by Joss Ware
Owen had done more than kiss her before they’d gone their separate ways. She felt her traitorously fair skin heat even in the steamy bathroom, remembering his hand slipping up under her T-shirt, working her bra loose and then curling up around her bare breast.
But that had been years ago. Five, six, maybe even seven. She’d lost track. Hadn’t really cared to keep track.
She’d always stopped Owen’s hand before it went too far south, partly because she wanted to make it clear she wasn’t a Cor-Whore, and partly because she wasn’t ready for that. And, frankly, after having grown up in Falling Creek and barely making it out of the settlement without being married off at fifteen, she wasn’t sure when she’d ever be ready for sex.
Annoyed with her woolgathering, Sage glared at herself in the mirror and winced when she felt a pang at her sore eye. “Better quit wasting time,” she lectured her reflection. “You’ve got things to do.”
Indeed she did, for after Lou had arrived last night and fractured whatever tension had been growing between her and Theo, she’d returned to the computer screen and the search-engine results that someone had previously generated while Theo explained about the attack.
By now, the sunlight had spilled over the eastern horizon, filtering into the hotel room in which she’d made her home with Jade for the last five years. Sage worked her thick, wet hair into a braid and twisted it into a low coil on the back of her neck, then pulled on a lightweight sweater that also boasted a hood.
With her hair wet (and thus darker) and tucked away, she wouldn’t be as noticeable, especially if she pulled the hood forward to partially obscure her face and wore dark sunglasses. Aside from that, it was early enough that few people would be up and about to notice her.
As she’d told Theo last night, Sage was not about to keep herself locked away, hiding from the world. His comment had hit a little too close to home for her, and that had been part of the reason she’d slept little.
Not that she was foolish. Sage slipped a knife into the pocket of her hoodie, just in case, and planned to keep specially alert.
Finally, her belly fluttering with nerves and excitement, she left her room and headed out, surprisingly glad to be up and about.
It was about time she allowed herself to live again.
* * *
Oh my God. Oh ym GOD!!!!!!!
Whats happenning???
The earthqaukes. They started this afternoon and went onfor hoiurs. Or maybe it’s aftershjocks. People screamng. Ive never heard the noise of buildings falling. of crashes like this. It’s terrible. It’s lioke a war.
There’s no one else arund! No ambulnaces or pokice. No one. Justscreams.
I onlysee dead people, inujred people everywhere I look. DRew and I have some cuts and bruises. We’te safe but we’te scareed. When will it end? WE can hasdly see thru the smoke and dust.
Outside the STrip is fillled with more screams and falling debris. Most of the lights have gone out, but there are a few left. We seefires allover, and elexctric sparks flying. It’s getting darker. The ground lkeeps moving!!!!!
I wWANTt to get out ofhere, but there’s mnowhere to go.
Drew is freazked, yellng at me for writign on my laptop, but it’s the onyl way I can handle this. Through I casn hardly typed,, I have to qwrite it down. EVen if I can’t upload it, I’ll wqrite it.
—from Adventures in Juliedom, the
blog of Julie Davis Beecher
* * *
CHAPTER 3
Sage knew that Las Vegas had originally boasted a desert climate, but since the Change, its weather had turned damp, and almost tropical.
Lou Waxnicki believed that the appearance of a new land area in the Pacific Ocean—along with the other devastating tectonic plate movements of the massive earthquakes—had caused an adjustment of continental mass. The result, he theorized, was that the earth’s axis had shifted, changing not only climate, but weather, geography, flora and fauna.
With California, Oregon, and part of Washington under the ocean, and the shoreline intruding on what had been the Strip, the land surrounding Envy now grew green and lush.
Sage had seen pictures of Las Vegas in its heyday, and as she walked from a rear entrance of New York–New York, she found herself looking about with new eyes. After hearing Simon’s surprisingly poetic description the night before, she was more curious about the city and what it had been like when it was so alive. She’d never known Envy to be anything but a half-ravaged mecca of civilization in a world that reminded her of the Old West—at least, as portrayed in movies and books.
But today, she looked up at the buildings that loomed over her. New York–New York still rose fairly intact, but the ragged rooftops of other structures that hadn’t fared so well caught her attention. She tried to imagine what it would have been like with pristine walls and lights and sounds and color everywhere, instead of the trees, bushes, vines, and even grasses sprouting from broken windows, ledges, crevices, and wherever their tenacious roots could delve.
Although the thoroughfare near the inhabited section of Envy was maintained and kept free of extraneous growth, the street signs were long gone—destroyed or otherwise removed. Years after the devastated area had been looted and scavenged for anything worthwhile, Envyites had no reason to venture into that area, for the disabled structures were uninhabitable and potentially dangerous.
Sage slipped the knife from her pocket as she traveled farther from the familiar part of the city toward the northeast, and let her hood fall back a bit to gain better peripheral vision. The buildings that hadn’t been reduced to rubble during or after the Change clustered together, tall and dark and close, and overgrown enough that she felt as if she were approaching a dark forest. Windows broken, rusted signs and cars, jagged concrete that sprouted bushes or patches of grass…and silence.
What few street signs remained were often bent, crooked, or otherwise mangled—offering little in the way of direction. But Sage had scrutinized a map of the city as it had been, and, having spent enough time on the rooftop overlooking the new terrain, felt confident that she could find the building—or at least its location and remains—that had once housed a condo owned by Remington Truth.
She’d had to look up the word “condo,” not being exactly sure what it meant, and had come away with the understanding that, at least in this case, it was likely some sort of penthouse or apartment.
Although she wasn’t exactly sure what she thought she might find, Sage felt compelled to be doing something other than remaining cooped up in the computer lab. Theo had been right about that. She had hidden herself away after arriving in Envy—partly because she was a Corrigan from Falling Creek, and partly because she found it easier to spend time on the computer than to actually talk to people. Especially ones that treated her like a Corrigan from Falling Creek.
The structure she sought had apparently been the newest, most grand of its kind in Vegas, in an attempt to outdo the Wynn…and, if her calculations were correct, while the Wynn was now under the ocean, the Beretta was not. So at least in one way, the Beretta won the longevity competition.
From the images she’d been able to find, she’d also identified the building on the jagged skyline of Envy. Originally intended to be as black and sleek as the weapon for which it was named, the cluster of narrow cylinders no longer appeared as lethal as it had in the photos. Instead, many of the windows were broken, showing steel girders and the overgrown interiors of the seven cylinders of varied heights. Though it wasn’t under the Pacific, the building hadn’t been able to completely withstand the force of the earthquakes and storm-force gales that had followed, and a portion of the structure had caved in, crumbling away over the years.
Sage’s information indicated that Remington Truth’s condo had not, fortunately, been a penthouse at the topmost level but on the top of one of the shorter cylinders. That gave her hope that it might still be intact.
After nearly an hour of walking through dark, overgrown and littered streets, Sa
ge reached the base of the building and found herself facing a twenty-foot barrier. The wall, made of hundreds of cars piled four or five atop each other, created a fence around the structure. And as she drew nearer, peering through the moldering and broken windows of the smashed vehicles, she smelled it.
The stench of gangas.
Her mouth dried and her heart pounded faster as she whipped around to look behind her, as if they were about to appear. Sage had only seen gangas from a distance, but she recognized their smell—that of death, of rotting flesh and decaying bone.
Or so she was told.
Heart pounding, listening for their Ruuu-uuuth, ruuthhhh moans, Sage scanned the area not only for the creatures, but also for a place to clamber up and away from them if necessary. But the sun had risen higher, casting a gentle yellow glow over the patches of ground it could reach and the sides of buildings where it could not, and she knew that the gangas couldn’t move about in the sunlight. She was safe out here, at least.
Thus reassured, she eased up to one of the vehicles and attempted to look at the building through the jagged window, but found that other cars piled on and next to it blocked her view.
It was obvious that the fence meant to protect the building that had once housed Remington Truth—or to keep intruders out.
And more than possible that the gangas she smelled guarded the place.
Or was she crazy?
Sage listened, sniffed again, looked around and even paced along the fence’s perimeter. But the more she thought about it, the more she believed she was right. Why else would someone build such a barrier? And there were no gangas in Envy—an even higher, deeper wall kept them out and the humans safe.
But apparently, someone had brought gangas in, secreting them here in this area separated and distant from the rest of the city.
Standing in the largest area of sunlight she could find, Sage considered her options.
Gangas were slow and clumsy. They couldn’t climb. But they were bigger than a man and a half, and strong, and they ate human flesh…after tearing it into bite-sized pieces.
Sage didn’t want to come face-to-face with one. But she also wanted to get inside that building, now certain more than ever that there was a reason to do so. Someone—the Strangers?—was protecting something.
And she wanted to find out more.
She could go back and find Theo, get him to come with her. It would be the smartest thing to do. He was superhumanly strong and he’d fought gangas many times before. He might be annoyed with her for coming out here on her own, but he’d want to investigate.
Then she frowned. He’d want to investigate, and he’d insist that she stay safely back home.
Sage glanced at the building again, this time peering up at the jagged shape that looked as if some gigantic scythe had hacked off its top. She had to shade her eyes to see, for the sun had risen even farther behind it, and though it was still near the horizon, it blazed hot and bright.
She froze. Had it been a trick of her eyes, or had she seen something—someone—moving? A shadowy figure, shifting in front of a shattered window. Too tall to be an animal, too definite to be a tree branch or vine. Too sleek and quick to be a ganga.
Someone was up there.
Sage swallowed. Her heart raced faster as her mind clicked through the possibilities. A Stranger, here to protect the area. Some other Envyite—a hermit who lived with the gangas?
Maybe even Remington Truth.
Had whoever it was seen her?
The thought sent her ducking down into the shadows of the vehicle-fence, pressing close against the cold metal, a sharp stone digging through denim into her knees. Crouching thus, she duck-walked as quickly as she could halfway around the perimeter of the barrier, stopping occasionally to peek through the spaces between the smashed cars, hoping that whoever might have seen her from the building had lost track of her presence.
She listened, sniffed, and after a bit of a panic, assured herself that no one was about. The ganga scent lingered, but it hadn’t grown stronger, and she saw and heard nothing to announce the presence of anyone but herself. And a few bold rodents. And—
Her heart shot up into her throat. From the shadows between two close buildings she saw the lean shape of an animal. A wolf or wild dog, with pointed ears arched forward and a long dark snout. Crouching, eyes glinting in the shade, the canine fixated on her as she attempted to push closer to the car…as if she could become absorbed by the rusted metal.
Still watching the canine, she reached for the knife right there in her boot, sliding it free. The creature hadn’t moved, but now its teeth showed, and over her pounding heart and raspy breathing, she heard its low growling breath. Without moving her head, Sage slid her eyes away for a moment—was there room for her to slip under the car?
But no, it was wheelless, and sat directly on the ground. Nowhere for her to go. Nowhere but…in.
Her eyes moved back to the wolf and she felt the vibration of its tension as it gathered itself up, ready to bound forth from the shadows. He’d be on her in a moment…
She gripped the knife, keeping the blade at an aggressive angle—a position she’d seen on an old website about self-defense—and felt around for the car’s door handle. Slender and cool, the handle materialized under her fingers as she eyed the wolf.
He slinked from the shadows, a gaunt creature looking desperate and angry. Hunger and fear shone in his eyes. He wasn’t about to let this prey escape, but he was also slightly cowed.
She half turned away, yanking desperately at what was surely a rusted door that only a miracle would open. A glance back told her that the wolf’s hunger had won out over his fear, and, teeth bared, he was bearing down on her. She turned to the car, gripping her weapon, and with a shriek of frustration, smashed the butt of the knife at the window just above her shoulder.
The glass shattered and Sage swept the remnants out of the way as she launched up and into the vehicle just as the wolf leapt.
He slammed against the car, and she felt the whole thing jolt as she tumbled into an overgrown, moldy car seat covered with glass. Shards sliced into her palm and upper arm, and cut through her jeans and above her knees, but she was in, knife in hand. Scrambling around to face him, her head bumping the half-caved roof, Sage readied herself.
The wolf snarled and leapt at the car, but she could fight him off with the blade now as he tried to get at her through the small opening. Blood flew, splattering her, the mildewed glass that remained at the edges, and the wolf’s gleaming black nose. Fury lit its eyes as it lunged again, and she stabbed out with the knife, sending the wolf squealing and writhing away, his snout and face cut deeply.
He cried and howled, then came back once again, but Sage was ready, gripping the knife now slippery with their blood. With a grunt of exertion, she angled her weapon to the left and, when he lunged, she shoved it into the wolf’s neck.
The animal froze, its body snapping and seizing…then suddenly went limp, sliding off the blade and slumping to the ground.
Sage sagged back into the car, bloody, trembling, queasy…and triumphant.
Not that she ever wanted to repeat such an event, but…she’d done it.
Saved herself.
Stomach still roiling, she pulled herself up from the seat of the vehicle. The heavy scent of blood tinged the air, partly from her wounds, but mostly from the dead wolf. Her belly pitched and swayed, and the rush of adrenaline had washed into weakness.
Where had he come from anyway? Envy was supposed to be safe—from gangas and wolves and the lions and tigers that lived beyond the walls. He’d obviously been starved and desperate.
Sage looked out from the car window, in the direction from which she’d come, back toward the civilized part of Envy, and then she turned and looked on the other side. Her knees were weak and her hands shook, but she still wanted to investigate the building.
But maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. At least, not alone.
Still n
auseated, she managed to get the rusted door to open by kicking at it while lifting the latch. And, for the first time in her life, Sage stepped out of a car.
The wolf lay in a bloody heap in front of her, a dark pool seeping into the dirt and grass beneath it. That was all she needed. Her stomach rebelled, and she held on to the side of the car while everything came up. Just like last night.
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she took a deep breath. Then Sage cast one last, long look at the sleek Beretta building, and turned to go.
And suddenly, Simon Japp was standing there. Right in front of her. Lean, and humming with tension. His expression was more than a little frightening.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
Sage had to blink a few times to make certain she wasn’t hallucinating—and after what she’d been through, who’d blame her? Though why she should conjure up Simon Japp, in a tight black T-shirt and faded jeans, she couldn’t imagine.
“Sage?” he asked, and she felt his attention swipe over her. Then linger.
“I’ve got a few cuts. But nothing really bad.” She realized suddenly that the cut above her knee was really hurting, and that her jeans were sticking to its drying blood.
“You did that?” He gestured to the dead wolf.
Sage nodded and straightened her shoulders, showing him her knife. “I did.”
“Buena.” Then he gestured to the blade, a sharp, short movement of annoyance. “But now you’ve got to clean it.”
She nodded again, trying not to notice how fast her heart was pounding, and that her hands were unsteady. Of course, anyone’s heart would be racing if they’d just beaten off a wild canine, puked their second meal within twelve hours…and were suddenly being lectured on cleaning their knife. By a handsome, secretive man with steady, dark eyes…who’d appeared from nowhere.