And, anyway, I know Kayden’s avoiding me. He loved my sister like she was his own daughter. Particularly after his baby daughter was killed seven years ago.
He wouldn’t want me there.
And I keep thinking. Over and over. And over and over.
I can’t find my parents and kill them. What was I thinking? I can’t do that.
Murderer.
But I’ve killed Enhanced Ones before. When the four of us were traveling to Rahn’s group, we had many encounters with the Enhanced.
The first time, it was nighttime. We were huddled up in the corner of a forest. It was raining—that was why we didn’t hear the cracks of twigs underfoot until they were close. But one glimpse of the mirror eyes, and I was up, a branch in my hand.
Now, I don’t know how I had the strength. I was eleven. I wasn’t tall, wasn’t even particularly muscular—not like I am now.
But it was exhilarating. I remember that. Remember that clearly, the way adrenaline pumped around my body, feeding me. Remember the euphoria I felt afterward, the surge of power that gripped me, that made me feel invincible.
They weren’t the first Enhanced I’d killed, but they were the first I’d beaten to death. And it was more rewarding than when I shot two with Caia-Lu’s gun when I was nine. And how sick is that? I was eleven years old, and I found I loved killing the Enhanced with my bare hands, knew it was what I wanted to do. At D’Elinous, some two of the adults would actively seek out Enhanced in the nearby area and kill them to keep us safe. They called themselves the protectors, and I’d listen to their stories, only half-heartedly, not understanding why someone would put their life in danger like that. Why they wouldn’t just wait until a situation arose where they had to act, why they’d actually want to seek one out. Eventually, one of their missions got them both killed.
But, after that night, I understood why they did it. And I lived wanting to feel the exhilaration of beating an Enhanced to death, again and again. It became everything, and maybe I was taking out my anger, my anger over my parents’ surrender. Every Enhanced I saw was personally responsible, and each one gave me the euphoric feeling I craved when I killed them.
I think that’s where my adrenaline-junkie lifestyle, as Five would call it, comes from. That and Caia-Lu’s prediction. Because, ever since then, I’ve wanted to feel alive in that way. Feel strong, powerful, invincible, in control. Wanted to dance with danger.
We came across a lot of Enhanced on our travels—or maybe I made sure it was that way. We skirted cities, and it’s crazy to think that the four of us—children—made it through it all, alive and Untamed.
But I was the protector. It was my job to keep us alive, and I put everything into it. Elf was the hunter. He set snares and made a bow and arrow, caught our food and gathered berries. Occasionally, he joined in the killing, when the numbers were too much against me. Bea was the caregiver. She looked after us, fixed our cuts and grazes, washed out an infected gash, and was always the voice of reason, even though she was struggling and didn’t like the constant upheaval. And she looked after Mila. Because Mila was just the helpless little baby whom we had to keep safe.
My shoulders feel heavy as I remember how much I hated having Mila with us on that voyage. We needed to be quiet if we were to stay alive and surprise the Enhanced, and a baby is never quiet. She screamed and cried, and, more than once, the Enhanced found us because of her cries.
I remember how much I hated her. Until she was three years old, and she came toddling over to me one evening and swung a punch in the air and said, “I’m like Kee-Kee.”
My heart melted then.
But the four of us got through it. And we found Rahn’s group, just like our mother had told us to.
Rahn wasn’t happy with me that first week. They went on a raid. I stowed myself in the boot of one of the vehicles. I waited until they were gone, then I went on a killing spree. Rahn found me with the third body.
I smile. I’ve never seen him so furious.
He had strong words with me. They all did. They told me that it wasn’t safe to do that. Seeking out the Enhanced in a town and killing them only draws attention to us.
“You kill lone Enhanced, Keelie,” he told me that night, waggling a gnarled finger at me. “Or ones that are threatenin’ you, that are near our village, that can’t call backup immediately and kill you. You don’t set out to kill on raids. Raids are for supplies, resources. You need to blend in, get the gear, and get out of there as quickly as possible. Sure, you kill if there’s a problem, if you have to. But blendin’ in is the top priority.”
“But they deserve to die, each and every one of them.” I shouted his own survival lesson back at him. I’d learnt them all that very first day.
“Yes, they do. But we deserve to live more. And goin’ in and attackin’ like that is a death sentence. You need plans, you need people, you need a team if you’re goin’ to kill. It’s not somethin’ you do spontaneously, on a whim. Spontaneous gets you killed.”
He told the others I was damaged because of what I’d endured—I heard him talking. Said they had to wean me off seeking the Enhanced and killing them. That I was enjoying it too much.
Gradually, they turned my desire to kill the Enhanced into a need to keep fit. I started running a lot, and then fighting competitively with the men, and—when they thought I was ready to hold a firearm among them—improving my aim in shooting with a gun.
It seems so long ago now, a lifetime ago, but also like yesterday. My memories of it are both sharp and a haze, all at once. And, if I concentrate long enough, I can feel it.
Feel the euphoria.
And you loved the kill.
We clear Mila’s things out of our hut. Me, Bea, and Elf. We take her bed out first, and Katya and a couple of the men say they’ll sort it. I don’t know what they mean by that.
I kneel in the space where Mila’s bed was. I look at all her belongings.
I know I’m not supposed to dwell on death, that when an Untamed dies, the survivors have to keep going—otherwise the Enhanced have won.
But this is different.
The blood is on my hands this time.
Bea gathers up Mila’s toys, and then she puts Mila’s fairy wings on. They’re the wings that Kayden stole on a raid for Mila once. I remember how threatened Bea felt for a while, as if Kayden was trying to become Mila’s parent.
But he didn’t.
Mila only adored one person in that way, and that was our older sister.
Bea grabs her ear defenders and gathering bag, and then runs outside, still wearing the fairy wings. I hear her anguished cries. Elf goes out after her a moment later. I don’t miss the look he gives me though, before he does. It says: this is your fault.
My fault.
My fault.
My fault.
“She’ll be back in a bit,” Elf says, returning. “Probably just a short walk.”
I think time has passed, but I’ve been sitting here, staring at the doll in my hands. Mila’s doll, Straw Hair. It’s wearing little clothes that Bea made out of an old shirt. Bea made a lot of clothes for Straw Hair. Once, Mila insisted she make sportswear for her doll so she could go running, and Elf told me that Mila was obviously copying me, wanting to be like me.
Or wanting a connection.
Looking at the doll makes me feel strange.
Like I should cry.
But my eyes are dry. So dry.
So are Elf’s. We don’t cry. Not like Bea.
I wait for Bea to return. Wait and wait. I stare at her calendar on the wall. Alan got it for her on a raid—he gets one each year for her, because Bea likes to know the date, and she always has it proudly on display.
When it’s dark, I start to worry. Elf’s asleep, and I don’t wake him. I head out, alone, looking for her. I know most of her mountain walks, but not as well as she does, and I head out with just my Swiss army knife on me.
I call her name, over and over.
It�
�s cold and I wrap my fleece around me, think I imagine shapes in the gathering darkness. I kick at loose stones, then jump at the grating sounds they make as they tumble over the rough ground.
“Bea!” My voice gets hoarse.
By the time I’ve walked all of her routes and scoured the area, shouting her name, the sun is rising. I’m shaking with cold and fatigue, bleary-eyed, and nauseous. It seems to take me ages to walk back to Nbutai. But as I focus on the outlines of the huts getting stronger, I convince myself that Bea will be in our hut. That she’ll have been there all night. That I’ll just have missed her. That’s all.
“Keelie?” Alan’s on fire duty, and he stares at me. He’s one of the oldest men at Nbutai, with deep lines carved into his beautiful, dark skin. Grandfatherly, that’s how a lot of people think of him. “You’ve been out all night?” He looks surprised.
See? People don’t even realize when you’re gone.
“Is Bea here?” I ask, but I don’t wait for his answer.
I pull back the drape on our hut, head inside.
My heart gets heavier before my eyes have a chance to adjust.
Her bed is still empty.
I stare at the place where my motorbike should be. At the dry, beaten ground. At the way the orange dust clings to my shoes.
She’s gone.
And she’s taken my motorbike. The bike she’d never ride…not with me, anyway. Once I saw her on it with Elf. So she knows how to drive it? And she got it away from here, without anyone hearing or seeing….
My vision swims, and I take a step back, right into Five’s arms. She holds me for a moment.
“It’s okay,” she whispers.
“No, it’s not,” Elf snaps, and Five’s eyes widen. “Anything could’ve happened out there. It’s dangerous.”
“Look, she goes off on her own a lot. To collect her plants,” Rahn says, striding forward. He inspects the ground, but there are no tire marks. I’ve already checked.
“But she doesn’t take the bike.” I say. “And she tells us where she’s going then. And she’s quick because…” Because she has to get back for Mila.
Only now she doesn’t.
I take several deep breaths, but I find myself shaking more with each one.
Bea’s never gone off on her own like this before. Never taken my bike. Never been out a whole night.
I turn, feeling sick. What was it she said to me? That she didn’t feel safe here? And I didn’t do much—if anything—to reassure her. I pretty much ignored her. I was too caught up in my argument with Elf. And we were shouting, and we never shout around Bea and—
Dread clings to my frame, tries to drag me down.
I wasn’t there for her.
And now she’s run away….
My vision swims, and I blink quickly, feel ice in my fingers.
Yani and Corin are running toward us.
“Her ear defenders are gone, and her gathering bag too,” Corin says. “But she doesn’t seem to have taken much food with her. Marouska thinks only a couple of tins are missing.”
“So, a quick excursion then,” Rahn says, folding his arms. “She’ll be back.”
The knot of unease in my stomach grows. “No. She’s been out all night. And with no weapons.”
“It’s out of character,” Five says quietly.
I take a step forward, toward Rahn. “Give me the keys for a truck. We need to go after her.”
But he shakes his head. “If it’s not a quick excursion, then leavin’ suddenly with no warnin’, not tellin’ people, and takin’ only a little food, points to one thing: joinin’ the Enhanced.”
“What?” I exclaim, my head spinning.
“No,” Yani says, his voice firm, and I flash him a grateful look. “Bea wouldn’t do that.”
“She’s grieving,” Corin says. He glances at me quickly, then away. “She’ll just be out in the mountains, somewhere.”
Rahn points at Five. “Get your brother on the radios. Listen out for a conversion announcement. Do it now.”
Five nods, then looks at me. “You all right if I go?”
Rahn glares at us. I nod, and Five leaves, but I know they won’t hear anything. Of course Bea hasn’t decided to join the Enhanced. No, she’s out there. Alone. Grieving. And anything could happen—hell, the Enhanced could get her, like they got Mila… Visions of them ambushing her fill my mind, and I gulp.
“Rahn, we need to go after her, need to look for her. She’s vulnerable. You know what grief can do to people.” I glance at Corin. I’ve heard how he was a mess after his parents died. He disappeared for two days. Rahn had everyone out looking for him. And when someone’s grieving, how observant are they going to be? Would Bea notice the Enhanced creeping up on her?
But Rahn stamps his foot, shakes his head with vigor. “I’m not wastin’ resources lookin’ for her.”
“Seriously?” I say. “You’re doing this again?”
“Doin’ what?” His voice is low.
“Displaying prejudice.”
Through his dark glasses, I catch what I think are the whites of his eyes flashing. “It’s likely she’s gone to join the Enhanced. All the signs point to that.”
“She hasn’t.” Yani takes a deep breath, and my gaze snaps to him. He looks at the ground for a second, then swallows hard. “She’s not coming back,” he says at last, but I detect the pain in his voice.
I stare at him. “What?”
Corin steps closer to him.
“She told me…yesterday. That she was leaving. Trying to find others. A safer group.”
My mouth dries. “You didn’t try and stop her?”
“And you didn’t tell us?” Elf demands. “You didn’t think that we should know?”
“She made me promise,” Yani says, pushing his blond hair back. “She wanted me to go with her, but I….”
“So you let her go out there on her own?” I point up toward the steepest part of the Titian Mountains, feeling sicker and sicker. “Have you any idea how many predators are out there? And you let her go.”
“She said she couldn’t stay here. I had to respect that.”
“There’s a difference between respecting someone and saving their life.” I shake my head hard. Something in my left ear clicks, and I point at Rahn. “Give me the keys to a truck. I’m getting her back now.”
But before Rahn can speak, Yani clears his throat.
“What?” I bark at him. “Is there more?”
He hunkers his shoulders a little. The body language of guilt, I think. Well, good, he deserves to feel guilty.
“She thinks there are other Untamed about,” he says. “Because of that woman and baby we found. She thinks there must be more like that, and she’s good at tracking. She’s confident she can find them.” He grips his hands together, then twists them, as if he’s washing them. “She’s heading north. And she told me if she can’t find them, she’s still not coming back. She doesn’t feel safe here.”
“Well then,” I say. “We know which way to go.”
Rahn coughs. “Absolutely not. Bea has clearly decided my leadership cannot keep her safe and would prefer another group. She ain’t welcome here anymore.”
I swear at him and storm back to my hut. My survival bag, I need it. If Rahn thinks I’m giving up on Bea, then he’s got another thing coming. I’ve lost one sister. I will not lose another.
Especially when it’s my fault.
Elf races after me.
“You coming too?” I look up at him as I grab my survival bag.
“Of course.” He sounds annoyed. “Did you really need to ask?”
I clear my throat and—
And I see it.
At the end of Bea’s bed. Our mother’s butterfly necklace. How didn’t I notice it before? She’s gone without it.
I snatch it up quickly, stuff it into my survival bag. Bea needs it to feel safe. She’s left it behind by mistake.
Or she was planning on coming back? I frown, breathing
hard. Not according to Yani. No, she must’ve forgotten this and only remembered when she was too far away.
“You going to get the keys for a truck?” Elf asks me.
I nod, swinging my bag onto my back. Think I’ve got everything.
“No need,” a new voice says.
Nico stands in the doorway, keys in his hand.
My eyes narrow.
“I’m coming too,” he says. “Yani’s told me. He’s going to stay here in case Bea returns. But you need at least three people to get someone back. Extraction, distraction, and backup. One on each.”
“It’s not a rescue mission,” I say. “And if it was, one on each would not work. Be far too dangerous.”
“But safety is still in numbers. And you need three at least. A driver, a lookout, and—”
“And you?” I snort, and all my earlier animosity toward him intensifies.
Nico waves his hand at me and Elf. “You two are grieving. You need someone level-headed.”
“And that someone’s you?” I raise my eyebrows.
“I’m the one with the keys to a truck right now.” He glares at me. “Yani’s getting some food ready for us. And a radio too. Elf, see if you can get weapons. And Keelie, I suggest you check with Katya that she’s had no warning about us going out.”
I stare at him. He’s giving me orders? Telling me what to do? I shift my weight so it’s more evenly distributed across both of my legs. I glare at him.
Elf looks at me quickly, then sidles past me. “We need to find Bea,” is all he says as he leaves the hut.
I glare at Nico. “Fine.”
I wait for him to move.
“I’m sorry about before,” he begins.
I shake my head, hold one hand up. “Not now. Let’s just go.”
But Nico grabs my arm. He steps closer, and the strong smell of smoke washes over me. “But there’ll never be a right time, will there? Keelie, I love you. And we have to talk about this—”
“I said not now. Some things are more important.”
He nods.
A Dangerous Game Page 22