by Eve Langlais
“I don’t know what kind of doctor you have, but with the right remedy, scars can be removed.”
“Ain’t no cream can fix that. It’s your magic.”
“If I had that kind of magic, don’t you think I would have fixed this?” She angled her cheek at him. Angry. And so wrong about the look of it.
As if he cared. He shook his head at her. They’d really done a mental wash on her. What would it take for her to grasp that what she did was special?
“You’re beautiful to me.” When she would have turned away, he cupped her face and made her look at him. He rather liked her eyes with their hazel centers flecked with gold. “I think you’re beautiful.”
“And I think I’m going to puke,” drawled a deep voice. “Grab ’em!”
Thirteen
Sofia could have borrowed some of Gunner’s curse words at the interruption. The intensity of Gunner’s gaze, knowing of the pleasure that might follow the kissing…
Gunner murmured, “Stick close while I handle our company.”
After what she’d had to do lately, she was more than happy to let him deal with it.
He used his body to partially shield her from the two men in front of them. Burly fellows wearing strange half-pants made of a dark, coarse fabric that ended loosely at the knees. Leathery vests covered their bare chests and did little to cover the piercings. From the nose on the freckled one with spiked reddish hair to rings dangling from the nipples on the dark-skinned man.
More worrisome, they each held a weapon. A gun for Freckles and a curved dagger for Rings.
“Keep your hands where I can see them.” Freckles had a guttural way of speaking.
Gunner still had his sword, but he held his hands out to his sides, as if trying to appear benign. Would these men show strangers any mercy? She’d always heard of the Wasteland Rats being murderous people. Braun certainly was, yet Gunner proved far from it. There was obviously more than one type.
And these ones looked particularly rough. The animal hanging from the belt on Freckles especially chilled because she’d not seen any signs yet of her cat. She worried something fierce about Kitty. In the morning light, she’d searched every visible inch of the mountain face from the opening where water had stopped running, all the way down, hoping to see her nimble feline. Nothing. The rising dawn showed the tops of lush trees submerged by the enlarged lake that coasted from the waterfall. A new shoreline had been created, muddy already and showing signs of growth. Farther from it, where they’d spent the night, stunted trees, dry and brittle, the reason why they’d not seen the two men sneaking up on them.
“Morning,” Gunner said, still pretending he wasn’t worried.
Rings snorted. “Not so good for you now that we’ve interrupted your tryst.” He leered, and she tucked closer to Gunner.
“Your timing could have been better,” Gunner admitted wryly. “But I’m glad to see you. I don’t suppose you can tell me where we are. I don’t recognize this area. What part of Emerald is this?”
“Emerald?” Freckles guffawed and spat. “This ain’t that Enclave queen’s land. You’re in the Marshlands now, and the king will reward us richly for bringing him foreign spies.”
“We’re not spies,” Sofia exclaimed. “We came here by accident.”
“Sure ya did,” Rings drawled. “Except for the fact there ain’t no approved road in this direction, meaning you skipped the checkpoint and the mountain pass tolls.”
“We were caught in a storm and lost our way,” Gunner interjected smoothly. “We would be more than happy to be shown the correct path.”
“We’ll show you all right,” Freckles snickered. “Even give you a ride.”
“That’s nice of you, but we prefer to walk. My woman likes to collect plants.”
“And yet she doesn’t have a bag, or even shoes.” An astute observation.
“The storm.” Gunner shrugged. “We lost just about everything when it viciously shoved us into the lake.”
“A likely story from spies. Hand over your weapons.”
Freckles aimed the gun at Gunner, and she felt him tense. Still, he pulled the sword free from the straps holding it and knelt to place it on the ground.
It was Rings who said, “The knives too.”
Gunner pulled his other blade but not the one hidden in his boot. No one even looked at her, and she kept her hands by her sides lest they try and disarm her as well.
“Hands on your head,” Freckles ordered. “Tie ’em up.”
“With what?” Rings snorted. “The rope’s in the truck.”
The mention caught Gunner’s attention, not that he said anything. He laced his hands over his head as ordered.
“You, woman, hands on your head, too.”
While she wondered at Gunner’s plan, she obeyed, quickly placing her hands on her crown. She hoped the hilt of her knife wouldn’t peek from her waist, where it remained tucked under the vine belt, hidden by the loose folds of her shirt and pants.
Something cracked in the forest, drawing Freckles’ attention, but not Rings’. He sidled close to Gunner and whispered, “Move the wrong way, and I will gut you.”
“Did you see that?” Freckles asked, frowning off in the distance.
“See what? There ain’t nothing in those woods.”
“I don’t know. I thought I seen something.” Freckles glanced to the lake. “King is going to want to know about the water getting so high.” He pointed. “Maybe they weren’t lying and there was a storm.”
“Either way, they’re coming with us.” Rings shoved Gunner. “Get walking.”
She wondered if she should be insulted the men didn’t pay her any attention and just expected her to follow. Given she didn’t want to remain here alone, or get murdered, she did.
Gunner had yet to act, meaning he probably had a plan. Or so she hoped. This new man, with his beautiful blue eyes, wasn’t the same one she’d gotten to know. He walked with a casual swagger. Appeared so unconcerned he managed to look over his shoulder at her and offer a wink.
A wink, as if they were on a merry stroll.
Yet she had to admit his ease helped with the fear that kept her muscles taut with tension.
As they walked, Freckles and Rings discussed the new lake.
“Water hasn’t been this high since my father was a lad,” Freckles announced.
“Fucking lake buried my patch of weed.”
Rings snorted. “Shit stank.”
“Because it was potent,” Freckles insisted. “Now what am I supposed to trade?”
“Grow a new one. It’s not like it takes long to sprout.”
“I guess.” Freckles glanced in the direction of the water that she saw occasionally through the trees.
The scraggly bushes thickened, the dry branches tugging at skin and clothes. When she cried out as a sharp stick snarled in her hair, Gunner whirled, his expression creased in concern.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
“She’s fucking fine.” Freckles shoved him and waved his gun. “Keep your ass moving.”
“Don’t worry about your sweetheart. I’ll take good care of her,” Rings said with a low chuckle. He wrapped his fingers around her arm and forced her through the roughest scrub.
By the time they emerged from the forest, she was covered in scratches, surely had bruises from the fingers gripping her, and had closed her ears to the vile things Rings kept whispering he’d do to her. She knew Gunner heard them, too, from the way his spine stiffened.
Parked in front of them was a vehicle with the back open. It had an enclosed cab and a huge hood.
That drew a whistle from Gunner. “Is that a combustion engine?”
“It’s a steam engine, meaning it uses water, the cheapest fuel around.” Rings was the one to sing the praises of his truck. He shoved her at the passenger door. “Get in and sit in the middle. Don’t touch anything.”
She glanced at Gunner. He gave her a slight nod.
“Don’t loo
k at him. My brother was talking to you.” Freckles cuffed her, and she tasted blood as her teeth cut the inside of her lip. She scrambled into the truck and perched on the long bench, looking around for a weapon. She held off pulling her knife. She didn’t want to show her hand too soon.
“No hitting the girl,” Rings grumbled, “or I’ll hit you.”
“And that’s why Da always called you soft. You, pretty boy, get your ass in the back,” Freckles ordered with a thick jab of his finger.
“I’ll grab the rope,” Rings declared.
The truck jostled, and a peek over her shoulder showed Gunner clambering in, Rings behind him. And then Rings was flying!
Gunner kicked the man, who flew off the back of the vehicle, startling a yell from Freckles.
The truck bounced as Gunner jumped down, and then she couldn’t see. Despite the orders, she scrambled from the cab in time to see the fight. While Freckles groaned on the ground, Gunner hit Rings, somehow dodging the knife he still held in his hand.
She gasped as a slice of the blade drew blood on Gunner’s arm then cried out again when Freckles tripped Gunner, sending him down hard.
She should help him. She drew her knife and moved in to offer aid just as Gunner scissored his legs, toppling Rings. Freckles aimed his gun, about to fire. She opened her mouth to scream a warning, running with her knife out, knowing she’d never arrive in time, when Freckles suddenly flew forward.
The gun went off, but it hit nothing. She didn’t worry about Freckles getting back up because help had arrived in the form of a large feline, currently chewing on the man.
“Kitty!” she squealed.
Then winced as blood spurted. She glanced at Gunner to see he’d subdued Rings. She didn’t see blood, but the sightless eyes and the odd angle of his neck let her know he wouldn’t be doing any of the vile things he’d suggested.
He stood and surveyed the scene before his gaze went to her. His lips quirked. “I told you Kitty would find us.”
Relieved, she threw herself at him, and he caught her. She hugged him and laughed. “Did you plan this all along?”
“Well, once I realized they had transportation, it occurred to me to let them lead us to it rather than stumble around. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather ride than walk.”
“Where will we go?” she asked.
“That is a fine question.” He turned her around so they faced away from the forest. “It doesn’t look like the forest has much to offer. Which is why I’m suggesting we follow the road they drove in on.” He pointed to the faint rutted track.
She bit her lower lip. “Is it safe?”
“Nothing is safe, sweetheart. But staying here…” He sighed. “We could try and possibly survive. There’s water. Fish.”
“But you want to go back to your friends.”
“I want more than to just survive.” He shrugged. “I want a real bed. A blanket.”
“How will we find them? We don’t even know where we are.”
“No, and I realize we might never find my friends or Haven again. The wind and that flood may have taken us too far. But…” He turned her around. “Together we can find a new place to call home. New people to be our friends and family.”
The use of “we” had her heart stuttering.
“What do you say?” he asked softly.
Feeling bold, she lifted on tiptoe to brush her lips over his. “I say yes.”
He groaned and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground, deepening the kiss.
Arousal flared inside her. He’d seen her. Seen her with her scar. Seen her with her hair a tumbled mess and mud coating her face, yet he still kissed her. And they might have done more if Kitty didn’t meow.
She pulled away from him, breathless and tingling. “I should check on Kitty.”
“You do that while I handle the bodies.”
By handle, he meant drag them into the woods where they wouldn’t be easily seen. He also stripped them of weapons, tucking the gun in his pants and putting the sword in the truck.
She spent a moment checking over Kitty. Her feline appeared in good health except for the gash along her hindquarter. A reminder of the soldiers they’d fought. It was healing well, but as soon as she encountered some ingredients, she’d make a salve to hurry it along.
If Kitty let her. The feline batted at her when she tried to inspect it too closely.
“Fine. But don’t come meowing at me if it leaves a scar,” Sofia grumbled.
“Scars are badges of honor,” Gunner said, his stealthy steps bringing him close enough to startle.
“Not all of them.” She didn’t touch the one on her cheek, but she was aware of it.
“Are you ready? We should get going while it’s daylight.” The morning waned.
“I guess.” She sighed, glancing behind her.
He murmured, “We’ll find a new home. I promise.”
Despite him holding the door to the truck open, Kitty jumped into the back. She didn’t seem to mind the random equipment and made herself comfortable. Sofia climbed into the passenger’s side, and Gunner swung into the driver seat.
He spent a moment fiddling with the dash, which had wires sticking out of it, holes that lacked buttons, and a general air of disrepair.
“Do you know to work it?” she asked.
“It’s a truck. I’ll figure it out.” He gave her a quick smile. “If we’re lucky, it will start when I press the button.”
To her surprise, the vehicle rumbled to life, vibrating the seat under her. “Speaking of luck, good thing Kitty showed up when she did.”
“I knew she would. She’s a smart cat. She was biding her time.”
The reply had her blinking. “You mean you knew she was there?”
Gunner glanced at her and shrugged. “Yes. I saw her footprints around our camp. Didn’t you? She marked it during the night to warn predators away.”
“What do you mean marked?”
“She peed. All around us. Basically told anything out there that we’re her pets.”
She glanced in the back at Kitty, sprawled and already asleep as the truck continued to growl. The engine popped and shook, the whole machine shivering.
“If she was around, then why did she wait so long to attack?”
“Because I signaled for her to wait.” He winked.
“I can’t believe the pair of you planned that. You could have told me,” Sofia grumbled.
“We didn’t exactly have time. Once I knew they had a truck, we changed the plan.”
“What’s the plan now?”
“Drive until we find a place we can bargain for supplies.”
“Bargain with what?”
He shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll get lucky and find something of value on the way.”
“We can’t rely on luck,” she insisted.
“Why not?”
“Because,” she sputtered.
“What if I said that luck is pretty good? We’re in the Marshlands? Which, if my information is correct, are part of the Sapphire domain, which rules by the sea.” He grinned at her. “I’ve never seen the ocean. You?”
She gaped at him. “We can’t just wander around in the open. What if we’re seen? Maybe we should stay in the woods.”
“But there’s nothing in the woods. Aren’t you curious at all?”
Yes, but what she said was, “There are rules about moving between the kingdoms. You heard those men. There are tolls to pay. Permissions to ask.”
“So we go get permission.”
“From who?” she blinked.
“Whoever’s in charge, I guess. Our friends implied there was a city. And I’m wondering if it’s the same one I’ve heard about that caters to the free folk.”
“Free how?”
“No Enclave. No Emerald queen or her Centurions.”
“You keep saying Emerald. Is that where you’re from?”
“Gonna guess by the question that you’re not.” He went silent for
a moment. “Which city were you banished from?”
“Ruby. But the Enclave rules us all.”
“That they do.” He glanced at her, ignoring the empty road. “Ever wonder what it would be like to live in a place where the Enclave isn’t in charge?”
The question, spoken softly, hesitantly, mirrored an old fantasy of hers. “I want to believe there is somewhere you can live however you choose. Not be forced into a job. Not be told you have to serve people who disrespect you. A place where you can be friends with whoever you like.” She didn’t say the next part but thought it. Be intimate with whomever you please.
Even in an unknown place with danger lurking, she felt happier and more alive than she ever recalled being.
“For me, it’s hard to imagine having my life so severely regimented.”
Her lips quirked. “While I used to not be able to grasp how anyone could survive in the Wasteland.”
“A trick of the Enclave because, by telling you what to believe, they control you.”
“Not anymore,” she said with a smile. She was free.
The idea had never fully sunk in before.
Free.
How absolutely terrifying.
It didn’t escape her notice that they didn’t have much. Then again, she’d had even less the last time she found herself without a home.
Now she had friends. She glanced behind at Kitty, who slept with her head on her paws, and then Gunner. The strong profile. The capable hands. The grin he tossed her. He also winked.
“We’re going to take it one day at a time. Together.”
The word repeated as she stared out the window at the flat plains they drove across. Most of it appeared dry without even stunted trees to adorn it. Only cracks, the kind that happened when the ground got so very dry that it contracted.
The track they followed had worn grooves into the hard-packed dirt. It still kicked up a bit of dust as they followed it.
Nothing else appeared. Not a single structure or other vehicle.
The landscape proved monotonous and dull while the motion of the truck lulled. When she woke, it took her a bit to realize her head rested in his lap.