Savage One: Born Wild Book Two

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Savage One: Born Wild Book Two Page 9

by Augustine, Donna


  “Callon, it’s on the move,” Hess called. He was standing near the danger zone with Zink and Koz, thirty feet or so from me.

  “Not. A. Step.” Callon pointed at the ground by my feet.

  “I already said. I. Wouldn’t.”

  Callon left me with a parting glare.

  “Let’s try the fire first,” he said to the guys as they cleared a path in front of the mud. They had every concoction we’d brought lined up. There was gasoline, which was expensive as hell to trade for. Sugar, which might have been more expensive, but I wasn’t exactly sure, since I’d never traded for either. There was plain water. Wax. Vinegar. We’d even brought honey, because if it could help fight a sore throat, it was worth a shot. If we had some, we’d brought some.

  And now I couldn’t participate. I was made to sit here like a stone.

  Tuesday moved closer to me now that we were left alone. When we all set out this morning, I’d been glad to have her along. The wide smile on her face was making me rethink my initial reaction.

  “What?” I asked, knowing I was rolling the dice by uttering a question whose answer could be overheard and prove mortifying. At the same time, the guys seemed more intent on starting a fire than what we were talking about.

  “Nothing, really.” Her smile widened, proving the opposite. It took about three seconds before she explained anyway. “You guys are cute, is all.”

  And there it was.

  “Cute? All we do is fight. What is cute about that?” I kept a keen eye on the scene below. Koz’s head turned a hair toward us and then stayed in that position. Callon appeared to be consumed in the experiments, but if Koz was listening, Callon was too.

  I gave Tuesday a tap and pointed to the guys. I mouthed, Don’t say anything crazy.

  “There’s nothing else to say. You bicker. It’s cute. I find bickering cute. It’s not a crime, and I’m allowed to think it’s cute. I won’t stop, either, so don’t try to make me.” She crossed her arms.

  I was about to do exactly that, make her stop, when there was a sizzling noise. The smell, which had already been bad, grew worse as I saw the tips of flames rise. I got up on my toes, straining to see. I put my hand on Tuesday’s shoulder so I could balance a little higher.

  “Get off, I’m trying to see too,” she said, trying to shrug off my grip.

  I let go and dropped down flatfooted.

  “Then go see for both of us. I’m the one stuck this far away.” Damned if it wasn’t killing me, too. I should be over there, experimenting. Half of the things we’d brought were because I’d thought of them, and here I was relegated to the kiddie corner, doomed to watch as a bystander. It wasn’t like the stuff moved that fast. I could outrun it if needed—probably. If the Magician hadn’t been singularly focused on Callon, he could’ve avoided the disaster too.

  “You think it’s safe?” she asked, not nearly as gung-ho to get into the thick of it as she should’ve been.

  “You don’t have to get that close. Just closer than me so you can see. Go down, see what’s happening, and report back. I want to make sure they don’t screw this up somehow.” I gave her a little push toward them.

  All four heads turned to me, proving they were a bunch of eavesdroppers. It was hard to remember that they could hear everything, everywhere, all the fucking time. Exhausting. Only word for it.

  “I was exaggerating,” I yelled down to them. “It’s not like I don’t know you all listen to everything.”

  After a small pause, they mostly went back to what they were doing. Callon shook his head.

  “Go,” I said to Tuesday, giving her another little shove.

  Tuesday made her way closer as I waited. She tried to lean in close and get a better view when Koz’s attention shifted to her. That was when things went to hell. She shifted her stance into something all sorts of weird. Koz couldn’t possibly believe she’d normally stand with her foot bent at that angle. It looked like something was wrong with her knee, as if it were out of its socket. If she flipped her hair again, she was going to fracture her neck. She was supposed to be watching the Hell Pit for me, and now look at her.

  Koz smiled. Dumbass. How long was this fake period going to last between them where they acted all gaga toward each other? I felt like I was getting sugar sick just looking at them. Hopefully they’d start acting like normal human beings soon, because it was nearly intolerable.

  Was that why Callon and I didn’t get along? Did he think I should act all weird like Tuesday? Would that get me smiles and pats of encouragement?

  Callon glanced my way, probably checking to make sure I was following his “no movement” instructions. I didn’t smile. I might’ve moved my leg inward, the way Tuesday had, and my hair might’ve needed a flip because it was in my face. And if I looked like I was mimicking Tuesday’s behavior, it was purely for experimental reasons.

  Callon didn’t smile. He narrowed his eyes instead, as if the sun were right behind me and hurting them.

  Whatever. Tuesday’s weirdness must only work on nice guys. Callon was who he was, a miserable man, a curmudgeon, and we were bound to fight. There would be no pretending in our immediate future, and not in the far-off distance either, if I had to bet on it. I went back to ignoring him and checked Tuesday’s status. Not only was she still flirting, she’d lured Koz farther away from the Hell Pit, diminishing our manpower.

  I gave up, grabbed my bag, and found a spot on the ground that didn’t have snow. I shoved the bag behind my head and ignored the chill that tried to seep through my jacket as I flipped open the book I’d brought.

  I’d borrowed it from the stash at the lodge a week ago, before all the madness had ensued. It was a story written before the end of the Glory Years, when there were still places that printed books en masse. When they’d been cleaning the lodge, they’d found a bunch of books stored in trunks that had survived.

  I’d never read an entire book before. They hadn’t been plentiful at the village, and the people who did have them hadn’t been willing to lend them. Issy had suggested it the other day and said it might relax me, as if I were uptight or something. She also mentioned it was fun. They’d done a lot of fun things back before the world had gone to hell. Maybe those sticks they used to go downhill fast were fun too. I might have to try them if this worked out. Either way, the book would save me from running down there and asking what they were doing.

  * * *

  An arm wrapped around my waist, and my feet were dangling as Callon walked twenty feet away before dropping me to the ground. “Thirty feet. We moved. You were supposed to move. That’s all I asked you to do. You saw what happened to the Magician.” His eyebrows nearly connected as he glowered at me.

  “I fell asleep. I didn’t do it on purpose.” I wasn’t sure how I’d even drifted off, except that Callon was near. He seemed to be my only ticket to Lullaby Land.

  Was that red I saw tinting the edges of his irises? It might be hard to utilize here, though. Where would he drag me to get in some more napping time? We didn’t have a cave nearby. Still, it was worth exploring for future use.

  “Are you mad?” I asked.

  His eyes grew redder. “You know, sometimes I miss the days when you were afraid of me. What happened to them?”

  I shrugged. He shook his head and walked off.

  It was a valid question. When had I lost my fear of him? He was probably the most dangerous man I’d ever met, yet I didn’t fear him at all. He’d just hauled me across the field and I hadn’t flinched.

  Tuesday made her way to me, throwing a thumb in Callon’s direction. “He’s completely overreacting. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Someone else would’ve noticed before it got any closer to you.”

  Callon walked around as if he’d heard nothing, but Zink threw a glare our way.

  “No, he might’ve been right,” I whispered to Tuesday. “I could’ve ended up swallowed. I can’t expect everyone to watch out for me.”

  Zink’s expression softened. He’d
heard me. Damn he was annoying.

  I watched as the guys went back to work. There seemed to be a lot of cursing and scowls. They were moving slower than they had earlier this morning, and the bags we’d brought were spread around the ground, deflated.

  “Did they make any progress?” I asked Tuesday, not liking the scene in front of me.

  She sat on a sunny patch of ground. “Nope. Nothing seems to be doing anything. It smothers the fire, runs right through the gas, the honey. It defies gravity and crawls over anything they put in front of it.”

  I took a seat next to her, resting my arms on my legs. “Does anything seem to slow it down?” I asked.

  “Barely.”

  “Do you hear that?” I asked. The stupid chiming sounds had come back.

  “What?

  I wiggled a finger over my ear.

  “Your ear hurt?” Tuesday asked.

  “No. I just keep hearing noises. I think there’s something wrong with my ear.”

  “Put some vinegar in it when we get back to the lodge.”

  “Yeah, I will.” The last thing I needed was for my hearing to go on top of everything else.

  Our shoulders slumped farther, along with our moods, as the sun continued to sink. Zink was cursing with every new try. Koz was quieter, his smiles in our direction forced. Callon was staring at the mud with a quiet intentness as Hess and him talked. We hadn’t just hit a wall—we’d run into it full force and slammed hard.

  The sun was only a couple of hours from setting when Callon said, “We’re leaving in five. Get your stuff together.”

  But Callon didn’t turn to leave. He knelt down and did something near the mud. He straightened and then moved farther away, where they’d set up a fire.

  He was spinning something over the flame while his back was to me. When he finally turned, I realized what was in Callon’s hand. He had a jar of the stuff. It looked like he’d sealed the top with wax, but that didn’t matter much to me. He was bringing it back with us.

  Distance be damned—I marched over to him.

  He met me halfway. “Do you not listen?” With a hand on my back, he began pushing me to a safe distance.

  I sped up so I could get clear of his hand and turn on him. “You’re taking that with us?”

  “Nothing we’ve tried is working. I need a sample.”

  “We can bring more stuff here.” I didn’t know what was left to bring, but I’d find something.

  “We might have to go in search of answers. It takes us all day to get here. We need this. I’m bringing it back,” he said, as he walked over to pack his bag, bringing the jar with him.

  * * *

  We’d been walking for an hour and had another hour left to go, but that wasn’t the problem. Knowing we didn’t have an easy way to stop the Hell Pit made the trip back to the lodge seem even longer. Zink and Koz were leading the group. Tuesday and I took our time following. Mostly I was trying to walk as slowly as possible so I could hear Callon and Hess talking behind us.

  Callon talked to different guys for different reasons. Zink was wartime. Koz seemed to be everyday shooting the shit. Hess was his logic sounding board. I’d only caught a few words, but each one was about the Hell Pit.

  “You’re going to have to tell them,” Hess said to Callon.

  Tuesday’s eyes shot to me. I appreciated her alarm on my behalf, but there wasn’t much to do about it. Not only that, but I agreed with Hess. Maybe it was because I’d lived my life in the dark for so many years, never knowing what my fate would be. The people at the lodge deserved to know. I wasn’t looking forward to that moment, but still.

  “After today, there might not be a choice in the matter,” Hess continued. “The sooner they know, the better. It’ll give everyone a chance to find somewhere else to go. That stuff is headed here as long as—”

  “We don’t know that for sure.”

  Callon had cut him off, but I didn’t need to hear the rest. As long as she’s there. Hess was right. It might not be absolute, but it was looking like a safe bet that the stuff wanted to get close to me for whatever reason. Callon could say whatever he wanted, but even the sample in the jar was trying to get to me.

  I’d been watching it since we’d started back. When Callon had sealed it and put it down for a minute, it shifted to where I was. When I’d moved around, it had moved with me. Now, as he walked with it in his hand, it was again trying to climb the side of the glass toward me.

  Tuesday bumped me, smiling, trying to pull me from my morose thoughts.

  I smiled back, pretending I was fine. It was easier than saying, He’s right, about everything.

  Tuesday already knew that anyway.

  Fourteen

  Initially, I’d been too tired to realize people were staring at me. Then I thought it was because I’d been late for breakfast. That had been more than a half an hour ago, and they were still staring. Some filtered in as others left. Some peeked quickly, while others gave a full-blown visual interrogation. Some of the looks were confused. Some were hostile. One thing was very clear: between last night and this morning, everyone knew the Hell Pit was heading here and that it might have something to do with me.

  Considering that, the full array of reactions were understandable. If the Hell Pit was heading here, it might steal their home. The confusion was even more justified. Who the fuck had a swamp after them?

  It was ruining my meal for sure. The scrambled eggs I usually loved felt like chickens trying to poke their way out of my gut. I finished up my food, cursing Tuesday for sleeping in and making me eat alone under full examination. I nodded to a few people on my way out and went to go find the source of my current predicament.

  His office was empty, and the jar was easy enough to find in his cabinet. I placed it on his desk and the games began.

  * * *

  After about an hour, it was clear that it didn’t matter where I sat in Callon’s office, whether it was by the window, behind the desk, or across the room—the stuff moved until it was as near to me as it could get. I was starting to think I could hang like a bat from the rafters and the mud would shift in the jar until it was piled up onto the underside of the lid.

  I picked it up, shook it again, and put it back on the desk. The stuff slithered around, doing its thing again.

  My life used to be controlled by Baryn. When he died, I still wasn’t completely free. The Magician had stepped up to the plate. That problem had been solved, only to be trumped by whatever dark magic these Hell Pits were. It got to be that I wanted to throw my hands in the air. Some insane part of me that was tired of living life under the sword wanted to break the seal, drop the goop into my palm, and see what would happen. Take my best shot and see where the chips fell.

  Luckily, I was only a little crazy. Maybe in a few weeks of worrying about yet another threat, if I lasted that long, I’d be mostly crazy and wouldn’t care what the stuff did to me. I’d want this whole thing over, one way or another.

  Or more likely, I’d still be me and want to torch the stuff again. Stupid mud, thinking it could steal the only home I’d had. We’d see who’d win this war.

  The door opened and Callon walked in. He looked at where I sat, staring at the sealed jar in front of me.

  “Is this going to become a habit?”

  “Perhaps.” I rotated the jar once more. This mud, this sludge, this darkness, did it never tire? Wouldn’t it eventually stop moving? It was cut off from everything. The wax around the seal cut off its air. It didn’t have water or food, and yet it still continued on.

  Callon walked over and plucked the jar from the desk in front of me. He put it inside the cabinet and shut the door, then rested his hand on it.

  “Do I need to lock this?”

  I wasn’t sure if he was busting my chops or serious. Either way, it was the same answer. I didn’t need to watch it anymore. “No. I’m done for the day.”

  He crossed his arms, leaning a shoulder against the wall. “Issy said you’ve b
een in here for an hour.”

  I shrugged. “Must’ve lost track of time.” Actually, I had lost track, as the future had rolled out in front of me and I’d buried myself in its murky bleakness. How did you kill something you couldn’t put a name to? There had to be a way, but it was hard to find.

  He took a seat on the desk in front of me, and I let my head loll back, waiting for whatever lecture or commandment he had now. It was as if he made them up for fun in his free time. How can I torture Teddy today? What will get under her skin? While I tried to sleep to no avail, he probably stayed awake thinking up fun ways to screw with me.

  “Yes?” I asked, with no lack of attitude piled into that short word.

  “We’ll figure something out,” he said.

  “Easy words, but not so easy to do.”

  He was talking to me like we were friends. He hated me almost every other day of the week. I alternated and returned the favor on his days off.

  I didn’t know where this pep talk was coming from, but the Magician had been eaten by this stuff. The Magician, who had run Newco, who had almost bested all of us, had been destroyed by the Hell Pit with barely a fight. This was no time to be cavalier.

  “What about that Bitters man? The wizard? Maybe he can help?”

  I leaned my head back farther, looking at the ceiling so I didn’t have to look at him. I wasn’t ready to share all my motives yet. Bitters might not know what to do about the Hell Pits. But if Bitters knew as much as Dax alluded to, he might be able to break the spell the witch had used to tie Callon to me.

  Did I want to leave here? No. Not a cell in my body relished the thought of leaving this place. Leaving the beast meant I’d never sleep again. But I probably wouldn’t have a choice. I couldn’t let the Hell Pit destroy this place, and someone would probably kill me before it got to that point anyway. They’d have to.

 

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