The Warrior

by Victoria Scott

  Rainfall

  The room is dark when I come in. Charlie sits by herself in the lounge area, her face tilted toward the ceiling. I decide she must be asleep, but when I close the door behind me, her head snaps in my direction.

  “Dante,” she breathes.

  She’s off the couch and in my arms in a flash. I bury my head in her hair and she squeezes my waist with the eagerness of a pup.

  “You’re soaking wet,” she says, lifting her head to stare into my eyes. “And you’re shaking.”

  “I’m fine.” Now that I’m safe, holding Charlie against me, I can’t help but relive the fear from that flooded tunnel. I hold her tighter, confiscating her body’s warmth. The feel of her hands rubbing my back soothes my worries.

  “Did you find Lincoln?” she asks.

  I tell her I did.

  “Why are you drenched?”

  I tell her I’m okay, not to worry.

  “Kraven wouldn’t let me out of my room all day,” she says in a rush. “But I snuck out once. I wanted to know if anyone had heard from you. And maybe one more time to meet Oswald. Dante, we found another phrase on the scroll.”

  I cup her face in my hands. “What did it say?”

  She licks her lips. “Unconscious words spoken on an unpracticed tongue will drive the beast down.”

  “Wow. That sounds ominous, and predictably confusing.”

  She bounces on the tips of her toes. “We already solved the two. You found the sparrow in the room unburned, and the humans, those with hardened hands, have agreed to help us fight. If we can figure this out, that leaves only one phrase left.”

  “A phrase we may never unlock.”

  She waves her hand like this isn’t important now. “Babe, what happened to you?”

  “I brought something for you.” I step closer to Charlie, forgetting the chill in my bones, the water pooling on the floor.

  When she tilts her head with curiosity, I pull a bag of dripping Skittles from my pocket. It’s a wonder they managed to stay put after what I went through. I guess the ocean isn’t one for rainbow-inspired candies.

  Charlie laughs though I can tell she’s still worried. She presses her lips against my neck. “We need to get you out of those clothes.”

  My body reacts with the swiftness of an asteroid.

  Charlie takes my hand and leads me toward my room. She walks through it and into the bathroom. Charlie reaches out and locks the door that leads to Annabelle’s room. She turns toward me, and she grins. In that small smile I see love, but I also see relief. She’s glad I’m back, but she’s also desperate to be close to me, to reassure herself that I’m close.

  I’m desperate for that, too.

  Her hands take the bottom of my shirt and time slows down. Her blue eyes connect with mine, and she pulls the shirt from my back.

  It falls to the floor.

  “You weren’t even gone a day,” she says. “And it felt like you’d never return.”

  I sigh, because I know exactly what she means.

  “I’ve been distant with you.” Her lips come to rest over my heart. She presses a light kiss there and then kisses me again on the hollow between my collarbones. “It felt wrong to be together when Aspen…”

  She trails off and closes her eyes.

  She opens them.

  “I don’t want distance between us anymore,” she whispers. “I’m not afraid of what will happen. But that doesn’t mean I want anything to change.”

  Her finger slides along the hem of my jeans and her mouth finds mine. I want to ask what she means. What does she believe will happen? But with her lips pressed against me and her hands moving lower, my mind spins out of control. All I know is that I was cold. And Charlie…Charlie is filling me with comfort. My body warms to her touch and the memory of what happened minutes earlier leaves me in a rush.

  My legs threaten to buckle. My arms are weak. But somehow in this moment, I find the strength to stand.

  And so much more.

  Charlie unbuttons my jeans and my body shakes. This time, it’s not from cold or exhaustion. It’s from her. This girl I love who’s telling me she wants to be together again. It hasn’t been that long.

  It’s been an eternity.

  She pushes my jeans over my hips. I step out of them when they slump to the floor. Charlie steps away and the absence of her is a pain I can feel. She turns off the lights. I want to ask her to turn them back on. I want to see every last curve of her. I want to take in her face when she calls out my name.

  But when her hands return to my chest, the argument dies on my tongue. With the lights out, and no window to accommodate the moon, we are in complete darkness. When she touches me, I feel absolute. It’s like our worries and fears are gone. Our voices—gone.

  All that’s left is our bodies. To touch, to tell each other how we feel. My hands run up her slender back slowly. I take her thin cotton shirt in my hands and pull it off. When her stomach kisses mine, I lose my mind to her. I can’t stop. I can’t slow down. My fingers find the button to her shorts and I pull them off.

  The rest of our clothes fall away.

  Charlie’s hand slips into mine and she leads the way. I fumble in the dark, not sure where she intends to take me. Then I know.

  The door of the shower slides open and I hear the unmistakable sound of streaming water. She guides me for a couple more steps and then the water is hitting my shoulders, racing down my chest, sliding over my hips and thighs. My hair mats to my head and I brush it back with my hands and tilt my face to the water. She sets the water to hot and already the chill that stretched into my bones has left. Steam fills the small glass space and envelopes our bodies.

  I reach up and take Charlie’s face. My lips find hers. I kiss her slowly, but with deepness. I want her to know I’m not letting go this time. My hands slide down the length of her body, feeling her breasts and the curve of her hips. Charlie explores my body, too. She slides her fingers over my shoulders, over the dragon tattoo covering my back. She dips lower and grabs hold of my rear, pulls me toward her.

  Her lips move to my neck. She walks a trail of kisses toward my ear and when she can’t reach the place she wants, she stands on tip toes and wraps her arms around my neck, dipping my head closer. Her tongue flicks over my earlobe and I crumble with desire. The water washing over our bodies, Charlie’s soft, sweet body next to mine, the minutes that felt like days while I was gone—these things combine to create this perfect moment.

  And nothing will stop the two of us from being together.

  “Charlie, are you in there?” Annabelle yells. “Why is the door locked?”

  My heads falls back and I groan.

  “Oh, man,” Annabelle says. “Please, please don’t tell me that was Dante.”

  “Hey, Anna,” I say, half frustrated, half amused.

  “No,” Annabelle says quietly. “No, Charlie isn’t in there. You’re just taking a shower. That’s disgusting enough. But Charlie, my best friend, is not in there with you.”

  Charlie is covering her mouth. I can barely see her, but I absolutely know she is. I pinch her butt and she squeals.

  “Oh, gawd,” Annabelle moans. “I’ll never be able to shower again.”

  “We’re getting out.” I leave the water’s heat and fumble for two towels.

  “Oh, no,” Annabelle says, though now I’m beginning to detect a note of humor in her words. “By all means, please continue screwing in the shower. Hey, maybe you want to use my bed next.”

  “Good night, Annabelle,” I say.

  Charlie finds her voice. “I’m so sorry, Annabelle.”

  “What are you apologizing for?” I say.

  “Because she realizes there’s no sex in communal showers,” Annabelle calls out from farther away, probably her bed. “It’s like common law.”

  Charlie takes the towel I hand her, dries off, and dives into my bed, mortified. I know there won’t be any more sexy times tonight, though that doesn’t stop me from tr
ying. She shoos me off and giggles into my chest. And somewhere in the late hour, with Charlie curled close to me, I fall asleep.

  My last thought before I nod off is of Aspen. Charlie was right after all; it makes me sick to smile while she’s trapped inside hell.

  28

  Pow!

  I speak with Kraven briefly before training. He assures me he has a strategy for war, but he won’t reveal it. I tell him to try a little trust and see how it tastes. He also tells me that he questioned everyone in the hive, and that no one said anything worrisome. His confidence doesn’t soothe my anxiety, but maybe now that the traitor knows we’re suspicious, they’ll back off. The Quiet Ones are watching the weapon room day and night, he adds, which is good. But now that the tunnel is flooded, there’s no way to sneak in or out of the Hive, which is bad.

  All in all, it sounds like a typical craptastic situation that is a day in the Hive.

  We train for hours, until our muscles lock up and our teeth are set on edge. Every liberator completes Sector 3, Incapacitation. Now we’re on to Sector 4. The general sentiment in the room when Kraven announced the title of the fourth sector—Execution—was pretty much, It’s getting real up in here.

  Blue is working with me, Max, and Paine today since there aren’t any walkers left to create a third group. As I battle against the three guys, I can’t stop thinking about the missing humans. I wish I’d gotten to know them better. I wish I’d thought to ask their names. As I try out a technique that involves snapping someone’s neck, Kraven taps me on the shoulder.

  “Go and work with Valery and Neco,” he says.

  I glance at him and then at my crew. “No dice. I like working with my boys.”

  Kraven steps toward me. One moment he’s a friend and confidant, the next he’s my freaking big brother gone rage. “Go.”

  Paine nods toward Red, and I sigh. I snatch a water bottle from the ground and head over to their group of two. “Why are there even groups anymore? Shouldn’t we all be working together?”

  Cyborg ignores me and demonstrates a new move involving a direct blow to the throat. But as he’s talking, all I can think about is Neco. He’s eyeing me and I’m eyeing him and I want to open a can of whoop ass so bad I can smell it.

  So I punch him.

  His head cracks back and I relish the sting in my knuckles.

  “What the hell, freak?” he growls, grasping his face. He moans into his hands and then stands up straight. “For the last time, I only said what I did to get you to fight harder.”

  “Eat a dick.”

  Neco shakes his head and then Kraven snarls something about off sides or out of bounds or foul ball or some kind of horse crap.

  “Go and take a breather, Neco,” Kraven orders.

  “Why me?” he argues. “He’s the one that punched me.”

  My nose scrunches. “Aw, are you upset with Mommy? Want a snack pack to pacify your feelers?”

  “Dante.” Max is suddenly beside me. I glance at his face for a moment. He’s wearing an unreadable expression, and a subtle nagging twists my stomach. I quickly push it aside and turn back to Neco.

  The liberator glares at me and storms toward the exit. For one fleeting moment, I begin to doubt my suspicion. But then Neco stops in the doorway—and as everyone is arguing among themselves about whether it’s break time—he shoots me a grin so wicked it lights my britches on fire.

  He forms a gun with his hand and fires it off it in my direction. His mouth forms a word I can’t hear. But I can read his lips just fine. Neco, that bastard, just said, “Pow!”

  That’s it.

  I’m paying Neco a visit tonight, and I’m going to put the hurt on him until he admits what I already know—he is the traitor.

  …

  Late that evening, after Charlie has fallen asleep and I’ve had some time to calm down, I decide to chat with the old man in the basement. He was the first one to tell me about a traitor, so maybe he has some tips on how best to deal with this situation. After all, if I’m wrong (which I’m not), I may be ridding ourselves of a liberator we need in the fight against hell. As far as I’m concerned, this is the most pressing matter at hand. If we rid ourselves of the traitor, we can stop the vultrips from opening. Like Kraven said, he doesn’t believe they’re trying to destroy us. Not yet. They’re just trying to weaken us.

  So let’s get rid of the weak link.

  I consider letting Charlie sleep, but I know she’ll maim me if I don’t wake her. She climbs out of Annabelle’s bed quickly, and follows me into the hallway.

  “I want to see if I’m right about Neco being the traitor,” I tell her when we’re a safe distance from our bedrooms.

  She rubs her face and yawns. “I don’t think it’s him. Why would he have said the things he did if he was? It’s too obvious.”

  “Because he’s an overconfident turd. I hate guys like him.”

  Charlie stifles a laugh, but doesn’t respond when I ask her what’s funny.

  Outside the Hive, a storm rages. Thunder rattles the bones of the makeshift mansion and rain pelts the newly patched roof. As we head toward the basement, I think about the sirens outside, clinging to the ocean cliffs. I imagine lightning slicing the sky, illuminating the dozens of rain-drenched bodies. The thought is an unsettling one. It doesn’t help that when we get to the basement, Oswald is nowhere in sight.

  “Old man?” I call out.

  When I don’t get an answer, we stroll through the room, dodging his collection of lamps. I pick up shoes laces that I know I’ve seen Paine wearing and shake my head. Old Man steals stuff like a robin making a nest.

  Charlie has stopped in front of Oswald’s desk, her back pressed against it.

  I stride toward her, and she moves a fraction to the left, almost like she’s blocking me from seeing something. I narrow my eyes and step closer.

  “Just…don’t freak out,” she says.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I nudge her away from the desk and spot the scroll lying on the desk. Except part of it is missing. The bottom part, the part that must have held the last and final piece of the scroll, is missing.

  I instantly forget about Neco and the vultrips and grind my teeth together. “Where is it?”

  Charlie bites her bottom lips. “It vanished when you were gone.”

  “You didn’t tell me.” I close my eyes against the sting.

  “Oswald looked everywhere. Kraven did, too.”

  I wince. “Kraven knew about this also?”

  She doesn’t respond.

  I rush to the opposite desk, ripping out drawers and overturning them. Pens and pencils and paperclips clatter to the floor. Note cards and markers and a bronze paperweight. But no missing piece of the scroll. I’m about to turn the entire desk over on its side when I see the list of phrases on the desk’s surface.

  I’m almost growling when Charlie whispers my name.

  My eyes travel over the words.

  I relax.

  I breathe.

  My mind rushes back to the training room incident with Neco, the time I experienced super human strength. And then to the library when I understood a language I shouldn’t have. Something is happening to me, and I’ve had so little time to question it. Now, though, worry twists my stomach. I like to think if there’s one thing I know, it’s me. But lately I’ve felt alien inside my body. It’s an unsettling feeling, one I enjoy ignoring.

  And now the last part of the scroll, the very thing we believed could help us win this war, is gone. Maybe if I can interpret the phrases. Maybe if I spoke them aloud, I could somehow find it.

  The house rocks from the storm and I ease my mind back onto the page. Rain beats down, the lights flicker, but still I study a singular word.

  Havaga

  Charlie crosses the distance between us. “Dante, don’t be angry that I didn’t tell you.”

  I roll the word over inside my mind, inside my mouth. I don’t know this word. I don’t know this word.

/>   Yes, you do.

  I shut my eyes and drop the paper. It flutters downward but I don’t hear it brush across the floor. The rain is too loud, the sky too wrathful, Charlie is too present. I press my knuckles to my temples and push. What is happening to me? What is happening to all of us? Oswald is deadly, my girlfriend has a buried power, Kraven’s face changed the night of the fire, and I can do things I shouldn’t be able to. It’s as if all these years we harbored secrets, and as the war grows closer, we begin to whisper them awake.

  I glance up at the ceiling.

  What is wrong with me?

  Charlie must see the look on my face, because she grabs hold of my arm. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

  I don’t know who I’m speaking to in my head. Not Him. Even if I were, it’s not like He’d listen to an imp like me. I tilt my head and keep my eyes closed. I listen, I listen, and Charlie stays quiet beside me. But all I hear is the thrumming of my heart and the wind leaning strong shoulders into the Hive.

  I chastise myself for even pretending I’d hear a response. Not that I was really expecting anything. When Charlie reaches for me, I allow myself to be wrapped up into her arms.

  A loud scream rings through the house and my eyes snap open. Charlie meets my gaze, I spot my fear mirrored in her face.

  We run.

  Pulling on my shadow, I slow to a stop and listen. If someone has broken in, let them believe Charlie is alone. Let them believe I’m not right here, ready to tear them apart with my teeth if they touch her.

  When I hear the voice again, I realize it’s Annabelle. Anxiety ignites my muscles with renewed energy, and we run faster. But when we hear a second voice, we both stop. Kraven is with Annabelle. The rain is roaring overhead, so we inch closer to hear what’s being said. Charlie glances at me like she’s wondering whether we should announce ourselves. I raise a finger to my lips.

  “Tell me,” Annabelle snaps. “Where would you have me go?”

  Footsteps, and then Kraven speaking in hushed tones. “Don’t twist my words.”

  “Words.” Annabelle laughs. “What words?! You hardly speak. What do you want from me, Kraven? I came for Charlie, and I stay for Charlie.”

  “That isn’t true,” Kraven says, finding his voice.