Darr

by Theresa Beachman

  Recoiling like a cobra, the millipede reared high above the hatch. Its jaws snapped as its head whiplashed and its mouth spat globular mucus. Wet suction echoed within the confines of the metal tunnel as sticky strands snagged Violet’s ankle in a gluey lasso and snatched her off her feet.

  She pitched backward with a grunt, clutching her handgun close to her chest, but the millipede was unstoppable, reeling her back to the plant room. Violet fired, but its lurching movement threw her aim wide, and she only dented metal sheeting on the wall.

  Darr grabbed the thick strand, but it was like trying to tear greasy elastic. It stretched and slipped in his hands in glutinous blobs that refused to separate. The millipede screamed, and the strand contracted into a taut white rope, instantly lifting Violet upside down by her ankle and smashing her against the walls of the conduit.

  Violet roared, her voice a mash of fear and anger as she curled upward, her fingers tearing at her captured foot. Darr scooted underneath her back, supporting her. She fumbled with the laces of her boot, turning the air blue before her foot finally shot free.

  The lasso recoiled like a whip out of the conduit, still gripping her boot.

  Violet landed on Darr in a tangle of limbs. His head pulsed with millipede fury, and the world wavered and shimmered.

  “Fuck.” Violet rolled off him. “I liked those boots.” Her hand found his. “Move, damn you.”

  Darr rolled and found his feet, then staggered upward and ran with her into the darkness.

  29

  Violet tracked Darr in wary silence, her bare foot sinking into the sodden grass. Freezing water squelched between her toes as she covered the rear in an awkward sideways gait. At least the sun was up. The sky had cleared to a pristine blue in the aftermath of the storm, at odds with how her day was going so far.

  “I thought I was having a bad day before the van blew up,” she whispered at his back.

  He turned, skimming over her and beyond in anxious surveillance.

  “Darr, you okay?”

  He nodded, but his eyes were pained.

  They reached the bike without incident, removing the sheet covering it in wordless tandem. Darr wrapped the sheet around Violet’s bare foot before they climbed on the bike and he gunned the engine.

  Violet’s stomach churned, her hands clenched around Darr’s waist as he accelerated down the long hospital driveway, cutting a path through the thick underlay of rotting vegetation.

  The near success of the millipede’s attack unnerved her. How had it found them in the hospital? And more to the point, what about Darr’s reaction? In the tunnel, close to the millipede, he’d been disorientated. Again. Just like when they’d escaped from the Box and come in close contact with the Scutter.

  Memories of the night before bloomed hot in her mind. She should have known it was all too good to be true. Nothing was ever straightforward anymore.

  She buried her face between the angle of his shoulder blades, seeking refuge from the frigid atmosphere and her own thoughts.

  She would speak to him later. When they were safe.

  Darr finally steered the bike up to the library entrance mid-morning. Violet was frozen. Her arms were numb, and her teeth chattered uncontrollably.

  He turned off the ignition, and for a long second, they sat motionless together in stunned silence.

  The library door hung from its hinges at a crooked angle, the wood splintered. What had looked proud and strong only the day before, now looked broken and abandoned. Violet swallowed angry bile. In her gut, she knew Mathew and his men had done this.

  Darr raised his crossbow and dismounted the bike. He spent several minutes scanning the surrounding buildings before deciding it was safe enough for Violet to get down. With a curt nod, he provided cover as she clambered off the bike, awkward and slow. “Easy,” he muttered.

  His arms were bloodless, his hands red raw from the biting cold. At least she’d been huddled behind him, the warmth of his body protecting her from the wind. Darr had nothing but the shirt on his back.

  Violet hobbled to the library steps, carefully navigating the sharp ridges left by tire tracks in the now-frozen slush.

  Darr grimaced at her foot. “You need warm clothes and boots.” He placed the bike keys in her palm and folded her stiff fingers over them. Then he embraced her, rubbing her arms. “I won’t be long.”

  Violet leaned into him, relaxing under his touch. His warm scent washed over her, and the muscles in her back and shoulders eased even as her teeth clacked. Being close to Darr made her feel safe.

  He frowned as he turned to leave. “What is it?”

  She studied his face closely. “We were lucky to get away this morning.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. But nothing more.

  A worm of unease squirmed in her belly at his tone. “Be careful.”

  He kissed her forehead and hoisted his bow snug to his back. “Get out of the weather. I know an outdoor store not far from here.” He pushed her toward the entrance.

  “Darr?”

  He turned, his face questioning.

  “Size five.”

  He grinned and gave her a mock salute before disappearing around the corner at a brisk trot.

  Violet shuffled up the stairs, her fingers numb and uncooperative as she gripped the banister. She ran through a list in her head of supplies they needed for the drive back to the Command Base.

  Survival came before talking.

  Devastation stalled her on the threshold of Darr’s office space. She’d been prepared for the worst, but it looked like a hurricane had ripped through. Furniture was upended and smashed, shelves were swiped bare, and torn paper and ripped books lay in disarray.

  The walls were gouged and blackened from the grenade blast. A small, prostrate form was crumpled in the corner. Darr’s cat. She picked up a towel from the floor and draped it across the scrawny little body. Anger flushed through her in a hot wave. This wasn’t survival. This was destruction for destruction’s sake. They had done this to hurt Darr. Nothing else.

  She picked her way across the wooden floor, attempting to avoid stepping on any dismembered books. Crossbow bolts littered the floor. She scooped them up and bunched them in her hand but dropped them again as soon as she spotted a pile of blankets.

  With uncooperative fingers, she shook out two and wrapped them around herself. Exhausted and aching, she sat down heavily on Darr’s mattress, tucking her feet under the blanket edge and waited for her shivers to stop. She rearranged the mess of books at her feet as her body warmed up. Ammunition and painkillers could wait until her body was functioning normally again.

  Through the doorway, on the far side of the office, the cupboard was ripped open. White, clinical-looking packages were scattered at the foot of the door. Violet straightened slowly, her knees locking in defiance as she walked over to read the labels.

  She clutched her arms across her body.

  Morphine.

  30

  Darr grabbed the first suitable boots and clothes he came across. He was uncomfortable being away from Violet. She was so independent, ready to fight at a moment’s notice, but even an experienced soldier was vulnerable in this harsh world. Especially a female soldier. He knew with sudden certainty he’d do everything in his power to make sure she was safe.

  When he got back to the library, she was huddled on his bed, blankets drawn around her shoulders, her complexion pale.

  “I got what you need.” He placed the clothes on the floor beside her. A blue down coat, fleece sweater, thick socks, and boots with bright yellow laces.

  “Thanks.” She picked up the boots. “Won’t have any trouble finding me in a snowstorm with these.” She ripped the socks out of the cardboard packaging. Darr dropped to his knees and began to unlace the knot holding the boots together.

  “I can do my own boots, thanks.” Her tone was sharp, and he shot her a questioning look. She stiffened.

  “What?” His mind raced as she pointed through the doorway t
o his cupboard door. It was open, the medication mostly gone.

  Darr sighed. He should have known everything would catch up with him in the end. “I never lied to you, Violet.”

  Her shoulders shuddered with suppressed emotion. “You weren’t straight either. Those drugs are seriously heavy-duty. I know you mentioned headaches, but this?”

  He nodded, rubbing his forehead as he searched for the right words. “You’re right. I should have said, but I didn’t want to frighten you.”

  Her voice dropped. “What did you think would frighten me?”

  He risked looking at her. Her eyebrows were furrowed with unanswered questions. But at least she was still here.

  What the hell. He had nothing to lose anymore. She would never be his. Not after this morning. And definitely not after he told her what he was.

  “You know I injured my head falling off the roof and about the headaches I get—” He paused, gathering his resolve. “Shortly after I fell, I was scavenging for supplies with Nick, one of our men from Crossness, and a Chittrix was drawn to us, to me. The connection I had with it, the pain, drew it like a beacon. When it got really close, I passed out. I woke up hours later confused and dehydrated—and Nick was dead. Torn to shreds.” He stopped then, blinking. “When it happened again a week later…that’s when I knew I had to do something to fuzz the connection, to hide myself from them mentally.”

  Violet’s lips parted in silent shock, hugging the blue jacket he had brought her around her shoulders. But she didn’t move.

  “By the time our two groups met up, I’d come to realize I was a liability. If I didn’t take the meds, any Chittrix in the vicinity would seek me out. I still blame myself for what happened at Crossness.”

  Violet’s eyes deepened to forest green. “That was no one’s fault.”

  He dismissed her with a shrug. “You don’t know that. I hung on a little longer, hoping it was an anomaly, but it wasn’t. After I left the Command Base…Jakub. You saw what the Chittrix did to him. Ripped him right open.”

  “Yes.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “That was it. I thought I could do it—fight with Garrick, you, the others, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk the Chittrix sensing me as we approached the nest. It was too dangerous.”

  “So you left.”

  “Yes. Isolated myself, upped the meds. They blur my thinking so the Chittrix can’t find me, as well as numbing the pain. And then you blew in with the snow, and everything went out the window. The meds. My decision to stay the hell away from people.”

  “And now?” she asked.

  “Now something’s different. At the Box, I was clear of the medication.” He remembered being sprawled like an animal on the damp filth of the cage floor. “When we were separated, they locked me up next to a Scutter. It wasn’t just pain anymore.”

  “What then?” Her tone was gentle.

  “I connected with its memories. Its species’ memories, I think. Its home planet being destroyed, its fear.” He looked away as Violet’s eyes widened. He had to finish this. Tell her.

  “But also, more recent memories. Flashes of its incarceration. I didn’t understand all of it, but I understood enough, like a language I’d half-forgotten.”

  She reached for his hand. “My God, Darr….”

  He took a deep breath. “That’s not the worst thing.”

  “Okay,” she said, her voice tense.

  He gripped her fingers. “The Scutter reacted to my thoughts. It understood what I was thinking.”

  “Darr—”

  “Let me finish. It was everywhere in my head. I panicked—if the Scutter can read my mind, no one I know is safe. And then two of Judge’s men arrived, and I reacted instinctively. I took hold of the connection, and I drove it back into the Scutter. I pushed…with my mind.”

  Darr let go of Violet’s hand. His throat was raw, his eyes burned. “I directed all my anger and fear back into it, and it went…insane. It broke through the metal bars of its cage.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “That’s how I escaped.”

  He touched her forehead gently, stroked a strand of hair. Just being near her calmed him. Made him want to do the right thing. Whatever the hell that was. “I’ve always been different. My father hated who I was and tried to change me into something I never could be.” Darr shook his head, his thinking clouding with painful memories. “And now, I really am different. I thought I could keep you safe from it, but this morning…that thing was there because of—"

  Violet looked dazed. “Darr, that wasn’t your fault. You don’t know that thing was there because of you.”

  “I do V. I do know, and I can’t keep you safe. Until I understand it better—and can control it—I’m dangerous.”

  The thought of hurting her, ripped at his heart. It wasn’t what he wanted to say. He wanted to tell her that he’d take care of her, but the words stuck in his throat. He’d never said those words to anyone before, and if he said them now, he couldn’t take them back. And really, could he say them without knowing if they were true?

  She deserved better. She was strong without him, a fighter, and a soldier. She didn’t need him the way he needed her. He saw that now. So the words stayed on his tongue, chastising him, because deep down, they were true.

  He stumbled on. “Last night, we had this fucking amazing moment, and I thought things could be different. But they can’t.” He lifted his chin, bolstering himself for what he needed to say to keep her safe. “Last night was a physical comfort for both of us. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  Her shoulders crumpled as she curled in on herself. Her eyes shimmered, and she blinked, wiping at her nose with the cuff of her sleeve. “You don’t mean that.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  Darr gritted his teeth, the back of his throat heavy and swollen. “I do.” He shuffled backward, attempting to put some space between them before he did something he’d regret. “This morning confirmed what I didn’t want to admit. The millipede found us because of me. I’m a freak, V.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “No. It’s not.” He stepped away from her, his face hardening. “You need to go back to your brother, your family at the Command Base. You’re safe there.” He hesitated. “They can protect you in ways I can’t.”

  She shook her head. “If you controlled the Scutter, that’s amazing. Not a risk. You’re smart. Resourceful. Take this, whatever the hell it is, and use it to your advantage.”

  Darr took a retreated again and held up his hands. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe what happened at the Box was a freak occurrence. I don’t know. I don’t fucking know anything anymore, other than I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  Violet stepped forward, but he shook his head to prevent her from coming closer. “I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t think I can.”

  “We can find a way to make it stop,” Violet insisted.

  Darr pressed his feet into the floor, steeling himself before he completely lost it. He turned from her as he spoke, unable to look her in the eye. “There is no ‘we’, Violet.”

  31

  Loaded up with guns, his crossbow, first-aid supplies, and spare batteries, Darr led the way out the library into the brisk morning air. Pale, lemony rays scattered low over the rooftops, reflecting from patches of snow and blinding him if he looked up the street without shading his eyes. The journey home would be dry and bright.

  He tried not to look at Violet. The powder-blue jacket he’d found her suited her, brought out the green in her eyes. He’d never seen her wear anything but black or gray before. This was what she would have looked like before the Chittrix. Off-duty, a pretty woman on a sunny day with nothing else on her mind but catching up with friends and spending time with her family.

  And that was where he was going to take her. To her friends and family. Away from the danger that he carried within him. And then he would leave, knowing she was safe.

  His heart clenched. He didn’t want to think t
oo deeply about his own motivations, but he knew that if anything happened to her, it would tear him apart. He didn’t want to feel like this about her. Somehow, it had snuck up and blindsided him.

  Violet finished knotting her scarf up around her chin and squinted at him in the sunshine. “Have you changed your mind?”

  He paused. Gripped the barrel of his crossbow. “No.”

  “You can stay with us at the base. As friends.” Her face was hopeful.

  He willed her not to test him. This was difficult enough, his resolution already wavering on a knife-edge. “I know. Thanks. But I’m not staying.”

  Violet scuffed the road with the toe of her boot, thinking. “What you have—I can help you learn how to use it. It could be a strength, not a weakness.”

  Darr’s tone was stern. “It’s not up for discussion, Violet. I’m taking you home, and that’s it. What happened with the Scutter, controlling it, was an anomaly. A one-off. And even if it wasn’t, I’m a Chittrix magnet.”

  Her face crumpled, and she turned her back on him.

  Fuck. He was such a shit for doing this to her. He swallowed and dug his hands into his pockets, anything to stop himself from reaching out and touching the light dancing in the highlights of her hair.

  Once she was safe with her brother, he would leave, although to where he had no idea. He took a final look at the library. This place had provided safety, but he hadn’t learned anything about living from all the books stored in there.

  Being with Violet. That’s what had changed things for him.

  Violet coughed and spread a map out on the bike seat. She traced a finger along the roads as if she didn’t damn well know the route home like the back of her hand.

  As he watched her, he felt an instinctive flicker at the back of his brain, and a shadow flitted across his vision, momentarily obscuring the clear winter morning. Warning needles pricked inside his eye sockets. He pressed his hands against his eyes to ease the sting then scanned the sky.