by Kat Falls
The boy parted cracked lips, trying to say something, but his words came out as a wheeze.
I put out a comforting hand but snatched it back at Everson’s hiss of warning. “What’s your name?” I asked softly.
He licked his lips and tried again. “Aaron.” It was little more than a croak.
“We’ll get you back to your compound soon,” I promised him.
He shook his head. “I didn’t know …” Tears welled up in his eyes, and he turned away from me. “Now I’m the ghost.”
“No,” I soothed. “You’re not a ghost. You’re going to be fine.” I glanced at Everson for confirmation, but his expression promised nothing.
“Do you know what bit you?” he asked.
When the boy didn’t reply, I leaned over him to see that his eyes were closed and his features had gone slack. “He’s out.”
On a nod, Everson dug through my pack for my water bottle; then he emptied the ziplock bag, taking only the Bactine and the rolled bandage. After sliding his hand into the empty bag, he dropped to a knee beside Aaron. He poured the water over the bleeding teeth marks and then took hold of Aaron’s wrist with his bag-protected hand, before torturing him with the Bactine spray. Aaron’s eyes popped open at the sting. Everson held on tightly as the kid flailed.
“Almost done,” Everson assured him.
Aaron shivered silently, uncontrollably, and then closed his eyes as Everson tore off a piece of the rolled bandage and wrapped up his arm. When he was done, Everson peeled aside Aaron’s torn shirt. Crisscrossed scratches marred his chest, but thankfully, they didn’t look deep. “This probably happened yesterday. The blood is caked and dry. While the bite” — Everson pointed to where Aaron’s bandaged arm lay across his stomach — “is still bleeding. Maybe he was attacked twice.”
“Or maybe …” said a voice from behind us. “The bite is infected.” Mahari stood, flanked by the two remaining lionesses. All were pale and dry-eyed. “Tigers do have dirty mouths.”
“No,” I sputtered. “It wasn’t Rafe. Not with all those scratches.”
“What? Tigers don’t scratch?”
“He’s feral,” Deepnita said, though at least she sounded sympathetic. “He’s thinking like an animal, so he attacks like one.”
“But those are claw marks,” I said, pointing out the obvious. “He couldn’t have grown claws that fast!”
Mahari held up a hand, claws extended. “My fingernails fell out within weeks, along with half my teeth. Don’t tell me how this works, human. I lived it.”
I shut my mouth, not daring to offer sympathy. She liked the final result of her mutation, but I couldn’t imagine the horror of living through it. Of having your muscles grow and your bones shift. Losing hair or else having it sprout over every inch of skin, inhuman in color and texture. Or growing horns or scales. But none of that compared to the terror of knowing the virus was invading your brain, stealing your humanity, the part that made you you — your soul.
“There are a lot of ferals in these woods,” Deepnita said, essentially throwing me a bone. “Might not have been Rafe.”
“Wraith,” Neve corrected. “That’s what the hunters call him.”
There was no way to know until Aaron was awake. Then, hopefully, he could tell us who or what had attacked him.
“That doesn’t matter right now,” Everson cut in. “If this kid’s going to have a chance, we need to get him out of the elements.”
On my last venture into the zone, we’d had our pick of decrepit buildings to bunk down in — office buildings, malls, entire cities. Places that had bustled with people twenty years earlier. Those buildings were husks, covered in vegetation, their windows long since blown away. Death waited inside many of them, and it was impossible to tell which from the outside. Ferals didn’t decorate.
“Where can we find an abandoned house?” I asked the lionesses.
Mahari smirked. “You don’t know where you are, do you?”
“On the Mississippi,” I replied. “Somewhere south of Moline.”
“Way south.”
Was that supposed to mean something to me? Everson closed his eyes and tipped back his head. Guess it meant something to him. “There are no houses,” he said with a groan. “We’re in Pere Marquette State Park.”
My stomach dropped. “So … there are no buildings at all? Nothing? Just woods?”
Neve tilted her head in thought. “There are caves.”
No. No way was I getting trapped in a cave with no back door. “Where’d he come from?” I asked, pointing at the boy.
The lionesses exchanged wary looks. “Heartland, probably,” Deepnita said.
“The compound Rafe stays near?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Fine,” Everson said. “We’ll take the kid there.”
“No,” Mahari hissed. “We steer clear of that place. They’re hunters.”
“They won’t let him in anyway.” Deepnita padded closer, her eyes on the boy. “Not if he’s infected.”
“If he’s one of theirs, maybe they’ll see him through the fever,” Everson said.
Mahari pulled off her soaked patrol shirt. “They’ll shoot before you even get to the gate,” she said as she wrung out the river water.
“They always shoot,” Neve said, joining our group. “Even the young ones.” She nudged the boy with the tip of her muddy sneaker.
“If we don’t help him, he’ll die,” I snapped.
Standing there in her clinging tank, streaked with mud, Mahari looked semi-feral. “One less human in the zone means one less hunter trying to kill us.”
“You don’t know that he’s a hunter,” I said. Though, going by the boy’s woodsy camo shirt, she was probably right.
“All humans are manimal killers,” Mahari snapped, “with or without guns. Here, in the zone, they force the infected from their compounds, leaving us to starve in the wilds or get eaten. They don’t care what happens to us.”
“Not in Moline.”
“Maybe not, but everywhere else.” She jabbed an accusing finger at the boy. “We’re not human to them.”
I rounded on her. “But you know you’re human, so act like one.”
“Oh, no …” she said softly. “That much they have right. We’re not human. We’re so much more. And it scares them to the marrow.” She directed her gaze at Everson.
“Guess again, Princess,” he said, sounding completely unfazed.
“Queen,” she hissed, and then shifted her attention back to me. “Humans put up the walls, the fences, the razor wire … They hunt us. Lock us up and inject their drugs into us —”
“Cure you.” Everson crossed his arms over his chest.
She ignored him. “I don’t help an enemy get back on his feet when he’ll use that foot to crush my neck the first chance he gets.”
She was hurting over Charmaine — beyond logic and without empathy to spare — but still I had to say it: “Not every human is your enemy.”
She curled her black lips, revealing sharp fangs. “You want something from us, Lane, and we want something from you. That doesn’t make us friends.” It shouldn’t have stung, but it did. “So don’t ask us to help one of yours.”
“He’s infected,” Everson said, his temper starting to fray. “Doesn’t that make him one of yours?”
“Not yet,” she said coldly. “He has to live through the fever.”
“Fine.” Everson snatched her wet shirt out of her hand. “Just tell me where the compound is, I’ll take him myself.”
“They shoot from the trees,” Neve whispered. “And the trees are everywhere.”
“Snipers,” Deepnita explained. “Mahari’s right. Go at night and they’ll shoot before you get a word out. If you’re going to have a chance, you’ll have to go during the day so they can see you’re totally human.”
“Okay.” He glanced back at the boy on the ground. “Get us as close as you can to the compound, and let’s hope he lives through the night.�
�� Everson wrapped one hand in Mahari’s shirt and yanked down his sleeve to cover the other. “I’ll have to carry him without —”
Mahari cut him off with a scoff and tipped her head to Deepnita. The largest lioness sighed and scooped up the boy like he weighed nothing.
As she bounded up the rocky tiers toward the top of the bluff, I shouted, “Careful! You’ll hurt him!”
“He’s already hurt,” she replied without looking back.
Mahari and Neve sprang after her, leaping from one rock slab to the next without a sound. Everson and I followed at a more cautious pace. Had it been daytime, the view from the top would’ve been panoramic. But even under the half-moon, we saw that we’d clearly left the flat plains of the Midwest far behind. A wide gorge sliced between the rocky, tree-covered cliffs. Everson ended my gawking with a nudge, and we followed the lionesses through the woods. None of us wanted to attract attention — human or feral — which also meant no flashlights, though Everson did crack two more glow sticks. Without them, I would’ve ended up at the bottom of a ravine. Every ten minutes or so, the lionesses stopped to scan the terrain. Warily. They weren’t checking our route, I realized with a shiver. They were checking for ferals.
The area must have been hit hard in the winter. There were branches down everywhere and even whole trees. We crossed only one road. More accurately, what had once been a road. We weaved through the ancient gridlock of rusted cars, and weirdly, I felt a rush of relief once we were surrounded by trees again. The woods felt natural, even if the going was tough. Walking through the frozen-in-time traffic felt like cutting across a graveyard.
The lionesses paused at the top of the next bluff while I leapt from one boulder to the next slowly, planning and executing each jump. Once Everson and I caught up to them, we looked around. “What is it?” I asked, seeing nothing but a dark ravine before us.
“This is a bad place,” Neve whispered.
Deepnita shifted Aaron onto her other shoulder. “Something down there is dead.” She inhaled deeply. “Lots of somethings.”
“I don’t smell anything,” Everson said.
“Most have been dead a long time,” Deepnita said, stepping back from the edge. “They smell like dried-up meat. But there are a few that are —”
“Rotten meat.” Neve wrinkled her nose.
“Recent kills,” Deepnita finished.
I worked to suppress my panic. One misstep and I’d be down there too. “Were they human?” I asked through my sleeve, which I’d pressed to my nose and mouth to keep the decomposing body germs out of my lungs.
“Who knows? Dead prey is dead prey,” Mahari said, her tone fierce; however, her darting gaze gave her away. She was spooked. “We’ll find another way to cross.” She took off at a brisk pace with Deepnita smack on her heels.
“That’ll take too long,” Everson called after them.
“Shhh.” Neve pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t wake it up.”
“Wake what up?” I asked in a whisper.
“The hungry thing that lives down there.”
“You don’t know what it is?”
“No, and I don’t want to,” she said, and hurried after the others.
Everson and I exchanged a look and then followed as fast as we could. If it scared the pride, one glance at it would probably shut down my higher brain functions.
An hour and a dozen steep climbs later, the lionesses finally announced that we were as close to the compound as we dared get.
“See that drop-off?” Mahari pointed toward a distant corridor between two cliffs that seemed to end at the stars. “The compound is in the valley below. The humans hide behind their fence at night, so they shouldn’t stumble on us up here.”
For a second, I felt better about being within shouting distance of a human compound, but then I remembered that these humans liked to hide in trees and shoot people.
We settled under a low rock ledge with the cliff at our backs. In many ways, this spot was better than an abandoned house. There was no creepy element. No tattered curtains, cobwebs, mildewed walls, or smell of dust. It was almost like camping, but without a tent or sleeping bag or change of clothes. Instead, we were still wet, cold, and muddy. I was, anyway. The lionesses just looked muddy.
Deepnita gently rolled the boy onto the ground, where he writhed and thrashed, muttering. “He’s hot,” she informed us. “Really hot.”
Aaron gasped as the lionesses surrounded him, his expression one of reeling terror and incomprehension. When he struggled to rise, I crouched beside him. “They won’t hurt you.”
“Wraith …” he cried. “He’ll find me.”
My breath came thick in my throat. “What?”
“Told you,” Mahari said in a flat voice.
Aaron’s eyes rolled, showing the whites, as he tried to take us all in. “He’ll follow the blood.”
“Did Rafe — Wraith,” I amended, “did he bite you?” I had to know.
With a choked cry, Aaron curled on his side, arms crossed protectively over his head. When his shivers turned into shudders, Everson pulled a lighter from his sealed pocket and tossed it to Mahari. “Go make a fire.”
Her eyes narrowed, but before she could snarl a response, I asked, “Won’t that attract ferals?”
Deepnita tugged on Mahari’s arm, leading her away. “No, most of ’em are terrified of fire.”
As soon as they were out of sight, Everson began tearing what was left of the bandage into long strips. I dug into my bag until I found a packet of instant ice. I paused and exchanged a look with Everson. At his nod, I squashed the packet between my palms to start the chemical reaction. It wouldn’t do much, but it couldn’t hurt.
“Aaron,” I said softly. “No one’s going to hurt you. We’re going to keep you safe.” When he relaxed enough to look at me, I held up the cold packet. “This will feel good, but you need to lie on your back.” As soon as he did, I laid the packet on his forehead. His cheeks had taken on a flush, and his eyes were glassy.
“We’re going to take you to your compound in the morning,” I promised.
It was the wrong thing to say. Instantly, Aaron rolled his head hard enough to send the cold pack flying. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “No. Boone said … he said —” In his agitation, Aaron tried to sit up, but Everson dropped to a knee and pressed him back with a hand on his shoulder, one of the few patches free of blood.
Tears welled in Aaron’s eyes. “I didn’t know,” he told me in a tone that sounded like he was asking for forgiveness. “I didn’t, I swear. I didn’t know.”
“You need to take it easy for a while,” Everson said firmly. “You were cut up pretty bad, and I’ll be mad if you start bleeding again.” He looked up, his gray gaze trapping mine as he held up the strips of bandage. At my blank expression, Everson said, “Aaron, I’m sorry, but we have to do this now. It’ll be too hard later,” he went on. “I don’t want to have to chase you down in the dark.”
Everson’s eyes were on me as he spoke, willing me to understand what needed to be done with those bandages. And yeah, I got it. I didn’t like it, but I got it. I nodded to let him know I was on board with his plan. Looking relieved, he tossed me the makeshift bindings and quickly drew Aaron’s wrists together. “We’ll untie you in the morning … after the fever’s gone. Lane, now,” he growled at me.
Either Aaron had seen sick people get tied up before or he was too weak to fight. He lay there, dazed and docile, as we bound his wrists and ankles. It felt cruel, but it was necessary. On my first trip to the base, I’d seen a newly infected guard strapped to a bed in the infirmary. At the height of the fever, he’d been practically feral — a threat to himself and everyone around him. Feverish, howling, and crazed — the hallmarks of stage one of Ferae. Incubation.
I got to my feet, dismayed that there wasn’t more we could do for him.
Everson pointed to my pocket. The pocket that contained the small yellow tube of serum. He leaned into me and whispered
, “If he makes it through the night, we’ll give it to him tomorrow.”
I clapped a hand over the pocket. “This is for Rafe,” I whispered back.
Everson lifted his chin toward Aaron. “He said Rafe bit —”
Aaron erupted with a scream at Rafe’s name. I dropped into a crouch. “Shhh. He’s not here. You’re safe.”
However, Aaron continued to thrash and yell, which brought Mahari running. She clamped a bare foot over his mouth, cutting him off mid-shriek. “You just rang the dinner bell,” she snapped. “Ferals love a wounded animal. It’s easier to catch.”
I scanned the dark trees while wishing for better night vision.
“Fine.” Everson thrust the last strip of bandage at Mahari. “Gag him.”
The virus wouldn’t get into Aaron’s salivary glands until late in the disease, but I understood why Everson was asking Mahari to do it. She couldn’t get infected twice. She plucked the strip from Everson’s fingers and gagged Aaron with brutal efficiency.
Ten minutes later, the lionesses had a fire going, and Aaron was burning nearly as hot. We moved him farther underneath the ledge, where it was cooler, but he continued to thrash against his bindings. Everson touched my arm. “Go get warm.”
I didn’t argue. I was cold to the bone, even though the hike had taken my clothes from sopping to semi-soggy, and worse, I was in agony wondering whether Rafe was the unseen monster that was terrorizing the compound. Had he really become Wraith?
Neve threw an armful of branches onto the fire, which sent a surge of smoke billowing into my face as I settled as close to the flames as I dared get. When Neve bounded off to find more wood, I smothered a cough against my sleeve and crawled even closer, drawn by the blissful warmth. The sounds, pops, and crackles over a dull roar soothed me as well. Of course, something creepy or scary was bound to happen that would yank me back to the reality of our situation — that we were stranded in the Feral Zone. But the combo of fear and adrenaline was a jittery high, and it was wearing me out, body and mind. I couldn’t sustain it, not without falling apart. So I inhaled the smoke-heavy air and thawed out my freezing hands, only glancing up when Deepnita sank to her haunches a few feet away.