Undaunted

by Kat Falls

  Rafe covered his nose with a forearm and crouched. “And people say I have a dirty mouth,” he muttered. Using the stick, he rolled over a slime-covered chunk. “Hip socket,” he pronounced.

  My stomach heaved.

  He flipped over another lump. “Here we go — hoof.” One last poke and he rose with a wet clump of hide dangling from the tip of the stick. “This here is a pile of digested deer. Now he’s ready for breakfast.”

  Gagging, I whirled to face the pines.

  “You really have gone soft,” he mused. “You should’ve stayed in the West where you belong.”

  “I couldn’t stay there,” I said, my back still turned. “I promised I’d come back for you.”

  As I turned back toward him, Rafe’s knees hit the ground, and he fell forward, revealing Boone behind him, holding his shotgun like a club.

  “No!” I shouted. “He’s not feral!” I stuffed the cylinder back into my pocket. How had I forgotten that Boone was using me to draw out Rafe?

  “Maybe not this minute,” Boone said, “but you wanna vouch for him tonight? Tomorrow?” He slammed the toe of his boot into Rafe’s ribs.

  Rafe didn’t react — no groan, no movement. “Stop it!” I ran to him. “He isn’t the one killing people!”

  Boone caught my arm, keeping me from kneeling next to Rafe. “And how do you know that?”

  “There’s a feral out here — a man infected with Komodo dragon. He —”

  “A lizard?” Boone cut in, expression incredulous. “You think a lizard is tearing people apart?”

  “I saw him! I’m just lucky Rafe found me first or that” — I jabbed a finger at the pile of slimy bones — “could’ve been me.” I jerked my arm from Boone’s hold and knelt next to Rafe. He was so still. I couldn’t even tell if he was breathing.

  “Ever hear of a man-eating lizard?” Boone scoffed as he snatched Rafe’s rifle from the holster on his back. “No. But a man-eating tiger? That sounds about right.”

  “You’re not listening,” I hissed, then shot a quick look around the clearing and wished I had Rafe’s sense of smell. “I saw him. He’s huge and far gone — probably infected for a long time. The Komodo dragon DNA is really show —”

  “Nice try, girl.” Boone slung Rafe’s rifle over his shoulder. “But I think we would have noticed a dragon wandering around.”

  “Not a dragon, a Komodo dragon. He’s got teeth like a shark’s and claws like —”

  “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” Boone demanded as he crouched and ran his hands over Rafe, checking for other weapons. “You know this boy. Came here looking for him. You’ll say anything to save his life.” He collected two knives off Rafe, stood, and flung them into the woods, one after the other.

  “You’re wrong. I didn’t come here to save Rafe.” I rose to look Boone in the eye so he’d know I was dead serious. “I came to kill him.”

  Boone stiffened with surprise.

  Guess I wasn’t quite the old-fashioned girl he’d thought I was. “I promised Rafe I would put him down when he went feral. But it’s not time yet. He’s not feral. Not even a little.”

  Boone snorted and pulled a ball of twine from his pocket. “You’re wrong, honey. It might be coming on him in spells, but he’s already biting. I should know.” When he reached for Rafe’s wrist, Rafe suddenly shoved himself up from the ground, knocking Boone back with his head.

  Even as Boone stumbled backward, he whipped his rifle around and pointed it at Rafe. “Stay right there.”

  “Geez, you stink.” Swaying on his knees, Rafe rubbed the back of his head. “You might want to wipe off all that sweat. He’ll smell it from a mile away.”

  Boone lifted his gun to aim at Rafe’s head. “Keep talking and I’ll turn that smart mouth of yours into a gaping hole.”

  “Boone, listen,” I pleaded. “I saw it. Right here. I saw it cough up those bones. That’s what killed Aaron.”

  “Bit Aaron,” Rafe corrected, sitting back on his heels like he didn’t have a care in the world. “The kid is still alive.”

  I shook my head and said softly, “They found Aaron’s body this morning.”

  Rafe studied me and then smirked at Boone. “That what you told Carmen? What you told all of them? Did you make a big show of burning his body? Singing him off?”

  I looked back and forth between the two of them.

  Rafe never took his eyes from Boone. “All these years, and they still believe your lies. Gotta say, that’s some serious charisma you’re working.”

  Boone seemed unfazed by his accusations. “You’re losing your mind, son. Seeing things that aren’t there. Maybe your lizard-man exists, maybe not. But I know firsthand you’re a threat to humans.”

  “It was just a love bite,” Rafe said with mock reproach.

  Boone’s expression turned murderous. “It didn’t take.”

  “Next time, it will,” Rafe promised softly.

  “Stop it,” I snapped at Rafe. “Stop making things worse.” I turned on Boone. “Is Aaron still alive?”

  “Not that it’s your business,” he said levelly. “But I’ve led that compound for near on twenty years. Those are my people. And you can be sure I wouldn’t put Carmen or any of them through that kind of pain ’less her son was truly dead.”

  “Unless …” I said, halting to let my mouth catch up with my thoughts. “Unless you thought that by lying to her you were keeping her safe.” It was the reason people always gave for lying. Good people like my dad and destructive people like Chairman Prejean, who, when she’d told the public that no one had survived the outbreak, did it “for our own good.” “Because she’d leave the compound if she knew Aaron was out here. Infected. Alone.”

  “My people are free to leave Heartland anytime they want. No one’s making them stay.” Boone’s eyes narrowed. “If you know what’s good for you, girl, you’ll stop listening to this infected piece of trash. I’ve known him his whole life, and he’s always been a liar and a thief.”

  Rafe scrambled to his feet. “He’s coming.”

  “Shut up,” Boone snarled.

  The trees rustled off to one side. Suddenly Rafe was next to me. “Climb a pine,” he urged, pushing me toward the trees. “It’ll cover your scent.”

  I nodded, stumbling toward the nearest tree.

  Boone swung his gun toward me. “Don’t you move.”

  Just then the forest fell silent — too silent. Boone glared at us.

  “You’re sweating, old man.” Rafe stepped between him and me, gesturing behind his back for me to head for the pines to our left. “That’ll draw him as quick as blood. Smells like fried chicken to him.”

  “I said shut up!” Boone snarled.

  “Lane, go!” Rafe ordered. “Now!”

  I pivoted, only to have my guts turn to slush. Half-hidden by the towering pines stood the creature I’d tried but failed to accurately describe to Boone. It — he — was so much more terrifying than I had words for, with his bloodshot eyes and the long ribbons of dead skin hanging off his cheeks.

  I edged back several steps, brushing Rafe’s hand on the way, barely a warning, and yet he understood and glanced over his shoulder.

  In a blur of motion, Boone jammed the gun’s muzzle into Rafe’s gut, forcing him closer to the feral and back onto his knees. “There you go,” Boone rasped to the feral as he backed away from Rafe. “Breakfast is served. Right here. Help yourself.”

  When Rafe started to rise, I dropped my gaze from the horror behind him long enough to catch his eyes and gave the barest shake of my head. Obeying me, he went completely still as death hovered within three powerful leaps. Watching. Waiting. Salivating …

  Seconds stretched into minutes as we held our bodies rigid — Rafe on his knees facing me, Boone somewhere behind me — waiting for the Komodo to attack, to roar, anything. My heart threatened to knock right through my rib cage. The Komodo-man stared at us, taking us all in with burning eyes above a distended jaw. And then his
lips parted and bloody drool spilled out in ropes, accompanied by a hissing sound. It was all I could do to keep from falling into a sobbing, begging heap.

  “I — I know you …” Boone said in a strangled voice.

  The Komodo-man’s hissing grew louder. It was a word. A name!

  “Booone …”

  Leaves crunched behind me as Boone reacted. I could feel him slipping back into the woods.

  “Booone …” the feral man rasped again. His yellow tongue flicked out, and then he parted his peeling lips and slurped in air like I’d guzzle soup. Tasting us! Tasting our fear on the wind. I could’ve screamed over that alone.

  Sticks snapped in the forest behind me as Boone picked up speed.

  Rafe ducked and wrapped his arms around the back of his neck just as the horrifying Komodo-man lunged. He hurtled past Rafe and sprang for me. I whirled, crouched, arms over my head, and waited for the two-ton impact of lizard crashing into me, its bloody teeth clamping onto my neck. But the impact never came. Instead, the stench of rotting corpses whooshed past me as the lizard-dude pounded after Boone with the force of a tsunami. I squeezed my eyes tight, not wanting to see what came next.

  Hard hands hauled me to my feet. And, without a word, Rafe entwined his fingers with mine and dragged me into a sprint. We raced so fast we should have broken the sound barrier, and yet, the scream caught up with us. It slammed into my back like a two-handed shove propelling me forward.

  It was Boone. Dying awfully. Dying as no one should die.

  Not even him.

  Rafe waved me up yet another rocky slope to a narrow crack in the cliff face.

  “They knew each other,” I gasped, unable to catch my breath. “The Komodo said Boone.”

  “Most of the ferals around here came from Heartland,” Rafe said while nudging me toward the crack. “Go! It’s a cave. He can’t follow us in.”

  Yeah, because the crack in the cliff was literally a crack, but I didn’t need any further prodding. I wedged myself through the narrow opening without looking first. Please be empty. Please! Thankfully the crack opened up within a few feet of the entrance. Light shafted in from a gap above us. It wasn’t a cave at all but a wide fissure in the rock.

  “Keep going,” Rafe directed. “We’ll climb out after we’ve put some distance between us and him.”

  The ground was rocky and uneven, but I kept my gaze pinned to the sky above. I didn’t care if I tripped. However, I’d care very much if lizard-dude jumped down twenty feet and turned me into a semi-digested lump of teeth and bone.

  Rafe must have guessed that I was down to the dregs of my composure. “Hold up,” he said as we reached the darkest, narrowest part of the fissure. A boulder wedged into the gap above neatly hid us from a view.

  “Take a minute.” He put a hand to my shoulder, encouraging me to sit. “Forget what you saw back there,” he ordered.

  “Sure. On it,” I said, heaping on the snark. Without turning to face him, I sat down hard and dragged in a shuddering breath. But then jagged teeth, coated in blood and gristle, crowded out every other thought in my head, and sweat slicked my skin. I probably reeked, thus turning myself into a feral’s dinner bell.

  “You’re not okay, are you?”

  Rafe’s voice tickled my ear as he sank to his haunches behind me. He lifted my hair and did something with it. Wrapped it around his fist, maybe. I couldn’t tell, yet the slight tugging had a calming effect on me.

  “I’ve got you, Lane,” he said, his voice velvet soft. “I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

  His words reminded me of what I said to the orphans every night. And like them, I relaxed under the soothing promise of safety. I nodded and rubbed my wrists, then shook the ice out of my fingers.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  “My hands. They feel dead sometimes.”

  He went still. “Dead?”

  “Numb,” I explained.

  “Like when whiskers had your wrists duct-taped.”

  I glanced back, stunned. That was exactly right. The numbness, the prickling … That was the sensation I’d felt upon waking in Chorda’s killing house — wrists bound, hands bloodless, looking into the face of a corpse. And what I’d felt ever since when something or someone triggered my memories of the tiger-king.

  And the explosive headaches?

  Those I had put down to eyestrain from editing late into the night. But now, thanks to Rafe, I knew — knew deep in my gut — the when of editing wasn’t the cause. It was the what. Chorda’s footage — that’s what brought on those sudden, blinding headaches. Seeing his face again, hearing his roars and growled promises of vivisection, took my body back to the moment he’d pistoned his fist into my forehead to knock me out before carrying me off. How had I missed such an obvious cause-effect until now?

  I wiggled around to face Rafe. Somehow the signs of infection only made him more beautiful — the black markings around his eyes made the blue more striking, and the faint dark stripes on his skin only emphasized the symmetry of his face. Even his multiple scars didn’t detract from his looks — any more than a vein in the marble detracted from a statue’s ability to take your breath away. I ran my fingers over the raised lines on his forearm that Chorda’s claws had made — puckered and crisscrossing. As open gashes, these wounds had let the virus into his body. If I’d just lifted his forearm off the ground before Chorda’s blood seeped across the floor, he might not have gotten infected …

  It would be okay. The cure would clear the virus from his system. I covered the scars with my palm.

  Rafe stiffened under my touch, but when he spoke, his tone was light. “Pretty ugly, huh?”

  “You don’t want smooth skin,” I said, trying to match his tone. “Everyone would think you’re a silky. Inexperienced. Soft … You’d lose your tough-guy cred.” I looked into his black-rimmed eyes. “I have to tell you something.”

  He rotated his hand and took hold of my forearm. His fingers were rough on my skin, calloused and strong. When he gathered up my other hand as well and massaged my wrists and fingers, words left me. I closed my eyes and felt my breathing slow, along with my pounding heart.

  “Better?” His tone was warm — good-natured.

  Suddenly self-conscious, I opened my eyes and nodded, only to realize that the prickling sensation really was gone.

  When he dropped his hands and stood, I resisted the urge to pull him back down. I wanted to tell him how good it was to see him, to know that he was alive, not feral. And I really wanted to ask him if he meant what he’d said right before he jumped off the carousel and disappeared into the night. I’d replayed that moment endlessly — on my dial and in my head. I’d picked apart the double negative, trying to shake out the truth: “Remember when I said I lied to Omar and the queen? That was the lie.” Had he really loved me since he was ten? Before we’d even met, he’d said. Through my dad’s stories.

  The boy before me now did not seem like the big declaration type. In fact, he seemed to have taken our reunion in stride and moved on to business as usual. He patted down the sheaths on his belt, but Boone had taken his knives. He lifted one leg of his cargo pants and then the other and replaced the missing knives with those he had strapped to his calves.

  “I have to tell you something,” I said again. I rose and took the tube of antigen from my pocket, along with the collection cylinder. “Dr. Solis developed a cure for Ferae.” I paused, waiting for his reaction, but he just watched me with those disconcerting eyes of his. I held out the yellow tube. “I brought you a dose.”

  He didn’t take it, but he did step closer.

  “You have to squeeze it out under your upper lip,” I explained, hand still outstretched, offering him the cure. “Everson wants me to tell you that it seems to work so far, but they don’t know the long-term effects yet. They’ve been testing it on — on manimals —” I dropped my gaze to the tube of antigen, suddenly ashamed to even offer it to him, knowing how it had been developed. But I was als
o desperate for him to take it. He had to stop the virus before it took him away from me forever.

  “The stiff wants me to have it, huh?” he said. “Did you bring him with you?” He looked around the small space as if Everson might appear. “I’m surprised his mother let him out of her sight, after what happened last time.”

  “He came with me against orders.”

  Rafe chuckled then. The sound was low, stroking over my already inflamed nerves. “Good for him. But he should have left you back at base.” He nodded at the metal cylinder in my other hand. “What’s that one?”

  “Before you take the cure, I need to get a blood sample from you. Everson got all those samples from Chorda’s castle, but not tiger. Now your blood is the last one they need to create the vac —”

  It was as if the cylinder magically migrated from my hand to his — that’s how fast he grabbed it from me. And then he squeezed it until I heard the crunch of the glass vial breaking inside.

  I flinched, and then snatched back my open palm and locked the antigen in my fist. “Why?” I demanded.

  Rafe tossed the crushed cylinder onto the rocky ground. I had come all this way to help him and this was his response? I wanted to smack his beautiful face, but he turned away from me and pressed his hands against the stratified rock, as if he could move the entire rock formation through sheer will and tiger-amped muscles in his back and arms.

  “Don’t you get it, silky?” he asked, his voice almost a growl. “The sooner the patrol has a vaccine protecting the guards from infection, the sooner they’ll declare war on the zone.”

  The anger drained out of me. The worst part of what he said was … I believed him. Chairman Prejean wanted to erase her mistake from the face of the earth. If she could send guards into the zone to kill every single manimal, she would.

  “But a vaccine will protect everyone from infection,” I said half-heartedly. “If the people in the West are vaccinated, they won’t be afraid of the manimals. They won’t need a quarantine wall at all.”

  “You really think that’s how it will play out?”

  No. Though I wished I could believe it. I’d come to help Dr. Solis and Everson save the world by collecting Rafe’s blood, and I’d failed miserably. But Everson and I had always had different priorities, mine less noble than his.