter 21
Rough hands shoved Eli and Jane through the side gate. Something sharp jabbed him in the back and he stumbled into an alley. The gate slammed shut with a metallic clang.
"Fucking assholes!" Jane seethed.
"Keep it moving," a deep voice grumbled from the dark.
Boots shuffled across the asphalt — two pairs, two men, two crossbows. An arrow point poked Eli in the back again. They snaked through the alley to a street cloaked in darkness and turned left. Eli tensed every muscle in his body against a vibrating wave of anger.
"We'll be watching for you two," said a second voice. "Show your faces here again and we'll shoot you on sight."
Eli's temper flared like a violent spasm and he clenched his teeth against it. Listened to crickets chirping, the soft scrape of the men's boots against asphalt, and in the distance, three thin voices screeching into the night.
"Will you at least give that poor girl some food. Weapons — " Jane winced, severing her words. "Knock it off! I'm moving, aren't I?"
They walked in silence to a broad intersection framed in crumbling buildings. There, a voice ordered them to stop. Eli heard the clatter of metal and boots padding away. "Don't move. And don't forget what we said."
Eli spun around as Jane muttered, "Fuckers." He found the men with their crossbows shouldered, backing away toward the courthouse looming velvet black in the distance. Men patrolled the top, silhouetted by the stars. Jane dropped to the ground, picked up her spear and Frank's ax.
"Thanks for the food, you pieces of shit!" Her voice echoed shrilly, and as it faded, a Parasite howled in answer.
Eli took his ax and held up a hand for quiet so he could listen for footsteps creeping through the streets. The wind whistled through shattered windows like breath through broken teeth. A traffic light swayed in the breeze overhead.
"Don't you dare shush me," Jane hissed. Her voice carried down the street again, between the ruins and through the open windows.
Eli took her hand and lugged her down the street. He thought only of finding a boarded house or a quiet cove of trees — someplace safe.
"That asshole," Jane cursed, and Eli flinched at the sound of her voice. "How can he send her out here?"
"Jane, please." Eli tugged his mouth guard over his face and motioned for her to do the same. Jane pulled up her mouth guard, and her voice became muffled.
"Let them come. I want to kill something. Someone needs to be punished for what they do."
They tiptoed down the street and out of downtown and Jane kept ranting about revenge and justice, her words striking Eli like sharp stones. She cursed Simon
and Bill, gave foul names to Timothy and the others, shouting her vulgarity into the stars. At the far edge of town, when the old buildings gave way to convenience stores and strip malls, she aimed her curses at Eli.
"How could you just stand there? Let those assholes drag us out into the street? And Robin —"
"What could I do?"
Jane yanked her hand from his grip and marched ahead a few paces. She was right. As Timothy's men watched them gather their packs with arrows aimed at their heads, Eli had said nothing. They led them down the stairs and through the hallways to the front door, and still he said nothing. Jane screamed and flailed and aimed her tiny fists at their shoulders. But Eli did nothing, because he was trying not to kill them. He knew that violence would protect the other girls in Elsberry, overthrow Timothy, get justice for Rooney, punish the man who hurt her.
He could help them, but only with blood and pain.
"You did what you always do," Jane yelled. "Cower and do what you're told. And now those girls will pay for it. I thought you'd do anything for Lily. For Frank."
Eli clenched his fists tighter, but not because he was angry at Jane. A deadly energy shivered through his body, waiting to explode, and he willed it to burn away.
They reached the edge of town, where the strip malls ended and the traffic lights thinned. They passed a Ford dealership and a couple gas stations and up ahead, moonlight traced the lines of houses, unfolding ahead into trees and open land.
"When you don't act, something worse happens."
Eli walked ahead of her.
"Don't fucking ignore me!"
Her hand grabbed his arm roughly and spun him around; they stopped in the middle of the street in front of a small boarded house half swallowed by vines. Jane's green eyes, the ones now so familiar and comforting, blazed upward at him through the dark.
"Please, stop. I have reasons."
"Enlighten me," she spat.
Rage boiled off her like a heat haze. Jane was never one for subtle emotions; it was one of the things he loved about her. But her gaze made him feel small and hated, and he was desperate to fix it.
"I went too far once," he said. "I don't want to go back."
The fire in her eyes and voice dimmed. "What the hell does that mean?"
Eli stroked the line of her jaw with his finger. Kissing her crossed his mind, but he held back. "It means I'm not a good man." It was the best place to begin.
"Yes, you are."
Eli shook his head and dropped his hands to hold hers. The minutes ticked by — the last moments he'd be her friend. What should he tell her first? He couldn't decide. He sucked in a breath, tried to find the right words. Then he gazed into her face and chose to tell her nothing. Losing Jane was too much.
"Eli ..."
A whistle, high-pitched and taunting, drifted from down the road and Jane's voice faded to a feeble groan in her throat. A second whistle joined the first, then a third. They created a dissonant, eerie song, the notes scraping Eli's bones like nails on metal.
Shapes rose from the dark.
The Parasites emerged from their hiding spots between the rusted cars scattered along the road. One hooted, then another, and another. One shape became two, then three, then four.
They traipsed down the street, shoulder to shoulder, looking like any other man. Their clothes were fairly clean and only a little ripped. One swung a baseball bat, another a pipe wrench, the third twirled a rope, a fourth held a net. Eli could've mistaken them for Frank or Timothy or Amos.
Their black mouths sprung open and heads fell back, releasing raspy, primal screeches. A shiver spread from the top of Eli's skull down his spine.
Eli pointed to the small house near the road. "Hide in there."
"No," Jane said.
She lifted her spear to shoulder height, but he grabbed her arm and dragged her off the road, through a weedy ditch, and to the front door of the house. She screamed and fought, but he was too strong. He wrenched the door open and threw her in.
"Leave out the back. And run."
It was too dark to see her face, but her voice burst from the floor. "To hell with tha —" she began, but he shut the door and cut off her voice.
He turned around. The Parasites stood in a line along the edge of the road, waiting. The wilderness stretched to the right, the abandoned town to the left. Above, the moon disappeared behind a cloud and the Parasites fell into shadow.
Eli checked his mouth and neck guards. He adjusted his gloves and gripped Frank's ax until his knuckles hurt. He let the wave of anger explode.
He raised the ax to shoulder height and ran.
The Parasites spread out. The one on the left sprung forward and down ditch toward the house. Eli ran straight for a few feet, then pitched left and hurled his body against the creature. It crunched to the ground.
Eli vaulted the ax into the air. It sliced through the bony chest with a wet crunch. An exhilarating rush swept through him like a bracing wind, but he feared infected blood had sprayed him head to toe.
Thirty seconds.
Three shapes flitted past. The moon popped back out into the velvet sky. Silver light traced bony shoulders, the flapping of a jacket. Eli gripped his knife, swore a prayer, and threw it. The blade sunk into the creature's neck. It fell face-first into the grass.
Eli stooped low and crept, searching the dark for the other two. A voice in the back of his mind asked how many seconds had passed, wondered how it feels when the Parasite burns through your body.
Feet swished across the grass. The creature grunted. Eli turned toward the sound. A yellowed face rushed toward him and his heart plunged in fear. Every detail of its face sharpened: a scar across its eyebrow, a spiderweb tattoo on its temple, a shark-tooth necklace around its neck.
Eli ran.
Chase me.
He climbed back up to the road and ran out of town and into the woods. Two pairs of footsteps smacked the broken pavement behind him. Lecherous cries erupted from the Parasites' throats and stalked him down the road.
Chase me.
Again, a voice wondered what would happen if he was infected. Would he join his pursuer? Yes. He'd run alongside this Parasite and they'd go after Jane together. Eli wouldn't recognize her, crouched alone in that dark house. She'd be prey and he'd infect her in a heartbeat.
The Parasites screeched over his shoulder and Eli powered his legs into a sprint. He ran down the road through a gathering forest as the moon dipped behind a cloud again. Blackness swallowed him.
A whipping sound cut the air. Something rough scraped across his face, down his shoulders and chest to his middle. It cinched hard against his stomach and he was jerked down onto the road. He landed on his back. The force squeezed his middle again and he was dragged across shards of asphalt. He glanced at his feet, spied the rope. At its end — a Parasite.
The creature pulled at the rope and Eli shot up to sitting and found himself right in the Parasite's face; its fellow hovered in the background, moonlight tracing its skeletal figure. The Parasite's bony nose touched his and it sucked in a deep, shuddering groan, dead eyes rolling back into its skull. Eli tried to find the person inside. The forgotten soul.
He saw nothing. No spark of life. Just death.
A hand came up and pulled down the guard covering his mouth.
This is it.
Eli sat there helpless, every organ in his body and inch of his skin shivering, waiting for it to infect him, wondering if he'd be able to slit his own artery. A rattle purred in the Parasite's throat. It licked dry, plump lips. Eli's eyes fell on the spiderweb tattoo, the shark tooth, the scar.
Do you think they can be fixed?
"Hey!"
The husky voice cracked through the silence. Eli peered over the Parasite's shoulder and saw Jane standing there, spear in hand. Dread sliced through him as the second Parasite grinned.
"That's right," she cooed. "Don't be shy ..."
Jane backed away slowly, raising her spear to shoulder height.
The second Parasite spun around and tore after her, howling. She ran.
"No," Eli whispered.
He clasped Frank's ax. Held his breath, lifted the weapon, and heaved it sideways. It thumped into the meat of the Parasite's calves and its mouth split open in a scream. Eli had a glimpse of rotten yellow teeth as sour, damp breath filled his nose. Eli struck with the ax again at the other leg. The Parasite crashed to the ground.
Eli rushed to his feet. He squinted and spied Jane's figure vanishing down the road, the Parasite on her heels. Its fellow whimpered and clutched its bleeding leg, dead eyes gazing up, filmed in fear and pain, not at Eli but at the stars. Eli covered his mouth and brought the ax up again. With all his strength, he cleaved its face with one swipe.
His rage vanished in a rush, like blood draining from his body. Exhaustion and remorse filled the void. In the quiet and stillness, Eli unsheathed his knife and closed his eyes. He couldn't chase after Jane until he was sure.
He counted to thirty under his breath, ready to nick an artery.
Crickets chirped. Wind jostled leaves. An owl hooted.
At thirty, he opened his eyes to see stars twinkling along the tree line toward Elsberry. He couldn't see Jane, but he heard distant wails of pain.
He ran to them.
The road was empty, but on the outskirts of the town, moonlight glinted off a dark, wet smear of blood. Eli stopped and stared at the puddle. If it was Jane's, she was gravely wounded. If it was a Parasite's, she could be infected.
Eli's heart thumped hard against his ribs as he followed the blood trailing down the road and off into the weeds along the shoulder. In the darkness, he couldn't see where it led and he squinted into the black woods, looking for signs of her. Branches jostled softly in the wind.
A volley of howls and yips drifted down the road from the direction of Elsberry.
With a sick dread in his stomach, he listened for Jane's voice among them.
Chapter 22
A New America Trilogy (Book 1): The Human Wilderness Page 17
