The Breeders Series: The Complete Box Set

by Katie French

  My little lantern swings wildly as we tear into the dark. The path forks right and I take it. A few feet up, the path splits in two. “Right,” I whisper. The moans are farther away. If we can just find a quiet spot to lay low…

  A few more minutes of terrified running and I spot a rock ledge about three feet from the floor. It's big enough for the five of us to squeeze into and off the beaten path so that those monsters can shuffle by.

  “Up here!” I whisper, gesturing them forward. Rayburn clambers up the rock wall, pebbles trickling down as he scoots onto the shelf and tucks himself into the back. Clay lifts Ethan into Rayburn's awaiting arms. I whirl around for Mama.

  She's crouched low, her arms around her pregnant stomach. Perspiration dots her forehead and slides down her neck. She lifts her face to mine and the expression of pain is unmistakable.

  “What is it?” I say.

  She looks up at me, her eyes afraid. “Whatever they did to slow the baby down… stopped working. It's awake and…” She looks down at her stomach. It gives a violent jerk. “It's moving.”

  “Oh God.” I reach for her. Moaning echoes down the hallway. They're coming.

  My heart is going to explode. I look up at Clay.

  “I'll get you up,” he says, taking Mama's arm, drawing her to him.

  She winces, but nods. Her belly jerks again, the baby rolling inside her.

  The moaning draws closer.

  Clay lifts Mama while Rayburn pulls her up. I run over and bounce on the balls of my feet, anxious to get up there.

  “Douse the light,” Clay whispers.

  My fingers stray to the switch, but I don't want to turn it. Pitch darkness with those monsters coming toward us? Oh God.

  I flick the switch and darkness falls. My hands find the ridge and I pull myself up, banging my knee on what must be a rock, scraping my palm. I reach down for Clay. My hand swings through empty air a few times and then it connects with his. He pulls himself up.

  Five of us crouch on the rocky shelf about the size of a walk-in pantry. The ceiling brushes my skull as I shift. Clay's body settles next to mine. A hand, Mama's I think, snakes around my arm. The darkness is total. And they're coming.

  In the dark, the moans are terrifying. A mob of great wails, inhuman and angry, echoes down the cavern toward us. How many were there? Twelve? Twenty? My brain supplies fifty, all missing skin, eyes, and fingers. Their fanged teeth snap up and down.

  They're closer now. Almost to us. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts. Mama's hand tightens around my arm. She needs help and I can’t do anything about it.

  They arrive in a wall of sound and smell, decaying flesh and toxic chemicals. Their loping shuffles echo through the cavern. As they begin moving past our ledge, I don't breathe. One passes by so close I can smell his breath as he exhales. I squeeze my eyes shut. Beside me, Clay is a stone. Mama squeezes my arm until it's numb.

  They are passing. Their awful noises recede down the tunnel like a gaggle of tortured animals. Why can't I think of them as people? They were once, weren't they? People like Kemuel who were cast out, dropped down here to die, yet somehow hung on to live like the walking dead. Why else would they be down here?

  We wait for what seems like hours, until we can no longer hear them, until we are sure they are long gone. Clay turns to me.

  “What now?” he whispers.

  I shrug, forgetting he can't hear me. “I don't know. My plan is ruined. Maybe we—”

  A hand reaches out of the darkness and drags me off the ledge. I fall, smashing into the ground. My wind gone, I suck air. Hands grip my arms and yank me up. A body, smelling like death, holds me tight.

  “Did you tell themmm?” the garbled voice breathes into my neck. “We're ssstill here.”

  Chapter 22

  I fight against my attacker, but his arms are steel. The smell of his rotting skin makes me gag. His breath on my neck makes my knees weak.

  The lantern flicks on and I slam my eyes shut against the assault of light. When I can open my eyes, Clay stands before me, his revolver aimed above my head.

  “Let her go!” The gunslinger look is back, the determination flashing in his eyes. I lash back and forth against my attacker, but he holds me tight. He fits his body behind me, giving Clay nothing to aim at.

  “We are here,” the creature behind me breathes. Hearing his voice, the monsters rush back down the cave. They look just about as awful as I remember: lesion-covered skulls shining, open sores dripping. A dozen of them lurch toward us. And they look pissed.

  Clay flashes the lantern at them and they shrink back, covering their eyes. They advance with their eyes closed, hands reaching. Fear floods Clay's face. On the ledge, Mama cradles Ethan in her arms.

  “What d'you want?” Clay yells at the one holding me.

  The thing behind me draws a wet, rattling breath. “We want vengenccce,” he says slowly, drawing out the word like it's holy.

  “I'm sorry. I shouldn't've shot ya. You came at us like…like animals.”

  “We are not animalsss,” he hisses. His hands flex around my biceps.

  “Okay, okay,” Clay says, lowering the gun. “You're not. Sorry.”

  “Sssorry will not raissse the dead,” the thing behind me says. I don't like his tone. It sounds like he's smiling.

  The monsters fall on Clay, a tangle of ruined arms and legs. Clay cries out. The lantern drops, throwing crazy shadows everywhere. My attacker's hands loosen as he watches his people struggle with Clay. This is my chance. I yank away and his hands slip off. He howls. I duck to the right as he claws at my shirt. Then I dive into a pile of rancid bodies and reach for Clay.

  I punch. I kick. The smell of rot is awful. I try not to breathe. The lantern rolls, throwing light around so I can't tell who I'm fighting. A beam lands on the shelf where my family sat. Only now the creatures are dragging them off. Mama screams as they pull Ethan from her arms. Then the lantern rolls away. In the darkness, Ethan cries out.

  “Ethan!” I yell, abandoning this scrum of bodies. I grope in the dark for my brother. My hand reaches the rock wall. Ethan, he must be somewh—

  Something huge and hard smashes into my skull. Stars explode in my brain. My legs unlock and the ground slides up to meet me. I lie there, fading out as heat sears my skull. Then a faraway pain. Then Ethan crying. Then nothing.

  I wake to darkness. Pain radiates from the top of my skull down into my spine. It throbs with the slow, steady beat of my heart. My arms are bound behind my back by what feels like rough twine, pinching and twisting the skin. With my eyes closed, the smells and sounds wake me to the horror. We've been captured by these monsters. Their rancidness clings to every inch of this space.

  I open my eyes and the pain in my head flares like a rocket. I am lying on my side. The ground is rough beneath me. We're still in the caves, though God knows where. Ten feet away a fire sputters, lighting the cave in orange and black. Whatever they’re burning smells like hot feces as it crackles over the fire. As I lift my head, Clay turns toward me, relief flooding his face. I open my mouth to speak, but he shakes his head, a quick snap to tell me to keep quiet. His eyes flick sideways and mine follow.

  The monsters move around on the other side of the fire. One skins a small black bat and its fuzzy skin peels off like a sock. Another slump-shouldered woman with one stumped arm uses a flat rock to drop more of whatever they’re burning onto the fire. The stink of hot waste makes me gag. They're definitely burning feces. How can they stand it? I tuck my mouth into the collar of my shirt.

  My eyes rove the clearing for the rest of my family. Rayburn and Mama sit a few feet to the left, their wrists also bound. I search for Ethan, but he's nowhere. What have these monsters done with my brother?

  One of the creatures lurches into the light. I recognize my attacker from the cave fight. He's also the one who untied me when Andrew left me chained. Where has his kindness fled to?

  Now that I look him over, I realize it's not a he, it's a she. He
r voice was so garbled I couldn't tell, but now in the light, her female form shows through her ragged clothing. Her body shows less decay than the others. There are a few patches of white-blond hair on her skull, long and stringy like corn silk. She has working use of all her limbs, a fairly amazing feat down here. When she opens her mouth to breathe, she reveals empty gums with four remaining teeth that hang crooked and yellow. Her clothes are strips of fraying material that only cover her most private parts.

  When she whirls toward me, my insides go cold. Too late to feign sleep. She narrows her eyes and lurches over.

  “Awake,” she rasps, leaning down to look at me. One puffy lid droops over her left eye. I pull back as her breath hits me.

  “Yes,” I finally manage. I force myself to look her in the eyes. “Where's my brother?”

  She glances over her shoulder at the group behind her. Most have stopped working and are focused on us. My insides curl like orange rinds. Then I notice something else. Most of the creatures are female. No, not most, all. I shoot Clay a look to see if he's noticed, but the speaker leans into my line of vision.

  “Your brother'sss being kept. For insssuranccce.” She lisps the words like her tongue is a dead thing.

  “I want him back,” I snap.

  She shakes her head. “Not yet.”

  I frown. “Why are we tied up?”

  “You attacked ussss,” she rasps. “You killed two.” She holds up two dirty fingers.

  Behind her, the group mumbles angrily. One mutant, with a few strands of hair clinging desperately to her head, lurches forward and shakes a fist. Her one working eye rolls angrily. “Kill, kill!” she shrieks. The others howl in agreement.

  Clay snaps up, heat flaring into his cheeks. “I tol’ you. You came at me like rabid dogs. What you 'spect me to do?” He shoots me a pained look. “If anyone's to blame, let it be me. Let the rest go. I'll pay for my crimes.”

  “Clay, no.” I haul myself to a sitting position. Pain knifes through my skull, but I manage to ignore it. “It's not his fault.” I turn to the speaker. “What's your name?”

  The woman hovering over me looks surprised. “Name?” She grinds her four teeth together. “We are…the Forgotten.”

  Behind her, the rest of the women nod their ruined heads.

  I try another strategy. “I remember you,” I say quietly. “You helped me. I told the Messiah you were still here.”

  At the mention of the Messiah, a shriek echoes from the group. I cringe as the awful moans reverberate around the cavern. The speaker hunches down, covering her head with her hands.

  “We do not sssspeak that name. He issss the one who decreed we be put out.”

  When I heard they “put people out” I assumed it meant the road and the blazing heat of the desert. Somehow this fate seems worse: trapped underground, your only water source the poison that'll eat at your guts. But, why are they all women? I look around the crowd. They're listening to me. Maybe if I can talk them into seeing things our way, they'll forget that Clay killed two of their own. If only I can figure out what they want. “The Mes… I mean, the leader put you down here?” I ask.

  The speaker shrugs her skeletal shoulders. “Hisss men did. An…drew,” she says, slowly as if uncovering the buried memory from under yards of dirt. “He usssed to bring usss food. Now he left usss to die.”

  I mull this over. “The leader might not've known what Andrew was doing.” There's an angry mumble from the crowd. One woman with an empty eye socket shakes a fist at me.

  The speaker nods slowly. Her few hairs waft up and down. “Andrew will be punissshed.”

  “Good.” I nod with her. So, we have one thing in common. If I keep her talking, maybe we'll find more equal footing. “How d'you, er, ladies survive down here?”

  The speaker points to the lake and then to the woman skinning the bat. She's slicing open the bat's bloody body and removing small, squishy innards. My gorge rises, but I swallow hard and continue. “Bats?” I ask.

  She nods, her moldy-fruit tongue roving around her remaining teeth. She points to a mound in the corner that I'd mistaken as a mound of dirt. As I look closer the mound reveals itself to be dozens of fuzzy, winged bodies. Dead bats. This time I visibly shudder. Clay clears his throat beside me, clearly trying not to gag.

  “That's awful,” I say. The speaker narrows her eyes. “I mean,” I say, “it’s awful they made you live this way.”

  Behind the speaker, a few of the mutants nod.

  “Is there any other way out of the tunnels other than up into the mall?” It's my most important question, the one I've been dying to ask. Hope rises in my throat.

  “No,” she says, dropping her head. The firelight gleams of the hairless patches. “Sssome have tried to find the sssun.” She takes a deep, ragged breath. “They've not returned.”

  My hope sinks. I drop my eyes. What do we do now? A tunnel out was my only plan. To know that there's no way out… The cave walls seem to close in until I'm having trouble breathing.

  “You ever tried to fight yer way out?” Clay juts his chin at some of the rock tools stacked beside the fire. “You could do some damage with those.”

  The speaker glares at Clay. When she's angry, all of the humanity washes out of her face and once again she's the monster, lurching after us. “We are weakened.” Her ruined voice warbles. “If we fight, we die.”

  “If you stay, you die,” Clay snaps.

  A few of the mutants shoot Clay sharp glances and bare their teeth.

  “He's trying to help,” I say, scrambling to think. I'm losing my footing with them. I need to get it back. A thought flits in my mind. Should I tell them? As I'm mulling it over, the snarling woman picks up a sharp rock, the size and shape of a dagger. She lurches toward Clay with it.

  “The Messiah is dead.” The words jump out of my mouth, before I've realized what I'm doing.

  A gasp from the crowd. A few push in to peer into my face, as if mulling over my words. The woman with the rock dagger stops in mid-stride.

  “It's true,” I say to everyone. “Clay killed him.”

  Clay stiffens and shoots me a look. I nod slightly and turn back to the group, holding my breath. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.

  The speaker studies my face. “The Messssiah isss dead?”

  I nod. “Just now.”

  “Why are you here?” she asks. “To tell usss thisss?” Her cloudy eyes follow my every movement.

  “They want to kill us.” I look at Clay unsure of my next words. “For killing their leader.”

  The speaker looks at me and then lopes over to the group. The dozen mutants fold into a huddle. Their ruined voices struggle to form sentences, but can't make out what they are saying.

  Finally, the speaker lumbers over, but I don't like the look on her face.

  “What?” I ask, leaning forward. “What did they say?”

  “We sssay,” she says slowly, “the time for remembering isss here. We go up and reclaim our place. While they are weakessst.”

  I nod. “Okay. Let's go.”

  She shakes her head. “You'll go. We trade you for our freedom.”

  Chapter 23

  We walk between burning torches with mutants on either side. They shove us forward, back to the very people who swore to kill us.

  The group was ready to leave in ten minutes, fastening torches, smearing guano on the torch tops so now we trail the rancid burning stench with us. They have pulled out sharpened rocks, as pointy and dangerous as daggers, likely honed in the dark with vengeance in mind. They peppered us with questions: Who's left in charge? What weapons do they have?

  I hang my head in shame as my feet navigate over the rocky terrain. My gambit failed and now the mutants think we are worth something to the people upstairs. I tried to tell them Andrew wants us dead and doesn't care how. He'd be happy if we languished like them, eating bats and stinking of guano until we go crazy from contaminated water. But the group is not exactly logical. If their skin and h
air has decayed this much, I can only imagine what their brains look like. Still, if I hadn't told them about Clay killing the Messiah, we might not be in this predicament. I kick a stone, feeling like dirt.

  Mama lumbers in front of me, her steps slow and painful. Even from behind I can tell the baby is moving, invading her body. My chest constricts with the weight of our situation. How can I save Mama? How can I save anyone?

  Ethan is walking somewhere behind us. I caught a glimpse of him before we headed out. Some wizened old hag with most of her nose missing dragged him out of a cave, a leather thong around his neck like a dog. These people may have been compassionate once, but all humanity has been leeched into the darkness.

  We reach the base of the incline that winds its way up. A shove from behind sends me skidding into the rock wall.

  The speaker inches along the incline and leans into my ear. “You go firssst,” she whispers, her dead breath pulsing on my neck. “Tell them the Forgotten are here…to make a deal.”

  “What if they shoot me?” I whisper, looking into her eyes for some compassion.

  The whites of her eyes are yellow like custard. “That isss none of our concccern.”

  “Great,” I say, frowning. “And what if they don't give two rips that the Forgotten are here?”

  She ponders this for a moment as if the thought never crossed her mind. She scratches a nail-less finger through her remaining strands of hair. “Tell them we have the one who killed the Messssiah.”

  I stare up at the dim light filtering from the mall. “Yeah, well, they might not care about that either.”

  She prods my back. I shuffle up the incline and cringe when my eyes crest over the tunnel's top. I stop and survey the mall floor. No one around. No sign of the guards who were supposed to be posted here. Son of a… We could've just climbed back up and walked out?!

  I stride up the rest of the incline, listening, looking. The mall is quiet as death. I thought the people would still be wailing about the death of their Messiah. I'd pictured an all-night candlelight vigil. But nothing? The skin on my arms crawls. It doesn't feel right.