Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel

by Linda Andrews

  The skin around the needle burned a little. It had felt like that too when she'd stuck him with medicine on the train. Nice to know he wasn't completely at their mercy. His mouth felt dry and he licked his lips. "It's Samantha Lee. We just call her Sammy."

  Doc Julia returned to the sink, took a blue cup from the shelf above and held it under the faucet. When she twisted the tap, clear water poured forth.

  Damn, these people had all the comforts.

  "The drugs will make you feel like someone unrolled a carpet in your mouth." She pressed the cup into his hand.

  He raised it to his lips, felt it slide over his parched tongue and drain down his throat. Tilting his head back, he drained the cup. The water actually tasted good.

  The door opened and a man in a white shirt and pants pushed the chair on wheels through. Blue stitching over his left breast identified him as James. He stopped the chair next to Lee's left leg. "Express train to pediatrics, now boarding."

  "Help him into the seat, James. I don't want him opening his back up again." Doc Julia plucked the cup from his hand, then grabbed the water bag draining into his arm.

  "Okay, big guy." James rubbed his hands together. "I will put my arms around you. When I say three, I want you to push, but only with your legs, got it?"

  "Got it." He wasn't an imbecile.

  Draping Lee's arm around his shoulder, James brushed against the bandages on the small of Lee's back. "One. Two. Three."

  Lee pushed. Pain ricocheted inside his skull. His legs gave out as his brain tried to process everything.

  "I got you." Hands tracked up his chest then he was slowly lowered. Cold fabric hit his backside. Something warm cradled his back.

  He swam against a tide of darkness, finally managing to surface. Sleep could wait, he had to warn Sammy.

  Doc Julia’s features tightened in concern. Her attention slipped to James and she nodded once. “We have Sammy sedated, her body needs sleep to heal. Because of the state of her immune system, she’s been isolated. You can see her, but won’t be able to touch.”

  James stood behind Lee’s chair then turned in smoothly in an arc and pushed him toward the door.

  “I can still talk to my granddaughter, right?”

  Julia shrugged and opened the door. “You can, but she may not follow the conversation or remember what you say. She’s a very sick little girl.”

  He knew that. That was why they were here. As for her not remembering, he’d have to think of an excuse if she gave her real name. “But she’ll make it.”

  “I haven’t lost a patient yet.” Julia smiled as he rolled by.

  Good. “When will she wake up?”

  “We’ll wean her off the drugs a couple days after the surgery. Most patients her age will sleep for another few days on their own, then be back to their normal after about a week.” Doc Julia walked by his chair as James pushed him down the hallway.

  Open doors poked holes in the bright white walls. Happy voices drifted outside. Folks in green and white bustled in and out of the rooms, clustered around a huge desk marked “Nurse’s station.”

  Doc Julia waved to two women sitting at the round desk. “Of course, you’ll be able to talk to her long before that. She seemed to like to talk.”

  Lee’s grip tightened on the arm rests. He’d have to put a stop to that.

  Chapter 35

  Sera yawned and stretched. Warmth cradled her right side; cold chilled her left. She opened her eyes and the world swirled in a kaleidoscope of colors. What the hell?

  Warm muscle stretched out over her. Straw pricked her back. She blinked at the dark clouds visible through the canyon walls.

  "Wrap your arms around me." Harlan’s breath stirred her loose hair.

  Tucking her face into the crook of his neck, she massaged his shoulder blades. Damn the man was tense. "What’s wrong?"

  "I think I made a big mistake trusting the Aces and Eights." His hand crept under her shirt. Callused fingers glided along her ribcage before tugging her stun-gun from her waist band. "Neither of us told Wayne where to go, yet here we are in the canyon leading to Sanctuary."

  Sanctuary?

  Sera muffled her squeak by pressing her mouth against his skin. The 'Viders were in the village. They'd seen them invade on the satellite feed. She massaged her way down his back, over his behind and reached forward. Dipping her fingers in his pants' pocket, she encountered a hard ridge. "You don't think he's planning on riding right in, and confronting them, do you?"

  "I think we didn't tell him about the damn 'Viders being in town." He rolled his weight a little off her. "I count four tracking us on the ridge for the better part of the half hour."

  She pulled out his weapon. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

  "Because I fell asleep, alright." Harlan raised up on his elbows. His face was in shadows when he stared down at her. "You can shoot me, if we survive this."

  "Whoo-wee." Wayne chortled, a hand thumped the side of the wagon. "Looks like we're gonna get some entertainment, boys."

  With one hand, she pulled Harlan’s head back into the shadow of the wagon. "We have to swap weapons. Each has been individually locked to our fingerprints. If you try to fire mine, you'll get a hefty charge."

  He stiffened. "Whose fucked up idea was that?"

  She jabbed his stun-gun into his gut. "Do you want your enemy using your weapon against you?"

  He grunted. "At this rate, I won't be able to use it against my enemies."

  "Hey, Harry, let the breeder ride you." Wayne leaned against the wagon. "Then we can look at her bouncing tits instead of your hairy ass."

  Harlan scraped his stubbled jaw over her cheek and chin then sat up, dragging her up with him. "You want a breeder, buy your own."

  Cool air washed down her chest.

  Wayne's oily gaze fixed on her.

  Sera glanced down. Her shirt was open to her waist. Dammit. Harlan had set her up. She'd shoot him twice for that. And not on the low setting either. Her fingers fumbled with buttons while the men looked on. She was going to need a month of baths to wipe away the feel of them staring at her.

  Harlan knelt in front of her, fondling her knees. "Is there anything more beautiful than a bed-worn woman in the morning?"

  "Yeah," Wayne leered "A naked woman. Don't matter what time o' day it is though."

  His five men laughed.

  It was a hideous sound. She sank back on her heels. She'd shoot Wayne first, then the man on the bench seat. She could drive a team. It hadn't been hard at all on the simulations.

  "In fact." Wayne tugged at his belt buckle. "We want your breeder to get naked right now."

  Harlan pulled his knife from his boot and crouched in the back of the wagon bed. "I don't think so."

  Two men on the left drew swords. Wayne and the two men bracketing him pulled knives from their scabbards. The driver didn’t move.

  Sera rose up so her skirts ballooned over the weapons. "Harlan? You ain't gonna let these men have me, are you?"

  She leaned close to him and switched the weapons while pretending to find her balance. Thumbing off the safety, she felt the weapons charge. Good to go. Of course, now they were taking on six men plus all the ‘Viders.

  That would put their odds at several hundred to one.

  She loved a challenge but that was a bit ridiculous.

  “Stay down, Peaches.” Harlan raked his hand through the straw until he encountered the stun-gun.

  “Harry here don’t have a choice.” Wayne didn’t come closer but waved his knife toward Harlan. “Now you gotta make us happy.”

  Sera eased her finger onto the trigger but kept the weapon hidden. As soon as Harlan gave the signal, she’d fire.

  “I really don’t like being called Harry,” Harlan growled.

  “Whoa. Whoa.” The driver sawed on the reins and the wagon lurched to a stop.

  Sera’s shoulder rammed into the back of the bench seat but she kept her footing.

  Before she could raise
her gun, Harlan pushed her down. “‘Viders. Hide your weapons. Act innocent.”

  Innocent? The ‘Viders didn’t care about innocent. They ate innocent for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Maybe even a midnight snack. She should be fighting.

  They should be fighting.

  Harlan rolled back, shielded her with his body.

  Sera looked up.

  Forty ‘Viders lined the low ridge. Knives, axes and scythes glinted in the sun. Black swirled over their shaved heads and their features were settled in hard lines.

  Her heart dropped near her knees. She swallowed hard and shoved the guns deep in the straw. Ho-ly shit. They didn’t stand a chance. But surrender? A flame kindled deep inside her. None of her ancestors had ever retreated.

  The horse jingled in his harness and stamped his hooves.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Sera watched ‘Viders materialize from the shadows——Hell was vomiting demons.

  Of course, her kin were never averse to advancing in the opposite direction.

  One of the ‘Viders grabbed the horse’s head, yanked it down and looked it in the eyes.

  The stallion peed a long arc of yellow.

  Christ Almighty. Sera fisted the back of Harlan’s shirt. She was so out of her element. “No wonder you offered to let me shoot you.”

  He didn’t think they were going to survive.

  Harlan winked at her. “Everything is going according to plan.”

  Her jaw dropped open. Getting captured was a plan? “Which one, double Z?”

  Wayne’s knife wavered. “Are you the mighty ‘Viders?”

  A thin ‘Vider stepped forward. Scars writhed over his forearms. “We are.”

  Good Lord, it was a woman. A female ‘Vider. Was this the leader Harlan had spoken of? Sera swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe she could take her. But, her self-defense training seemed so civilized compared to the ‘Viders.

  Harlan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close. “Act weak, meek. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t say a word. Stay alive for as long as you can.”

  She nodded. He was the expert. He’d been stealing from the ‘Viders for years. He’d... Oh Lord. She clutched his side. No, that couldn’t be right.

  Wayne flashed yellow teeth and pointed to the wagon. “I give you the raider leader, Harlan Westminster.”

  Shit. They’d been set up. She jerked her gun out of its hiding space and pressed it into his hand. There was one chance to get him out of this alive. One he probably wouldn’t appreciate.

  Harlan shook his head, pushed the gun away. “Raider? What are you talking about, Wayne?”

  “He isn’t a raider.” Sera bit her lip. There wasn’t time to tell him her plan. She’d have to wing it. “You’re just jealous, Wayne, because I chose Harry over you.”

  From her peripheral vision, she watched the ‘Viders climb down the ridge.

  “The bitch is mine.” Wayne’s horse cantered forward.

  A ‘Vider stumbled into his path and the horse shied away.

  “Enough.” The woman ‘Vider jerked her head and the men rushed forward. “Take them all.”

  Sera fired the stun-gun.

  Harlan’s body arched. Blue light danced over his white teeth. Then he collapsed, face first in the straw.

  She fell back into the wagon. Splinters bit into her palm as she pushed the weapon into its hiding spot.

  “Hey, the mayor sent us!” Wayne shouted.

  A war cry split the air, and the hair on her nape stood at attention, tried to march off her body. Good Lord, it was worse up close and personal than on the video. She flung herself across Harlan’s body and hung onto his shoulders.

  The wagon dipped. The woman ‘Vider leapt onto the bench seat and pressed her axe against the driver’s throat. “Drive.”

  The wagon rolled slowly forward.

  ‘Viders fell into step around her. Behind them, Wayne and his men were yanked from their horses. With a swat to their backsides, the 'Viders sent the animals running. Then the bald barbarians punched and pummeled Wayne and his men until they fell, then they were kicked. Bone crunched. Cries split the air.

  Sera covered her ears. Meek and mild. She had to find a way to stay alive.

  After a while, the ‘Viders herded Wayne and his men into a staggering clump and drove them forward at the point of spears, swords and knives.

  And God willing, she’d keep Harlan alive, too.

  All she needed was a miracle.

  Chapter 36

  Harlan inhaled dust and hay. Coughing, he pushed against the wagon bed, trying to rise. His entire body throbbed in protest. Shaking his head, he tried to clear it of the fog wrapping his thoughts. He'd felt like this once before, when he'd spent time with the Mayor of Abaddon.

  A warm hand cupped his elbow, eased his body into that torturous position known as sitting. Something cold touched his lips.

  "Drink this. It'll help you recover."

  Sera.

  "You shot me." Swallowing the water, he blinked his vision into focus, then wished he hadn't.

  Severed heads stared, mounted on poles. Men and women, eight in total. Their mouths remained open in silent screams. Many had cuts and broken teeth. The rest had probably been invited for dinner——as the entree.

  "Only for your own good." Sera eased the canteen away from his lips, swiped a water droplet off his chin.

  He slanted her a glance. Bits of straw clung to her hair, but other than that she appeared unharmed. Then again, the 'Viders rarely harmed the tributes until they had them under control. "How is knocking me out of the fight a good thing?"

  The last time he'd been shocked, he'd needed months to recover. With this lot he didn't have months. He had minutes. Now he wouldn't be at his best, and they'd probably kill him.

  And her.

  He should have left without her. She didn't belong in this world.

  Thanks to him, she'd probably die in it.

  "The alternative isn't pretty." Pressing a ration bar into his hand, Sera jerked her head behind them.

  Six 'Viders walked around the wagon. They pounded on their arm guards with the flat of their weapons in time to their steps. A dozen guarded Wayne and his men. They shambled along in a beating-induced haze, worsened by the occasional smacking by their escorts.

  The hair on Harlan's neck rose. No doubt about it, they were under the 'Viders' control, yet here he and Sera sat in the lap of hay luxury. What was going on?

  He ate the bar by route——raise, bite, chew, swallow. Tasting wasn't necessary. Too bad, it might be his last meal. Buildings, with bowed beams, cracked foundations and peeled paint, crowded the road.

  The sun bleached a pile of bones thrown into an empty field. Human skulls, still strapped with flesh, but stripped of hair, stared back at them. Flies buzzed around an open sewer draining into the field. The wagon trundled past a clock tower missing its hands.

  Barbed wire roped off the center square. Several guards stood around, holding back the prisoners.

  Their footprints mashed the green grass. Many people sat in clumps, unseeing eyes staring out at the town. A four-foot wide strip of space divided the prisoners——single men on one side and families on the other.

  Harlan scanned the men's faces. Where they planning to make a break for it, fight the 'Viders? Nah, they faced their former friends and neighbors. The family men, women and children now had to fight the single men and the 'Viders to survive.

  "I think they're saving you for something special." She swallowed hard, picked at the edges of her bar. "I thought by saying you fainted, they would think you're too chicken to be a raider."

  "Thanks." Maybe. Being chicken didn't exactly sit well with him. Still, she'd tried to save him. That counted for something. Not many had stuck their necks out for him after his village had fallen.

  Even his old friends, the Aces and Eights, had betrayed him. Of course, she was a naive do-gooder whose good intentions weren't practical in the Outlands.

  H
e should have done a better job protecting her.

  Wrapping her uneaten bar, she returned it to her pack. "Is it usual for the 'Viders to keep the bearers of tributes?"

  Licking the crumbs off the bar's wrapper, Harlan cast his memories back. Tributes exchanged, each had ridden separate direction. "Never have before."

  "So the status quo has changed."

  "And I don't think we're going to benefit from it." Harlan crushed the wrapper in his fist. Since he'd never heard of anyone escaping the 'Viders, he had to find a way to keep her alive. His sister was the best option, she'd stayed alive ten years. She must know how to work the system. She'd have to teach Sera.

  Of course, the woman was so stubborn, she'd probably refuse to learn. "Listen, Sera..."

  She set her finger over his lips and jerked her head to the 'Vider on the seat. "I know what you were going to say and I don't want to hear it."

  Grabbing Sera's wrist, he pulled her finger away from his lips and held it against his chest. The wagon was slowing. He didn't have much time. "I need you to listen to me."

  Sera shook her head. "Save your breath."

  The wagon stopped. The tributes pressed against the barbed wire, craning their necks to get a better look. Free prisoners and 'Viders crowded the wagon.

  "Stubborn idiot." Harlan shoved Sera behind him, away from the pawing of the 'Viders. "Don't you know I'm trying to save your life?"

  "Right back at you." She took hold of her hair and pulled it from grabbing hands. Then she hissed.

  From the corner of his eye, he saw her head pulled back.

  The 'Vider on the seat set her knife against Sera's jugular. "Make jerky out of the Mayor's raiders."

  Harlan flinched at the roar. Bloodthirsty lot.

  Sera grabbed his shirt, held on tight.

  Still cheering, 'Viders around the camp pounded their armor with their weapons. The cannibals grabbed and yanked on Wayne and his men, stripping them of their possessions, until naked. When the Aces and Eights resisted, they were pummeled with the butts of weapons until unconscious and dragged.