Fight (Book Three, the Hunted)

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Fight (Book Three, the Hunted) Page 7

by Patti Larsen


  Reid slaps it lightly across the face. The laugh turns to a snarl of rage.

  “Don’t like that, huh?” Reid smiles at it, still avoiding the eyes. “Too bad. Answer the question.”

  “The blonde girl is especially succulent.” It speaks in a whisper, for Reid’s ears. “She is so pale, like moonlight. I shall savor her to the last bite.”

  Reid’s anger rushes around, screams at him to act, to kill this thing, but he holds it off by sheer will, knowing it is only taunting him.

  “What is all of this about?” Reid waves around at the woods, knowing the hunter will understand the gesture. “What’s the point?”

  “I will save the youngest ones for last,” the creature says. “Let them watch their protectors die until their hope is gone then drive them forth to run and run until they fall. And then I will take them at my leisure and the joy of my brothers and sisters and we will feast well.” It licks its lips again, grotesque and disgusting.

  Reid flinches, not from that act though it sickens him, but from the realization that some of the hunters are female. Though it makes perfect sense to him when he hears it, that not all of them are male, the idea that they are a whole race is somehow more horrible than ever.

  Marcus is on top of the hunter before Reid realizes the guy has moved, fist driving into the thing’s face.

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Kieran and Milo dive for Marcus, pulling him off while he continues to shout, “Shut up!”

  Reid shoves the gag back into the hunter’s mouth, refusing to look at the red smears left behind on its white teeth, knowing he won’t get any answers from it. When he straightens, Leila is wrapping Marcus’s fist, blood dripping from his cut knuckles, sliced by the thing’s sharp fangs.

  “We have to kill it.” He scowls at Reid, fury still simmering just below the surface.

  “Agreed.” Leila looks up, finished, her hands trembling. “I don’t want that thing anywhere near us.”

  They all weigh in, most in agreement. “Let me do it,” Milo offers, all bravado and young courage. “I’ll hold it for you,” Cole says. “Make it run, then kill it.” “Break its legs first.” “Yeah, break its legs and gut it then make it run.” Reid listens to them grow more and more bloodthirsty, the suggestions getting wilder and more violent as they work themselves into a murdering frenzy.

  “Enough,” he says at last. “It lives. For now.”

  “Better keep an eye on it,” Sarah mutters. Milo and Cole fist bump her, death in their expressions.

  Reid sighs. “Everyone get some rest.” He glances at Marcus. “If we’re safe here?”

  Marcus glances at the GPS. “Seem to be,” he says. “But not from those other things.”

  Reid almost forgot about the hulking creatures the hunters brought with them this time. Oddly, when he thinks about it, they remind him of dogs.

  “We can’t worry about that now,” Reid says knowing he can warn them in time but not able to come up with a reasonable explanation to tell the others. “We’ve survived this long without knowing where the hunters were. We will again. Now, everyone get some sleep. I’ll take the first watch.”

  They grumble their way into their nesting places, the first light of morning washing over them as they group off for comfort and safety. It’s been a long and eventful night and it isn’t long before most of them are asleep, deadly intentions forgotten.

  Reid feels like he’ll never sleep again. His body is so wired it’s like he’s taken some kind of drug that won’t let him rest. The rising sun doesn’t help matters any. He paces the perimeter of the site, trying to order his thoughts. When he circles around for the fourth time, he notices the creature watching him. Reid jerks his eyes from its gaze, knowing better by now. When he does, he sees its tied hands are beckoning him. He glances around, sure the rest are asleep, and decides it’s worth it to find out what the thing wants.

  Reid slips the gag free. “What?”

  The hunter smiles. “I know what you’ve done.”

  Reid flinches inside but plays dumb, hoping for information. “What are you talking about?”

  It laughs this time, a sickening sound that clenches Reid’s stomach into a knot of disgust, its pale skin almost transparent in the new light. “If you’re not careful,” it whispers, “you’ll be dining on them yourself, baby brother.”

  His whole body stills in shock and the most absolute horror he has ever felt. Being chased is nothing compared to this realization. Dying even would be preferable. Reid lurches back from the hunter, soul shriveling even though he denies the truth out loud.

  “No,” he says. “You’re lying.”

  It simply shrugs and closes its eyes. “Keep it up,” the hunter says, “and you’ll see.”

  Reid jams the gag back into its mouth, tying it with vicious tightness before stumbling away. He hugs himself in what remains of the dark, hunched on his haunches, rocking back and forth. He can’t be turning into one of them. There has to be another explanation. And yet, he knows the truth, feels it inside him, is pretty sure he understood all along but didn’t want to admit it.

  Reid weeps, wishing he was dead while the blackness inside him laughs in the hunter's voice and continues to suck him in.

  ***

  Chapter Eleven

  He is running, the trees a blur around him, moonlight shining above as bright as the sun. His feet barely skim the ground, a primeval longing in his heart that builds in his chest and bursts from his throat as a hunter’s howl.

  His pack, his real pack, flows around him, their eyes shining, blood tied to his, power reaching for his. They run as one, and he rejoices to be part of this incredible family.

  Something springs from the undergrowth ahead, darts down the trail. A terrified rabbit, bolting for freedom. He soars after it, hunger driving him forward, the catch so easy, the prey weak and pathetic as it squeals for mercy.

  He lifts one arm, his powerful claws glinting in the moonlight, whole being on fire for the thrill of the kill. The prey squirms and screams beneath him while his hand descends, talons neatly opening the abdomen.

  He feasts with his brothers and sisters, the tender liver so full of life, ripping out the still-beating heart and draining the blood into his up-turned mouth. The flavor is so rich, the essence sweet. As he tips his head forward, savoring the last drop, his eyes meet those of the prey and he finds himself howling all over again. But this time in horror.

  Drew stares back at him with a very disappointed look on his face.

  “You promised,” Drew says. “You promised you wouldn’t eat me.”

  ***

  Reid jerks awake, pulse so fast he has to roll over on his side to catch his breath. His stomach forcefully expels its contents onto the ground as Reid vomits up the poisonous dream along with his last meal.

  He finally stops heaving and twists away from the vile puddle, disoriented, dizzy, breathing in and out through his open mouth, the fresher flavor of the dirt and grass beneath him tickling the back of his raw throat.

  He shouldn’t have fallen asleep. Reid sits up suddenly, panicked, before memory surfaces. Leila. She came to him, told him she couldn’t rest herself. Insisted he get some of his own. And despite being sure it wouldn’t be possible, he was obviously wrong about being able to go to sleep.

  Reid scrubs his face with both hands, wiping the line of saliva from his lips, reaching for his water bottle while he processes the dream. Nightmare. That’s all it was. Fed by what he learned from the hunter. Reid swishes a couple of mouthfuls, spitting them out to clear the horrid taste and draws a deep and shaking breath, hands clenching against his still angry stomach. He’s all right. The black, gaping hole inside him is gone for whatever reason, whether because he’s no longer under the influence of the powder or possibly because his overactive imagination finally let it go. He wants to believe the latter but figures his initial thought is probably the right one.

  Reid automatically looks around for Leila to be sure she’s stil
l awake and is surprised to find her crouched over the hunter. His stability returning, Reid eases to his feet and approaches her, wondering what she’s doing with her hands and why her shoulders are shaking. It’s not until he is almost on top of her that he sees the flash of a knife blade, heavy with black liquid, rising and falling.

  He dives for her, pulls her away, but it’s too late. As he does the hunter hisses into a pile of glittering dust.

  Leila sobs silently, letting the knife fall from her hand, collapsing sideways into Reid’s arms. He holds her to his chest, not angry at all and surprised by that. He never expected this of her. Marcus, definitely. Milo and Cole, yes, and even Sarah or Nishka. But Leila? She continues to amaze and confuse him.

  Leila finally stills, wiping her clean hand on the ground over and over as though it were coated in blood. But only dust falls away. Reid hands her the water bottle. She gulps a few swallows before settling against him again.

  “It had to die.” She is such a mystery to him, an enigma. She defends the rights of even someone like Marcus to survive no matter what he’s done, and yet can kill in cold blood when her sense of justice is challenged. Reid shakes his head to himself.

  “Feel better?”

  She nods into his chest. “Much.” Leila sits back, a wavering smile on her face, tears mingling with the bits of the creature’s dust sparkling on her pale cheeks. Reid very calmly reaches up and wipes the spots away despite the churning in his gut. The sight of the hunter’s remains glittering on her face makes him ill.

  “I stole your knife.” She looks down at it, not touching it. “I’m sorry.”

  Reid shrugs. “No worries.” He picks it up himself, taps it free of the powder, watching the stuff sift into the grass and vanish.

  “I sat here all afternoon,” she says, “after I told you to sleep. Staring at it. And it stared back at me. No matter where I was, it would roll over and stare.” She is shaking a little again, a quivering tick that jostles her whole body. “I just couldn’t stand it any more.”

  “You could have come and got me.” Reid strokes her hair, the softness of it.

  “I know,” she says. “I did. But then I saw your knife sticking out of your pocket and the idea happened and I just acted.”

  Reid nods. “I get it.”

  “Do you?” She shudders. “I guess you do. I’m sorry I stole your knife. But I’m not sorry I killed it.”

  Reid isn’t either. She’s right. They all are. Who gives a crap? He tells himself all he wants is to find a way to escape.

  Reid glances at the pack of kids, making sure everyone is safe and wonders when he started that particular habit. Was it when he first met Leila, Drew and Milo in the cave? When he left Joel to die and somehow became responsible for the kids the bully was using as sacrifices to save his own miserable life? Or was it after that, when they were trapped in the mine maze? Not that it really matters, he knows. It’s only that for him, that kind of thing should have a memory attached to it.

  Reid has more than enough memories to hang it on so he lets it go.

  Knowing he’s doing it doesn’t stop him from continuing. The need is like a compulsion. It’s not until his gaze passes over the last one that he is grateful for the habit. It tells him someone is missing.

  “Where’s Marcus?” Reid turns to Leila, seeing the glow in her cheeks reflecting purple and red, realizing night is coming. They’ve slept the day away. The deep black chases the sun, but there is still plenty of light for him to see her rosy blush.

  “I… I don’t know.” She looks around, guilt twisting her beautiful face. “I didn’t see him leave.” Her hands are shaking again. “I was so focused on the hunter I must have missed it.”

  Reid gets up, does another quick check, staying quiet so as not to wake the others but again he turns up nothing.

  “Should we look for him?” Leila is hugging herself to keep from trembling as Reid’s mind turns over any number of scenarios, none of them good. He’s surprised to find he’s worried about Marcus.

  “No,” Reid says. “Either he slipped off on purpose or something happened to him. Either way, there’s not much we can do.”

  She nods, proof to Reid she’s still in shock over what she’s done. Focused Leila would insist they look for Marcus.

  Reid guides her to where some of the kids sleep and helps her lie down, stroking her hair as she pillows her head on her arm and closes her eyes. She’s out in moments, leaving Reid free to wonder about Marcus.

  As he sits there, on guard over Leila, Reid has a horrible feeling rise inside him. If the hunters came, they wouldn’t just take Marcus. They would have attacked all of the kids. And it’s not like Marcus has the courage market cornered or anything so the likelihood he ran off to do battle on his own is slim.

  As Reid thinks of and discards scenario after scenario as the last of the light leaves, his anger heats up. There are no really good reasons for Marcus to have abandoned them. Unless… unless he found a way to escape without them. Reid doesn’t want to think that way but he has been through so much and his heart tells him whatever Marcus is doing will only mean bad things for the rest of the kids.

  Reid hopes Marcus proves him wrong, wills him to reappear and give him a good explanation but the longer time that goes by the more Reid knows this won’t end well at all.

  His eyes flicker to the remains of the dead hunter, the shimmering powder now muted as the day gives way to night. He stares at it for a long time, his mind circling around Marcus and the huge creatures from the night before and the soldiers with their guns until Reid can’t take it anymore.

  This is the only edge they have available to them. He rifles through his pack, pulling out the Tupperware container of peanut butter. It’s gone now, swiped clean with first a spoon then his tongue, the flavor a favorite memory. The first night since this began he was able to shower, in hot water even, eat homemade bread toasted with the delicious spread, dress in clean clothes, sleep in a bed. For a moment he longs for the peace he found that night in the trap of the town and wonders if he’ll ever find that feeling again.

  He doesn’t have time to reminisce. Not with the glittering dust calling to him. Reid pops the container open and takes it with him as he moves to the pile. He uses his hand to scoop as much as he can into the plastic dish before sealing it closed and shoving it in his pocket. The weight of it feels right, comforting while he considers taking the last of the stuff right away. It shines there on the grass, begging him to let it fire his body again, to elevate him past his normal human senses.

  Reid stands, disperses the last of the hunter’s body into the ground with the toe of his sneaker so he won’t be tempted. He will not take the stuff. Not now, not here. Not without a reason. He shoves aside his fears, telling himself it’s only in case of the most dire emergency.

  All the while his heart calls him a liar.

  He turns at the sound of someone approaching, his anger returning when he sees Marcus slink back into the camp.

  “Where have you been?” Reid keeps his voice quiet but Marcus jumps anyway.

  “Nowhere.” The sullen attitude is familiar but the hint of guilt isn’t.

  “You’ve been gone a long time for someone who didn’t go anywhere.” This time Reid doesn’t try to whisper, his anger coming out in his volume. He sees kids stirring in his peripheral vision but stays focused on Marcus.

  “It’s none of your damned business.” Marcus turns away but Reid is on him in a rush, spinning him back around.

  “It is if you’ve done something to put the rest of us in danger.” Reid grabs the GPS out of Marcus’s pocket before he can stop him and looks at it. Has a private moment of relief. There are no hunters in the area at least.

  Marcus’s eyes flicker to the monitor then away again. And suddenly Reid knows he can’t trust it anymore. He tosses it into the woods while the kids protest. But Marcus won’t meet his eyes and doesn’t stay a word when Reid shakes him.

  “What they hell
have you done?”

  Marcus is silent, stone-faced and closed off. He doesn’t move or protest or try to pull free, just stands there while Reid’s anger and fear grow in tandem.

  “Marcus,” Leila is beside him, one hand on his arm, her concern so clear in her voice Reid wants to slap her for it. “What’s wrong? Where did you go?”

  They’re all awake now, alert and standing around, some just puzzled, while others show fear. Kieran has his arms around Sarah and Nishka while Milo and Cole gather up their stuff and look like they are ready to run at a moment’s notice.

  Marcus shifts his weight, but not to escape. His shoulders slump forward, expression crumpling.

  “I went to see my father.”

  Reid is so shocked he lets Marcus go. While this was one scenario he did imagine he never believed Marcus would be that stupid.

  “We have to leave. Now.” Reid turns away, sees the kids obeying him immediately, the pack in tune with his anxiety.

  “I didn’t tell him anything.” Marcus grabs Reid in turn, pulling him back. “I swear I didn’t. I just wanted to talk to him. To find out why I’m… we’re here.”

  Reid’s fist acts before his mind can stop it. He hits Marcus square in the jaw, almost lifting him from the ground with the blow, sending him to his back with a whoosh of lost air.

  Reid stands over him, hands clenched at his sides to keep from attacking Marcus. “There are probably hunters all around us by now because you were so damned stupid. If any one of these kids die because of what you’ve done…” Reid is shaking from the effort it takes to hold himself back. “I swear it, Marcus, I’ll kill you myself.”

  “He had a message for us.” Marcus sits up, rubbing his jaw, ignoring the death threat. “If we go to the gate, turn ourselves in, they’ll let us go. He promised.” Even Marcus doesn’t look like he believes it but he hands it to them anyway.

 

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