by Keri Lake
“’The hell’s the fun in that?”
“Do you know what’s behind those doors? Do you have any fucking clue what those things can do?” the man asks.
Cadmus lifts his arm and twists to the side, revealing a scar of three claw marks that extends up his ribcage and across his stomach. “Too well, I’m afraid.”
“Why would you consider something so crazy, then? Put us all at risk?”
Cadmus glances to me and back. “Because my brother was locked inside along with them. And he sure as hell doesn’t belong there.”
Leather Vest shakes his head, his lips downturned with disgust. “I hope Rhys kicks the everloving shit out of you.”
“Rhys, huh?” Cadmus hammers his fist into the man’s face, knocking him out cold. “Now I know what to put on his gravemarker.”
Chapter 8
Wren
After a half day’s rest, I decide I can no longer stand being idle anymore, and exit the cave for some fresh air. The cramping has subsided, for the most part, and I haven’t bled since the night before.
Rhys has gone off with Rigs and Tinker to scout the perimeter of our camp for the upcoming evening, otherwise he’d probably be giving me crap for getting up and around so soon.
I was never good at sitting still, though.
Women bustle around, preparing the next meal for everyone, and they smile at me as they pass. When I first arrived, they were leery and untrusting of the girl who came from the other side of the wall, and now, I feel like one of them. So much so, I sit down beside one of the elders and grab a knife set out to peel the pile of potatoes in front of her. As I lift one to begin my task, she places her hand on mine and shakes her head.
“Go rest. I’ve got plenty of help.”
Mara, a bit older than me, perhaps in her thirties, sits down beside me and carefully slides the knife from my hand. “I get up for one second, and you’re already stealing my job.” Her belly sticks out quite a bit more than mine, though I’m certain she’s only a month, or two, further along. As I understand, she was impregnated by an Alpha back in Calico, rescued from one of their experimental wings there. Her once-shaved head, already growing in with stubble and showing off the number tattooed on the back of her neck, is a sure sign she’s passed through Calico.
Chuckling, I pull my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “I feel so useless.”
“Of course you do.” Brow raised, Mara points the knife in her hands toward my belly. “And yet, your insides would argue differently. Can you imagine the effort it takes to prepare for a life? Far more than this stew, I can tell you that much.” With a smile, she goes back to her peeling.
“Speak for yourself! I’ve damn near cut myself nearly three times on this blade,” the older one to my left complains.
“Says the woman who bore seven children in her life.”
“Seven?” I can’t even imagine such a thing. The average woman in my generation is lucky to bear three children, let alone seven.
The older woman, with long silvery hair, stares off and sighs. “I’ve had a lot of sex in my day. Probably why my body refuses to stop ticking now.”
Both Mara and I laugh at that.
“Where are they now? Your children?” Mara tosses a peeled potato into an oversized pot.
The elder woman’s chest expands with a breath, as she goes back to peeling the potato. “In the grave. Every one. One at birth, two when the Dredge first hit, three by accident, and one … by Ragers. They dragged her off when she was only fifteen years old. Days, we searched for her. Or her remains, as it were. Never found her, though.” Her brows knit together in a frown as she carves away at the potato. “Of all my children, her death troubles me most.”
She likely wasn’t killed right away. My guess is that she was taken back to a nest and impregnated with their spawn. I’ve only seen a nest once, never the children born to Ragers, but the agony of the poor woman suffering through such a pregnancy is something I’ll never forget. One I witnessed when I was dragged to a Ragers’ nest before Rhys came to my aid.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t be going on about such somber things.”
“No.” I shake my head, elbows resting on my knees. “We do them a disservice by keeping silent about it. What was her name?”
“Lysandra. I always called her Lissie. Missy Lissie.” She blinks as if to hold back tears and smiles. “Sassy little thing.”
“I love that name. Lysandra. So pretty.”
“Thank you, dear.”
“And when are you due?” I ask Mara, watching her reach over her belly for another potato. Batting her hand away, I nab one for her.
“I need to do these things myself.” There’s an air of amusement in her voice, but she wears a serious face. “My child will be fatherless, after all. I’m due in four months time, according to Haseya.” She looks to be nine months already, and I have to will myself not to look surprised.
“He was an Alpha like Rhys.”
“He was an Alpha, but nothing like your dear Rhys.” She slows her peeling and lowers her gaze. “A brute, if I’ve ever seen one.”
“You didn’t want this pregnancy.” I’d venture to say half the pregnancies of my generation have been unwanted, many the result of rape, due to the scarcity of my gender.
“It shames me to speak of an unborn child that way, but no. I didn’t ask for this.”
“Mara, have you had any pain?”
“Every day. This child stretches me in ways that don’t feel natural, and it’s as if my body is desperate to accommodate it. Unbearable, at times.”
Perhaps that’s why Haseya wasn’t troubled by the small bit of blood. It’s possible everything I’ve suffered, she’s seen before.
Mara pops a piece of potato peel into her mouth and shakes her head. “Nothing compared to what I suspect the birth will be, though, so there’s no point in complaining.”
“Having babies is a different experience to what I remember,” the elder woman says, tossing another potato into the pot of water. “I feel for you both.”
Beyond the older woman, I catch sight of Kenny, sitting off in a small clearing with objects laid out in front of him.
“Excuse me.” I clamber to my feet and cross the camp toward him. I need to take my mind off the worry that hasn’t lessened by chatting with Mara. Plopping on the ground across from him, I examine what appears to be parts of some gadget he’s disassembled, though I don’t have a clue what it might’ve been before he took it apart. “What are you doing?”
“Tinker asked me to look at a circuit board for him. To see if I can get this thing working again.”
“What was it? I mean, before this.”
He snorts, lifting one of the parts before tossing it back to the ground. “Junk. But if I can get it working again, it’ll be a camera that feeds into a small hand-held TV.”
“TV?”
“Television box.” He lifts another object with a black screen. “It’s a closed circuit television camera, which basically converts light to an electrical signal that can be displayed on this box. Theoretically.”
“Right.” I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’ve read a number of books on the world prior to the Dredge, and none of the technical stuff seemed to stick. “You don’t think you can get it to work?”
“No. But it gives me something to do while we’re sitting here.”
“Does it require electricity?”
“This one is solar powered.” He lifts yet another puzzle piece from the mess of parts laid out in front of him.
“How do you know all this stuff?”
“An illustrious career working for Calico. I studied computer and electrical systems for Szolen from the time I was young. My father was a physicist before the Dredge hit.”
The lack of branding at his neck and telltale scars of an experimental subject begin to make sense. “You’re the one who sealed the hospital.”
“Well, I’m the one who programmed it to automatically respond to a breach. I’m the only one who knows the computer system there.” There’s an air of arrogance clinging to his words, like he’s proud of that fact.
“Everyone left behind. Can we assume they’re dead?”
“I would venture to say. One might survive a short while on the food supply. And water. But those mutations … they hunt and feed on human flesh. Just like the Ragers. Whatever’s left probably isn’t alive.”
Once again, I’m left with the visuals of imagining Six and I trapped inside. I stare down at my belly and place my hands where his child grows inside of me, one that would’ve been ripped from it’s womb by those things. Torn apart just like the soldiers we stepped over in our desperation to escape.
“Are you okay?” Kenny’s voice breaks my thoughts, and I give a slight smile, nodding back at him. “Yeah. The seal on the door … it’s completely impenetrable, right?”
With unwavering attention, he stares back at me. “There isn’t a chance of anything getting in, or out, of that hospital. I promise you.”
Nodding again, I take a deep breath and turn to find Six entering the camp, with Rigs and Tinker trailing after him. The mere sight of him sends a flutter through my chest, tamped down only by the visuals of him fighting those mutations to the death. “I pray you’re right.”
Chapter 9
Cali
I have no reason to believe the road we travel through the night will lead us to the rebels. For two months, we’ve chased after clues and hunches that have gotten us no closer to finding them, but that’s the nature of a heart in flames--it burns long after the first spark. I can’t bring myself to give up on Valdys, even if every road ends in disappointment and heartache.
Because I know he’d never give up on me.
It’s been two days of driving, and at the first flicker of light off in the distance, Titus slows the truck and kills the headlights. The trembles of excitement build low in my stomach, humming beneath my skin, as I peer across the open desert toward where a camp lies at the foot of a mountain. “It’s them?”
“Unless the bastard in Ceniza was lying, I would guess.”
It’s likely only because he didn’t realize Titus and Cadmus shared the same blood as the Alpha who leads them that the man back in Ceniza divulged such a thing. I wouldn’t have considered a regular man much of a threat against an Alpha, either. He swore the truth again, when Cadmus suggested tying him to the front of the truck and bringing him along for the ride, so I’m willing to gamble on his words being truth.
We exit the truck and make our way to the back, gathering ammunition and guns. I hope we don’t need to use them, as killing isn’t the intended outcome, but we’ve encountered enough hostiles out in the Deadlands to make us fools for not arming ourselves. Our goal is to find Kenny, the one responsible for the computer system at Calico. The same guy, I suspect, was responsible for sealing the doors in the first place. I watched him escape with the rebels that same night, and I’ve been praying ever since that he’s still alive.
Slipping a pair of binoculars over my head, I look back at Brandon, whose uniform, even tattered and frayed, might forge an attack. “Perhaps you should stay here and guard the truck.”
“And if they attack?”
“Better that you’re not caught in the fray.” Hand to his cheek, I give a tight-lipped smile. “Hopefully, we’ll be in and out.”
“And I’ll soon see my brother again.”
“You will.” A promise that may seem void of sincerity, but I wouldn’t have lasted two months in these harsh lands, if I didn’t carry a small sliver of hope that Valdys is alive. I’d be a hypocrite to deny him peace of mind.
Offering a quick peck on the cheek, I step past him and follow Cadmus and Titus down the dark path that’s hardly discernible in the moon’s light.
“We’ll take the high ground there.” Titus points toward a hill ahead of us. “Find Kenny first, then make our move.”
“No fight?” Cadmus pauses to slip behind me and bring up the rear of our group.
“Not if we can help it, so don’t do anything stupid,” I say over my shoulder, noticing Cadmus’s eyes on me. Ever since the estrus thing, he’s been watching me closer than before, his eyes never wavering from me.
“I’ve done many foolish things, but fighting certainly hasn’t been one of them.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head. “Spoken like a true Alpha from S-Block.”
“And this Alpha we’re expected to stumble upon here in the camp,” he continues, strolling casually behind me like a man who isn’t troubled that we’re about to raid a rebel camp. “Do you think he’ll greet us with open arms?”
“Not likely. Which is why it’s imperative that you avoid making a spectacle.’
“A man can’t help what comes natural.” The air of amusement in his voice is the old Cadmus clawing for the surface, but it’s tamped down by the somber tone that consistently shadows his words.
Thankfully, the peyote I gave him was the last of it, and given the rarity of the plant, it’s not likely he’ll have much opportunity to lose himself to hallucinations for a while again.
We reach the hill’s peak and hide out in the creosote bushes scattered about. From our vantage point, the entire camp stands in plain view, and binoculars in hand, I sweep over the tents and bonfire, searching for the familiar face that I hope is still present among their group. Titus points toward somewhere beyond a massive pyre, and I follow the path of his finger to where Kenny sleeps. At the camp’s perimeter, two men pace with guns strapped at their backs. Formidable, but easy targets for Cadmus and Titus. At least twenty people lie sleeping around the campire, with a couple of dozen tents scattered around them. Assuming they’re all armed, it’s not exactly a walk through the meadows. If we were so ambitious to fight, we’d be well-outnumbered.
At a glance, it doesn’t seem that we stand much chance of extracting Kenny, but the tent behind him offers some small measure of opportunity. If we can round the perimeter unnoticed, and slip behind the tent, we can potentially drag him from the camp without much incident.
“The tent seems like the best odds.” I lower the binoculars, taking in the size of their group, which I’m guessing is around sixty, or so, maybe slightly more.
“Agreed. Unless the Alpha is among those guarding. It’ll be impossible to go unseen then.” Titus stands beside me, still holding the binoculars to his eyes. “If they catch us, it’ll be one hell of a fight.”
“A slaughter. One I hope to avoid,” I correct. “We’re only here for Kenny. Nothing else.”
“Then, lets get our asses in gear and get this shit over with.” Cadmus pushes to his feet, the irritation of this mission clear on his face.
“You have reservations about this, Cadmus?”
His lack of response prods my frustration, and I shake my head.
“You want to get it over with so you can get high and avoid having to do anything, at all. That’s all you care about. Escaping everything.”
He shoves a blade into the holster at his belt. “I’d be lying if I said your words didn’t hold some truth.”
With a huff, I start to my feet, but feel the hot grip of his hand against my shoulder.
“I don’t think so. The two of you can sit tight. I’ll grab the asshole myself.”
“And I wait with my thumb in my ass?” Titus jumps up. “Not a chance.” Before Cadmus can stop him, he starts on the path toward the tent.
“Stubborn prick,” Cadmus says, passing in front of me and trailing after his Alpha brother.
From my perch, I watch the two of them descend the hill, skirting camp through the brush and darkness, outside of the bonfire’s halo of light. Without much notice, the two arrive beside the tent, and I hold my breath. Cadmus lurches first, and slapping his hand over Kenny’s mouth, the Alpha drags the significantly smaller man, who kicks and squirms in his arms. Kenny’s small frame is no match for Cadmus
, though, who plucks him like a fly from a spider’s web. Unseen, too, from the looks of the rest of the camp, who continue to sleep, or pace casually.
The Alphas make their way back toward the hill, just as a figure emerges from a cave off in the distance. Built like Cadmus and Titus, he stands apart from the other men in his camp, and there’s no doubt in my mind that I’m staring down at the Alpha.
I direct the binoculars toward where Cadmus and Titus climbs the hill, with what appears to be a now-passed out Kenny thrown over Cadmus’s shoulder.
Shouts erupt from below, and my heart kicks up, as the men scramble about the camp, undoubtedly aware of their missing man.
“Hurry,” I whisper, lowering the binoculars from my eyes. “C’mon!” Jumping to my feet, I catch sight of them coming over the top of the hill as the crackle of gunfire echoes through the night. Bang. Bang. Bang.
“Go!” Cadmus bellows, racing over the terrain toward me, with the man’s body jostling over his shoulder.
I sprint through the darkness, half blind, while the vegetation seems to reach out for my ankles, tripping me up a few times.
The sound of engines firing up are likely one of the many motorcycles I saw parked down in the camp.
Another blast of a gun, and I glance back to see Titus stumble to the ground.
“Fuck!” He scrambles back to his feet, hobbling behind us.
“Titus!” Gaze flicking between the truck ahead of me and him, I swallow back the panic and slow my pace to make sure he’s okay.
“Keep going!” He calls from behind, his voice gritty with ire.
Yet another shot echoes in the night, and I turn to see Titus fall again on a grunt, this time grimacing, as if in pain.
“Titus!” I skid to a halt and backtrack toward him, but I’m stopped short when Cadmus grabs my arm.
“Leave him!” he growls, as I break free of his grasp.
“No! I’m not leaving him behind!”
