Compulsion

by Perrin Briar

  “WHAT?” Quinn said. “What is it?”

  Siren was stunned. She couldn’t say a word. She never thought she would see him again, especially not here of all places. She was just beginning to get used to living in Whitegate, just beginning to get used to being surrounded by people, to feel a part of the community.

  She was even beginning to allow herself to believe that everything that had happened in the past, everything that had befallen her for the past few weeks, had all been a dream, some terrific nightmare that she didn’t need give any credence to.

  But now, with this man here, the man who had killed her brother, she couldn’t allow herself to believe that any longer. She couldn’t. Now she felt an overriding sense of anger, a need for vengeance she could not ignore.

  This was a man who needed to be destroyed, needed to be punished for what he was, for what he had done. She immediately had a new goal: to destroy this man, to rip him limb from limb, to make him suffer for what he’d done to her brother, to turn him into mush, to-

  “What, Siren?” Quinn said. “What is it?”

  “Nothing,” Siren said. “Nothing.”

  Now that her initial shock was over, she needed to consider what her plan of action would be. It was difficult for her not to run at him now and tear him to pieces, but she didn’t, she daren’t. She retained her composure.

  How would she overcome him? How would she destroy him? How would she exact her revenge? It had to be painful, it had to be fitting. It needed to be something she could take advantage of as soon as the opportunity presented itself. It was a game, and she needed to play it safe until the right moment came along. She needed to be ready for it.

  But now was not the time for such thoughts. She needed to keep herself calm. There was only so much someone could do without knowing the details of the present situation.

  A part of Siren couldn’t believe he was still alive. Just what was he doing here? And why was he in cahoots with Greer? What were they doing meeting like this? Tears streamed from her eyes. She could hardly control herself. She was overcome with the need to rush out and strangle him, all plans to keep herself restrained out the window. Quinn was quick and reached out to grab her.

  “What are you doing?” Quinn hissed. “You want to die?”

  No, but she certainly wanted Hell’s Angel to die. She wasn’t in her right mind. Siren didn’t argue with him, didn’t make a response. She only wanted to rush out there and kill the man who had murdered her brother. It was her only mission.

  If she had been thinking clearly, she would have known it was a witless thing to do, and would result in not only her death, but Quinn’s too. But such things are only obvious when you are in your right frame of mind.

  Siren struggled, and fought against Quinn’s restraining arms that attempted to hold her in place. There was no way she was going to break it, never going to escape. She was trapped as Quinn pressed his weight upon her, keeping her down.

  They were face to face, Quinn on top, Siren on the ground. She couldn’t move. There was no mistaking the anger in Siren’s eyes. Her legs kicked and scrabbled for purchase, but Quinn was bigger and stronger than her. It wasn’t difficult for him to pin her in place.

  It was a silent fight, the desire not to be heard that kept their tongues still. They were both keenly aware of what awaited them on the other side of the foliage if they raised their voices, and the painful death that was associated with it.

  Neither of them was that stupid. They had no intention of committing suicide. There was no containing the fight only to themselves.

  “Get off me,” Siren hissed. “Let me up!”

  “No,” Quinn said. “I can’t do that.”

  “Let me up,” Siren said. “Now.”

  She felt the force and pressure in her own voice. They weren’t just words, but a command, and they were imbued with something, like runes on a talisman. They bent the universe to their will, and were as unbreakable as the word of a loyal and honest man.

  Then something bizarre began to happen. The grip on Siren’s arms and body began to weaken, slacken. Quinn was gradually releasing Siren, muscles unfurling. He was letting her go, knowing what would happen if he did so.

  Quinn seemed just as surprised as Siren herself. His eyes boggled, wide and bulbous. There was nothing but shock in them. Siren recognized the shock for what it was: of a man who could not believe what was happening. And yet it was his own body that was doing it.

  Siren could feel his muscles giving way before her own, like she was sapping his energy and using it for herself, using his strength against him. All it had taken was, what? A few forcefully said words?

  Confused by the situation, Siren had become distracted, a finger of doubt worming into her cloud of fury. Common sense was pervading her mind, and she realized how dangerous all this was, how she was putting her life in the hands of others, in the hands of the man who had mercilessly murdered her brother.

  She was still angry, but wasn’t ready to go on a suicide mission any longer. It turned out her scuffle with Quinn hadn’t gone completely unnoticed. Greer and Hell’s Angel had both turned, facing Siren and Quinn’s direction.

  Greer raised his knife, point facing Hell’s Angel’s neck. If he moved forward fast, just a twitch, he could sever a major artery on the man’s neck. Hell’s Angel hadn’t moved and just stood there. But his men had reacted. A dozen guns aimed at Greer’s head.

  “Who have you brought along with you?” Hell’s Angel said. “Thought you’d bring along a little help, did you?”

  “Me?” Greer said. “It’s not me. It’s you who brought them.”

  “With a dozen men at my back, why would I have need of them?” Hell’s Angel said.

  “An unknown ally in the bushes is worth a dozen known men, don’t you think?” Greer said.

  “I would agree with that,” Hells Angel said. “But where does that put us now?”

  “It puts us right where we were in the first place,” Greer said. “Me coming to tell you what we’ve found, and you giving me the supplies.”

  Hell’s Angel was silent a long time.

  “And what do we do with whoever is in the hedges?” he said.

  “What man in the hedges?” Greer said. “As far as I’m concerned it could just as easily be wildlife. What do you say we get on with this?”

  “Fine,” Hell’s Angel said. “Take your stinking supplies. I wouldn’t get used to receiving them for much longer. I’ll be telling the Merchant he’s wasting his time with you and your search. The Merchant is not a fool. You know what he can do. He might believe you now, but he won’t believe you forever. And I’ll see to it that he doesn’t.”

  The gang lashed ropes to Greer’s empty cart. Hell’s Angel got on his motorcycle, followed by his gang, and twisted the throttle. It roared and took off into the distance. Only once he was gone, along with their engines’ deafening roar, did Greer turn to Quinn and Siren’s hiding place.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “You can come out now. They’re gone.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  QUINN and Siren shared a look, eyes wide as dish plates. A shiver traversed their hearts. They had been discovered. What were they going to do now?

  Siren began to get to her feet, but Quinn silently placed his fingers on her shoulder, telling her to stay down. She wasn’t sure what his plan was, but it was better than what she had—nothing.

  Quinn slowly got to his feet, reminding Siren of the look of a young boy who was about to be chastised by his father, which, Siren supposed, was precisely what was about to happen.

  “Quinn,” Greer said, and Siren could hear the disappointment in his voice. “I should have known.”

  “You wouldn’t let me come with you, so I had to come up with a way to follow you anyway,” Quinn said.

  “And you did,” Greer said. “You were lucky the Raiders didn’t see you. What do you think would have happened if they had?”

  “They didn’t,” Quinn
said.

  “You’re going to have to tell me how you managed to follow me,” Greer said. “I don’t want anyone else to track me the way you managed to.”

  “I can’t believe you’ve been working with the Raiders,” Quinn said. “And the Merchant? Who’s that? And the Skill? What is going on here?”

  Greer took a deep breath, exhaled, and let it out.

  “I suppose there’s no good in keeping this from you any longer,” he said. “You already know too much.”

  He walked over and sat on the log Quinn was standing behind. Quinn climbed over and took a seat beside him. To his credit, he didn’t look back at Siren. Their voices were as clear to Siren as if they had been sitting right beside her.

  “As you know, we set up this community a little under two years ago,” Greer said. “In the beginning, we weren’t doing so well. There wasn’t enough food, too many people, and the elements were entirely against us. The Raiders, the Grayskins, even the animals, seemed to have their heart set on destroying us. The rain washed out our farm produce, suffocating it. Our traps were poor and caught little. We were starving.

  “And each day that passed, there were fewer and fewer of us. We grew weaker and weaker. Worse, there was little we could do, except to keep going. Give up and we stood to die. Keep going, and there was at least a chance of survival. It was a slim chance, to be sure. But it was a chance.

  “And then, on the brink of destruction, a stroke of luck, though it didn’t seem that way at the time. A cowled figure, in black, was waiting to speak with me. It happened in the western forest. He came in silence. I did not even hear him approach. To be sure, I was terrified. He promised me supplies and protection in exchange for sending him anyone who possessed a special skill.”

  “What skill?” Quinn said.

  “He said I would understand when I saw it,” Greer said. “But I didn’t believe him. No one could provide safety. No one. And then he showed me what he could do.”

  Greer shivered.

  “What?” Quinn said. “What was it?”

  “Something no man should be capable of,” Greer said. “It is not something I would wish anyone to imagine, much less possess. And so, with nothing to lose and everything to gain, I saw nothing wrong with accepting his offer.

  “Who knows what plans the Merchant had for the poor soul who possessed the Skill he spoke of, which is why I promised myself that should I ever find someone with the Skill the Merchant sought, I would kill them before handing them over. I will never give the Merchant anything, and in return, I get all the supplies we need.”

  “How could you do this?” Quinn said. “We needed a stable situation, something to cling on to, something we could replicate, something we could grow and keep doing together. Instead you found something that might kill us all.”

  “I did what I did for our community,” Greer said. “For you. We would never have survived this long without the Merchant’s help.”

  “And what happens if you don’t find a person with the ‘Skill’?” Quinn said. “What happens to us then?”

  “Then we find another way to survive,” Greer said. “We have some food stockpiled. We can survive on that for a while, long enough to figure out a new way to survive.”

  “We failed to do it before,” Quinn said. “And you heard the Raiders. They will rain down on us without mercy at the slightest chance. And what do we have to defend ourselves with? A few bows and arrows and even fewer fighters.”

  “The Raiders work for the Merchant,” Greer said. “They will not attack us. And the community is what we have. We’ll just have to make the most of them while we can. What other choice do we have?”

  “What about Meryl?” Quinn said. “I take it it was these guys who killed her?”

  “That was the Raiders, yes,” Greer said. “You stumbled upon them. It was an accident. It could have happened at any time. It could have been much worse.”

  Quinn got to his feet and shook his head in agitation.

  “Quinn…” Greer said, following suit and getting to his feet. “You have to understand-”

  “Oh, I understand all right,” Quinn said. “Meryl is worth less than the deal you’ve got with the Merchant and the Raiders.”

  “Things aren’t that simple,” Greer said. “You must know that. You need to know that.”

  “Why?” Quinn said.

  “Because one day you will have to take over what I do here,” Greer said. “One day you will have to be the one to take the cart and horse, to make the pickups in my place.”

  “No,” Quinn said. “No. I’ll never do what you do.”

  He marched away, heading back in the direction of town. He might have been angry, but his decision to march away would also give Greer the cue to leave. But he hadn’t moved yet.

  “You say that now,” Greer said to himself. “Just wait till you’re in my position and everyone depends on you. Then we’ll see what you say.”

  He seized the horse’s reins, clucked, and headed away.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  SIREN packed up her things. She’d been waiting there for the past few hours until after Greer had left. She couldn’t stay there any longer. She had to leave. She had to find Hell’s Angel. She got to her feet, but before she could take a step toward the town, Quinn emerged from the foliage.

  “Well,” he said. “That’s a turn up for the books.”

  “It surely was,” Siren said.

  “What do you think we should do?” Quinn said.

  Kill Hell’s Angel, Siren thought. But she didn’t say that. It would invite too many questions.

  “Figure out a way to deal with the Raiders,” Siren said.

  “Why the Raiders?” Quinn said. ”What about this Merchant guy?”

  “We’ll get him too,” Siren said. “But if he’s got some kind of special abilities we shouldn’t try to deal with him face to face.”

  “Special abilities?” Quinn said. “Do you think that’s very likely?”

  “I’m not sure,” Siren said. “There are Grayskins running around. Why not?”

  “Okay,” Quinn said with a shrug. He didn’t sound convinced. “Then if we’re going to deal with them, I say we do it next week, when Greer goes to get the next load.”

  “A week?” Siren said.

  Quinn might have been suggesting they ought to wait forever by the way she reacted.

  “I can’t wait that long,” Siren said.

  “Why not?” Quinn said. “It’ll be here soon. And we need to gather weapons.”

  “Mm,” Siren said.

  “If you head out alone and try to find him now, how long would it take?” Quinn said. “Months? Not to mention the fact this Merchant is unlikely to be alone. Not to mention the Skill he has, whatever it is.”

  “If I don’t find them within a week, I’ll head to the meeting place and find them there,” Siren said.

  “They meet in a different place every time,” Quinn said. “You’ll never find him again.”

  Logic broke through like sunlight through dark clouds in Siren’s mind. She agreed. She didn’t like it, but what other choice did she have?

  “Okay,” she said. “We wait one week, and then we attack.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  THE NEXT DAY found Siren working in a different place to the school room. It was on Quinn’s scouting team. Siren wasn’t sure if it was because he was worried she’d run away and do something stupid, or because he just wanted to keep an eye on her. Either was fine with her, just so long as it got her out of the dusty old school and screaming kids.

  It wasn’t until they were heading out of town that Siren realized why her protective gear didn’t fit her very well. It was baggy and stretched out of shape. She was taking Meryl’s place, gear included.

  Siren wanted to be a scout, but she never intended for it to happen this way. But now she was a scout, and was relieved she would never have to worry about seeing the kids or hearing screams again. She even got her old
weapons back. She welcomed them into her life like old friends. She also got her hands on a high power rifle from the community’s armory.

  Siren was ready, locked, and loaded, prepared for the scouting mission ahead. She joined Quinn and the two other members of his scouting team: Rafael, and Mitt.

  Rafael looked happier than he had in a long time, without the gloomy veil over his features. He even looked—dare Siren say it—happy that they would soon be heading out of Whitegate to do something productive. In that, Siren was with him. She was beginning to grow claustrophobic in her current surroundings. She needed to get out.

  Mitt was a short, stout fellow with thick arms and friendly countenance. He smiled a lot and seemed to favor knives over automatic weapons.

  “Nice to see you again,” Rafael said with a smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Always nice to have an extra pair of eyes to keep a lookout for us.”

  “Have you done much scouting before?” Mitt said, his face bulging and happy.

  “Not specifically,” Siren said. “But having to survive out in the world makes you concentrate the mind and have to think creatively, doesn’t it? It’s a form of scouting.”

  “Yes, it is,” Mitt said. “I’d say you know a good deal more about it than we do.”

  “I wouldn’t doubt that,” Quinn said. “It takes real gumption to survive out in the world by yourself.”

  Siren knew she hadn’t survived out in the world by herself, of course, but she wasn’t about to admit that. She doubted she would have lasted much more than a few hours when the world went south. But she had learnt a great deal about protecting herself out in the wilderness thanks to her brother’s teachings. She had been an attentive student, knowing that everything he had to show her would only serve to be useful one day, even if it wasn’t useful in the immediate moment.

  “Our main goal today is to scout the last few remaining shops on Main Street in Windrush,” Quinn said. “We’re always on the lookout for valuable items we might be able to use.”