by Kat Falls
Everson swerved in time, which spilled the lionesses onto the floor. Mahari sent him an implied death threat. “Your driving leaves much to be desired, boy.”
“How old are you?” he demanded.
She shrugged and stretched out like a lounging cat which, of course, was exactly what she was. “What does it matter?”
“’Cause I only need to look at you to know I’m older. Don’t call me boy.”
She gave him a long, slow blink. “Have you been married?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve never been married.”
“I have. To a tyrant. A violent, insane tyrant. I was crowned his queen and ruled the Chicago Compound alongside him. A man I hated with every cell in my body. I dispensed justice and brought back electricity. Don’t talk to me about years, boy.”
Everson ground his jaw and probably a retort.
“Everson’s royalty too,” I said. “The other guards call him ‘the prince.’ ”
Mahari sat up, interest piqued.
“Not to my face.” He shot me a warning look.
He needn’t have bothered. I wasn’t going to tell her who his mother was. I wasn’t stupid. And watching Mahari rip out his throat wasn’t going to get me any closer to Rafe. She slid her golden gaze onto me, no longer languid.
Her muscles bunched as she brought her legs under her. Easier to pounce with leverage. “Why do they call him the prince?” she asked.
I gave a deliberate shrug. “He’s bossy.”
Neve gave a joyful shout. “Presents!” she cried, tossing a rolled sleeping bag over her shoulder. She’d lifted the lid on the metal box in back and was digging through the contents.
“Leave it all in there,” Everson ordered. “We might need it.”
I caught Mahari’s eye. “Like I said — bossy.”
Everson scowled as Neve ignored him, piling things on the floor of the boat beside her: tins of crackers, a bottle of iodine, matches, and a tarp. Then, with a happy cry, she snatched up a pack of jerky and settled on the boat’s wet floor. “Can I drive?” she chirped.
“No!” Everson and Mahari said in unison.
With a harrumph, Neve ripped open the jerky with her teeth. She looked so put out, I had to bite my lips to hold back a laugh.
The other lionesses made themselves comfortable, stretching out their Glamazon limbs. At least they’d be able to hold their own against any attacking feral.
Key words being their own.
By the time we were miles downriver, the clouds had covered the moon completely, and I couldn’t see much beyond the bow, not even upcoming bends until we were yards from the shoreline. Despite this, Everson never lost control of the boat or swamped it while swerving to avoid mud banks, floating trees, and bridge wreckage.
We passed only one patrol boat, which paid us no mind once Everson flicked a green light on the console on and off three times. Good thing he’d insisted on coming along, though his mother would never let me back on Arsenal after this little adventure. So what? I wanted to live with my dad anyway. And I was taking the orphans with me.
When it started to rain, Mahari told Charmaine to take over lookout duty. “We see better than you in the dark,” she explained. “And Charmaine sees best of all.”
I wanted to ask, “Because she’s been infected the longest?” But I didn’t, not being up-to-date on manimal etiquette.
Clinging to the handhold rope, I made my way past Mahari and stepped over Neve to resume my seat on the metal box in the back. Something large thudded against the side of the boat and then crashed back into the murky water. I wasn’t the only one to yelp.
Deepnita peered over the side. “A fish … I think.”
“Let’s hope so,” I said, quietly grateful that fish couldn’t catch Ferae. I’d have hated to run into a catfish infected with lion or any strain that would give it teeth.
“Once most of the humans died off, the birds and fish came back like crazy,” Neve said, and then noticed my surprise. “What? My dad told me.”
“What else did he say?” Everson asked.
“That the predators came back fast after that. Wolves and bobcats first, later the bears and cougars. Now they’re everywhere.”
“There’re bears and cougars everywhere?” I asked, only to wish I hadn’t when I got three nods in answer.
“Don’t worry,” Mahari crooned. “One whiff of us and they steer clear.”
“Okay.” Which meant I’d be sticking close to them. Well, not Charmaine. The way she kept rolling her head on her shoulders and cracking her jaw did not give me a sense of security. She caught me looking at her and growled. I quickly turned back to Neve. “Where’s your father now?”
“Dead,” she said simply. “You killed him.”
“What? No!” The denial burst out of me, which was stupid because Neve obviously got things wrong — a lot of things. She’d just named me because …
Then I remembered. She’d been there, that night in the zoo —
I forced the name past the tightness in my throat. “Chorda?”
At her nod, I just stared because I couldn’t have killed someone’s father. “You look nothing like him,” I said finally. A lame argument, but it was true. She was blond and fair, and he’d been, well, orange. “Nothing,” I insisted.
She waved aside my words. “He adopted me when I was little — when he was married to ’Nita.”
I exhaled a shaky breath. An apology was out — I wasn’t sorry for killing Chorda — but to say nothing? Murdering psychopath or not, he was her father. “I had to, uh, to defend myself. He — Chorda … He was going to eat my heart.”
She blinked and then gave me a smile that was one part surfer girl and two parts shark. “Don’t worry. I’m not mad. Daddy needed to be killed.”
Okay. Creepy. But … true.
“He was crazy,” she added.
“Like Wraith,” Charmaine added.
“Are you ready for that?” Mahari asked me. “You’re going to have to kill Wraith to get his blood.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here. I promised to put him down if he’s feral.”
They seemed unsurprised by this and just nodded. “When you find him, don’t hesitate,” Deepnita said. “Just shoot. He won’t know you, and trying to make him remember will just get you killed.”
“Don’t hesitate,” I said under my breath.
An hour later, the rain launched an attack, pounding down on us until we were soaked and beaten. Everson squinted to see, his free hand shielding his eyes as he slowed the boat until we barely cut through the choppy water. “We need to stop,” he shouted over the downpour.
Nobody put up an argument — not even me. There was no point in trying to find Rafe when all trace of him would be washed away. However, there was no good place to pull ashore and wait out the storm. Abandoned industrial sites dotted the Missouri side of the river, which Everson said was exactly where guards on patrol would go to lie low. “We’d be safer on the Illinois side,” he explained.
Safer in the Feral Zone? Now, that was a thought. But there was no good place to pull up the boat. The river clashed against limestone cliffs and rock formations that looked like they belonged in the Old West.
“Ahead! Turn!” Charmaine screeched as a hard turn in the river rushed into view. Everson spun the wheel — too late. His eyes went wide. The river had undercut the shore, leaving a deep ledge of rock hanging over the water, which we zoomed under, ducking as we went.
Once we were clear of the ledge, Mahari twisted to look back. “We’re almost there!” She pointed past me to a giant pine tree growing at the edge of the overhang. “Close to where the rivers merge. Keep going.”
So, we kept going, despite the rain, and finally the bank widened along the bottom of the ridge, until suddenly a rickety pier jutted into the current, directly in front of us. A welcome sight. The rain had even eased up. I hefted on the backpack Everson had given me in the lab. But just as he sidled us up to the pier, something b
urst through the brush on the riverbank, rolling and snarling. No, two somethings — animals — entangled, flailing. It was impossible to get a good look at them from the water, but the sounds were enough to get Everson to lay on the speed. As we took off, the thrashing gave way to a goose-bump-raising screech, followed by bone crunching. I couldn’t help but look back, as did the others. Going by Everson’s grimace, he was as thankful as I was for the dark.
Another growl cut through the night — so much closer this time. So close the boat had to be inches from the shore. I started to turn when hands grabbed me from behind and yanked me right off the metal box. I hit the floor of the boat with a landing that was as soft as falling backward into bed, but my relief was short lived. My eyes widened as I stared up into the face of a growling … Charmaine.
How had she moved back here so fast?
With my backpack wedged under me, putting an arch in my spine, I couldn’t roll aside fast enough. She swung one leg over both of mine and pinned me into place. Her hands dug into my shoulders as she pressed me down, her ferocious face inches from mine. Inches! And she was drooling! Pure terror flooded me. I whipped my face aside — terrified her saliva would get in my eye — and clamped my mouth shut, forcing back a scream.
“Get off her!” Everson shouted.
A growl rumbled low in Charmaine’s throat. I sensed movement all around me but didn’t dare make a sound other than my thundering heart. If it pounded any harder, it would crack a rib.
“Don’t!” Mahari growled at someone. “She’ll bite.”
Bite? She looked ready to tear out my trachea.
“Hey, kitty,” Deepnita crooned from my right. Her knees dropped into my sight line.
Charmaine’s rage-filled glare shifted from me to Deepnita, though she didn’t lift her head. Her eyes narrowed to slits as the growl deepened inside her throat to a vicious snarl.
The boat rocked as someone sprang up. “Char!” Neve shouted. “Let her go!”
Charmaine’s grip on my shoulders eased, but she didn’t let go. She moved back a bit, though — no longer hovering all the way over me. Her lips pressed together to hide her canine teeth, and she took deep breaths through her nose.
“Come sit with me, Char,” Neve demanded. “I need you.”
Charmaine’s grip loosened, and she pushed up and away me from me as if touching me burned her. Then she spun around and shoved the other lionesses out of her way. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I lay unable to move until Everson touched my leg. Suddenly the boat rocked wildly.
“No!” Deepnita sprang to her feet.
I sat up to see Charmaine balanced on the inflated edge of the boat. One curl of her clawed toes and — pop! The rubber began to hiss. She glanced back, eyes no longer wild, her expression stricken.
“Sister, no!” Mahari cried as Deepnita lunged for Charmaine, but with one hard bounce, the lioness dove into the churning water. And then the boat flipped and sent us tumbling in after her.
By the time I kicked my way to the surface and burst into the air, spitting out water through chattering teeth, the icy current had bulldozed me a long way downriver. I struggled to stay upright as the overturned boat careened past me. Gone in a blink. Dark figures thrashed against the current as they swept by. Then someone crashed into my back and stuck there, clinging to my backpack, legs entwining with mine, dragging me under. I kicked, trying to stay afloat, only to bury my boot in muck. The riverbed was right there! All I had to do was straighten my legs.
I dug my feet into the sediment and stood. The river was only shoulder-high. I shrugged off one strap, and Neve flipped around to my front, still clinging to my backpack, though her legs had whipped free. She flutter-kicked like a kid learning to swim. I coughed up enough water to gurgle, “Stand up,” into her face. With the current pounding on my back, I’d topple if she didn’t let go. Eyes squeezed shut, she shook her head and mewled. I grabbed two fistfuls of her jacket and yanked as much of her as I could below the surface. Her kicks nearly unbalanced me, but she must have also touched ground, because her eyes popped open. Neve blinked and then straightened. The water only came up to her chest.
We managed to drag ourselves over to the steep bank and claw our way out of the water — all while shivering uncontrollably. Gasping, I rocked onto my side and curled around my sodden backpack.
“Can you see the others?” I sounded drunk, mumbling and slurring.
Neve sat up with a groan and squinted into the darkness. “No.”
My heart sped up again, and I got to my feet, the backpack clutched to my chest.
“But I can hear them.” She pointed downriver. “There.”
As I staggered forward, the mud sucked at my boots, making me work for every step. The moon was out again by the time we stumbled upon the glow that was Everson. Flashlight in hand, he hunkered beside someone on the riverbank. “Is it Charmaine?” I asked.
“She’s gone.” Deepnita’s rasp came from the shadows at the base of a bluff where slabs of rock formed plateaus. Everson directed the flashlight to where she sat, her head down, her knees akimbo.
“She didn’t even try to swim. And wouldn’t let me help. I caught her arm.” Deepnita looked up, her amber eyes twin embers in the dark. She held up a bloody fist. “She made me let go.”
Neve dropped onto the rock and wrapped her arms around Deepnita, as if she could absorb the other lioness’s despair. Mahari lay on a rocky tier above them, still as a corpse, staring at the night sky. She said nothing.
My throat clenched around the words of sympathy that I wanted to pour out like a balm, like that would lessen their pain even a little. I forced myself to breathe and said, “I’m so sorry.”
If they heard me, they were beyond responding. Neve comforted Deepnita without words, hugging her so fiercely, her claws tore at Deepnita’s shirt. The light shifted away, and the shadows reclaimed them.
“Lane,” Everson said, urging me to come to him.
He crouched at the water’s edge, where a boy lay half in the water. He was a young teen, with skin so pale and rubbery-looking, he could’ve been a film prop. But he wasn’t. Not with the way Everson was inching the flashlight beam over every limb. I wrung out my wet hair as I made my way over to him, my steps shaky. By the time I dropped my sodden backpack in the mud, I was shivering uncontrollably. So was Everson.
“We’re lucky,” he said. “The river isn’t as cold in the shallows.”
I didn’t feel lucky as I sank to my knees beside him, only to see the unconscious boy had been even less lucky. His torn sleeve revealed a semicircle of gouged skin.
“Something bit him,” I croaked.
“Yeah,” Everson agreed. “And we’re going to assume that something was a feral until this kid gets tested for Ferae.”
“It doesn’t look like a human’s bite,” I pointed out. “Or even a tiger’s.”
“You’re an expert?” Everson asked dryly.
“No …” I pointed to the puncture wounds. “But look, the tooth marks are slits, like what a knife tip would make. A tiger’s fangs would punch holes in his skin.”
“Can we worry about this later?” Everson grabbed hold of the boy’s boot. “We have to get him out of the water.”
The river stunk like rusty metal and algae, but now the scent held a trace of blood as well. I took hold of the kid’s other boot and, between us, we pulled him onto the grass at the foot of the bluff. I carefully laid the back of my hand on the unbroken skin of the boy’s brow. He was cool to the touch. I glanced at Everson. “No fever.”
“Doesn’t mean anything. He probably has hypothermia.”
I remembered the symptoms of hypothermia — one of the few facts that stuck with me from the survival skills classes my dad made me take. Why hadn’t I paid attention in those classes? But no, I’d sat there like a lump, resentful over what I’d considered a waste of my time. Still, I remembered that the “umbles” were signs of early hypothermia: stumbles, mumbles, fumbles, and grumbles.
The symptom for advanced hypothermia was even easier to spot: death.
I met eyes with Everson. I didn’t want to give Rafe’s dose to anyone but Rafe, but if it could save this boy, then I’d have a hard decision to make. “Should we give him …” I asked, silently mouthing: “the cure.”
“Let’s see if he lives,” Everson muttered. “Who knows how long he was in the water.”
“We need to get him warm and dry if he’s going to have a chance.”
“Yeah, but first I need to check his wounds. See how bad they are before we move him.”
I nodded, but neither of us moved. Blood drenched what was left of the boy’s long-sleeved shirt. Without gloves and face masks, how could we do anything for him?
“Hey,” Everson called to the lionesses. “You can touch him. You can’t get infected twice.”
When they didn’t reply, he aimed his flashlight at the rocky tiers. They were gone! Everson swept the light along the endless cliff face that edged the narrow beach. Not a trace of them anywhere.
“Maybe they’re looking for Charmaine,” I suggested. Or her body.
“Maybe,” he said grimly.
Or maybe they just needed time alone. They’d just lost one of their own. If they didn’t come back for days, I wouldn’t be surprised, though the thought terrified me.
“You don’t have any gloves in your pack by any chance?” he asked.
Dragging the backpack to me, I rummaged through it and pulled out a ziplock bag that contained a few first aid supplies. “You can use the bag,” I suggested.
He nodded. “And the bandage. Don’t get it dirty.”
The boy’s eyes blinked open — dull brown and seemingly human. And then he saw us, and his expression turned to one of alarm, though he didn’t move. Or maybe he couldn’t.
“You’re safe,” Everson told him. “You were in the river; that’s why you’re cold. Can you feel your fingers?”