by Tera Shanley
The most irking thing about the man was his apparent lack of intelligence when it came to the vaccine. Did he have a death wish? Some people did. Or maybe he was one of those fighters who thought themselves invincible. No need for a vaccine if they were going to live forever, right?
She shook her head and tossed the leaf she’d been shredding to the ground below.
“Ca-caaaw,” Seamus screeched from the woods. He got worse at bird calls with age. “Don’t shank me, Mitchell. I come bearing gifts.”
He was the only one on the planet allowed to call her by her last name, and he was only awarded that privilege because he’d called her that since age three. He knew exactly where she came from—understood the community and their tendency to use surnames.
“Well, if you bring me gifts, I suppose I’ll cut back on my pre-dawn shankings, Guist.” She said his last name with a smile. How many times had their fathers called each other the same when they were growing up?
He scaled the ladder and dropped a plastic sack beside her with a smile that begged praise. It smelled of blood, and her stomach rumbled. She’d be embarrassed if it weren’t Seamus who stood beside her.
“I thought so. You haven’t been eating again.”
“Gah, why is everyone so interested in my diet?”
“Hey, I’m on your side. I just want to know what’s going on with you.”
“Marie keeps making me eat cooked food. It’s making me sick. Not being dramatic. I mean, I’m really getting sick.”
Seamus cursed under his breath and took a seat beside her. “I’ll talk to her. You can’t eat food that doesn’t agree with your digestive system.”
“You’re preaching to the choir.” Pulling the opening of the bag away, she smiled at the skinned bunny inside. “Where did you find this? I know you didn’t hunt it down yourself.”
“Mikey Walen does snares outside the gates now and sells his catch behind Ricky’s.” Game meat and moonshine, the black market of Dead Run River.
She’d never partaken in the liquor Ricky made behind his bar, but Seamus had on his eighteenth birthday with some of his buddies. He hadn’t had a drink since as far as she knew. She would’ve paid good money to see him drunk, though.
“You can eat it now if you want. I won’t gag, I swear.”
Tempting if she didn’t know how much it really bothered him. He liked his steak well done, and she was pretty sure that was because he’d grown up sitting with her at mess hall. The Denver colony was more accepting about her diet than the people here. It was a requirement after all. To settle in the legendary Sean Daniel’s colony, colonists had to accept her presence. It was part of the rule sheet Sean and Vanessa gave all newcomers when she had lived there. If new colonists bucked against living in a place with a Dead hybrid, they were moved to Dead Run River.
Thinking of home made her ache so badly, she had to wait a moment to speak. “I’ll eat breakfast when you leave. Right now I want all of the juicy gossip.”
“Soren,” Seamus groaned. “I’m a dude. I don’t keep up with that stuff, and you know it.”
“Give me anything. I’m wilting here. I’ve been banished from Dr. Mackey’s office for three days and hanging out here is becoming seventeen shades of monotonous.”
“Fine, okay, fine. No cure yet, and we’re not any closer than we were months ago. Which you probably already guessed. We’re at a standstill with it. Dr. Mackey needs more tissue from you, so he told me to tell you to come in tomorrow for a sample day.”
“What about the tissue I gave him last week?”
“We blew through it. We followed up on a lead that did nothing but waste what you’d given us. But we still had to try.”
“Did the man live? The one who attacked me?”
“Yes, he’s recovering. Doc said by tomorrow morning, he’ll move him into temporary housing with that big guy, Kaegan. That’s when he wants you to come in so your paths don’t cross. Let me see the injury.”
“It’s fine.”
“Soren.” He quirked an eyebrow and waited.
With a put upon sigh, she lifted her shirt and waited while he studied it under a pocket flashlight.
“No infection,” he muttered. “Did he nick anything inside?”
“Nothing that I could find, and I was thorough when I searched. I got lucky he used a small knife. It also didn’t suck that he was weak and his aim was off. It’ll be nothing but a memory in a few days. Dead powers aren’t as awesome as superpowers, but at least they’re good for something.”
“Yeah, well with the number of times you’ve been injured, superior healing is definitely a win. You aren’t invincible though, Soren. If he’d cut an organ, we’d be having a very different conversation right now. You have to be careful.”
How on earth was she supposed to know she’d be a victim of a stabbing one random day at work? Seamus was just worried though, so she nodded.
“The big guy—”
“Kaegan?” she asked, jerking her head to Seamus.
His lips set in a grim line, and he pressed his glasses farther up his nose. “Yeah, Kaegan. He asked Dr. Mackey about you. He wanted to know why you’re here.”
“And what did Dr. Mackey say?”
“He said you’re here for observation. And that if Kaegan values his life, he needs to get vaccinated or stay away from you completely. He chose staying away.”
“Well,” she said, stomaching the hurt, “why wouldn’t he choose that over a needle prick? He doesn’t even know me.” The gray had lightened to pink on the horizon, and she sighed.
Seamus stared at her for a long time, then said, “It won’t be like this forever. We’ll find the cure, and then your life will be different. Easier.”
“And if the cure doesn’t work on me?”
He turned to the breaking morning light. “We can’t think like that. It’ll work.”
Kaegan hefted another bundle of lumber over his shoulder, and when it was balanced, walked it over to the proper pile and came back for more. He’d been at it all morning, but his shoulders barely complained. He was too lost in his own thoughts to pay much mind to the ache of fatigue. At least pain meant he was alive, and that was more than anyone could say for Trevor and Mike. The loss ate at him. Over and over, he imagined what he could have done differently, but every time was the same. He couldn’t save them. He’d barely been able to get Colten to safety.
The noise of the antique sawmill was the perfect soundtrack to his internal struggle. Blades against wood, the hollow clunk of lumber as it was stacked, the shouted orders from the foreman, and laughter from a trio of workers taking a lunch break. It was all so…normal.
He threw down another bundle and turned, almost running into a woman with auburn hair that had gone gray at the temples. Her bright green eyes studied him for a moment before she offered him a smile. It seemed genuine enough, but failed to reach her eyes.
“Mr. Langford?” she asked.
He pulled a work glove from his hand and offered it. “You can call me Kaegan.”
She frowned at the rough palm of his hand but shook it. “Mel. I’m the leader here at Dead Run River. I’d like to talk to you for a couple of minutes if you can spare the time.”
“Uh.” He hesitated and looked at Gary, the foreman. The man was a badger of a boss who didn’t like workers taking breaks unless it was for lunch.
“Gary,” Mel called. “I need Kaegan for a while. I’ll send him back when we’re done.”
“You got it,” he called with a smile.
Wow. He hadn’t seen Gary smile in the three days he’d worked at the sawmill. He looked at Mel with more interest.
She led him down a less worn path that pointed toward the back of the colony. “How do you like it here so far?”
“I like it fine, ma’am. You’re running one of the nicest colonies I’ve ever set foot in.” It wasn’t flattery but the truth.
“And how long do you plan to stay?”
“Well, I was going t
o come see you here in the next couple of days. Colten and I won’t bother you for too long because there is somewhere we need to be. The reason we left our last colony was to join up.”
She stopped and waited for him to take a place beside her. Pulling a leaf from a low hanging tree branch, she asked, “Join up for what?”
“The war, ma’am.”
“Kaegan, if you call me ma’am again, I’m going to fillet you.”
“Sorry.”
“What war are you talking about?”
“At the last colony Colten and I lived in, a group of fighters came in late one night. They only stayed for a few days, but they said the Deads were migrating. Gathering little by little at the coast near Empalme. Mexico, you know. Migration has been happening for a few years, and this time around, people are starting to talk about killing them off. Taking back the cities when they get the population low enough. That’s just what I’ve heard, but Colten and I, and our team, we wanted to see if there was any truth to the rumor. Have you seen as many Deads around these parts this season?”
Mel pursed her lips. Instead of answering, she asked, “Do you know where Dead Run River got its name?”
“No.” He fought the urge to say ma’am. She seemed nice enough, but her threat sounded pretty sincere.
“When we settled here, the Deads had gathered by the river. Hundreds of them, maybe thousands, and for what we couldn’t ever figure out. They seem to steer clear of water, so why would they all stand there, staring into the rapids?”
Kaegan inhaled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t want you riling up the people here. We have a good life and taking innocents on some crusade because of hearsay is irresponsible and dangerous.”
“Oh, I’m not planning on recruiting. Just laying over until Colten is better and my ankle can hold my weight again. You’ve got nothin’ to worry about from me.”
Her vibrant eyes narrowed. “I make it a point to know everything about everything that happens in my colony. You’ve been asking around about Soren.”
Now it was his turn to clamp his mouth shut. Eyeing the path as they walked, he shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “So?”
“So, it’s natural to be curious about her. Most newcomers are, but that is where it has to stop.”
“I heard you need a new handler for her.”
The silence was filled with birdsong from the branches above. Finally, she said, “You aren’t vaccinated, so why would you ask about the handler position?”
“I’ll keep my distance from her, report everything she does.” Even he could hear the tinge of pathetic desperation in his voice.
“What was your trade before you came here?”
“Fence builder and welder. My size determined it early.”
“Well, that’s why you’ve been assigned to the sawmill. Your talents are best used there.”
“But—”
“No buts,” she said. Spinning, she stopped in front of him. “You are new and don’t know much about Soren, but if you value your life, you’ll stay away.”
Surprise caused him to lean closer. “Are you threatening me?”
A smile curled across only one side of her mouth. “It’s not a threat, Kaegan. It’s a friendly warning from one survivor to another. Have you ever heard of Laney and Derek Mitchell?”
“Of course. Everyone’s heard of them. They’re legends.”
“Living legends, Mr. Langford. Laney and Derek are Soren’s parents. She was raised by them and trained by Finn, Aaron Guist, and Sean and Vanessa Daniels. I assume you’ve heard of them too?” At his nod, she continued. “She has more weapons in her arsenal than you have coherent thoughts.”
“She didn’t use them on Colten when he stabbed her.” His voice was hard and flat.
“That’s because of the muzzle and likely the surprise of the attack. Your first mistake was forgetting what she is.”
“And what is that?” Surely the woman could see she was more than a monster.
“A Dead. I can tell by the look you’re giving me that you remain unconvinced, and so I will share information with you that most of this colony is not privy to, and I’ll trust you to keep it quiet. Soren has killed people. Living, breathing people, and a lot of them. Seven to be exact, four of whom were children.”
His mouth went dry as cotton, and his stomach sank to his knees. Closing his eyes against the sick feeling building in his center, he leaned against a tree behind him like he’d suffered a blow. Children. She’d killed children. She was a monster after all. Everyone had known it, seen her for what she was, but he, the damned idiot he was, had been searching for something more. And why? Why did it matter? Because he didn’t like the way a girl was treated in a colony? Life was hard these days. Everyone died in awful ways. At least she had a colony who accepted her presence, no matter how ungraciously. She didn’t need his saving.
“Can you understand my concern now with you, an unvaccinated civilian, getting too curious about her?”
Unable to speak around the nausea that clawed his middle, he nodded.
“This is the one and only warning I’ll give you, Kaegan. And it’s not your safety I’m concerned about as much as that of my colony. Get too close, she’ll kill you. She seems like a nice person, and I owe her parents a great deal, which is why she is allowed to live here and work on the cure. But the moment you forget what she is, that is the moment you’ll take your last human breath. I don’t want you anywhere near her. The rules are the same for everyone. It’s why we have handlers watching her at all times. Their job is to protect the colony, and their training is extensive. Break my rules, and I’ll throw you out of the front gates so fast you’ll think I’m magic. Have I made myself clear?”
He dragged a hard gaze back to her cold eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Four
SAMPLE DAY. GOOD TIMES.
Soren rubbed a fingertip over the row of scars across her hip. Mom had gone through the same when she was giving tissue to help Dr. Mackey create the Dead outbreak vaccine. And now, twenty years later, she was doing the same for the cure. Hooray for genetics.
The dickhole who’d stabbed her should be long gone from the medical building by now, but just to make sure, she stalled, walking slowly and dillydallying near any shrub that caught her attention. Every bird that squawked in the trees earned a long look from her, and when a squirrel went chattering through the branches above, she stopped and watched for at least three minutes.
The work day had begun, and she’d showered in the middle of the night when the humans were snoring away in their warm beds. The upside to chronic insomnia—she used every drop of hot water in the dark and didn’t have an ounce of guilt for it. It would heat up again by the time the early risers needed a shampoo. The showers, heated by water power leached off the snow-melted rivers in the mountains above, were quite the commodity. The look on settlers’ faces when they moved here and figured out there was hot running water was a treat to watch. Mouths often gaped open, just before a brilliant smile. No matter how plain one looked, a smile instantly added fairness.
The muzzle itched like a tiny swarm of horseflies were eating her jaw, and she reached up under it and scratched.
“Soren,” Marie warned from behind.
“Heifer,” Soren muttered as she ceased the scratch.
Davey and Sara Mathis played in the woods, digging and laughing and Soren smiled at their antics. She’d had the best childhood home. Hours and hours had been spent playing with Seamus and Adrianna, just like these two. Davey started to arch his gaze toward her, and she turned away before she could see the fear that would pool in his eyes, a little trick she’d picked up over her two years at Dead Run River.
Had it only been two years? It felt like so much longer. Homesickness had been her constant companion, but she had work to do that couldn’t be done from the Denver colony.
The look on Mom’s face when she’d left home with Seamus still pulled
at her heart. Everyone in the world knew Laney Landry. How tough she was and how brave. How lethal she was in a fight. They knew she was the origin of the vaccine and of her sacrifices to get it to the masses. But no one knew her like Soren. Mom was tender and caring. Loyal to her family and friends. Soren and Dad were Mom’s whole world. Everything else revolved around them like secondary stars. She’d say, hang the end of the world. We’re the lucky ones because we have each other. It had been all that had mattered for a while.
Mom and Dad had both understood her need to help with the cure and had never begged her to stay. More proof of their love for her. They’d let her go and held back their tears until they waved her off.
If Mom saw her now, muzzled like an animal and cowed by the stringent rules of this place, she’d burn the whole world down. It was just how Mom was. Shame heated her cheeks. God, what was she doing here?
“I swear, man,” someone said through the trees. “An actual, honest to goodness sponge bath. I thought I’d died after all, but then I realized if I had, I’d be surrounded by more flames, and less hot nurses.”
Kaegan’s massive shoulders showed through a gap in the trees, and she froze. Shit. Wide-eyed, she looked for a hidey hole and came up with nothing.
“Move.” Marie’s voice was saturated in impatience.
When Soren stood locked in place, Marie shoved her hard in the back, and she flew forward, landing on her hands and knees in the dirt. A snarl rippled through her before she could stop it. Gripping handfuls of rich soil, she panted, desperate to control the red rage that filled her veins.
“What are you doing?” Kaegan’s voice held steel and something more. Anger?
“None of your fucking business, civilian,” Marie replied. “Move on.”
“Dude,” the other man with Kaegan said. “Is that the chick I stabbed?”
Soren lifted her face to the man. He was shorter than Kaegan, but still tall. Lanky where Kaegan was layered in muscle. His light brown hair was swept fashionably up and to the side like he’d found the time to hand mix homemade hair gel. His eyes were bright blue and a frown tugged the corners of his mouth. Stubble brushed his jaw. His face was all angles, and attractive ones at that.
