But still, the hunger creeps ever closer.
11
Kenzo
The sun feels so good against my skin. I never could have imagined I would think those words again. Not in my lifetime.
The massive burning orb is finally setting, after the longest day imaginable. Or days, rather. This is the fourth looooong day, and I wish I could say we were making progress, but I don’t even know if that’s true. Only Howell knows our final destination. Every night, he passes instructions on to whoever is driving this train, and we just keep going. On and on.
The farther north we travel, the shorter the days get, and I feel like it’s been a relief on all of us. It’s not just the amount of daylight I’ve noticed, though; there’s a different taste to the air, a different texture to the landscape. The land is still very much decimated, but I have a slowly growing hope… maybe, just maybe, if we move far enough north… we might see some plant life. Maybe the ozone layer is thicker at the poles, or the plants are becoming more resilient. I have no idea, that’s not my area of expertise, but evolution happens. Slowly but surely, life finds a way.
I try to stop myself from moving too far ahead on what that could mean for us. Hypothetical does not equal reality.
I am ridiculously grateful to finally be safe to stick my head out of the door, catch a bit of a breeze. I’ve been stuck in this damn box with Howell and Bob for far too long. And Ellis and Kelly too, obviously, because there’s no way in hell either of them would leave us “unprotected.” Pfft, yeah, right. As if Kelly isn’t the biggest threat we’ll encounter today. Ellis, obviously, also had to stay, once she’d made her declaration. Not Lori, though. She makes herself scarce during the day. I can’t really imagine her bunking down with the military crew, but I also hope she isn’t all by herself, either.
Kelly tried to play that she’s just back here to make sure that nobody makes a move on us, some bullshit excuse about preserving the human species, but really, Howell and I are nothing but pawns. As if I don’t know my true value in this world. If I didn’t carry the cure in my veins, I’d be dead already. Howell, same thing. He’s only alive as long as he has something of worth to the Shredders, and right now, that’s the key to the kingdom. The location of the lab. I hate to think what’ll happen to him once we get there.
I try not to sigh, not to complain. It could be worse… right? I throw a glance over at Bob, humming a jaunty tune to himself while trying to tie his frizzy hair back into braids. He sees me looking and wiggles his fingers in a little wave.
I just wish that Lori could’ve been the one in here with me. She demonstrated how well she can protect me the other night. Ellis, in his creepy way of picking up on exactly what I’m thinking, says, “She doesn’t trust herself. It wouldn’t be safe.”
Kelly turns to him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”
Ellis offers his own steely-eyed gaze in return. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Their truce has been an uneasy one. They may find themselves on common ground for now, but it’s all too clear that any little thing could tip them off balance. I just hope I’m not around when it happens.
I want to question Ellis about his borderline mindreading abilities, but he just shakes his head and walks over to me. His pupils constrict as he steps into the doorway, the sun’s fading rays giving his skin an ethereal glow. He seems to weigh his word choice, knowing full well that no matter how quietly he whispers, Kelly won’t have a problem hearing him with perfect clarity.
“Lori hasn’t had any kind of combat training,” Ellis elaborates on what I was thinking. “She got lucky that night, she had the element of surprise. But it won’t happen again.”
He’s too right, but that doesn’t stop me from preferring her company over that of Kelly.
“Will she come to check on me?” I ask him. If he can hear my thoughts, maybe he can hear hers too.
Ellis gives a small smile, and I’m surprised to see this softer set to his face. Major Ellis Hill would never be described as “soft,” but it seems that Lori has wormed her way under his skin. A tiny flare of jealousy sparks in my chest. “She’ll be here,” he says. “She doesn’t seem to be able to keep her distance from you, even when she knows it’s for the best.”
Sure enough, a few minutes later I hear a squeal of metal and then a scrabbling sound. When I peek out of the door, I’m shocked to see Lori making her way down the side of the train. It’s like she was made for this body, the way she is now. Her movements are graceful, regardless of the hard, awkward shape of her new limbs. She swings and sways across the vertical surface, finding handholds with ease, and creating holes where she needs them, her claws puncturing the wood and metal boxcars.
I back up as she launches herself into the car and lands in a low crouch. I catch an eyeroll from Kelly in the deepening shadows. She mutters something under her breath that sounds like, “It’s not that impressive. I could do that.”
“My mom says we’re stopping soon,” Lori says. She addresses Ellis, but I feel like it’s actually for Kelly’s benefit rather than his. He probably already knows everything Lori’s going to say.
Well, I can’t read her mind, so I’m gonna need her to say it out loud. “Why?” I ask.
She’s avoiding my eyes, and instead looks down at my feet. “According to Howell’s directions, we need to change tracks, and they need to hunt.”
The Shredders. It’s dangerous to let them get hungry, but I really hope they’re hunting wildlife, rather than any humans in hiding.
As if in response to her words, the train gives a jolt and begins to slow down. We come around a bend in the tracks, and I look back out over the landscape. I’m shocked to see something on the horizon. “Is that a city?”
We line up along the lip of the train, watching, as the decrepit ruins of a city roll into view. It certainly isn’t the biggest city we’ve passed through, but with the plains stretching out in all directions, it seems almost like an oasis.
Even Howell comes out of his corner long enough to take a peek. “Welcome to Canada,” he grumbles.
Canada? It seems so bizarre to think that we have somehow passed through into another country. There were no borders, nothing to demark this part of the journey. It feels momentous, in some way, but it also falls flat.
Lori whispers, “I’ve never been to Canada.”
Bob giggles. “We’re illegal aliens.”
Her face crinkles in confusion. “What?”
Ellis shakes his head for her to drop it. Nothing good can come from Bob’s rambling. Once he gets started, there’s no stopping him. He’ll just keep going until he falls asleep.
Kelly seems to agree and changes the subject quickly. “There’d better be something to eat this time.”
I happen to agree with her, even though I’m not the one doing the hunting. But I am, however, the one that could so easily become dinner. We’ve had to stop the train a few times to clear debris from the tracks, and each time, the Shredders got out to hunt, but when there’s nothing for miles but dead brush and parched dirt, even the crickets are silent. There just isn’t enough food to go around.
The train trundles in on the tracks with its clickety-clack, echoing off the concrete and glass as the buildings close in around us, first the ruins of neighborhoods, soon followed by the tighter press of sagging high-rises and skyscrapers. I wish we’d rolled into town earlier in the day, so I could’ve gotten a better look, but the sun has passed well beyond the horizon by this point, and the shadows are lengthening and deepening. The Shredders keep their eyes peeled for any signs of life, but human eyes just aren’t capable of helping anymore. It’s too dark for me to see much beyond vague shadows and outlines.
I should feel scared. Not just scared, but terrified. Anxious, at the very least. I mean, I’m headed into the unknown, having to place my trust in untrustworthy monsters. My traveling companions all want me dead. No, not even dead. They want to eat me. Tear me limb from limb and devour my pieces.
<
br /> But I’m not scared. Quite the opposite, I feel a kind of… thrill.
Maybe I’ve just hit my threshold for fear, fresh out of terror, tapped out of adrenaline. There’s only so much the human body and mind can take. Maybe my sanity has just reached over and flipped the switch to off.
Or… just possibly… this is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.
Life in the bunker wasn’t exactly good for a laugh. It was boredom, it was monotony, it was routine and structure. And yes, it was living by the military’s rules, and now I’m living under the Shredders’ rules, I suppose. But somehow, this is different.
I feel like being here on this trip is my choice. Even if the only other option is death, this is where I choose to be. And that means something to me.
I try to absorb all I can from this moment. I pull the air deep into my lungs: it’s warm, dusty, with an underlying rot. I wonder what Lori can glean with her senses. I look over at her and catch the silvery eyeshine.
“What do you see?” I ask, raising my voice over the brakes as they give their metallic screech, the whole train giving a jolt, the cars bumping into each other in a cascade.
She turns those glittering eyes to me and shakes her head sadly. “I see death.”
I don’t have time to question her answer or to ask her to elaborate, when I hear a whoop from farther up the train. From the sounds of it, the Shredders are leaping off before we’ve come to a full stop.
“Who goes first?” Kelly asks, her voice gravelly.
“I’m not leaving you here with them,” Ellis snarls. “You might lose control.”
His ire doesn’t seem to have any effect on her. She just turns to him, looking bored. “Well, I’m not leaving you here with him either. You’re just as likely to try to whisk him away into the night in some misplaced attempt at protecting him. And besides, I don’t think you’re one to talk about control… something tells me that your own is dangling by a thread.” Her brow raises.
I expect Ellis to refute what she’s saying, but he’s awkwardly silent. Is he struggling with his hunger, like she said?
“You guys are so pathetic,” Lori interrupts. “There’s obviously no way you’ll come to an agreement, so why don’t you both just go? I’ll stay here. It’s low-risk, with all the Rippers off hunting. We’ll be fine for a couple hours, just go.”
Kelly growls low in the back of her throat. “You expect me to trust you, of all people?”
The voice of reason comes from the least likely of places. Bob reaches over and places a hand on his daughter’s arm. “Lori’s a good egg. I’ll vouch for her.”
Lori looks as surprised as the rest of us by his trust. It’s hard to discredit Bob when he looks so absolutely certain.
The train finally clatters to a stop under an overhang. My eyes have adjusted enough to the semi-darkness, with the help of the rising sliver of moon, to see the outlines of what I suspect was once a train station, but now it’s nothing more than a few walls and a collapsed roof. Kelly and Ellis step out from the train onto a concrete platform. To see them standing side by side, their differences are in stark clarity. Kelly, hunched, all sharp angles, and Ellis with his apparent humanity. So hard to imagine that he’s just as dangerous as she is, if not more so. They turn to face each other, another uneasy truce, and then turn and head in opposite directions.
Lori lowers herself down onto her haunches to wait. There’s a flare of light behind me, and I turn to find Bob putting a lit match to a candle wick. “Don’t want to waste the batteries,” he says with a shrug, and gestures for me to join him.
He reaches into a pack and begins to pull out his gear. First, a small camp stove, nothing more than a mini propane tank with a tiny grill that sits above the flame. “Hope you like beans.” He holds out a can. “Baked or lima?”
“I won’t ever complain about having food in my belly… but there’s no way that I will eat lima beans unless they’re my last option.”
“Fair enough,” he says with a good-natured chuckle.
Howell glares at us from his corner of the car, still cradling his precious rifle, but his eyes are darting to where Bob is placing the baked beans over the stove. I’d give him three minutes before he drags his ass over here to eat.
So, Bob has taken care of our dinner… but what about Lori? Beans aren’t exactly the kind of protein that her body needs. She’s hunkered down, keeping watch, but there’s a slight rock to her body. Her fists are clenching and unclenching. She’s twitchy, irritable, and if it’s even possible to tell with her scaly flesh, I would say there are bags under her eyes.
Lori is suffering.
The smell of the tomato sauce fills the space, and I will be the first to admit that this is pretty much the best thing I have ever smelled in my entire life. Way better than protein paste! Bob scoops some beans into a tin cup and sets it on the floor, sliding it toward Howell. It looks like it damn near kills the general to set aside his paranoia and take the food, but he finally darts forward and snatches the cup up. I take the proffered beans from Bob without hesitation, and then move over towards where Lori is sitting, settling down a respectful distance away to enjoy my meal.
She won’t look at me, but I can tell she’s watching me from her peripheral vision. Too aware of my heat, of the blood pumping through my veins. She clenches her teeth and turns her head away.
“You okay?” I ask. She gives a jerk of her head, a nod, I guess. “They’ll be back soon, and then you can go hunt. That should help.”
She just shakes her head a little. “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, that’s a bunch of bullshit.”
She huffs a little laugh. “I can’t… I can’t bring myself to eat. The most basic part of me knows I need it, but the part of me that clings to being human… that part is completely repulsed by it.”
“And you feel like giving in will somehow be like turning your back on your humanity?” I guess.
She gives a small shrug, but I’m not fooled by her casual gesture.
I eat my beans but knowing that she’s starving and refuses to feed herself somehow takes the luster off my food. I stare down into the tin cup at the last dregs of my meal, my stomach roiling… both at the thought of what her eating would be like, but likewise at the thought of her refusing to eat.
“I know…” I begin, not sure how to phrase what I need to say without having her outright dismiss me. “I know that your heart is in the right place. You don’t want to hurt me.” Though Howell might be an option, I think bitterly to myself. Not a helpful suggestion, though, so I don’t say it out loud.
Lori’s eyes skitter over to me so briefly that I almost wonder if I’m imagining it, but she’s listening to me at least, so I keep going. “I know that the idea of hunting animals isn’t any more appealing, but I think that it would help you to keep your hunger under control.”
She breathes a deep sigh but winces and turns her head away, as though the scent she caught on the air—likely my own—was physically painful to her. Finally, she turns back and says, “Trey said the same thing.”
“He did?” I can’t hide my shock that Trey and I have a similar opinion about anything. I don’t like that his concern for Lori makes him a teensy bit less repulsive to me. It’s easier to manage my jealousy when I hate him to my fullest potential.
“Do you remember the sun?” Lori asks quietly. But then she seems to realize what she said and dismisses it with a flick of her claws. “I know it’s hard to imagine forgetting something that so absolutely controls every aspect of our lives. But I mean the sun before, before all this.”
I nod slowly, digging through the memories I have of before the compound. I was old enough when we went in, sure, but it’s not so easy as that. Time passes and memories fade. When I think back to the sun, it’s this blurry orb in the sky, always present but somehow forgettable.
Lori gives a sigh of longing. “It’s like some kind of sweet torture to think about the sun. The way we w
ould all flock to the beach on a warm day and just… bask in it. We would get sun tans! Do you remember? Intentionally exposing our skin.”
She gives a deep, throaty laugh, and it warms my insides for a minute, as if she herself is my own personal sun. But then her expression sobers and I know she’s getting to her point.
“There was an eclipse once, the moon passing in front of the sun, and I wanted to watch. My dad had all these fancy viewing methods set up for us. A telescope that we couldn’t even look through, it was just going to display the eclipse onto the wall, like a kind of projector. I didn’t get it, I asked, ‘Why can’t we just watch it?’ And my dad told me that you could go blind just by looking directly at it. Even then, when it was so weak that we could just walk around it all day, every day… it could still make us go blind.”
Lori’s shoulders are sagging, and I want nothing more than to wrap my arms around her, to ease her pain.
“Well, my life is like staring at the sun,” she says, turning her sad gaze to me. “I spend my entire time looking at my memories from the corner of my eye, never staring directly at them, or I might very well go blind. Except my memories aren’t making a predictable course across the sky, they aren’t always so easy to avoid. Sometimes, they leap out at me from the shadows, when I least expect it.
“And in those memories… there’s blood, gore, screaming… death…” Her skin ripples with a shudder, an animalistic reaction so unlike the way a human moves, and my eyes follow the vibration with fascination.
“I can’t do it,” she reiterates. “I know that I should. I know that to survive, I need to eat, just as true now as it was when I was human. But…” She trails off.
I nod slowly. “I understand, I do. But it kills me to see you suffer.”
“No, there’s only one way that I will kill you.” The look in her eyes is pure torture.
An uneasy silence settles over us, and it reeks of depression and helplessness. The others will be back from their hunt soon, and the window of opportunity for her to eat is closing for the day. Who knows how long it’ll be before the train stops again. Without knowing our final destination or what we could encounter on the way, it’s impossible to guess.
The Shade Chronicles | Book 2 | Predator Page 10
