by Patti Larsen
Reid turns to see Cole handing out food, Alex helping him. The little boy looks dazed but the gash on his forehead has stopped bleeding.
“Thought it would be a good idea,” Cole says.
Reid nods. “Very good.” He considers giving Cole a hard time about earlier but just can’t muster the anger required. It’s all focused on Syracuse.
“There’s more.” Cole looks back over his shoulder. “The first aid kit is with the other cache.”
Reid hesitates. Then shakes his head. It’s too dangerous. He is about to say so when Ashley grabs his arm.
“I saw someone die.” Her fingernails dig into his arm. “A boy, just a kid. We were dropped together. He was, like, twelve or something. Just a kid.” She is shaking again, endless tremors that drive her nails even deeper into his skin but he doesn’t pull away. He knows her terror and is determined to help her through it, if only to thank her for telling him what he needed to know. “This man, he… he had a knife.” Reid could see her mind shying from the truth and let it. “He… the boy. He cut the boy.” She is sobbing silently now, leaning over, clutching her own stomach as if holding herself will keep reality in. “He died.” She gulps air and collapses back against the tree. “There was so much blood.”
Leila strokes her hair and meets Reid’s eyes. There is so much sympathy in her gaze Reid wonders how any of them could have that much compassion left over. But he does, too. The tragedy of it all is so crystal clear in that moment Reid wants to do a little quiet sobbing himself.
He finally turns back to tell Cole it’s not worth it. They have enough to survive, to keep searching for the gate. But when he goes looking, the boy is gone.
Milo looks so guilty Reid grabs his shoulders and shakes him.
“He wouldn’t listen!” Milo doesn’t fight him, just crumples like he’s broken. “Marcus went with him.”
Reid’s heart takes a massive jump, that single beat so loud and powerful he feels faint. He is up and running before he can recover, but already knows it’s too late.
There’s only one reason the hunters would let them get away with retrieving food. To give them a false sense of security and make them brave enough to try again. It has to be a trap.
And Cole and Marcus are heading right for it.
***
Chapter Twenty Three
Reid slinks through the dark on the way to the last cache. The remaining glow from the fire has dimmed as the building crumbles in on itself. He gags on a waft of smoke that the breeze carries to him and freezes when the whole side of the station gives way with a rumble and hiss of sparks. The light rises again briefly and Reid takes a good look around.
The hunters are gone. Nothing moves but what’s left of the fire. He refuses to let his eyes settle on the four small bodies, tossed aside like over used toys and left to rot on the street. He can’t mourn them yet, can’t think about sweet little Megan with her enormous eyes and her squeaking mouse voice. He has two idiots to chase down first.
He eases around the side of the house he uses for cover and traces his path through its shadow all the way around the back. The tree line starts almost immediately but he avoids the woods, keeping low and close. The place Cole showed him on the rough map is right next door, the back porch sheathed in darkness. He waits and listens and it’s not long before he’s rewarded for his patience.
Cole and Marcus slide out of the dark and briefly through a patch of light that shines between the two houses. They are heading right for Reid so he waits for them, watching their backs, something they fail to do. And that’s why they miss the hunter who oozes out of the night behind them, its sharp teeth bared in a smile, one clawed hand raised to attack.
Reid has no choice if he wants to save them, not thinking or considering what he is doing will most likely get him killed. He leaps from the shadow of the house and into the light himself, ignoring Cole and Marcus who gape at him like he’s lost his mind. Because he’s sure he has when he gives the hunter the finger and laughs out loud, adrenaline surging through his body.
“Over hear, freak!”
He doesn’t wait to see if it follows him but runs instead, praying it’s enough, that Cole and Marcus are able to escape, that the hunter will take the insult personally and go after him.
He knows he’s succeeded when he hears Cole call after him.
“Reid! Run!”
Like he’s not already. But his instincts take that information and force him to change course. And just in time. He feels a whoosh of air rush by his face, sees a flash of a claw in the streetlight. Close, so close. But he is still unharmed and able so he runs on.
He swerves between two houses and into the dark again, rapidly finding a new direction while he hears a chuffing of air behind him. The hunter is so close he can smell the blood on its breath.
Reid is dead. One more step and the hunter will have him.
“Over here, ugly!”
Marcus. Reid sees the guy appear out of the corner of his eye, waving his arms at them, just on the edge of the light.
Reid jumps on the moment of distraction and uses it. He spins and goes back the way he came as the hunter rushes past him, missing yet again. Reid dodges between two cars and down the side of the driveway, throwing himself into a patch of bushes. He squirms under them, to the next yard and comes face to face with a parked car. The trunk is open a bit and, on impulse, he dives in and pulls the lid shut behind him.
Reid leaves just enough of a gap to see through, cursing himself for letting the hunter corner him like this. He shifts position gently, feels something dig into his hip and wriggles around until he can lift it free. The tire iron sparkles in the thin light filtering through the gap.
At least he has a weapon. Two, actually. His fingers find and release the knife he dug out of the dirt in the mine. He considers it before putting it back in his pocket. The tire iron will do. Not like he expects to survive this fight anyway.
He is panting and only then realizes how loud his breathing is. Reid forces himself to slow his inhales, trying to calm his pounding heart at the same time. But fear won’t let him. It only gets worse when he hears the soft scrape of something hard against the top of the trunk, like fingernails over a chalkboard. The hunter chuffs softly through the gap, taunting him. He can smell it now, the musk of it, mixed with the scent of old blood and death.
Reid can’t stand it anymore. He grips the iron with both hands and draws a breath to yell a battle cry when the trunk whips open and the hunter is there, grinning down at him.
Reid strikes without hesitation, the thick tube of steel taking the creature on the temple. It goes down with a grunt of surprise, collapsing half in the trunk with him. He scrambles over it, sneakers digging into its ribcage for leverage, while it tries to claw at him and haul him back. But blood is gushing from its head and it can’t seem to get its weight under it.
Reid lands hard on the pavement, turning and hitting it again on the backs of the knees. Once. Twice. The third time drives it down to the ground beside him, silver eyes staring up into his as he beats it again and again.
The light flickers in its eyes at last and goes out. As it does, the hunter’s body collapses into a heap of dust, glittering briefly in the bit of moonlight above. Reid collapses next to the remains, a wash of the stuff flying in his face, sucked deeply into his aching lungs as he fills them with air.
It’s like he’s been injected with super powers. Reid feels instantly calm and in control, his weary body full of energy again. Fire spreads through his body, but these flames are cold and full of power. He stares down at what’s left of the hunter and remembers another instance, when Leila killed the creature Joel sacrificed Reid to, and the miraculous recovery of his injuries after that.
He doesn’t have time to think about it any longer, to wonder about how his body is suddenly feeling. Marcus and Cole materialize out of the dark and grab him, hauling him bodily after them as they flee into the forest. Reid pulls away from them, high fr
om the rush of his returned vigor, and easily outruns them, wanting to shout in joy and laugh out loud as he leads them on, all the way back to the waiting kids.
***
Chapter Twenty Four
Leila is still comforting Ashley when Reid and the others get back. She leaps to her feet, staring at him, as if she knows something is different, but he ignores her and turns on the two who pant to a halt behind him.
“That was the dumbest thing you could have ever done.” Reid isn’t breathing heavy, to his delight. Whatever happened to him, whatever the dust of the hunters is, he feels fantastic. The bubbling laughter won’t leave him, vibrating through his whole body. It’s hard to be angry with them.
He doesn’t have to chastise any further. Cole looks devastated for him. “You saved our lives,” he says. “Again. I’m sorry.” Tears well, spill over. “I was so sure we could just get in and get out.”
“You did,” Reid says. “Because they let you.”
Even Marcus nods, face grim, at that truth.
“Thank you,” Reid turns to Marcus, relishing the shocked look on his face. It’s impulsive and a part of him tells him he’s stupid, but Reid just grins.
“For what?” Marcus’s sullen expression returns almost immediately.
“For saving my life. If you hadn’t distracted the hunter, I’d be dead.”
Marcus doesn’t say anything for a long time. Finally, he nods. “You first,” he says.
Reid can’t help himself. His good mood is like a virus infecting everything about him, driving him forward. He punches Marcus lightly on the shoulder and grins at him.
Marcus, hesitant, grins back.
An uneasy truce, then. Reid will take it. Even if he’ll never trust Marcus for a moment. Ever.
Ashley is on her feet, looking at Reid like he’s some kind of hero. “You saved me from them.” She looks fierce, the last of her tears dried. “Thanks.”
His grin never wavers. “You can thank me all you want,” he says. “But there’s only one way to make it right.”
She just looks at him funny, like she doesn’t get it. Fair enough. He’ll explain it to her. To all of them. Already a plan is forming in his head and he can’t wait to put it into action.
But, it’s like no one heard him. They are all stirring, getting ready to leave. He lets them gather themselves, their old fear new again, ready to run on. Why all of a sudden is he just noticing what fools they are?
Milo finally says what everyone is thinking.
“We need to move,” Milo says. “The hunters will be coming.”
They are already gathered to head out without his prompting. All but Reid. He stands there, looking down at his hands, feeling the power running through him. It’s starting to fade, the feeling, the cold fire that fuels his laughter, that shoves aside his fear. But he remembers it easily, longs for it, even as it goes away. That and the thrill of killing a hunter with his own hands.
“I’m tired of running.” Reid turns to them and smiles while they all stop and stare. They’ll listen this time. He knows it. They can’t help but trust him now. And his plan is so simple, so perfect, it makes complete sense. “You were right. All of you were right.” They look at him like he’s lost his mind. He just shakes his head and shrugs. “We can’t win if we’re worn out. That’s their weapon. Using fear to chase us down and make us weak. Then tear away any hope we have of finding shelter or peace, even for a little while.”
“We saw how well hiding did us,” Marcus says. “First the mine, then the town.” The kids murmur their agreement. Reid breathes in deeply, missing the tingle in his lungs from the strange powder that the hunter became, unable to remove the soft curve from his lips, the happiness rising inside him at the thought of turning things around.
“I’m not talking about hiding, not just for the sake of it, that is.” Again they stare. “I’m talking about taking a stand.”
Cole’s grin is fierce despite the fear that chases it. “You want to take this to them.”
Reid laughs. “They can die. We’ve killed three of them already. Leila, the first time. The one in the mine.” Though they didn’t, even if Reid is sure it must have died after they stoned it. “And now that one back there.” He waves behind him, vague. But it’s all that’s necessary. The casualness of it. Like it’s so easy to simply beat a hunter to death with a tire iron.
Of course it is. Reid’s boiling blood tells him so. And while the song of the dust is fading, the message remains.
Reid’s hands fall to his side and he feels the lump in his pocket. He pulls out the knife, flipping it open. The blade catches the moonlight like the claws of the hunters and he holds it up for them to see.
“They want us to run so they can wear us down,” he says. “They want us to hide so they can break us when they destroy the safety we’ve made for ourselves. But they don’t expect us to do what we need to do now. The only thing they’ve left to us.” He flips the knife closed and squeezes it in his fist while the kids gather around him, as if they can absorb what drives him to win.
“I’m done,” Reid says, “with their games and their mazes, with them treating us like meat. It’s time to claim this ground, right here. To take back our lives and make them pay. To show them we won’t go down without taking them with us.”
Shining eyes watch him, glowing with the passion that takes him over, fed by his emotions. They are with him, he can feel it. “From this moment on, we run only to lead them to us. We hide as a tool to make them think they’ve won. And when we have them where we want them, we will take the battle to them.” They clutch at him, hands touching his clothing, brushing over his body like a benediction. He welcomes them, their adoration, their need to be led, and embraces the energy they surround him with.
Reid’s soul swells and heals as he looks at them and knows the moment has come to stand their ground.
“I’m done running and hiding,” he says. “It’s time to fight.”
# # #
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***
Check out this sample of the exciting sequel
Book Three of The Hunted Series
Fight
time to stand your ground
***
Chapter One
The forest is so familiar Reid is almost comfortable perched on the limb of the tree he’s chosen. Who would have thought six days ago he was safe and sound, living with his sister Lucy in her new and expensive apartment, no longer in foster care. It amazes him when he reflects on it and wonders if he’ll ever be comfortable indoors again.
He glances at the back of his hand where a small bug trundles with purpose across his skin to get to the other side. Birds sing softly in the midday heat, while the leaves above rustle from a passing wind. Reid feels a connection to the tree, like the sap flowing within it is his own blood. The song of the robin in the spruce next door is almost translatable into words. The fresh air swells his lungs, fills him with calm and purpose.
He’s a far cry from the drugged and kidnapped kid dumped in the darkened woods with no idea what was happening to him. He’s learned so much since that first night when he discovered he was there to be hunted by creatures who looked human but weren’t. Reid still remembers the dead stare of the first kid he saw, suspended from a tree, his entrails spread over the path, stinking like road kill.
He was so terrified he spent the next several days running. And hiding. Meeting other kids like him, almost dying a number of times, all for the pleasure of the hunters. Rats in a maze, that’s what the kids are. Ruled by terror and the need to get away.
Not anymore. Reid’s so done with that. He wonders what is happening to him that he’s changed so very much.
He feels different. Strong, steady. Powerful. His fear remains but most of it has left him, only a dull ache of anxiety lef
t behind. Compared to the terror he’s lived with the past six days, Reid finds the hint of it almost pleasant. He’s replaced it with excitement. The thrill of knowing he is acting instead of running or hiding.
Reid is finished with being a target.
His adrenaline spikes as the forest falls suddenly still. The robin wings away in the quiet, the rush of its departure almost a song in itself. Reid’s body tenses in anticipation. This is it, his plan come to fruition.
He can’t wait to kill another hunter, to feel it die at his hands, the soft hiss of its collapse as he ends its life. Reid doesn’t spare a second worrying what that says about his state of mind. They’ve created him, shaped him into what he’s become. And if killing them is the only way to survive, the hunters and their creators have done a fantastic job turning the tables on themselves.
The familiar tingle returns for a moment, the surge he felt when he inhaled the dust from the last dead hunter. Something about it feeds Reid’s body, gives him strength, heals his wounds. His lips split wide, teeth shining as he grins, heart pounding against his breast bone, this time not in fear but in pure joy at the thrill of fighting back. He knows he should be worried about it. Whatever is happening isn’t natural. He can almost hear Drew’s voice questioning him, while the chubby kid’s glasses flash in the light.
“What the hell is that stuff, anyway? And what’s it turning you into?”
Reid doesn’t have an answer for his dead friend and, not for the first time, suddenly wishes the boy was here. He has a sharp moment of loss all over again, as fresh as the day Drew died, crushed under the rockslide that sealed the kids inside the mine. Reid is surprised when tears actually well in his eyes and he has to swipe them away with the back of his hand. Everything he is feeling seems intensified, immediate. And yet, when he recognizes it, the emotion fades in favor of his intense need to strike back.