The More Things Change

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The More Things Change Page 21

by Emily Holloway


  "Jared will take charge of his mom, and Gabby will take Dominic," Maya says. "We can carry them if we have to. But I think ten miles is doable. What about your sister?"

  "She's probably in better shape than either of them, to be honest," Jackie says. "Just because she isn't in the militia doesn't mean she's been sitting on the couch all the time. She does help out with the manual labor, and of course she's probably healthier, in terms of nutrition, et cetera. I think she'll be okay. I'll take charge of her if she's not."

  "Okay. And I'll take charge of you."

  Jackie wrinkles her nose at Maya. "Okay," she says, and leans in for a kiss. "Oh! Before I forget. Brought these for Dominic." She fishes for her pants and pulls something out of the pockets. "It's a magnet and a cork. He should be able to make a compass out of it. Only a few guys have them here, since we don't really need them in town, and I don't want to raise suspicion by stealing one. But we'll need one. He'll know how to do it, I think. He was a Boy Scout."

  "Okay." Maya takes the items.

  "I'd better get going," Jackie says. She tugs her pants on. "I'll try to come back again before the supply run, but if I don't get the chance, I'll be here at dawn in five days."

  Maya gives her another kiss. "Okay. I'll see you soon."

  Chapter Fourteen

  As their escape creeps closer, Ryan finds that he's starting to think altogether too much about what Maya had said. There probably wasn't going to be any coming back. Everyone agreed on that. And as much as there's a part of him that wants to walk away and never look back, he does wonder what Nick would do if he knew they were planning to leave. What he had said to Maya was correct. He could have left at any time. Nick didn't care then; why would he care now?

  Damn Maya anyway, Ryan thinks, and resolves not to worry about it. Nick has made his own choices, and he has no right to an opinion on what Ryan will or won't do. If anything, Ryan wants to send him a message telling him that he's left, that he didn't care, that Nick should stop thinking about him. But he can't exactly do that. He supposes Nick will hear about it eventually. He seems to talk to Solomon on occasion.

  He's in the middle of setting down the supplies he'd gotten that day from various households when the door at the front of the motel bangs open. "Need some help here!" Siobhan shouts, and Ryan jogs over to see what's going on. Siobhan is supporting Gabby, whose shirt is soaked through with blood.

  "What happened?" Ryan asks. He doesn't panic, although he does reach for Gabby and help her into the ruined lobby.

  "Those—fucking wendigos—" Gabby's voice is higher-pitched than normal, laced with pain and adrenaline, "chased us out of zone four. I was so busy trying—not to get eaten—didn't see the patrol." Her teeth are gritted with pain. "Got me in the shoulder."

  "All right, here," Ryan says, helping her lie down. He uses his claws to slice her shirt away from the wound so he can look at it. What he sees there makes him pause. "Shit," he says, under his breath. The wound is small, puckered, like she had been hit by a dart or an arrow. There are dark red lines lacing outward. He leans down and sniffs cautiously.

  "What is it?" Siobhan asks.

  "Wolfsbane," Ryan says. "We need to get her to Solomon's." He stands up and lifts Gabby with him. She gives a faint moan. "Find Maya. Have her meet us there."

  Siobhan nods and takes off. Ryan is left to carry Gabby on his own, hoping that he doesn't run into anyone on the way there. Fortunately, he doesn't. He comes in through Solomon's door just as he's shutting the lights out. "We're closing for the—" the sorcerer says, but then he sees Ryan and Gabby. "Lay her down here."

  Ryan does as he's told. Solomon pushes the shirt away and goes to look at the wound. A slight grimace crosses his face. "What is it?" Ryan demands.

  "Well," Solomon says, with his usual level of reserve, "given how far the discoloration has spread, it must have been a large dose. I can't treat her with what I have. She needs the antidote."

  "Son of a bitch," Ryan says. They've all been hit by patrols before. Sometimes they're carrying wolfsbane-laced weapons, sometimes they're not. This has never happened before. Normally, Solomon has been able to leech the poison out. But he knows that the militia keeps the antidote, so they can use it on captured werewolves to get them to talk. "That might not be possible."

  Solomon doesn't flinch. "Then she's going to die."

  Maya comes bursting in through the front door. "What happened?"

  "She's been hit," Ryan says. "Wolfsbane dart. We need the antidote. Can we get hold of Jackie?"

  The color drains out of Maya's face. She sits down beside Gabby and smoothes her hair back out of her forehead. Gabby gives a little whimper and clutches at her sister's hand. "Hey, hey, you're going to be fine," she says. "We'll make sure of it, okay?" She's quiet for a minute, obviously trying to think. "I don't know," she finally says. "She just told me yesterday that she might not be able to come see us again until the day of the supply run. She doesn't want to take risks right now."

  "Even if you were able to get in touch with her, I'm not sure she would have access," Solomon says. "I'm sure it's kept under tight lock and key."

  Maya's mouth tightens. "Well, it's the best option we have, so we'll start there."

  *~*~*

  Nick is just finishing up with his classes for the day when he hears his brother talking, bright and cheerful as always. "Hey, what's going on?" he asks, shouldering his rifle and walking over. He's feeling a little cheerful himself. Jackie has been back in the militia for a couple weeks now, and although he's not thrilled with that, his daughter has been a lot happier lately. He can't argue with success.

  "Oh, man, Nick, you should have seen it!" Leo says. "I guess there's some infighting down in the slums, just what you'd expect from these monsters, right? And two werewolves basically ran right into my patrol. Jumped up onto a roof and made a perfect target. It was like a video game, it was so perfect."

  "Bring them in?" Nick asks, feeling his stomach churn a little.

  "Nah, she got away," Leo says. "Her friend helped her out. But I got her, so, she won't be getting up any time soon."

  "Wolfsbane dart?" Nick asks.

  "Yeah. You know I always carry that way."

  "Yeah," Nick agrees. "Gonna try to track her?"

  "Hell yes. She'll go limping back to her den to die there, and with any luck, they'll be so focused on their dying sister that they won't see me coming. You game?"

  "No, thanks," Nick says. "A bloody massacre has always been more your style than mine."

  "Suit yourself."

  Nick ducks into the bathroom and sits down in the stall, holding his head in his hands. He knows that the Callaghan pack has been feuding with the wendigos over territory. And he knows that the Cervantes pack doesn't usually venture out during daylight. That means that whoever was shot was probably part of Maya's pack. Part of Ryan's pack.

  His hands start to shake. Even if Leo doesn't track her down—because Nick has faith that the Callaghans are smart enough not to sit around their own den all sad and vulnerable—she'll still die. Leo has a tendency to load his darts heavy, and at that dose, it's fast. It only takes about twenty-four hours to kill. If they could get in contact with whomever the mole was, they might be able to get the antidote and save her. But it's a pretty big might.

  You've never been willing to take risks for me, Ryan had said, and Ryan had been right.

  Decision made, Nick stands up and leaves the bathroom. Leo's busy organizing his raiding party. It's easy to slip into his office and grab a little vial of the antidote. He pulls his jacket on and walks out of the complex. The day's light is fading. One of the men at the gate says, "Should we leave a light on for you?" and laughs. His trips out of the complex lately have led to some talk. Most of the guys seem to think he's cheating on Helen with someone in town, and he doesn't care to correct them.

  He knows where to go. Leo has no idea, but there's only one place that the Callaghan pack would take a wounded beta. He shoves his hand
s down into his pockets and walks faster. Even if he ran into a patrol, nobody would dare challenge him. But there's no point in getting cocky.

  The front door of Solomon's is locked, so he knocks. Nobody answers, so he knocks harder. Solomon opens it a minute later and greets Nick with a pleasant smile. "We're closed for the day, Captain Donovan."

  Nick holds up the vial. "I know."

  Solomon looks surprised, but he stands back to let Nick in and gestures for him to proceed into the clinic's back room. He takes a minute to survey the situation. Gabby is lying on the table, her face pale and sweaty, breathing labored. There's a cloth that's sticky with dark fluid resting on her shoulder. Ryan is sitting beside her, dabbing at her forehead with a clean rag, while Maya paces around the back. Both of them stop in almost comical surprise when they see him.

  "I can save her," Nick says, before they can make any presumptions.

  Ryan's face hardens, closes off. "It won't mean anything, Nick."

  "I know," Nick says. "Just…let me save her."

  "Damn right we're going to let you save her," Maya says, stomping over. She's already got the vial out of Nick's hand before Ryan can say anything. Nick watches in silence while Solomon takes it and gets a syringe out of a drawer. A bare moment later, he's injecting it into the vein closest to the wound. She moans a little but then settles. Ryan smoothes back her hair and holds her hand, one thumb rubbing at her knuckles.

  Nick watches all this in silence. Ryan looks up at him a moment later. "Why are you still here?"

  "Jesus, Ryan," Maya says, and sighs. To Nick, she says, "Thank you."

  Nick gives her a nod. "She should be all right now." With that, he turns around and leaves Solomon's.

  He's made it about halfway back when he sees a patrol. But not just any patrol. It's larger than usual, practically bristling with weapons, and it heads straight for him. He stops walking and lets them surround him in silence.

  "Nick, Nick, Nick…" Mitchell says, shaking his head. "I caught you red-handed."

  Nick closes his eyes for a long minute. "It was a trap, huh? You must've gotten tipped off about where the Callaghans were scrounging. Rather than send a raid, you sent Leo with his wolfsbane and then sent him to brag about it straight into my ear."

  "Probably should've seen it coming," Mitchell agrees. "Well, son, I hope it was worth it."

  "Shouldn't you be raiding their den?" Nick asks.

  "They've got a witch on their side, don't they?" Mitchell asks. "A couple of men were following you but couldn't figure out where you went. It was like you just vanished. So they're safe for now. You, on the other hand…"

  "Are you going to shoot me, or are you going to talk me to death?" Nick asks.

  "Oh, I'm not going to shoot you, Nick," Mitchell says. "You've been convicted of high treason. That means you get hanged right in the town square. And then, my boy…we'll see if your werewolf friends feel like returning the favor. I hope they do. I really do indeed. Because we'll be ready for them when they come for you."

  *~*~*

  Jackie is sound asleep when there's a frantic pounding on her bedroom door, which is then yanked open, and Valerie is shaking her. "Jackie—Jackie, wake up, we need—"

  "What?" she asks, rubbing a hand over her face and trying to come back to full coherency. There have been way too many late nights lately. Then she sees the tear streaks on Valerie's face and how pale she is. "What is it, what's wrong?"

  "Grandpa's here and he says—he says Dad's been caught helping werewolves, that—that he's been convicted of treason—"

  Valerie can barely talk, but Jackie has gotten the picture. She throws her blankets off and charges out into the living room in her pajamas. Helen is sitting on the sofa, her fists tightly clenched in her lap. Mitchell is across from her, wearing a smirk. "– wouldn't require you to leave the compound," is what he's saying as Jackie comes out of his bedroom.

  "What's going on?" Jackie asks.

  Helen's jaw tightens. "Your father," she says, her voice calm and even, "was caught helping a werewolf escape a patrol. He's been convicted of treason and will be dealt with accordingly."

  Jackie doesn't have to ask what that means. "When?"

  "Noon," Mitchell says, and Jackie blanches. That's less than four hours away. What the hell can she do in four hours? "It's a little faster than usual, I admit, but I don't want to give those curs in town any time to assemble any sort of rescue force."

  That's one hundred percent horseshit, and Jackie knows it. Mitchell would love for the werewolves in town to try to rescue Nick. But he's telling the truth in that he doesn't want to give them a lot of time to plan how. "What—what did he do?" she asks, mind spinning as she tries to figure this out. Because Nick doesn't help the werewolves. Jackie wouldn't have had to do even a quarter of what she's done in the past year if he did.

  "Well, when Leo was on patrol, he managed to shoot a werewolf with one of his wolfsbane darts," Mitchell says. He's clearly quite proud of himself for catching Nick in the act of treason, and not at all trying to hide it. "Nick was found taking the antidote to the pack."

  Jackie looks at Valerie. She stares back helplessly. And Jackie can't help but wonder if it's all some sort of trap, some ruse. Is this how Mitchell is going to try to get Jackie to admit to being the mole? By accusing her father and executing him for Jackie's crimes?

  "B-But Grandpa, you can't," Valerie says, her voice trembling. "You can't just—you can't execute him. He's our father."

  "A lot of the people who have been killed by werewolves have been fathers too," Mitchell says gravely. "Like Jackie's father."

  Jackie goes pale with rage. "Don't—don't you dare bring my parents into this," she chokes out. "Don't you fucking dare."

  "It's just the truth," Mitchell says.

  Jackie is an inch away from losing it, and she knows she's being taunted, knows that Mitchell is baiting her. She scrapes up what self-control she has left and spits out, "Yeah, well, the guy you've got in jail is no father of mine. He could have gotten me killed the day he helped those mutts rescue their stupid puppies, and then he had the nerve to look me in the eye and tell me that he was trying to protect me? That son of a bitch, you can execute him all day for all I care, I'll execute him myself, give me the fucking noose and I'll do it for you."

  Mitchell's mouth curves into a smile. "You know what, Jackie, I think I'll take you up on that," he says. "That will make a real impression on the crowd about what we think of traitors."

  "Then I guess I'll see you at noon," Jackie shoots back.

  Mitchell stands up. He doesn't look at Valerie or Jackie. Instead he turns to Helen and says to her, "It's a shame it has to be this way."

  Things go fuzzy around Jackie, a little blurry. Her heartbeat is suddenly very loud in her ears. Her mother is screaming her father's name. She can smell blood and gunpowder but she doesn't know what the smells are. Everything is fading in and out with the beat of her pulse.

  The door shuts behind Mitchell, and Jackie bursts into noisy, messy tears. She sits right down on the floor where she is and starts sobbing into Valerie's shoulder. Valerie hugs her tightly, her fingers digging into Jackie's back, clutching at her shirt.

  "Pull yourself together," Helen snaps, and Jackie tries, her chest heaving as she tries to shove the memories back into the dark hole she normally keeps them in. She hears another door slam, and then Valerie is rocking her back and forth.

  Gradually, she puts the pieces of the world back together. She pulls away from her sister and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. Her entire body is shaking, and she can barely swallow around the lump in her throat. Valerie gets her a glass of water and helps her take small sips. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice hoarse. She's been crying too.

  "No," Jackie says, and wipes her eyes again. "No, I'm not. You?"

  Valerie shakes her head. "What are we going to do?"

  "I have no idea," Jackie says, "but I know who's going to help us do it."

 
*~*~*

  With the supply run now three days away, Maya has declared that their supplies are as good as they're going to get. She doesn't want to chance anyone else getting shot when they're this close to leaving. The idea that they might have to leave someone behind had haunted her dreams the previous night, while she slept in a pile with Gabby and Ryan.

  It's just past dawn when she wakes, and finds her sister sleeping peacefully. The rest of the pack is gathered around them, cuddled together. She crawls out of the pile to build the fire back up. Solomon had given them some herbs the previous night that he said they could brew into tea that would help Gabby build her strength back up.

  Kyra and Siobhan are on watch, and Maya checks in with them briefly to make sure that everything's okay. She's not surprised to see that Ryan is already up as well, sitting in the front of one of the rooms down the hall, keeping an eye out the window. "You're not on watch," Maya says to her brother.

  "I didn't particularly feel like sleeping," Ryan says.

  Maya sits down next to him. "Nick looked okay last night."

  "Mm," is all Ryan says in reply.

  "He didn't have to do that," Maya points out. Ryan just shrugs. "You know that Gabby would be dead if it weren't for him, don't you? We never could have gotten the antidote without him. Not in time, anyway."

  "I'm well aware of that," Ryan says. Since it's clear that Maya isn't going to drop it, he says, "Nick could have saved the rest of our family and didn't. It seems he's had a change of heart. That's wonderful for him, but frankly I don't care."

  Maya looks at him wearily. "You know he did it for you, right?"

  "Is that supposed to help? He couldn't have just decided that he didn't think yet another innocent child didn't deserve to get murdered by his brother? I'm not altogether impressed by Nick having done this for me, if we're going to be one hundred percent honest. It's not as if—"

 

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