But they didn’t know what I knew.
What my family knew.
Diego had as much territory as he wanted. Yes, he’d fought hard for northern Mexico and that hard work had paid off in a big way.
But Diego wasn’t interested in expanding his empire. He was content to control the small portion of the world he already had.
Not that we would tell anyone that. We’d guard his secret. And use it whenever it benefited us.
Diego jumped down from the boulder he’d used as a platform and smiled at us. Harrison and King wandered over with him and his men. I assumed the rest of my family had stayed back to guard the children.
He walked over to Miller and me, assessing us with dark, shrewd eyes. “You are not a child anymore,” he declared as if I’d been waiting for his verdict.
“I know.”
His eyes flashed with humor. “You take after her, don’t you? You have her fire.”
“Who?”
“The Reagan.” He pronounced Reagan with two long ees. “Si, she is like this. She is a… how do you say… fireball.”
I thought he might have meant firecracker, but I didn’t correct him. Fireball worked too when it came to Reagan.
He took another step toward me, but his eyes shifted to Miller. “And you have grown too, I see. You look like your father.”
I dropped my blade and wrapped my hand around Miller’s forearm without thinking. Miller surprised me by not moving. At the mention of Matthias, I had expected Miller to murder Diego, which would have served nobody’s purpose.
Instead, Miller’s muscles flexed and rippled beneath my hand, but he remained still and silent.
Diego looked him over as if weighing Miller’s worth. I wanted to snap at Diego. I wanted to tell him every good and worthy thing about Miller. But I held silent.
We had just entered the lair of a beast. And maybe we were safe here. Maybe we’d conned the beast into believing we had mutual interests and common enemies, but he was still a beast. He could still kill. He could still maim.
He could feed us to his Zombie army without any guilt or remorse.
And we needed this beast to get us through the rest of Mexico.
Diego’s gaze darkened and his smug grin turned into a dangerous frown. “Do you want my land too?” He leaned into Miller, threatening Miller’s tentative hold on his patience. “Do you want to take what’s mine? Do you want my world?”
“What do you want?” Miller countered, dropping his voice low so my brothers couldn’t hear him. “Do you want my land? The world that’s rightfully mine?”
Diego rocked back on his heels and something like surprise lifted his eyebrows. “Rightfully yours?”
The corner of Miller’s lips twitched. “When my father dies, I’m his rightful heir. The only one that has any claim on that land.”
Breath left my lungs in a whoosh of surprise. My fingernails dug into Miller’s forearm and I knew he felt my reaction.
But he didn’t look at me. I could only see his profile and I was puzzled by it. Was he just acting tough in front of Diego?
Or did he really think of himself as Matthias’s heir?
“You have a sister,” Diego countered.
“And she’s smart enough to know not to step between me and something I want.”
Diego’s gaze flicked back to mine. “You align yourself with him? Maybe you are not so much like your Reagan after all.”
I started to argue or confess the truth or… or say something, but Adela’s breathless call of “Diego,” pulled all of his attention to the other side of the clearing.
He spun around and stilled. He didn’t move to her or say a word. He simply tilted his chin and she ran to him. She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his neck with a happy sob. His arms wrapped around her like a steel band and he lifted her off the ground, spinning her in a wide circle.
I jumped back before she could kick me and reluctantly let go of Miller’s arm. I missed the contact. I missed touching him. But more than that I was afraid after what he just said, he would run away and I would never see him again.
Or if I did, he would be sitting at Matthias’s right hand.
I shook my head, violently removing the vision.
Besides, Miller didn’t run.
I should have known that wasn’t his style.
He took my hand and I let him. He walked slowly out of the way, moving us closer to King and Harrison. “You know me,” he said in a hard voice. He didn’t allow room for doubt or argument. His voice was steel with conviction and truth. He shot me a quick glance before turning a watchful eye back to Diego’s men. “You know the truth about me.”
Anger and impetuousness got the better of me and I hissed, “Are you saying, you’re not going back to the Colony so you can inherit your father’s dictatorship?”
“What are you guys talking about?” King asked. Joss walked next to him as they moved toward us.
Miller didn’t answer. It seemed he was leaving the truth up to me. He said I knew him. I should know the truth about him.
But the real truth was I didn’t know him well enough to decide. He’d kept himself from me over the years. What was I supposed to believe about him?
Part of me knew he hated his father as much as I did, if not more. He wanted to take Matthias’s kingdom and burn it to the ground. He wanted to erase whatever legacy Matthias had managed to build.
He did not want to sit on Matthias’s throne and become his legacy.
He didn’t.
I refused to even entertain the idea.
Except…
I shifted uneasily and said, “What’s with them?” I nodded to Diego and Adela. Diego had stopped spinning and now cradled Adela’s face in his hand. They leaned into each other, talking fast and sweetly in Spanish.
“I don’t know,” King answered. “I thought we rescued Adela from Diego.”
“Who’s Diego?” Joss asked. “And what were those things? Feeders? Their eyes were clear.”
“Cannibals,” King spit out. “Filthy animals.”
Miller smiled at him. “At least they didn’t try to roast you over an open spit this time.”
King shivered and jammed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t remind me.”
Joss’s jaw dropped open. “That happened? They tried to eat you?”
“They almost succeeded,” he growled. “And Harrison. We’ve lived very strange lives.”
Joss laughed. “No kidding.”
“And Diego’s the guy over there. The one with all the muscle. He’s our ally. Kind of.” King retrieved a hand and wrapped it around Joss’s shoulders. She didn’t look quite as comfortable as my brother, but I was giving her some time to adjust to my family before I judged her.
We were a lot to take in.
Diego did, in fact, have a lot of muscle with him. Armed men surrounded the clearing and spread out toward our camp. They carried big blades, machetes, spears and even some guns- although not many. These fierce men with angry faces and muscled bodies were ready to kill anything that looked at them wrong.
My feet were suddenly very interesting.
“We should burn those bodies,” King added after our tense silence stretched on.
Miller nudged me with his elbow, “We took out more of them than I thought we did.”
“If I never see a cannibal again, it will be too soon.”
King laughed. “Their days are numbered.”
“What does that mean?” I hoped King wasn’t planning another revenge campaign. I could understand the Rat King. That had made sense to me. But if he decided to take out the entire nest of cannibals, I was going to make Hendrix step in and tie him up.
At one time Diego had actual jail cells. Maybe we could throw King and his exaggerated sense of justice in one of those until it was time to move on.
“They have a disease,” King explained. “I can’t remember the name of it. But if you eat too much human meat you get a brain disease. I
t’s fatal.”
“How do you know that?” I relaxed knowing he wasn’t planning some elaborate attack he’d probably not survive.
King was… well, King was the king of trivia in our family. He knew all kinds of random facts from before the infection. He often impressed the scientists from the randomness stored in his brain. Haley was just as bad, but we were nicer to her about it.
“I read it once,” King said. “I used to like Silence of the Lambs. I was strangely fascinated with cannibals for like two months.”
“What’s Silence of the Lambs?”
Joss pointed at the dead men bleeding out on the desert ground. “That,” she said simply. “That’s Silence of the Lambs.”
I didn’t have time to question them further because Reagan rushed into the clearing. Hendrix followed after her with Vaughan and Jagger tucked close.
“Well, as I live and breathe,” she announced. “Diego the Warlord. Fancy meeting you here.”
Diego stepped back from Adela and grinned at Reagan. For the second time in a matter of minutes, a woman launched herself into his arms and he caught her with a big hug.
“The Reagan!” he laughed.
She pulled back and looked up at him. “How are you, my slaving, terrorizing, warmongering amigo?”
“You have not changed,” he laughed at her. He nodded toward her kids. “Except maybe for the bambinos.”
“You haven’t changed either,” she told him. “But no bambinos for you?”
Diego’s eyes notably moved to Adela. “Not yet.”
Adela blushed and looked away. Harrison turned around and left. King leaned in and said, “This is like a telenovela. I need popcorn.”
I didn’t know what a telenovela was either. Apparently, on this side of Mexico, I needed someone to translate for me.
Miller sensed my frustration and leaned in. “Easy, Killer.”
I shot him a glare over my shoulder. I had just shared this amazing moment with him. I thought we made all this progress and things would be different between us. Then he went ahead and said what he did to Diego and now I didn’t know what to think about him. Or his plans. Or the darkness he claimed lived inside him.
Months ago, I thought he was being melodramatic.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
And that was the most frustrating thing of all. I thought I could read Miller… anticipate his thoughts and actions. But he was as much a mystery to me as the world before it ended. I could no longer decipher him than I could a telenovela or Silence of the Lambs. I might have a vague idea of what those things were, but I didn’t have an exact picture. I could guess, but I wouldn’t be exactly right.
I could hope I knew what they were.
But I couldn’t be certain.
Hendrix stepped forward with his hand extended to Diego. “Diego.”
“Hendrix,” Diego smiled. “You need my help again.”
Hendrix’s smile widened. “And you need ours.”
Diego’s eyebrows scrunched together over his long nose. “You mean the American spies.”
Hendrix nodded. “The threat is real, then?”
“We find them along the border,” Diego answered. “Of course, there are no clear borders anymore. But they come too close to my territories. My Dead can smell them and they grow restless in their pens.”
Reagan disentangled herself from Diego and crossed her arms over her chest with a serious pose. “How many have you seen?”
“We’ve buried six over the last nine months,” Diego noted. “But that doesn’t mean there haven’t been more. We see them. We kill them. If we don’t see them, we can’t kill them.”
“Are they armed?” Reagan asked.
Diego gave her a look. “Of course they’re armed. Who isn’t armed in this world? But they are… they are usually alone. Or with one or two others. No armies, if that is what you are asking.”
“No armies, yet,” Hendrix murmured.
Goose bumps popped up all over my arms, despite the warm air. Hank, the man that had betrayed my family in Bogotá, had been right all those months ago. Matthias had set his sights on Mexico. Instead of trying to conquer the Rockies and head West or go east to the Zombie-ravaged coast, he planned to fight Diego.
I wondered if it was a true quest for more land and power or if it was a pissing competition between the two world powers. At least on this side of the world.
“You are going to help me with this?” Diego asked, a hint of a disbelieving smile playing over his lips.
Reagan’s eyes flashed with the challenge. “We’re going to save you from this.”
Diego’s head tipped back and he let out a bellowing laugh. When he finally settled down and looked at her again, his expression was filled with affection. “I have missed you, Reagan. More than I should have.”
Reagan smiled at him too. “It pains me to admit this, but I think I missed you too.”
Joss leaned forward and whispered to King, “I feel like your family might actually be a cult.”
Miller put his hands on my shoulders and massaged as if that was the most natural reaction ever. To Joss, he said, “Wait until you meet my family.”
“Gather your people,” Diego announced to Hendrix. “I shall show you my kingdom.”
It sounded arrogant and unbelievably ridiculous, but Diego hadn’t been lying. We collected the scientists and the Colombians and the rest of my family and Diego led us to his transportation. More of Diego’s men waited by four big trucks and we piled in the back, squishing together while Diego’s men found footholds around the outside of the trucks and held on tight.
When the trucks were started, I said a silent prayer that we wouldn’t explode right there on the spot. I hadn’t ridden in an actual vehicle for a very long time. Not since we barely rolled into Bogotá a decade ago. We’d used motorcycles over the years, but those engines purred compared to the booming, vrooming growls of these beasts.
The trucks lurched into movement. Not expecting the jerking movement, I let out an embarrassing squeak. I grabbed Harrison’s shoulder since he sat right next to me, but it was Miller’s arm that wrapped around my waist and pulled me next to his body, holding me in place.
I tried to remember that I was mad at him. And scared of him. And nervous for him.
But I couldn’t deny the reaction of my body to his strong hold or the way his arm seemed to fit around me so perfectly.
Diego took us on a tour of his territories. We rode in the trucks, bouncing and bobbing, for more than an hour while he shouted over the roar of the engines, explaining every building and rock in existence.
When the sun finally set and darkness descended, headlights popped on, guiding the way back to Diego’s palace. We drove through the main town first, a single strip of highway with buildings on either side. Plenty of people milled about, coming and going from buildings lit with candles and pit fires.
I was impressed by the peace and the general sense of safety as we waved at Diego’s people. I thought what we did in Bogotá had been impressive, but it was nothing like this.
We continued on the highway after we left the city. After a while we passed outdoor cages, made from heavy steel. The landscape remained black as ink, but the moon glinted off the metal bars, revealing the creatures trapped inside. The Feeder armies dangled their rotting limbs through the small squares, clawing at the air as if they could reach us from here. Their heads tipped back and inhuman screams screeched at the stars overhead.
The Colombians and scientists stared with open mouths. Even though we’d warned them of the Zombie armies, this was their first time seeing the captured hordes in person. For my family and me the novelty had worn off. Especially after we had spent significant time in identical prisons. But for those seeing it for the first time, it was understandably horrifying, while also being impressive.
I remembered those cages well. I could picture them all over the landscape of Mexico. At one time the slavers would capture humans in order to keep their
hordes happy. I had almost been a meal too many times. I couldn’t help but physically react to seeing them now.
Did Diego keep humans as slaves too? Did he lock them up and leave them to the elements so they would be weak and helpless when the hordes were hungry?
His enemies had.
How else did he keep them obedient and loyal?
Finally we pulled up to a sprawling estate and my mind flooded with unwanted memories. For the second time today I was thrown back into the time of my life when I was fragile and too little to do anything worthwhile. I pictured my time here, held prisoner by a different dictator, and wanted to crawl out of the truck and take off running.
I couldn’t go back in there.
I couldn’t face the ghosts that still haunted me.
“What’s wrong?” Miller asked immediately.
“I didn’t… He lives… I didn’t think I would ever have to see this place again.”
Miller turned around and assessed the sprawling mansion with new eyes. It was too dark to make out the grounds or how expansive the estate was, but I had it memorized. Even to this day. “Is this where we rescued you from?”
“Yes.” My voice was a strangled gasp.
Harrison leaned forward, noticing my panic. “What’s wrong, Page?”
“Do you recognize this place?” Miller asked him.
He squinted through the darkness, taking in the estate again. “This is where they held you? What was that guy’s name?”
“Arturo.” My fingers dug into Miller’s arm, still wrapped around my waist. “His name was Arturo.”
Miller and Harrison fell silent, neither of them knowing what to say. Trauma was part of our lives. It wasn’t something any of us could escape. And it wasn’t like we could ask Diego to move his operation somewhere else while we crashed his kingdom.
I needed to get my shit together.
And fast.
It was bad enough they knew this place unnerved me. I didn’t want them asking deeper questions.
I wouldn’t answer them even if they asked.
The trucks pulled up in front of the house and the drivers killed the engines. The sudden silence should have soothed my nerves, but it had the opposite effect. Miller’s arm dropped from my waist and I focused on my breathing to keep from panicking.
Love and Decay Page 3