Inhuman

by Kat Falls

  “Dromo left this for you,” he said gruffly, and scooped up a teal dress adorned with feathers from the bed. He tossed it to me and headed into the bathroom without another word.

  I left my questions unasked. What would I do anyway if he said the rest was true? Hold him close and tell him that I would’ve come sooner if I’d known he was real? Oh, he’d just love that. Part of me did want to though — hold him close. And not just because he was the wild boy, my favorite character come to life, but for who he was now, and for the parts of him he tried to keep hidden. I held up the blue-green garment — a satin evening gown that was even skimpier than the robe. The material was a little moth-eaten in places, but it still gleamed. How was I supposed to make an escape in this?

  Ten minutes later there was a soft knock on the door, and a girl with the flattened face of a Pekingese came into the room, her eyes lowered. Her white maid’s cap sat over one ear and, as with Dromo, a thick leather collar encircled her neck. “I’m Penny and I’m here to — Oh, you’re already dressed,” she said, looking anxious. “Well, the fit is beautiful. Dromo always gets it right on the first try.”

  I smoothed down the bodice, which was embroidered with two peacocks whose tails cascaded over the flowing skirt in a shimmering mix of feathers and satin. “I didn’t need help with the dress, but I do need a bandage.”

  Penny yipped when I showed her my lacerated calf. She darted from the room and then returned with everything she needed to disinfect my leg and wrap it up tight. After that, I settled on a leather ottoman while Penny pinned up my hair. I even let her dab lipstick on me.

  “Is there a mirror somewhere?” I asked and then felt a pluck of guilt. I had two days to get back to the Titan wall before the line patrol blocked off the tunnel, and here I was curious to see myself all dressed up.

  Fear sprang into Penny’s smooshed face. She gave the barest shake of her head and hurried from the room on bowed legs.

  O-kay. Were they extra superstitious here in the Chicago Compound?

  Dromo entered without knocking just as Rafe stepped out of the bathroom. I’d seen my father in a tuxedo many times and had always marveled at how it magically transformed him into someone glamorous. Putting a tux on Rafe, however, just wasn’t fair. With that face, that lean form, he was already the prettiest person in any given room. Did he really need a boost up to jaw-dropping?

  He looked from me to Dromo, trying to gauge our expressions. “Go ahead, laugh. I know I look stupid.”

  Dromo lifted a brow. “You’re not serious?”

  “You look okay,” I told him.

  Dromo turned to me. “You’re not serious?”

  “What?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “It’s nice to see him with combed hair for a change.” Though his hair was still unruly, waving past his ears and along the nape of his neck.

  Rafe scowled. “Forget it. I’m not going anywhere like this.” He started to shrug off his jacket.

  “No!” Dromo and I cried in unison.

  “You look gorgeous, okay?” I added.

  He broke into a slow grin. “Gorgeous?”

  I directed a finger at him. “Don’t be obnoxious about it. Is there a mirror anywhere in this castle?” I asked Dromo. After one glance at his reflection, Rafe’s already healthy ego would probably grow as big as the Titan wall, but at least he’d keep the tux on.

  “Mirrors aren’t allowed in the castle,” Dromo said flatly. “By the king’s order.”

  “He’s that ugly?” Rafe asked.

  “No one’s warned you about the king’s appearance?” Dromo asked in a low voice.

  That sounded ominous. We shook our heads.

  He smoothed the sleeves of his white dinner jacket without meeting our eyes. “You’ve met Omar?”

  “Is the king as messed up as Captain Half Nose?” Rafe asked, coming to stand beside me.

  “They were outside the compound hunting when a feral attacked the king,” Dromo said, speaking fast and low. “Omar saved the king’s life, though both returned to the castle badly wounded. They don’t hide their scars from that terrible day, but no one in Chicago ever dares to stare or bring up their deformities in any way.”

  “Of course not,” I assured him … and then remembered that I was traveling with the rudest person alive. “We won’t stare or comment on the king’s appearance.” I said it precisely, so that maybe it would stick in Rafe’s brain. The grin he gave me wasn’t reassuring.

  Dromo strode over to Rafe and got within an inch of him, their noses almost touching. Now it was Rafe’s turn to stiffen. “Here’s a tidbit you might want to keep in mind,” Dromo said so quietly that even though I was at Rafe’s side, I could barely hear him. “The queen says she has eyes in the back of her head, but really she puts an ear to the door. So be very careful about what you say … even in private.” He stepped back smoothly, lifting his hands to Rafe’s tie as if he’d just straightened it.

  “Thank you,” I said, drawing his gaze to me.

  He frowned as he looked me over and then clucked his tongue. “What was Penny thinking?”

  I touched my hair, which Penny had pinned up in a loose knot. “She didn’t do a good job?”

  “She did too good a job.” He began pulling pieces of my hair free of the pins. “She’s going to end up in the zoo if she isn’t careful.”

  “Hey, let me —”

  Dromo pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his suit coat and dragged it across my mouth, smearing rosy lipstick over the white cotton. “If the queen asks, say you declined Penny’s help. That way she can’t be blamed if the queen thinks you’ve upstaged her.”

  I pulled free of his hold and touched my now-raw lips. “I don’t want to upstage her.” I wasn’t even sure what that meant, but it didn’t sound good.

  “No,” he agreed. “You don’t.”

  Dromo led us up the stairs and to the roof. At the top, Rafe and I opened the door and stepped out into a lush garden just as the sun dropped past the horizon. We saw Omar smoking a cigar as handlers armed with rifles took up positions along the edge of the roof at various strategic points. The center area was crowded with freestanding cages, which held the oddest creatures that I’d ever seen — a snakelike dog, a bat-faced rabbit…. Chicken bones and dry pet food lay scattered across the cement floors of the enclosures. At least I hoped they were chicken bones. I wanted to run to each cage and see what was inside. Judging by his wrinkled nose, Rafe didn’t share my curiosity.

  “This is so wrong.” He flung a hand at the nearest creature. “That mongrel has got at least five animals mixed in to it.”

  I peered inside the tall cage and saw what he meant. The long-necked creature had ermine fur and a body like a mini kangaroo. “They look like they belong in a dream.” I turned in a slow circle, looking into all the cages.

  “So you like my menagerie?” the queen asked. She stepped out from behind a blooming shrub, dressed in a semitransparent gown of yellowing lace with a white fur cape draped over one shoulder. Her auburn hair had been put up with dried bird claws. “They are fun, aren’t they? I was in charge of infecting and breeding them even before I was queen. It’s how I caught the king’s eye. I impressed him with what I whipped up. Creatures with the softest fur, and leather in colors you wouldn’t believe.”

  I murmured my amazement, while remembering the fate of the ugly offspring. On the jeep ride here, Cosmo had told us that the so-called failures were taken to the zoo and fed to the feral humans who were imprisoned there.

  “You look pretty,” the queen said to me while fingering her electric blue Ferae test. “Very pretty …”

  Out of her mouth, it didn’t sound like a compliment. It sounded ominous. “Um, thanks.”

  “You two are going to fit in just fine.” She smiled at Rafe, but that smile tightened as her eyes moved back to me. If she’d only let us go, then she wouldn’t have to worry about the king noticing me.

  She bent toward the cage beside her. Inside sat a dejected li
ttle hedgehog-monkey thing. The queen waved a celery stalk in front of the bars, and the small creature reached out a hand to take it, but the queen jerked the celery back, out of the mongrel’s reach, and laughed. “It’s getting weaker and weaker,” she said. “It hasn’t eaten in days. It’s an ugly one all right.”

  I had to turn away, or my hands would have found their way around her throat. But her attention span was short — big surprise — and soon she dropped the celery and headed for the edge of the roof. “Let’s see who has arrived.”

  When her back was turned, I bent to get the celery, but Rafe had had the same idea. Our fingers touched and his closed on the stalk and he tossed it into the little mongrel’s cage. Without a word about it, he strode toward the queen, while I stared after him in shock.

  From the edge of the roof, we could not only see the guests arriving in their manimal-drawn rickshaws, we could also see the feral, still chained in the yard below. Eyes closed, he swung his head back and forth as if he was trying to shake loose a crick in his neck. Once the people climbed out of their rickshaws, they stopped to point and gape at him on their way into the castle. One man threw a rock at him, and the feral’s eyes snapped open. He lunged for the man, but the chain pulled him up short. The group below broke into peals of laughter.

  “Almost makes me ashamed to be human,” Rafe muttered.

  I glanced at him. “Almost?”

  The queen waved to the stream of people arriving below. “Hurry up to the roof,” she called down and then sighed, leaning against the low wall. “Can you believe it? That’s just about everyone. All the humans left living inside the compound. Less than two hundred.”

  “Were there more at one time?” I asked.

  “Yes, but they either took off or got infected at some point. Oh, and a lot died trying to overthrow my husband a few years back. Idiots. They just couldn’t admit that we’re safer now than we’ve ever been.”

  “Safer from what?” I asked.

  She made a face as if I were too dumb to live. “Ferals. And then there’s the servants. Given half a chance, they’d have us waiting on them. The king says we need more humans if we’re to keep the manimals in their place. But not many people come to Chicago anymore.”

  “Where is the king?” Rafe asked.

  “Off hunting, but he’ll be back soon enough,” Omar said as he joined us.

  If the king bore even half the scars that Omar did from their encounter with a feral, then I was surprised he’d ever venture outside the compound again. “Were those the king’s trophies on the spikes outside the fence?” I asked as if impressed.

  “I hate those things,” the queen groaned, and then gave a dismissive wave. “But the king says the heads keep the ferals away.”

  “Might also be why people don’t come to Chicago anymore,” Rafe said with a straight face.

  The guests began trickling onto the roof in such elegant and elaborate clothing, they could have been attending a formal ball. Well, except for the fact that they all wore bright blue Ferae tests around their necks. But as the guests strolled closer, I saw that the fashions were from twenty years ago — pre-exodus — and that everything had a tattered, musty look. The men’s tuxedos were faded and their cuffs frayed, while the women’s gowns were discolored or disintegrating and some smelled of mildew. There had to be plenty of high-end stores in Chicago to raid, and even more closets inside the mansions, but the delicate materials weren’t holding up nearly as well as a wool sweater might.

  I let my eyes wander over what was left of Chicago. Towering shapes against the darkening sky, and beyond that, the dark expanse of Lake Michigan. There was something wrong with the view, but at first, I couldn’t put a finger on what…. Right. There wasn’t a single light on in any of the buildings beyond the fence.

  Rafe joined me. “Figured out how we’re getting out of here yet?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

  He leaned back against the low wall and folded his arms. “I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

  “You’re trapped in the Chicago compound,” I pointed out.

  “Yeah, but I’m with the girl who’s going to end the quarantine.”

  “What?” I stared at him.

  He cut me a sly look. “The girl in Mack’s stories always does.”

  “I’m not that girl.”

  “No,” he agreed. “You’re better. For one thing, you’re real. And two, you fill out that dress better than a ten-year-old could.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Give yourself some credit,” he went on, “not a lot of silkies would have made it this far.”

  “I stopped you from killing Chorda,” I reminded him and then felt sick, hearing myself say the name aloud. That demented animal didn’t deserve a name. I shook off the memory of his twisted face. Thinking about the past would just shut me down and I couldn’t afford to let that happen right now. Not if we were going to escape.

  “Hey, come on,” Rafe said. “It’s your first time in the Feral Zone. Of course you made mistakes.”

  “Like falling for the wrong boy?” I’d said it to be funny, since he was always teasing me about Everson, but Rafe grew still.

  He returned his gaze to the dark skyline. “No, you didn’t. He’s a stiff, but he’s a good guy. He won’t crawl out your window after you fall asleep or come on to your sister.”

  “I don’t have a sister.”

  “Missing the point.”

  “He’s not you. Got it.” I nudged his arm. “You know, for all your talk, you’re kind of a good guy yourself.”

  “Wrong. I’m the guy that stays alive.” He faced me, looking as serious as I’d ever seen him. “And the one you leave behind if you get the chance to escape. You understand?”

  “What?” I frowned. “No. You got me this far. I’m not going to leave you.”

  “Yeah, you are,” he said firmly. “I’ll be all right. I’m always all right. Lane, promise me if you get the chance, you’ll go and not look back.”

  “No!”

  The queen strolled over just then, preventing him from saying more. Just as well. There wasn’t any more to be said on that topic.

  “What are you two talking about all by yourselves?” she asked in a sultry tone.

  Rafe didn’t miss a beat. “We’re wondering what you have in mind for the feral down there.”

  “Oh, it’s just a new handler’s initiation test,” she said with an airy wave. “To see if he can kill a feral armed with only a baton and knife. Omar is convinced this one is a natural. But he’s been wrong before. I don’t see how an initiate will be a match for the feral he’s picked out. That thing has already maimed two men. Left one completely blind.” She smiled suddenly. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

  I felt a throb of loathing for her and the other members of the court, happily risking a new handler’s life just so they could enjoy the show.

  The handlers switched on the huge spotlights along the roof’s edge that were aimed at the yard and outer fence, turning the castle into an eerie oasis of light in the dark city. With a howl, the feral covered his eyes and skittered back until he’d reached the end of his chain.

  A door opened and the initiate stumbled into the yard as if shoved from behind. He eased back into the shadows along the castle wall as he surveyed the courtyard. Like the other handlers, he wore a long leather apron, but also some sort of burlap padding from his wrists to shoulders. The protective sleeves were so thick, he looked like his arms were in casts, although they seemed flexible enough as he reached for the weapons offered by a handler — a knob-topped baton and a knife. As the handler spoke to him, the initiate nodded and practiced extending the heavy steel baton.

  “You know, it’s strange, isn’t it? Finding three strays outside our compound in one day,” the queen mused. “Omar, where did the initiate say he was from?”

  “He didn’t. He refused to tell us anything, which is why he’s down t
here.” Omar’s one eye sharpened on us. “He put up quite a fight,” Omar went on. “Between that and his fatigues, I’m sure he’s military, though I don’t recognize the uniform.”

  After collapsing the baton, the initiate stepped out of the shadows and lifted his face. My heart stopped. In the yard three stories below stood Everson, dark haired, steel eyed, and fiercely defiant as he took in the crowded roof.

  “Did not see that coming,” Rafe murmured and then glanced at me. “Relax. He was trained to kill ferals.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me he’s a soldier?” the queen hissed at Omar. “What if he came to reestablish contact? What if he has orders for the king?”

  “If the West wanted to reestablish contact with the quarantine compounds, they wouldn’t send just one soldier.” Omar’s tone was so acid, the surrounding guests backed off as if afraid of getting splattered. “He’s a runaway or criminal. Either way, he’ll fit in here just fine.”

  “The king and I decide who fits in here. Not you.”

  Omar’s lips twitched as he unclipped a key from his belt loop, tossed it into the air, and caught it like he was flipping a coin. “I believe Queen Mahari said that once. And Queen Charmaine, she also thought she had a say in things.”

  Mahari. Charmaine. The lionesses caged in the yard. They were the king’s ex-wives! No wonder Queen Sindee was unbalanced and insanely jealous. She had no idea how much longer she would be queen. Or human, for that matter.

  Omar tossed up the key again, caught it, and reclipped it to his belt loop with a pat. It had to be the key to the ex-queens’ cage. If the current queen hadn’t been wearing her Ferae test, I would have sworn that she was on the verge of going feral based on how she was glaring at Omar. I hoped the two of them would rip each other to shreds. I turned my attention back to the yard below.

  With the bright lights aimed at him, I knew there was no way Everson could see exactly who was up here — didn’t know that I was watching. As he took position where the handler indicated, I was tempted to call down to him. I wanted some sort of connection with him. Wanted him to know — What? What feeling was welling up in me? Fear, yes, of course. And worry. But something else too. Something I didn’t have a name for. Then, when the handlers circled the snarling feral, I was suddenly glad that Everson wasn’t paying attention to the audience on the roof. He’d need all of his focus to keep from being bitten by the slavering madman.