by Keri Lake
“She did. They are two exceptional people.”
“Where are they now?”
“I’m hoping out east somewhere, thriving in a community said to be like Szolen.”
“What happened at Calico? What was it like inside, after they sealed the doors?”
He rolls onto his back, tucking his arm beneath his head as he stares up at the ceiling. “Imagine your worst nightmare. Hundreds of mutations, the likes of which I’d never even seen before.”
“It’s a wonder you made it out alive.”
“Some of us didn’t.” Brows flickering, he tightens his jaw, as if something troubles him. “I lost a brother. Cadmus.”
“He was attacked?”
“Trapped on the other side of the gate with them,” he says, while his fingertips lightly caress my shoulder, eyes focused, like he’s reliving the memory. “We couldn’t set him free. I’ve had so many dreams since then, imagining him down in those tunnels. The nightmares plague me constantly.”
“I’ve heard you. In your sleep. Telling something to stop.”
“Watching them drag him away was the hardest part.”
“He was still alive?”
“No. He took Nightshade before they attacked. But the ghost of him still haunts me. Should’ve been me on the other side of that gate, not him.”
“Don’t say that, Titus. Please. As much as it hurts me to hear of your brother’s death, I couldn’t fathom not being here with you now.”
The comment seems to break the spacey look in his eyes. He glances down at me, and back to the ceiling, pulling me tighter to him. “I couldn’t, either. Don’t even want to think about what or where I’d be right now. In some ways … you saved me, Thalia.”
“You? I don’t think a man like you ever needs saving. Even when you were at the mercy of those women, I’m certain you’d have come out alive.”
“I don’t mean physically saved. While a prisoner to Remus and Agatha, I was hollow inside. Empty. I no longer cared about this world, or what happened to me.”
“That’s why you didn’t fight them. Why you didn’t try to escape sooner?”
Lips forming a hard line, he nods. “I had no reason anymore. But when I saw you in that cage, in the arena, it was as if a bolt of lightning struck my heart and made it beat again.”
“I remember watching all those men before you die a horrible death. But the way you fought, so sure of yourself, so confident … I knew you were my Champion, even then.”
Cupping either side of my face, he slants his lips over mine for a kiss, but his brows twitch with a troubled expression when he pulls away. “I will kill anything that tries to harm you with my bare hands. I will burn down what’s left of this world to protect you.”
“And I will do the same for you. So I suggest you return safely when you set out tomorrow, because otherwise that’s going to be one hell of a fire to have to start.”
“You don’t have to worry.”
“I know. But I do, anyway” I press my hand to his, entwining my fingers between his much thicker digits. Thoughts drift to my mother and the times when my father would leave for war. How much she prayed. How staunchly she believed that she would see him in Heaven even after he died. “Do you believe in the afterlife?”
“I don’t know. I’d like to think that, one day, I’ll see the people I’ve lost.”
“Every time my father would leave to fight, he would tell my mother he loved her and she would respond with, forevermore. That’s it. Nothing more than that single word.”
The visual of my mother looking into his eyes as she spoke those words springs a feeling of unrest inside of me, as they were the same words she whispered to his empty casket during his funeral.
“I hated when she said it. It always felt like such a copout to me. Like she was trying to avoid saying she loved him back. Wasn’t that, at all, though. She was merely telling him that death wasn’t the end of her love for him. That she would see him again in the afterlife.” I study our entwined fingers and plant a kiss against his knuckles. “I realized how much more powerful those words were. How powerful her faith that he’d return to her, one way, or another. I haven’t decided whether or not I believe in Heaven. All I know is, if you don’t return, I’ll surely know hell exists.
Chapter 37
I carry the oversized pot to the stove and set it atop the glowing burner. I’ve only managed to scrounge up three canteens, but stumbled upon a couple of empty liquor jugs in the shed. Titus set out for the fuel early this morning, which leaves me gathering supplies for our journey. Four-hundred miles will only be a day’s drive, but my father always told me to prepare for the worst. And the worst might be that the vehicle breaks down and we have to travel by foot.
I open the oven door to remove the tray of venison meat I’ve dried, and set the hot pan on a stacked towel atop the counter. This, along with some berries I gathered earlier, should be enough food and water for a few days.
Keeping to task distracts my mind from Titus. I don’t even want to imagine him not returning. Physically, I’d learn to survive out here, but mentally and emotionally, I don’t know how I’d fare. The feelings I’ve developed for the Alpha in the last couple of weeks is unlike anything I’ve experienced before. While I’ve had crushes and dated a couple of boys in Szolen, it was more for my mother’s sake than my own. Women are meant to produce children, after all, not pursue other endeavors, such as my desires to become a physician. She always encouraged me to leave the fruitless passions, as she called them, to the men.
If not for my Nan, and her sharp wisdom and influence, I can’t even imagine what my life would be right now. Probably screwing some man, while his wife pretends to be happy about it. Nothing but an empty vessel, until the church eventually finds out that I can’t physically carry a child to term. My body is nothing more than a death trap for a baby.
Movement through the window out of the corner of my eye steels my muscles.
It’s too early for Titus. And where the hell is Yuma?
I duck low and stalk toward the drawer with the knives, sliding one out carefully before tiptoeing across the wooden floor toward the front door, just as Titus did.
The knob twists.
My stomach turns. Muscles tense, primed for attack.
The figure steps inside, and I swipe out, only grazing an arm.
“Hey! What the fuck!” The familiar voice skates down my spine, as I stare back at Lilith cradling her new cut. “Crazy bitch!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” The words hardly push past my clenched teeth, as I inch toward her with the knife still leading the way.
“Calm down. I’m not here for Titus. I’m here to make a truce. With you.”
“I don’t believe a word of that.”
“Another one of our girls turned Rager. One of the men we held captive escaped. One of the children from our village passed away from pneumonia. All in the span of a day since you left. My mother believes it’s a bad omen based on bad blood between you and me. She insisted that I make it right.”
Lowering my knife, I roll my eyes. “Then, you’re not here out of the kindness of your own heart, but your mother’s.”
The way her eyes scan the room proves my point.
“He’s not here.”
“He left you?” The intrigue in her voice taunts my temper.
“He ran out for supplies.”
Shoulders sagging, she huffs and plops down on a nearby chair.
“Make yourself at home, why don’t ya,” I mutter, returning to the kitchen to check on the boiling water. “Why did you really come here?”
“I told you why. We rely on our good fortune to survive. Why do you think we sacrifice the men?”
“Because you’re all psychotic?”
Snorting a laugh, she shakes her head and tugs a knife from her pocket, using it to clean her fingernails. “You haven’t lived out here long enough. You don’t know the dangers we face.”
“Y
es, you’re right. I’ve floated through the last few weeks unscathed. Like an angel.”
“You’ve taken up with a god. I very much doubt you’ve suffered much.”
Carefully removing the hot venison from the pan, I pile the meat on a napkin-covered plate to cool. “No god is capable of sparing us from suffering. Haven’t you heard the story of Jesus?”
“No, and I don’t care to.”
“I didn’t plan to preach.” I wipe my hands on a nearby towel and cross my arms. “Look, I’ve got stuff to do. I don’t really have time to entertain.”
“Did you know there’s a reward on your head?” she asks, ignoring me.
The question comes as a shock that I do my best to tamp down. “What?”
“Legion is offering a reward. Anyone who turns you over will be given provisions that are hard to come by out here. Food, supplies, and a chance to live within Szolen.”
“How do you know this?”
“Word spreads quickly, when such a prize is up for offer.”
“So, that’s why you’re here. To turn me over.”
“No. I’m here to ask you where you come from.” She lowers the blade, abandoning her nail-cleaning. “You weren’t born out here, that much I know.”
“And how do you know?”
“Because you’re not cynical. You still have this glint in your eye, like the world is a wonderful place.”
“I have no misconceptions about what this world is. It’s true, I’ve not lived the life you have, but that doesn’t make me unaware. To answer your question, though, I’m from Szolen.”
“The wall. And how did you find yourself on this side of it?”
“I was kicked out. Exiled to a convent.”
“Convent.”
“Sisters of Mercy.”
“I know that place well.” The peeling back of her lip to a snarl says she knows it far better than I do. “That’s no convent.”
“Well, obviously, I never made it there. I was kidnapped before I arrived. What do you know of it?”
Mouth sealed, she stares off for a moment, as if my question is too complicated for a simple answer. “A while back, my younger sister, Anais, became very ill. My mother couldn’t keep her fever down.” The tone of her voice is more somber than before, telling me this story probably isn’t going to have a happy ending. “We knew of the convent as something of a sanctuary for women out on the Deadlands. Back then, it was just the three of us trying to survive. So we took her there, in hopes they could make her well again.” Lilith double blinks, as if to stave off tears, and I catch the bob of a swallow in her throat. “She was severely dehydrated, and we were all hungry. The nuns took us in, but nothing was as it seemed. They took Anais to some part of the convent where we weren’t allowed to go. For days, they kept her there, only feeding us small bits of her progress. We were monitored, but fed and clothed. Then, one day, someone came to tell us that she’d contracted a contagious virus.” She stares off, eyes vacant, as if she’s been transported back to that day. “Worse than the Dredge. Of course, we weren’t allowed to see her. All they showed was some images they played on a moving box.”
A television, I’m guessing. A form of technology that most outside Szolen wouldn’t be familiar with anymore.
“Her eyes were so bloodshot, they looked black. Lifeless. Soulless.” Shaking her head, she frowns. “The innocent glint in them had faded away to something I didn’t recognize anymore. She was growling and snarling, banging against the walls of her room. Like an animal. They told us she’d be a danger to herself. To everyone. The old woman who ran the place told us it was best to put her down. Like a fucking rabid dog. So they did.”
“They let you go?”
“My mother, yes. They wanted to keep me. To teach me about your God. My mother made a deal with them. She would find another young girl to take my place there.”
“And did she?”
“Yes. It so happens she found two orphaned teenagers roaming the Deadlands in search of food. A brother and sister. And because she delivered two children, instead of one, and the girl was so beautiful, they released me. But it wasn’t until much later that I learned what they really did at that place.” Eyes lost in thought, she frowns harder. “That was no convent. It was hell.”
“How did you find out what they do?”
“Years ago, we raided a truck that was leaving the facility. We received word it was to be intercepted by marauders. We got to it first. A young girl was trapped in the back of that truck, and she was terrified. She told us of the things they did in that place. There’s a part of the convent that they call Purgatory. They do horrific things to the prisoners there.”
Purgatory. My mind rewinds back to the day Jack presented the Alpha that had supposedly murdered my father.
“It’s your choice, Grace,” he said to my mother. “At your word, we can end his life, or send him to Purgatory.”
“What happens, if I choose not to end his life?”
“He will live to wish he was already dead. Kept in a prison with no light. No hope. Eternal punishment.”
“I choose Purgatory.”
At the time, I thought it was merely reference to his fate, and that the prison was one in Szolen where they often put gypsies who’ve committed crimes against Szolen citizens, but I realize now, it was a place. A real place. Not an underground prison in Szolen, but something else entirely.
“The girl is with you now?”
“No. She wanted to return home. To Szolen. So we personally escorted her, along with a spy that we planted on the inside. They accepted her in, and she stayed with the girl’s family. As we understand, the girl was eventually sent back to the Convent. Our spy was intercepted by marauders. We’ve not heard from Gwen in weeks.”
Gwen.
“That’s because she’s dead. Our truck crashed, and we were dragged away by Ragers. A group of men found us.”
“A group of men? Anyone by the name of Sam?” she asks.
“Yes. He was one of them.”
“Sam.” An air of derision colors her tone, and at the sound of his name, more confusion swirls inside my head. “He was our middle man. The contact between us and Gwen, as he seems to have some friends on that side of the wall.”
Throwing up my hands, I shake my head. “Wait. You hate men. You sacrifice them. And he was a marauder who sold women. This doesn’t make sense.”
“Believe me, it was a very tenuous relationship. We exchanged favors with him and his men, for information that he was able to retrieve.”
“Favors?”
Leg hiked over the arm of the chair, she shrugs. “Sex. What else? You’d be surprised what men are willing to do for a reliable blowjob. These days, it’s like offering them a chest of gold.”
“Not all men are like that.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Oh, right. I forgot. You shacked up with the unicorn of all men. Trust me, if you knew how to wield the weapon between your thighs, you’d be running this shit world, with him at your beck and call.” The humor on her face fades to something more serious—something I’m thankful for, because her comment had my fingers tingling with the urge to slap it off myself. “Was Sam the one who killed her? Gwen?”
“No. It was a Rager.”
Sighing, she shakes her head. “It’s a shame what happened to her. Such a lively thing. Always liked her.” Eyes narrowed in suspicion, she tips her head. “So, how did you end up here?”
“Sam sold me to a woman as a prize.”
“A prize. To a woman?”
“She intended to sacrifice me to a monster. A mutation. Titus saved me.”
“You’re very lucky to have been saved by a god. Particularly one so … handsome.”
Perhaps it’s the events of the day, but I’m in no mood to entertain her thoughts about Titus. “So your sister …” I say, changing the subject “Do you believe she died of illness in that place?”
“No. I don’t. The girl we picked up told me of anoth
er young girl she met at the convent who sounded an awful lot like my sister. Had the same birthmark as our Anais.” She stuffs the knife back inside its holster at her hip. “My sister did eventually die, as I understand. They murdered her. And we will have our revenge on the Sisters of Mercy.”
“What’s the delay?”
“Getting inside is no easy feat. The place is a fortress. One, perhaps, only a god could breach.”
“I can assure you. Even fortresses have their weak points.” It’s safe to assume that if trucks come and go as they do at Szolen, there is a small bit of vulnerability there. “The trucks themselves might be an option. Have you monitored their delivery schedules?”
“Once every four days. Unless there’s a special delivery. We don’t have as much insight with Gwen gone.”
“Anything else you’ve noticed? Any deviances, outside of the trucks coming and going?”
“Yes. A few months ago, we disbanded a truck that carried a half dozen women in the back. Captives from the Deadlands.”
“Who was transporting them?”
“Men in uniform. Not Legion, though. These women were said to have worked as prostitutes for a woman. I’m guessing the one that tried to sacrifice you.”
“Madame Beaumont. I believe you’ve just uncovered your ticket into the Convent. I’m going to propose something prematurely, Lilith, as I’ve not yet discussed it with Titus.”
“What’s that?”
“Doing something I really don’t want to do, given the circumstances, but I think we might both benefit. I want to help you get inside that convent.”
A hard thunk at the door rouses me out of sleep, and I startle upright, searching the quiet room that’s lit only by the fire. The door opens, and Titus stands there, his body glistening with sweat over a layer of grime and dirt.
My heart damn near flies out of my chest at the sight of him, and I scramble to my feet, practically flinging myself at him. “Thank God you made it back!”
A slight odor clings to his body, likely a result of having walked nearly a hundred miles in a single day. I lift his hands to better see the bleeding chafed skin across his palms, from carrying the two gas cans the whole way, and with a tug, I guide him toward the bathroom. “Come on. I boiled water about an hour ago. It should be cooled enough for a bath.”