Every inch she scooted back, I edged forward until a hand wrapped around my arm and started dragging me backward. I looked down at his hand as he continued to tow me away. Why wasn’t he afraid of touching me? I was a Plaguer. He was from the Wilds. He had to be. Didn’t he understand what that meant? He should be frightened I was going to kill him with my disease, like any goddamn normal person would be. Even country folk, the people that were born and grew up in Newco, took a while before they stopped fearing they’d drop dead from getting anywhere near me.
But there he was, latched on to me nice and tight, towing me a good fifteen feet away from the other two and near the clearance to the beach. I looked down at the offending hand. “What is wrong with you?” I said, almost in disgust. “Why aren’t you afraid of touching me?”
He didn’t bother responding to my questions, as if it meant nothing to him. He didn’t drop his hand until we were away from the other two. “You are going to cross with us.”
“I’m not getting on a boat and you won’t like what happens if you try and make me.” I held up my right hand and pulled off the glove. “You think they’re going to take me if they see this? They might not take any of you after they see it. I bet they’ll think you’re all infected, or they will after I make sure and tell them that.”
“You are getting on that boat one way or another. I’m trying to do this the nice way and it’s in your interest to cooperate.” He leaned closer. “But it will happen either way.”
“No, what is in my interest is for you to tell me what the hell you want from me and who you people are.”
“Don’t push me.” He was hulking over me.
It was a warning, and I wondered if I was handling things in the best way. But I couldn’t get on that boat. What would Moobie do? I thought back quickly to some of his adventures but nothing seemed fitting. I had to stall and he’d have to sleep at some point. Maybe he just needed a reminder of what he was dealing with.
I fell forward slightly until I was leaning almost doubled over with a hand braced on a tree, and coughed like I was trying to evict a lung from my chest.
“Are you sick?” he asked.
Even after that display of weakness, he still didn’t back up. Did the man have no common sense?
“I think this has all been too much on my body. I think I’m getting sick.” I let out a low moan. Maybe I should bite my cheek and get some blood going on for effect. I didn’t really want to gnash up my mouth, though. Maybe I should take a peek at his status first.
Bastard still wasn’t backing up. The stone facade looked like it was not only going to crack but completely blow. He knew I was faking.
“You’re getting on that boat,” he said, although his jaw barely moved.
He really did look like he was going to lose it completely and I wasn’t sure that was something I wanted to see. But I couldn’t just roll over either. I couldn’t get on that boat willingly.
I stood straight up, shaking the fake plague symptoms like I was brushing off a dead leaf from my clothes. “I want everyone’s name and where we’re heading. I also want an explanation of why you can’t tell me. If it sounds plausible, we can discuss the rest of the details and then determine whether or not a boat ride is in order.”
I watched him closely. Oh yeah, he was like a dormant volcano ready to blow. I reminded myself that he couldn’t kill me. He didn’t go through all that trouble for nothing, but he sure looked like he wanted to.
A kernel of fear popped into me and I was so disgusted by it that it drove my next words. “Would you like a moment to think over your options?”
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, although him reaching out and strangling me wouldn’t have come as a shock. His hands were fisted like he was holding himself back.
He turned and walked away, back toward the other two where they were waiting.
Scarred man was standing looking relatively calm. Patches was off the ground standing again but fidgeting continuously with what looked like repressed anger. Our eyes met and she tilted her head back as if she were sniffing the air and my presence had tainted it with a foul smell, then made a sour face.
I reached a new low I’d never thought I’d stoop to. I stuck out my tongue. Her twitching shifted gears into full speed.
“I say we off the bitch, Dax, and be done with it,” she said.
Finally, at least I now had a name for the one who might murder me at any moment.
Dax finished his walk over to her and the scarred man and said a couple of words while I eyed up the beach. This might be it. Why was I waiting? They weren’t even paying attention to me. I took a couple of steps toward the shoreline, testing the waters while the body language of the trio seemed to be getting more heated.
“She’s a Plaguer,” the female said loud enough to make sure I heard. “So what if we leave her.”
Dax replied but I couldn’t hear what he said.
Dax had his back to me while she kept speaking. The scarred guy was aptly listening and no one was looking at me. What if this was my last chance? I moved slowly to the gap in the trees, not wanting a sudden movement to draw their attention. As soon as I got close enough, I took off down the beach.
I pushed my body past the exhaustion that had already sunk in and sprinted with everything I had left and some that I didn’t know existed.
I ran as hard as I could. I shouldn’t have looked back to see if they were chasing me. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen Dax taking off after me and I wouldn’t have been so flustered that I ran right into someone else.
I heard Dax yell, “Hold her,” right before a beefy fist connected with my face and I went down for the count.
Chapter 8
The ground was swaying so hard beneath me that I reached out to grab something before I even opened my eyes. Correction. Eye. I’d had enough shiners in my life to know the left wasn’t going to be open for business for at least another day or two.
What I did see out of the one left functioning was clouds rolling in over my head and a large sail flapping in the wind. So much for not toeing the line.
I was on the boat.
“Look at that, you’re on the boat.”
I heard the distinctive gravelly voice and looked up to realize not only was Dax standing beside me but my hand was wrapped around his calf, with the glove that had somehow gotten back on my hand.
I let go of him quickly and tried to make out his expression where he loomed over me. His face was cast in shadow as he was silhouetted by a mostly sunny sky, making it difficult.
“Thank you, oh wise one. I never would’ve figured that out.”
He squatted down beside me and looked me over, his eyes pausing in the general vicinity of his friend’s handiwork. As far as beatings went, this was a one on a scale of twenty. Did he think I was going to be cowering in fear over something this trivial? I pushed up off the wooden deck just in case he was under the assumption I was beaten on any level that mattered, and got to my feet, ignoring the offered hand.
“You think I’m scared because of a little bruise?” I asked. “You people can do your worst. This is nothing.”
“He’s not my people. And if I wanted to scare you, you’d be scared.”
I lifted my hand, opening and closing my thumb and fingers together, making the message clearer than anything I could’ve said. He was all talk.
“You might be more trouble than you’re worth but at least you’re entertaining. Mildly, anyway.”
If he was entertained that was news to me. “So glad I can liven up your cruise,” I replied, and got to the business of sizing up my new location.
I scanned the boat and saw the man who’d decked me. He was a hulking giant that was securing a sail line at the other end. There were five pirates in view and all seemed quite filthy considering they were surrounded by water.
The three bikes were on the deck as well, and Patches and Scar were at the other end of a boat that looked about forty feet lo
ng.
I moved to the rail to get a better view and leaned over as much as I could, looking at the waves that were kicking up along with some winds.
“Don’t think of jumping,” he said.
I wouldn’t ever jump. I looked up at the coast. It was a long ways away, especially for someone who couldn’t swim. I’d drown if they didn’t come in after me, but hell if I’d tell them that. I hadn’t finally gotten out to end up throwing it away drowning, but I wasn’t in the habit of broadcasting my weak spots so I kept my mouth shut.
I could feel his eyes on me. “You shouldn’t have run.”
“And you should’ve done what you’d agreed to, Dax.”
His head didn’t move and his eyes didn’t break contact with me. I had this strange idea that he was aware of every single person’s location on that deck even when he looked otherwise preoccupied.
“I think they’re following us,” he said.
I knew who they were, and he didn’t mean the pirates. He meant Newco and the friendly staff of the Cement Giant. I gripped the side of the boat to keep from reacting, before telling myself there was no way he knew that for sure.
“Once we get to that land over there, that’s when we’ll talk.”
I looked at the land on the other side nearing us, like I had a choice in the matter. “Fine.”
Dax didn’t say anything else and moved to the opposite railing, to go stand by Patches and Scar. I stayed where I was and looked out at the water and the coast beyond. It was so beautiful. Even with an uncertain future and an eye swollen shut, I tilted my head back as the wind caught my hair, and couldn’t stop the smile. I was really out of there.
“What’s she so fucking happy about?” I heard one the pirates ask his friend.
“Didn’t you see her hands before he put the glove back on? She’s a Plaguer. She’s nuts,” his friend answered. “We’re all going to be lucky if we’re standing come tomorrow. I can’t believe the captain agreed to this.”
“Somebody should push her over.”
“I’m not touching her.”
“Me neither.”
My smile didn’t falter.
* * *
“We’re going,” Dax said to me some ten minutes later.
I nodded and watched as they rolled two of the metal bikes up and then lowered them down with ropes to a floating square made up of wood that also had Patches and Scar on it. The pirates rowed the raft to shore, dropped off its riders and then returned to the boat.
It was my turn and I was climbing down a rope ladder to an area tight with the last bike, a couple of pirates, including the big burly one who hit me, Dax and the last bike. I would’ve stayed closer to the center, even if it was near the burly pirate, if it wasn’t for Dax steering me in a different corner. I’d never admit it but I was grateful for the arm Dax looped around my waist when I ended up by the edge of the raft, even if it did make me intensely aware of him. I couldn’t wait until the pirates paddled us closer to the coast.
I wasn’t prepared for Dax to jump off the raft with me in tow once we hit waist-deep water. Vacations with my parents flitted to mind again, memories of being in waters like this and a life that seemed like it had been too idyllic to have been real. It was the last time I’d been in a pool of water. The Cement Giant only had showers. Now that I could feel my feet touch the bottom and I knew I wouldn’t drown, it was amazing. I wanted to dunk my entire body in it and splash around.
Dax moved ahead and the raft was towed in with ropes on two ends, and I moved along with everyone else, resisting the urge to submerge myself.
I slowed my pace as the burly pirate moved in front of me. Seabirds caught my attention and I looked up only briefly when something caught my ankles and I was falling face first into the water.
I found my footing quick enough and came up invigorated. Dax was staring in my direction like he was pissed off. “What the hell? I tripped. Not a big deal,” I said, getting stiff.
I pushed my now wet hair back from my face, feeling utterly refreshed even as the tension in the group seemed heightened. I was going to have to do some serious adjustments in my thinking, because these people in the Wilds were strange. That really said something considering I’d come from a place that housed all the crazies of Newco.
The raft was finally dragged up onto the shore and the last bike was rolled off when I saw Dax round on the pirate who’d punched me.
“You got water on my bike,” Dax said to him as we hit the shore.
It was sort of a ridiculous statement, since they’d just been transported across a shitload of water, but the pirate seemed to take the question seriously, compounding my belief that people in the Wilds were just plain old weird.
“There’s no water on your bike,” the pirate replied.
He was bigger than Dax but looked soft where Dax was hard. There was another difference between them too that I couldn’t quite figure out. Something in the way they stood, maybe? The way they talked? What was it that I sensed that was so different? This was really going to bug me.
“Don’t tell me what I see,” Dax said, and then hauled off and launched a fist straight into his face. The pirate fell like a ton of bricks.
Aaah, that must have been the thing I couldn’t figure out. Dax could kick some serious ass and the pirate just pretended he could.
I turned to Scar, who seemed to stay within a five-feet perimeter of me now. “Dax really doesn’t like water on his bike, huh?”
He grunted before he answered. “He doesn’t like when people fuck with his stuff.”
Dax helped the other pirate load his friend onto the raft and shove off back into the water toward the larger boat. That was one huge stretch of water I would have to get back over when I enacted my plan.
“There any other way across this?”
“No. Their gang runs this bay and most of the Atlantic in these parts.”
“Runs the Atlantic?”
“Crossings. You don’t get across any of the large waters around here unless you go through them. Only other way to do it is to go west first and add a ton of travel time.” He turned away from me as Dax approached. “We heading out?”
“You two go ahead. Make camp at the place and we’ll catch up within the hour.”
Scar nodded and walked over to where Patches was. They got on their bikes and took off.
“Come on,” Dax said, as he pushed the bike over to an alcove that was hidden from view. He stood the bike up and put out his hand. “Give me your sweatshirt,” he said.
The dark fabric was hanging almost to my knees with the weight of the water as I took it off and handed it to him. He grabbed it and wrung it out vigorously before laying it across a fallen tree.
He turned back to me and froze for a second. I looked down to figure out what had thrown him and saw the now wet white of my dress hadn’t left much to the imagination. I crossed my arms in front of my chest as he seemed to be making a concerted effort to act like he hadn’t just seen all of my goods on display. The way his eyes had frozen on me and then turned away, as if he didn’t want to see me, again confirmed what I’d feared. I was deformed in some way. That was why the guards never touched me. It wasn’t because I was a Plaguer. They knew after being around me so long that I wasn’t contagious. Dax hadn’t seemed to fear catching anything from me either. So it was something else. I thought I looked like everyone else, but something was obviously wrong with me. Whatever; he didn’t have to look at me if I was so ugly.
He reached a hand back and tugged the t-shirt he wore over his head and then held it out to me. I’d never seen a man without a shirt on in person and now I had one in close range.
I had a feeling most of them didn’t look the way he did. There was a handful of scars scattered about his front and sides, but nothing that detracted from him. It might have even added to his appeal.
This was what I’d sensed earlier. He was a fighter. He was hardened and didn’t take any shit and it showed. It was strange bu
t I felt like he appeared to the world the way I was inside. Like we were the same, he was just inside out.
He shoved the shirt at me. “Put this on so you can take your dress off and lay it in the sun for a few minutes.”
I took it from him and he turned his back without being asked.
I shimmied out of the wet dress and threw his shirt on. “So, why’d you break me out?”
“Because I need what you can do.”
“Which is what?” I asked, thinking he’d messed up royally. I didn’t have any known skills other than a larger-than-life thirst for freedom, and couldn’t figure out how that would benefit anyone but me.
“I’ve been searching for a Plaguer for a while. I need to know what you see.”
“You mean the stuff we make up?” I asked, wanting to hear him say he believed what I saw wasn’t just stories. I’d spent so many years aware of how Plaguers were discredited that I found the idea of a stranger I’d just met believing me impossible.
“We both know that isn’t the truth.”
I moved past him to where the sweatshirt was laid out across the log and laid the white dress beside it, mimicking what he’d done. This was stuff I’d need to know, like how the sun could dry my clothes.
The simple action brought me a weird feeling of satisfaction. At the Cement Giant, we’d been given a set of clothes after we showered every day. I didn’t own a white dress but had shared them with all the other girls my size in the compound. But that was my dress lying there. Mine. I still hated it and what it represented, but it was mine. I owned it.
“How does my thing help you?” Now the very thing that had landed me in the Cement Giant was the thing that had freed me.
“I don’t know if it can but I’m looking for something and I’ve reached a dead end.”
“What are you looking for?”
“You don’t need to know that.”
“Fine. I don’t really care anyway, to be honest.” I shrugged. I had enough on my plate and this Dax guy could handle his own affairs. “All you want from me is to tell you what I pick up off people?”
The Wilds Page 6