Fuck. Not now.
Look at me! Look. At. Me. Look at me!
The sudden terror, all the worse for being irrational, gripped him with an iron embrace. He choked out a growl, full of self-loathing. This stupid, stupid fear. Why was he like this? How could he stand there, a pistol pressed against his skull, and feel only the slightest anxiety—and yet a simple, growled command could turn his knees to water and want to piss himself?
Chandler was still ranting.
“You bastards,” he growled. “I should have killed you the second I saw you! This would never have happened! The Occs want you! Not us!”
“So what?” called a voice. Too shocked to do otherwise, Liam turned to find Jenn standing there, eyes blazing. She glanced at him, and he could read her worry and vengeance in her expression. “You’re going to hand us over? Now? Face it, we’re all dead.”
For a split-second, Chandler was too stunned to respond. Then he grinned.
“No,” he said, turning to aim his pistol at her. “But you definitely are.”
Liam moved without thinking. The fear was still there, strangling his roar into a squeak, but he moved anyway. Lunging, he grabbed the distracted lieutenant’s arm and drove them both to the ground. He heard, rather than felt, the guns around him firing, though from his sudden weakness he knew he’d been shot. More than once, in all likelihood.
Still, he had enough strength in him to keep the lieutenant’s arm pinned to the ground beneath him. He could feel the man fighting him, his free hand pummeling Liam’s ribs with vicious jabs. Even so, the pain was yet distant and he kept his face blank as he stared down at the man.
“Coward,” Liam muttered. There was so much he wanted to say to the man, but he could feel his wounds beginning to take their toll. His strength was waning. “Coward.”
With a shove, the lieutenant rolled them. Too weak to do otherwise, Liam stared up at him. Rifle by rifle, the nearby gunfire ceased, but the man did not seem to notice. His eyes were narrowed to mere slits as he made a show of checking his pistol’s slide to inspect the round in the chamber. Even more than his expression, it was that act that made him look like an Occ.
Again, Chandler pointed his weapon at Liam’s brow.
Then he shuddered, chest erupting with dozens of branches. They writhed, several yanking his arm aside while others curled up to his face. Thorns sliced at his throat, his eyes, his mouth, and the hot blood splattered Liam’s face. For a second, the lieutenant knelt there, body rigid. Then he slumped, discarded as the vines withdrew to the sickening sound of torn flesh.
“Liam!” Jenn whispered, voice urgent. She knelt at his side, fingers darting across his chest and abdomen. “Where are you hit?”
Liam shook his head. It didn’t really matter where he’d been shot. He’d either live or he wouldn’t.
“Others?” he asked.
Jenn shrugged, vines shifting to clear his obstructed vision. Hissing under his breath, Liam forced his head up several inches. It was worth the effort though, as the sight sent a flood of relief through him. Kathryn had somehow leapt or climbed nearly twenty feet, up the side of the pre-war building, and currently had her fangs buried in the neck of the former sentry. Noticing his gaze, she gave a playful wave.
Julie, on the other hand, did not regard the slaughter with such a carefree spirit. She leaned against the side of the building, hyperventilating as she hid her children’s faces against her chest. Aside from her obvious panic, however, she appeared otherwise unharmed.
“Liam!” Jenn growled, reclaiming his attention. “Where?”
He considered her question. His ribs ached where they’d been battered, but not with the focused intensity of a gunshot wound. It took several seconds of quiet contemplation before he felt the stinging numbness and confirmed he was not simply lying on a pile of rusty knives.
“My back,” he said.
“Can you move your legs?” she demanded.
Grimacing, he verified he could, in fact, move them. The effort sent a jolt of pain up his spine, though. Eyes closing, he nodded.
“How long?” she asked, quieter.
“A few minutes? An hour?” He shrugged, instantly regretting it. “Take the others and find a place to hide. I’ll follow when I can.”
Even as he said the words, Liam knew that Jenn would not obey. That was fine; he still had to try. And, her reaction did not disappoint. Scoffing, Jenn rolled her eyes and leaned in to give him a kiss that was as fleeting as it was gentle.
“Idiot,” she grumbled.
Chapter Fourteen
Liam tried to focus on healing his injuries. It was difficult to maintain concentration though, both for the flurry of movement around him as Jenn and Kathryn scurried into defensive positions nearby, and since the gradual diminishing of gunfire on the far side of town served as an improvised, unmistakable countdown.
He didn’t know which side had proven victorious. But, as before, it didn’t matter. The Occs would have no mercy for the wounded, and the Irregulars wouldn’t take kindly to would-be escapees surrounded by their fallen comrades.
So, despite the fact that he could tell his wounds had not fully closed, Liam struggled to his feet. His back felt as though he’d undergone the same rough treatment as Lieutenant Chandler and blood loss made his vision swim. Even so, his rising caught Jenn’s attention and he waved her over with a thin smile.
True to form, she noticed his injuries immediately.
“You’re not healed,” she protested, scowling.
“I’ll live,” he insisted. It wasn’t a lie. Perhaps it was all the practice he’d had recently or simply adrenaline, but he was almost certain he was healing faster than before. The last of the gunfire ceased then, and they shared a sharp intake of breath. “We don’t have time to wait.”
His voice must have carried, since both Kathryn and Julie chose that moment to approach. With difficulty, Liam bent down and retrieved a discarded pistol—Chandler’s or another’s, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter either; the reassuring weight of it in his hand served to calm his nerves.
Without another word, they took off a run. Liam tried to bring up the rear, since the most he could manage was a limping trot. Jenn would have none of it though and took up position behind him, vines spread into the familiar shield formation.
With every step he took, Liam expected to hear another wave of gunfire. It never came. Instead, they crossed the tilled farmland and mounted the fence beyond without as much as a shout of alarm. As they moved among the trees, Liam hesitated and cast a final look back.
A cloud of smoke hid the far side of the village, thick as morning fog. From the color and lack of motion, it looked to be from the battle and not a fire. He hoped he was right, though the alternative might have been preferable for the survivors.
Guilt twisted Liam’s gut as he made to join the others. He didn’t mourn Chandler’s death, of course, but the man’s furious words stuck with him. They’d been nothing but an outpouring of emotion, but…
This is your fault!
Had the man been right? Was Liam really responsible for the fate of those left behind? If the Occs razed the village to the ground, was that on him? They could have gone around, after all. There was no disputing that the ambush had stirred the Occs to action and, according to both Julie and the lieutenant, the Irregulars had been laying low for weeks without incident.
They continued to move hastily through the woods for several minutes, until the village faded from sight. Liam barely noticed the journey and was so lost in thought that he nearly collided with Julie from behind.
“Sorry,” he muttered, then realized she was not moving. Kathryn stood beside her, stationary as well. Frowning, he lifted his head.
Liam spotted the Hunter instantly. He stood twenty yards away, leaning casually against a tree. And, unlike the one they’d encountered before, his enhanced body was already evident. Nor did he wear the Occ camouflage. Rather, the
Hunter was clad in a plain grey, utilitarian outfit.
“Hello,” he growled. Still, he did not look at them. His gaze was focused on his hands, studying the large, twisted claws that had replaced his fingers.
For a second, there was silence as the Hunter’s greeting hung in the air between them. Then Julie whimpered. At the sound, the Hunter’s head snapped upward, overlarge eyes seeking her out.
“Quite the harem you’ve got there,” the Hunter said. At last, he pushed off from his tree and took a casual step closer. As Jenn’s vines rose, he paused and gave a wolfish smile. “You must work fast.”
“Kat,” Liam murmured, leaning forward without taking his eyes off the Hunter. “Fast and—”
“Really?” snapped the Hunter, face twisting into a frown. “Just like that? You’ll have your pet vampire kill me?”
Surprised, Liam straightened. At this, the Hunter’s grin returned, wider than before.
“That’s right, Liam,” he growled. “I know all about your little pets. And about you too, Fuyuan.”
Liam stiffened, forcing down the spike of fear that rose at the mention of the name. Glaring, he redoubled his ongoing effort to heal his back. If the Hunter knew his old name, then he certainly knew his abilities too. That alone made him more dangerous than the rest.
And also, there was something oddly familiar about the Hunter’s face. It was unfamiliar enough that Liam knew he’d never known him personally. Yet something in his eyes felt almost like a memory. Had they crossed paths at the Institute before?
“Who are you?” Liam asked. He knew the Hunter was almost certainly just stalling them, but a part of him couldn’t resist. “What do you want?”
The Hunter shrugged.
“The Institute wants you dead,” he said, seemingly unconcerned by the notion. “But, you probably already knew that. You saw the soldiers. Half the Institute is out here, looking for you. That’s why you didn’t ask. So, what do I want?”
The Hunter’s face twisted suddenly. Liam took it for a snarl at first, until he noticed the wry smile and realized there was no malice in the expression. Instead, he appeared almost… embarrassed? It wasn’t a look Liam had dreamed Hunter’s capable of making.
“It’s funny,” the Hunter said, look fading. Again, he glanced down at his claws. “Or, petty, I suppose. But this is actually your fault.”
There it was again. Blame, responsibility, and guilt.
“You were supposed to be the Hunter. Zhao—one of the docs—spent weeks adjusting the serum to respond to your enhancement. It was almost ready, too. If you’d waited another day, then our places might have been switched.”
He looked up. Gone was the thoughtful, almost bemused look. In its place was a vicious, unmasked loathing that sent chills down Liam’s spine and made his still-healing wounds burn. Whatever effort he’d been using to keep his distended jaw from dropping open ceased, and his mouth opened to reveal a mouthful of teeth, sharpened to points.
“I guess I want you dead,” he growled. The grating, crushed-gravel quality of his voice returned. “I’ll take what should have been mine. The girls. The freedom. All of it.”
“Wait!” Jenn barked. She took a step forward, twisting her arm from Liam’s grasp when he made to stop her. “Just wait a second.”
The Hunter eyed her, shoulders fluttering and shoulders rising and falling with each breath. He did not pounce, though.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“Not important.”
“It is!” Jenn protested. “It’s—”
“No,” the Hunter interrupted. He barked a laugh. “That’s my name. Wuyong. Not Important. Worthless.”
If the exchange caught her off guard, Jenn did not show it. She shook her head.
“It doesn’t matter what they called you,” she said. “You had a name before that one. The Institute is the one who did this to you. They’re the ones who hurt you. Why kill Liam when you can kill them? We’re going to destroy the Institute. Help us do it.”
“Can’t,” Wuyong growled. “No one can. They’re too strong.”
“No one can escape the Institute, either,” Jenn said, softer. She lifted her hands, gesturing to herself, then Liam, and even Kathryn in turn.
For just an instant, Liam saw the conflict in the Hunter’s eyes and dared to hope. The difference Wuyong could make to their cause was unimaginable. And with a Hunter’s might alongside them, the foes who might threaten them were few and far between.
Wuyong didn’t even bother to speak before leaping. He lunged for Jenn, claws outstretched and jaw dropping open. She yelped at the suddenness of his assault and it was only the instinctive way her vines swept in to shield her face that saved her life. They could not stand up to a Hunter’s assault though and fell to the dirt as Wuyong’s claws sliced through them by the dozens. Jenn cried out as the claws found her shoulder.
By then, Kathryn was moving as well. She hurled herself at the Hunter, faster than the eye could follow.
Unfortunately, Wuyong proved supernaturally quick as well. He shrugged, twisting at the waist as Kathryn collided with him. Her nails tore furrows in his side, but the momentum of her strike was wrong and offered no purchase. She bounced off him, hissing.
Liam raised his pistol, heart pounding. He wanted to curse, but everything was happening to fast. Between his adrenaline and the lingering effects of his injuries, he couldn’t hold the weapon steady enough to aim.
And then, Julie was there, prying the pistol from his grasp. In the time it took to blink, she claimed it, aimed, and fired once. Liam saw the Hunter jerk violently, slumping over, and then flinched himself as the woman tossed the weapon back to him.
“For fuck’s sake,” she grumbled, words taking a second to penetrate the ringing of his ears. Still tucked against Julie’s chest, Morgan began to wail. Wincing, she did her best to comfort the child then leaned down to check on her son, as well. “You’ve got to be faster than that, kid. Morgan’s going to wind up deaf at this rate.”
Not even bothering to tuck his pistol away, Liam rushed to Jenn’s side. She was wincing, sucking air through her teeth as she pressed a hand to her wounded shoulder. Wuyong’s body lay across her legs, but she made no effort to move it. Still, she squinted up at him and nodded appreciatively.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Thank Julie,” he replied, using his foot to roll the Hunter’s body off her. Kneeling, he indicated her shoulder. “Let me see that.”
Jenn brushed him aside as she climbed to her feet. Her injured arm hung limply at her side, the blood leaking out beneath her fingers.
“Later,” she said, kicking the still-twitching corpse at her feet. “I’ll be fine.”
“Jenn,” he said sternly. “I know—”
“Liam,” she growled suddenly, glaring. “The Occs heard that. We need to move. I will be fine.”
He wanted to argue. Despite her words, the seriousness of Jenn’s wound could not be missed. But her words and the determination gleaming in her eyes made it impossible to argue.
“If you slow us down, I’m carrying you,” he warned her.
Jenn grinned, briefly, and took off at a lopsided run. Liam waited, just long enough to confirm that Julie and Kathryn were keeping pace, then followed after.
It was not until they paused, roughly an hour later, that Liam realized the sun was now at their back. The hills and game trails they’d followed had turned them east—toward the Institute.
***
“One of these days,” Jenn snarled through gritted teeth. “We’re going to make it from sunrise to sunset with—ow! Careful! Without someone getting shot. Or stabbed. Or clawed to shreds by Hunters.”
Liam merely smiled, unwilling to laugh as he picked splinters from Jenn’s wound. She’d managed to keep herself from bleeding too terribly along the way, though the tattered remains of her vines had chafed the skin and left it full of plant matter. He continued working, an
gling her as he went to use the last of the daylight to inspect her. Though he had closed most of the wounds themselves with his blood, he didn’t trust her body to expel the last of the debris on its own.
“It was worth it though,” she said.
Liam looked up sharply. Jenn wasn’t teasing him; her expression was wholly earnest. Aside from the knowing smirk, of course.
“Remember what the Hunter said?” she continued. “Those Occs came from the Institute. Half of the Institute is out looking for us. We can sneak in, free the others like us, and take the whole place before the Occs know what’s happening! If we attack them now, they won’t stand a chance!”
The hair on the back of Liam’s neck stood up. He did likewise, staring down at his blood-soaked hands. Their stickiness left him nauseous and he turned to Kathryn. The girl crouched contentedly nearby, sipping from his canteen. Waving her over, he held out his hands, palms cupped expectantly.
He should have known better. Instead of cooperating, Kathryn seized his wrists and popped the first of his bloody fingers into her mouth.
Startled, Liam tried to pull back. The girl’s grip proved too strong, however. So trapped, he looked to Jenn and cleared his throat.
“Won’t stand a chance?” he said.
Jenn sighed, but her reaction was lost on Kathryn. The girl nodded enthusiastically.
“Fath an’ throng!” she mumbled, mouth full of fingers. Apparently satisfied with her contribution, she began to hum.
The buzzing warmth and wetness of Kathryn’s mouth were distracting, while the caress of her tongue proved even more so. It reminded him of intimate moments he’d shared with Jenn. To be reminded of them now, by a kneeling Kathryn, no less, was unsettling in the extreme.
And, to make matters worse, she knew it. Kathryn’s large, golden eyes were half-lidded as she stared up at him suggestively.
And then, the corner of her mouth twitching upward, she moaned softly.
Liam yanked his hand back so violently he nearly sliced it on her fangs. His heart was racing, the echoes of Kathryn’s lusty voice doing more for him than he cared to admit. He glared at her and snatched his canteen back to finish the job her tongue had begun.
Feral Empires: First Spark Page 14