Prey (The Shade Chronicles Book 1)

by T. K. Bradley

  "Nothing," I say. "Nothing is going on."

  Dad pulls his head up with extreme effort, and we stand together in the street, watching the department store burn. Thick black smoke billows from the broken window.

  "Will it burn itself out?" Brent asks.

  "Maybe," Dad says with a shrug.

  But I'm not so sure. The sun has basically turned everything here into kindling. Each building is nothing more than a matchstick, waiting for a spark. And without a single bead of moisture, I'm not really sure there's anything that can stop this fire from burning. It will likely eat through everything in its path, including the hospital.

  "We'd better get going. We may be safe from those creatures for now, but we're still racing against the sun."

  "Wait. Look!" Dad's watching the broken window where we had just performed our brilliant—albeit lucky—escape. There's movement within the smoke, something pushing the swirls about in a roiling pattern. I can just see the outline of a monster watching us. It doesn't seem at all bothered by the smoke. In fact, it almost seems to be wrapping itself within the thick cloud, using it as cover.

  "The sun... it won't step out into the bright street."

  Dad gives a terse nod. "We'll be safe from the monsters. For now." I can't get a read on my father's expression. He's hiding something from us, and I hate to think what it could be. Maybe something to do with that unmarked door in the compound. Would he tell us if we asked? I'm not so sure. He's always shut down that conversation in the past, but maybe things have changed now that we're on the outside. Now that not knowing might put us at risk.

  The three of us start for the hospital once again, now at a more manageable pace. By the placement of the sun, and the rising temperature, we probably have an hour to get to the hospital before our skin starts to blister. My long sleeves and pantlegs are plastered to my body, and I want nothing but to strip them off or roll them up, but I know even without the sun at its highest, I can still burn. Luckily, the path we had outlined to the hospital is protected by the skyline, but not for much longer.

  "So," I begin, distracting myself with awkward conversation. "If the beasts are hiding out in the dark somewhere, how do we know what buildings will be safe? How many of those things are there?"

  I can feel my dad's shrug with his arm draped across my back. "I guess we won't know for sure if any buildings are safe. We'll have to watch our backs. Proceed with caution." He looks over at my scoff, and gives a sigh. "And as far as how many? I was tracking reported sightings, which have drastically increased lately, but the obvious problem is that our scavengers haven't been returning. Hard to tell how they died exactly, but I'd say it's safe to say they may have run into those things." He avoids looking me in the eye.

  I can't help but feel betrayed. He knew. Even before we left, he knew. And he said nothing to us, gave no warning. I want to lash out, to yell at him, berate, maybe even slap him. But what good will that do?

  At my dad's hiss of pain, I realize I may have been squeezing his wrist a little too hard. "Sorry," I say, loosening my grip, though it doesn't sound like I'm even a little sorry.

  We walk without speaking, each lost in our own thoughts. Or more accurately, lost in the plodding of our feet. It's too hot to concentrate on any one thought, and errant memories and dreams trickle through my fingers like sand. We trudge forward without hearing a single sound other than our grunts and our feet shuffling through the dust and dirt. No wind, no birds—none of the sounds I had been so eager for when we left the compound. The garden held more life than out here. Maybe even more than what’s left in the whole world… My gut clenches at the thought.

  Soon enough—which is entirely too long—we see the hospital looming ahead.

  Once upon a time, hospitals were where you went when you needed help. They were for the sick and injured, but this is the least inviting place I've ever seen. It's in worse shape than I could have imagined. It has clearly been looted, probably more than once. The doors and windows are all missing from their frames, leaving nothing but a skeletal structure full of gaping holes. I'm surprised it's still standing. Though with the growing cloud of smoke in the sky behind us, I'm sure it won't be for much longer.

  We stagger through the doorway just as the sun is cresting the rooftops. Dad's arm slides from my shoulders, and he slumps to the ground in a heap. Brent is next, collapsing onto his knees. I take one step, two, and then the floor rises up to meet me and I black out, embracing the shadows without giving any thought to what could be lurking within.

  22

  Kenzo

  For one long second, we’re thrown into complete darkness.

  “What the fuck?” I hear a soldier sputter down the hall. They were in the middle of a patrol change, so I’m gifted with all kinds of profanity as a patrol unit stumbles in the sudden pitch black.

  It’s just for one moment, but it feels like an hour when you don’t know whether the lights are coming back on or not. They quickly flare back to life, and we all swivel our heads around as if looking for some kind of threat. Go figure, when you live in a world of monsters that we should be scared of the dark.

  It doesn’t help that the vibrating from the Shredder’s room has been going nearly non-stop since sundown. I dart my eyes in the room’s direction, but the door is still thankfully sealed. It’s solid steel, inches thick. There’s no way he’s getting out anytime soon, even if he weren’t also strapped down to a table.

  My attempt to reassure myself is feeble at best.

  “Hey, doc, what’s going on?” I turn to the voice to find four sets of eyes staring at me.

  I frown and bite back, “Why the hell are you asking me? It’s like you guys have never seen a power outage.”

  I almost feel bad for snapping at the young man who spoke, but then he flips his middle finger at me as they file out into the compound. Asshole.

  Normally, I would be in the hospital in case anyone needs me. It’s Eleanor’s night off. But something doesn’t feel right about these brownouts. The feeling of unease that has been plaguing me began way before tonight, though. Even before Lori and her family made a break for it, although the gaping loneliness I now feel certainly doesn’t help matters. Without Lori to distract me, I have nothing left to do but worry about the road Howell has us on.

  Fucking Howell, I haven’t seen hide nor hair of that bastard for two days. As soon as the lights gave their first flicker, he bowed out into his reinforced fortress, and I suspect he won’t be back anytime soon. Not when there’s a chance that something might be happening, something could go wrong.

  And as Ellis comes rushing in, lackey in tow behind him, I can tell that something has gone wrong. His blue eyes are pale and flashing, but he’s a soldier at heart and nothing can make him lose his composure at this stage of the game.

  “What is it?” I ask him as he marches up to my side.

  “We have to kill it.” It’s not exactly an explanation, but at the same time it is.

  We both turn our heads to look through the window at the Shredder. It swivels its head to look at us, and the light glints off its teeth as it grins wide and menacing. It purses its lips to blow a kiss at us and then continues with its low vibration, echoing through the halls of the compound. As if in response, the lights give a replying flicker.

  They’re able to communicate somehow, and the other monsters are outside, doing their best to incapacitate us.

  “Right,” I say now with resolve, squaring my shoulders. “Kill it. Sure, no problem.” I can feel the sweat beading on my forehead and dripping down the inside of my shirt, cold on my fevered skin. “Has Howell approved this?”

  I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth. Of course he hasn’t approved it. This is his toy. And now I’ve put Ellis in an impossible situation. He could be reprimanded for his actions. I hate to imagine what kind of punishment such blatant disregard for orders could entail. Ellis narrows his eyes at me, and instead of lying, he chooses instead not to answer a
t all.

  I approve of his avoidance tactic.

  Ellis snaps his hand out and closes it around the uniform of the soldier who trailed in behind him. I’ve seen him around before—the name Harker flickers through my memory before I can banish it. I don’t want to get attached to this soldier in any way, shape, or form. He has a dangerous job to do. I’ll get attached to him later, after it’s all over.

  “All right, soldier?” Ellis commands. He’s not asking him, he’s telling him: You’re all right.

  “Sir, yes, sir,” the young man barks back, straightening his spine. He’s got guts, I’ll give him that. Let’s just hope those guts stay on the inside where they belong.

  “You know your mission?”

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  “Then get in there and show me how it’s done.”

  Ellis nods to me to open the door. I gulp down any doubt that I have, and pull back the deadbolt.

  Harker is a battle-hardened soldier. No, he hasn’t fought in any war that you’d find in a history textbook, especially not at his young age, but he’s scarred in ways that are new to this world. He doesn’t show a single iota of doubt or hesitation as he charges into the room.

  Ellis closes the door behind him, as per security protocol. The slide of the bolt sends a shiver down my spine. We crowd around the small window, watching it play out. Harker unsheathes the knife from its scabbard on his belt; all it will take is a quick stab to the eye socket, straight into its brain. Seems simple enough.

  Harker holds the knife blade down, and his knuckles are white on the grip as he positions it to deliver the fatal strike. But then I see movement and look down to the edge of the table to see a leather strap swinging loose. “Harker! Back up!”

  But it’s too late.

  As he’s bringing his knife down, the Shredder slashes up with his arm, completely free from its restraint. How long as he been waiting with his arm free like that?

  With that realization, my stomach lurches. The whole thing was a trap.

  Harker’s blade never makes contact.

  All it takes is one quick swipe, and an inhuman shriek comes through the speaker; I’m not sure if it’s from Harker or the Shredder.

  “No,” I gasp.

  Ellis doesn’t hesitate, he’s just suddenly in motion. He throws back the bolt and swings the door open, dashing in and drawing his blade in the same movement. “Close the door!” he shouts at me without even bothering to look back. “Lock it!”

  Dammit, how can he be thinking about the stupid security protocol at a time like this?! No matter the unreasonable rationale, I find my hands moving of their own volition, quickly closing the door. The slam of the metal sealing Ellis into the room feels so final, like the closing of a coffin. The bolt sliding shut might as well be the final nail in the lid.

  My heart is thrumming like there’s a rat scurrying around inside my chest. Through the tiny square window, I get flashes of color, of movement. The red blood pooling on the floor, dripping from above, from Harker’s fingertips hanging limply from the table. His body is draped over the Shredder. Is it eating him?

  Sick revulsion twists my stomach into knots, and I focus on the horror so I don’t acknowledge that it’s something that I could understand… hunger… it’s such a basic human instinct. But it’s not human, I remind myself. Not anymore. And I refuse to admit we could have anything even remotely in common.

  Ellis throws himself forward, and the Shredder hauls Harker’s corpse higher, turning the body into a human shield. It’s protecting its only known weakness, its eyes.

  As they grapple, I feel a surge of hope. The Shredder clearly hasn’t managed to escape its other bindings, so it’s fighting with just one arm. Surely Ellis can beat it down without too much difficulty.

  Ellis darts back and forth, trying to find a clear shot. Finally, he grabs the back of Harker’s uniform and jerks the body up, turning the cadaver into his own shield, trying to deflect the Shredder’s free hand, its claws glistening with venom in the dim light.

  There! A gap in its defences!

  Ellis doesn’t hesitate; he darts forward with impossible speed. He stabs, once, twice.

  My breath is coming out in pants, hot on my parched lips. My teeth ache from clenching, my fingers screaming out in pain. My whole body is tight to the point of snapping.

  But then the clawed hand flops to the table. And just like that, it’s over.

  “Ellis?” I whisper. He stands facing the table, all fight having left his body, and he stares down as brackish gore joins the puddle of Harker’s blood on the floor, thick and viscous.

  “You did it, Ellis,” I say, my voice rising. I can’t believe it! Sure, I had hope, but deep down I had already written him off as lost.

  I scrabble with the bolt on the door. My fingers are nearly numb from clenching so tightly, and now that the adrenaline is being flushed from my body, I feel weak and sick.

  “Just gimme a second, I’ll get the door open and then…” I’m babbling, though the speaker is one way, there’s no way he can hear me.

  I pause as Ellis turns. His eyes are wide, wild with fear.

  I follow his line of sight as he looks down at his arm. There’s a thin line of blood soaking through the fabric where a small tear can be seen. He looks back up and exchanges a glance with me.

  “Ellis?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “Don’t,” he says.

  And then the lights give a faint flicker.

  Before finally going black.

  I can’t see my hand in front of my face, let alone Ellis. Is he infected? How long until he turns?

  And what did he mean by his last word, don’t? Don’t what? Don’t give up on me? Don’t bother trying to save me? My brain is scrambling, trying to piece together a meaning to that one word. I don’t want to fail him now. Not when it really matters…

  I place my hands on the thick metal door between us. And I’m suddenly grateful for those anal security protocols.

  23

  Lori

  I wake up with a throbbing headache. The inside of my mouth is pasty and dry, and when I open my eyes, I can see why. The light has changed, coming from an entirely different direction in the sky. Almost the whole day has passed by. Well, I guess that means no monsters came to eat us in our sleep, so that's a plus.

  I lift my head up, and the room swims around me. Brent and Dad are still out cold, and my heart flutters with worry. Not for Brent, since he's snoring up a storm, but Dad is lying so still, exactly where we left him when he fell to the floor. I touch my fingers against his neck and breathe a sigh of relief when I feel a pulse. So far so good, our escape seems to have luck in our favor.

  Huh. Just a few days ago, I was so depressed about how nothing was going right, but now it feels like everything is coming up roses, even though we're battered, bloody, and bruised.

  My, how my standards have changed.

  "Brent," I call over his thunderous snore. He gives a snort and twitches a bit before rousting and opening his eyes. It takes him a minute to focus on me, and he looks just as confused as I first felt waking up in this unfamiliar place. Nothing feels as it should right now, but I'm not really sure what we should expect anymore. Nothing good, anyway, I'm pretty sure that's a safe bet.

  "What time is it?" Brent asks, rubbing at his eyes.

  "Hmm, let me just check my watch," I say, checking my naked wrist and then gesturing to his own.

  “Oh, right,” Brent says quietly, glancing down at his new watch, but his mouth pulls down into a pout. He shakes his wrist and holds it up to his ear, listening. “It’s cracked.” He sighs and then takes a peek out the doorway at the sky. "Uh, it's getting too late," he says, stating the obvious. "We need to get moving before the sun goes down and those monsters can come at us. We don't know exactly how dark it needs to be before they won't burn."

  "Yeah. Better safe than sorry," I say. First priority is to track down some medicine for our dad, and then we need to find
somewhere safe to ride out the night. I give the darkened hallway ahead of us the side-eye. Years ago, this hall would have been lit up with a gajillion watts of seizure-inducing flickering fluorescence. Now, it's a good thing we have a flashlight. There aren't many windows, through the interior of the building anyway, so we should be able to avoid the sun without too much trouble.

  "Ooh!" I burst out, making Brent jump. "I have an idea!"

  "Gee, that's new," he grumbles under his breath. "I hope this one doesn't put our lives in mortal peril."

  I don't bother responding to him, I know he doesn't mean it. We're all stretched a little thin right about now, and if I take the bait, we could easily spend the next hour bickering. But we definitely don't have an hour. Maybe later, once we're safe for the night.

  I grab the flashlight from Brent's hand, eliciting a "Hey!" I dart down the hallway, trying my best to ignore the chill descending over me. I will not think about what could be prowling these halls. I will not... There! Exactly what I'm looking for!

  Brent's eyes light up when I come flying down the hallway with the wheelchair. "Ta-da!"

  "All right, your idea isn’t horrible," he admits as we gently pull our dad up into the chair. I hate how light he is, considering my memory of my father being larger than life. "It'll do for now, but these wheels will never get us far over that cracked cement out there."

  "One step at a time, Brent. We don't even know if we'll make out of this hospital alive." I'm mostly joking, but the grim reality takes the humor out of it.

  Dad barely stirs as we settle him into the chair. He gives a soft moan and his eyelids flutter, and I put a hand gently on his shoulder. "It's okay, Dad. We're safe." I try to tell myself that it isn't a lie.

  Brent stands with his hands on the handles, ready to push, but he hesitates when faced with our uncertain destination. "Any ideas where we would find medicine?"

  "Now you're asking me for advice? You can’t have it both ways, Brent. Which is it? I’m either reckless or useful."