Wolfen

by Alianne Donnelly

  “Why do I have a feeling that’s not as safe as it sounds?” she muttered.

  “Because it isn’t,” Aiden replied in kind.

  “Not for the likes if you, anyway,” Alexis added with a sneer. “And I’ll be getting that cuff, chica, just as soon as I get my machete.”

  First rule of the jungle: Never show fear to a larger predator. It’ll make you prey. Sinna looked Alexis dead in the eye. “Won’t it hurt, pulling it out of your ass?”

  Aiden grinned in approval. “Nice!”

  The moment Sinna’s feet touched pavement, her brain went into observation mode. This was now a hostage situation, which tuned her mind into a lot of police jargon and murder mystery books. She paid closer attention to who was around her—ten men and five women, excluding those who’d stayed behind to loot the rest of the mule. A well-organized, trained and armed group, but not military. Someone had taught them to survive, which meant they were part of a much bigger community somewhere around here.

  The leader, Frankie, had a tight hold on his people, but he wasn’t top dog. A “boss” somewhere in Haven apparently had ways to ensure his rules were followed. Sinna was sure of this because, although Igme kept watching her, his confidence had waned. He was sullen and resentful of the higher order that dictated what he could take and when.

  They followed the road back to the bridge, and Sinna took note of every detail. The basin used to hold a much bigger river—either the area was in the middle of a drought, or the water had been diverted. The road itself was well maintained, though who knew how, and now that she was more aware, Sinna saw warning signs she’d missed before. The way the field of tree stumps was cut at a precise height, the deep drag marks where wood had been harvested, the hillocks which turned out to be cleverly disguised hiding places for sentries and guards.

  Aiden and Bryce had taken one look and they’d known something was off. A couple of weeks ago, Sinna might have, too, but she hadn’t noticed a thing when it counted. Stupid. Just because converts can’t hurt you, doesn’t mean other things won’t! Wake the hell up!

  There wasn’t a man-made structure in sight anywhere on the horizon at first, but when it became visible, a rusty uneven enclosure the size of a small town, Sinna looked back to judge the distance. “Ten miles west,” she whispered so she would remember.

  Aiden cast her a glance, but said nothing.

  Bryce was starting to come to, shaking himself off, and the first thing he did was look up at Sinna with a wild, alarmed expression. She sent him a half smile in assurance, and it seemed to calm him a little, but not enough. He was still chained, and even though the humans made him walk on his own, he couldn’t move fast enough to catch up to her and Aiden. One hard yank would likely be enough to break those chains, but for some reason, that had nothing to do with them being outnumbered or outgunned, he was holding himself back.

  He did, however, meet eyes with Aiden and give him a grim nod, which his brother returned.

  She’d have loved to know what that was about, but when she raised an eyebrow at Aiden for an explanation, he pretended she didn’t exist.

  It was a long walk to the colony, and the closer they got to it, the more Sinna realized its sheer size and scope. Somebody had cleared the land for miles in every direction; whoever was on guard would see an enemy coming from a very long way off. The thirty-foot-high walls looked to be nothing more than a lot of rusty corrugated sheet metal patched together, but it had to be structurally strong enough to support a ten-foot-tall metal gate and four watch towers. In a really messed up way, Sinna supposed this was the New Era equivalent of a medieval castle.

  The last of the looters who’d gone ahead of them passed through the gate, which closed with a deep, tired groan, leaving the brothers, Sinna, and their fifteen guards out in the cold.

  “Ho!” a watchman called from the west tower.

  “Celery!” Frankie bellowed back.

  “Are the leaves turning already?”

  “Winter will be here before you know it.”

  A pause. “Wait here, I have to report this.”

  “Take your time,” Frankie retorted, unamused.

  They waited.

  Sinna looked at Aiden, and then Bryce. They weren’t talking, or even looking at each other, or her. She wanted to stomp her feet in frustration. They had to have some sort of plan, right? Of course they had a plan. They’d know better than she what they were getting into, and as soon as it was safe, they’d tell her what the plan was. She hoped.

  Sinna hated being left in the dark. “Aiden,” she whispered, knowing he would hear.

  “Remember when I told you animals aren’t the only ones with claws anymore?” he murmured back.

  “Yeah?”

  With a slow, deliberate nod, he indicated the huge gate, and a cold shiver ran up her spine.

  “Shit,” she said.

  “Just keep calm, little bit. You’ll be fine.” No jokes, no wicked quirks of his lip; this was a side of Aiden she hadn’t seen before. When the gate groaned open again, he didn’t just walk in, he prowled. His face was hard, eyes sharp, hands loose at his sides, and with every move, every step, every look, he stood out among this ragged community like a panther on the hunt.

  “Move,” Alexis snapped, shoving her forward.

  Sinna swallowed hard and put one foot in front of the other. The moment she stepped into the shadow of the gate, a cold fist closed around her heart. The wall was a hollow structure several feet thick, held up on each side by a metal skeleton. Between, gear wheels and cranks enabled the gate to move, operated by miserable looking people, pasty pale and dressed in rags, as if they’d been sent there as a form of punishment.

  But that was far from the worst this place had to offer.

  Once the gate closed, Sinna tried to shake off her apprehension and look around. The inner side of the wall was curved like a ship’s bulwark, flowing down into a courtyard that ran the perimeter around another shorter wall made of concrete slabs. Several guards walked around with whips strapped to their belts, keeping watch over…

  Oh, sweet God.

  Sinna fought down a wave of nausea.

  Women. Dozens of women and girls, collared and chained to the concrete wall, nearly naked with scraps covering their breasts and privates, and so thin, their cheeks were hollow and their ribs stood out in stark relief. Most of them seemed oblivious to everything happening around them, eyes glazed over or closed completely. Those who saw them shied away, huddling and ducking their heads as if they expected to be beaten. Their fears were not unfounded, as evidenced by their bruises and lash marks.

  But the one by the inner gate really broke Sinna’s heart. As soon as it opened, creating a cross breeze, her chin lifted and she breathed in deeply, as if she’d caught a scent from memory. Then her reddened eyes opened and she picked Sinna and the brothers out of the crowd in an instant. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened on a silent cry, and she reached out to them, desperate for help, salvation—anything.

  Aiden walked right past her without sparing her a glance, but his steps were wooden, his expression set. Sinna slowed, unable to take her eyes off of the woman. She reached out to her, let the woman grasp her hand with both of hers. The woman dragged her down and her mouth worked soundlessly.

  Sinna fought back tears when she saw someone had cut out her tongue. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  The woman wearing silver chains that cut into her delicate skin moaned a harsh sound from long-dormant vocal cords. “Ouu.”

  Sinna frowned. “What?”

  The woman squeezed her hand so tightly, Sinna’s knuckles scraped together. “Ouu! Ouu awaa!”

  The whip cracked in front of Sinna’s face, making her flinch back, and the woman let go, feeble, bony arms shielding her head and neck. “Ouuuu!” she wailed.

  Alexis caught Sinna by her hair and yanked hard. “Keep moving!”

  Sinna heard a vicious snarl, a metallic snap, and she staggered si
deways as Alexis abruptly released her. The Latina’s scream was cut short by a sickening crunch of bone. When Sinna regained her balance and looked down, Alexis’ body lay on the ground, head turned two hundred degrees to look over the wrong shoulder.

  The guards descended on Bryce with a fury of cracking whips and flying projectiles. Sinna dropped to a crouch and covered her head. The guards who’d gone past the concrete wall, now poured back out to subdue Bryce, and he was letting them, taking vicious beatings without throwing a single punch in return.

  From the corner of her eye, Sinna saw a blur of pale and chanced a look. Aiden had crouched down in front of the whipped woman and gently cupped her face. She was weeping, looking up into his eyes as if he were an angel flown down from heaven just for her. Whatever he told her made her nod. Then Aiden shoved to his feet, walked tall over to Sinna, and pulled her to her feet. “We do not separate,” he said at her ear. “You hear? You stay with us, no matter what. Even if you think you can make it out on your own.”

  “I don’t,” she said, painfully aware of how much she could not make it out on her own.

  Aiden squeezed her shoulders before several guards wrenched them apart. “Chin up, little bit. We’re going to walk out of this. Wait and see.”

  12: Sinna

  With so many gunmen around them, Sinna didn’t get an opportunity to study the inside, and what she saw told her little. Haven looked like a small town, with people just going about their business or following the action, as if this sort of thing rarely happened around here. Then her handlers shoved her head down and pushed her through a doorway into a passage slanting lower.

  They were going underground.

  Sinna broke into a cold sweat, heart racing and feet tripping over each other. The deeper they went, the darker it got, and when the air turned cold and wet, and sounds became muffled, she couldn’t bite back a broken sob. Her knees weakened.

  I can’t do this.

  The black maw stretched into eternity before her, reaching out to swallow her whole, and she knew, as surely as her own name, that if she took one more step, she would never come back out again. Her throat closed up, and she choked on a plea, shaking her head. Her legs weren’t working, but her handlers had picked her up enough to drag her forward.

  Then something snapped.

  Sinna yanked free and shoved people aside to run back up. There were too many. At least three dozen stood between her and the way out; a human wall she couldn’t break through, no matter how hard she threw her weight against them, and she panicked. Wild screams echoed through the passageway. Someone shouted her name. Hands grabbed hold of her. She shook them off, but more clamped on, shackling her arms, her legs, squeezing her throat, pulling her hair. She couldn’t break free; the darkness had grown tentacles to drag her into its depths.

  Sinna thrashed, snapping her teeth, trying with every ounce of her strength to cause damage. It was all useless. Hot tears burned down her cheeks as a voice whispered broken, pleading litanies in her head.

  She prayed.

  The darkness laughed.

  When they dumped her on the ground, Sinna curled up in a tight ball, eyes squeezed shut, ears covered. She never heard the door slam shut. They left her completely alone in a pitch-black room, where the walls swallowed her voice and never gave it back. And then the silence grew fangs that tore into her, and she passed out.

  ~

  “…wake up. Wake up, Sinna!”

  The sound of her name dragged her out of nothingness.

  See the light, your guiding star. The dark is where the monsters are.

  She clawed her way back to consciousness, following that echoing voice.

  “…Sinna, can you hear me?”

  The dark is where the monsters are.

  “Goddamn it, girl, talk to me.”

  Sinna flinched at the gong of fists striking metal. The dark is where the monsters are. She was awake and it was still dark, and they were all around her; hissing, drooling creatures with poisoned claws.

  “Sinna…” A different voice. Harder. Rougher. It scraped across her mind like sandpaper.

  Her arms were cramped around her up-drawn knees, she’d lost feeling in her hands and feet, and her face hurt from crying. She didn’t want to open her eyes, terrified she’d still see absolutely nothing.

  But the voice persisted. “Are you hurt?”

  See the light, your guiding star.

  Sinna opened her eyes, and wailed her despair. There was no light—none!

  A harsh string of curses rose up, then the voice softened. “Can you stand up? Reach the door?”

  Door?

  “There’s a keyhole. You can see through it into the hall. Can you reach it?”

  “Come on, little bit, we’re right here. You’re not alone.”

  There were others?

  A surge of hope made her scramble up. She felt along the floor, disoriented in the darkness, until she reached a wall. She followed it three small half-steps to a corner, and then another one. It was like tracing the inside of a coffin. Then her hand moved from moist earth and stone to cold metal. She found the hinges, the rivets where it held together, and—there! Sinna sank to her knees in front of the keyhole. There was her light—several torches mounted on the walls, barely enough to illuminate the passage, but she saw it so clearly, her panic began to ease. “Aiden?” Her voice was reedy, unsure.

  A sigh. “We’re here.” He knocked on his door, right across from hers.

  Another knock, one door down. That had to be Bryce.

  “Bryce! Are you okay?” They’d beaten him so badly, she couldn’t imagine how he was still alive.

  “I’m fine.” There was pain in his voice. “Just a couple broken bones. Maybe a concussion. Give me a minute and I’ll be right as rain. How are you doing?”

  Sinna was still shaking too much to make her voice believable. “Peachy keen.”

  “We’re gonna get out of here,” Aiden said. “You believe that, right?”

  “Sure. Yeah.” Of course they’d get out of here. Maybe not alive, and they probably wouldn’t get far, but sooner or later, someone would drag their rotting corpses out to burn. “Just, um, keep talking to me, okay?” She couldn’t stand darkness and silence.

  “These people are settled,” Aiden said. “They’ve got this place tricked out to survive an apocalypse. I mean, you know. Another one.”

  “You got the layout?” Bryce asked with a groan, and Sinna flinched at the sickening sound of a joint popping into alignment.

  “I thought I did. Up top, it’s pretty straightforward. Two walls, defensive and offensive lines, and dwellings inside. But with these tunnels, I don’t know. They could be all over. Probably an emergency exit strategy, which means they might lead out somewhere far from here.”

  “Pass,” Bryce said, grunting through a wet crack, like he’d just shoved an exposed bone back into place.

  “Yeah. Agreed.”

  That made no sense. “What are you talking about? That could be our way out of here!” As much as she wanted out of these catacombs—and she did, desperately—she would trek through them for days if it meant getting away. Every time she closed her eyes she saw the women outside that concrete wall. She could end up being one of them.

  The thought made Sinna scratch at the ground as if she could dig her way out by sheer force of will.

  “Yeah,” Aiden said, “or it could spit us out in the middle of Convertlandia, miles away from the mule and all of our supplies. Goddamn it, I want my bling back!”

  “Will you let it go?” Bryce growled.

  “You let it go. I feel naked, okay? It’s unsettling.”

  It helped to focus on something. If she was thinking through their escape, she wasn’t paying attention to the metric tons of dirt overhead that could cave in on her, or the walls that seemed to creep closer each time she remembered how small the room was. “Keep talking,” Sinna prompted. “If not the tunnels, then how do we get out?”

 
“There’s one building bigger than the others,” Aiden begrudged. “I’m thinking that’s where the boss will be, along with any ammo and supplies. Theoretically, it could be elsewhere, like down in these tunnels. But I doubt it.”

  “Why?”

  “Too much fire power around that place. They’re guarding something. Which means it’ll be valuable enough to take. Our stuff got picked over. Unless we wanna go hunting down each individual fuck who took something, we gotta find a new stash. One hit, take what we can, and make a run for it.”

  “The mule is pinned,” she pointed out.

  “We get it unpinned,” Aiden returned easily. “It’s doable.”

  “And if they catch up to us?”

  “Then we’ll have no choice but to unleash the Brycen.” His voice dropped an octave. “I’m sorry, bro.”

  “Don’t be,” Bryce said. “Just get Sinna to safety.”

  “What do I do?” she asked.

  The brothers shushed her. Footsteps were coming down the corridor. Seven armed men spread out as an eighth opened Aiden’s cell. They aimed at his head—a guaranteed kill shot—to make sure he complied. Someone outfitted him with a demonic-looking spiked collar, spikes pointing in, and secured his hands behind his back with rope and metal cuffs.

  Four of them led him out before the rest outfitted Bryce in the same way. Sinna bit her lip at the sight of him—covered in dirt and dried blood, favoring his left side and limping. For all of his superhealing abilities, he still hadn’t mended. The guards tried to force him out after Aiden, but Bryce rooted his feet, staring hard at Sinna’s door. The one with the keys jerked on Bryce’s collar, forcing the spikes into his skin, but Bryce showed no reaction, even as blood trickled down his neck.

  He refused to take a single step, and he was too big for them to physically force him.

  Four had taken Aiden, four were left to handle Bryce. None of the guards even looked at Sinna’s door, and it dawned on her: Bryce wouldn’t go, because he didn’t want to leave her down here alone.