Shadowmark (The Shadowmark Trilogy Book 1)

by TM Catron

  Doyle didn’t answer her right away. “I don’t have a family. I don’t claim any one place as home. I’ve traveled most of my life.”

  It was the most unsatisfying answer she could imagine, worse than if he hadn’t said anything at all. “What about the Glyphs? You said you saw them up close. What happened?”

  “Nothing happened. I got away and fled to the mountains, same as you.”

  “Alright, don’t tell me, then. Goodnight, Doyle.” She yanked the zipper closed and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

  “Goodnight,” he said to the fire, so quietly she almost didn’t hear it.

  DAY 58

  THE NEXT MORNING MINA AND Doyle woke early and slid down the mountain slope in a cold rain that seeped into Mina’s bones. At the bottom, they found a crude election setup. Two groups of men stood by to watch the process. At the center of each stood one candidate. Voters walked by and threw a branch in front of the candidate they wanted to win. One branch equaled one vote.

  Mina and Doyle stood off to the side. Mina anxiously examined each voter, looking for Lincoln. A few men voted in groups, eyes darting around, afraid of retaliation for their vote. Some had black eyes and bloody noses. Thompson’s group stood quietly, the only real noise coming from Halston’s group, which had gathered farther down from Thompson. Doyle kept his eye on Halston.

  “They seem confident,” said Mina. She ran her tongue over her teeth. In their haste to leave the cabin, she had not thought to grab her toothbrush.

  “Yes.”

  Doyle occasionally stopped someone and asked him what he knew. A couple of Marines told them they had been ordered into the cities at the first sign of the invaders, but their ranks were quickly defeated with heavy firepower. These two eventually reached the mountains, intending to join the fight again if they could find it. If the new commander did not go to West Virginia, they would set out on their own again. Doyle gleaned little else from other voters. Most of them were stragglers, enticed by the protection a large group afforded.

  An hour passed, and Halston’s crew seemed less enthusiastic. The two piles of branches grew at the same rate. For every vote Halston received, someone else came over to vote for Thompson. Men clapped Thompson on the back when he walked away for a few moments. Williams brought him something to eat. While Thompson talked and laughed with Williams, Mina noticed them look over at her and Doyle. An inexplicable desire to leave nagged her, but she followed Doyle’s example and pretended not to notice the two men.

  “They’re coming over here,” she said a minute later.

  “Don’t stand like that,” admonished Doyle before Thompson and Williams reached them. “Square your shoulders. Otherwise you’re more of a target.”

  “Should I give them the evil eye while I’m at it?”

  Doyle bit back his retort as the two men approached. Thompson strode forward first, as if to introduce himself with a handshake. But he stopped short a few feet away. A thin man with thick eyebrows, he matched Doyle in height but had a smaller build. He scratched the stubble on his chin and frowned, his eyebrows furrowing into one. Doyle’s face was impassive, but the mood between the two men immediately grew tense.

  “Heard you been asking around,” said Thompson.

  “Just checking things out,” replied Doyle. He never took his eyes off Thompson, who stood up straighter. Williams, who’d been smiling at Mina when he walked over, stood next to his candidate. Mina tried to look like she knew what was happening.

  “Weren’t planning to vote, were you? Having just arrived?”

  “I don’t feel the need to vote, no. Thompson, is it?”

  “That’s right,” said Thompson coolly. “And you would be Doyle?” He looked at Williams for affirmation. Williams nodded curtly.

  “Yes,” answered Doyle.

  Thompson seemed to overcome whatever was bothering him because he laughed as he said, “You’re welcome to join our little party after we win today. We’re planning a celebration. You could bring your friend. Could be fun.” Thompson glanced at Mina and winked.

  Doyle ignored this. “And if you don’t win?”

  “I’m confident folks here see things from our perspective.”

  “We’ll see, won’t we?” said Doyle offhandedly, as if he had tired of the conversation.

  “Yes, I suppose we will.” Thompson motioned to Williams, and the pair walked back over to the growing piles of branches.

  “That was odd,” said Mina. She shook her head and said quietly, “Men.”

  At midday, rain still misted down, and Doyle and Mina moved to a more sheltered location. Mina sat down on a large boulder, longing for a warm campfire. With numb fingers she struggled to pull her jacket sleeves down over her hands.

  Were they racing against time by waiting for this vote? Despite Mina’s unease, Doyle remained adamant about waiting. If they tried to warn the camp before the vote finished, he said, they would start a riot. Doyle was stalling. But why? Did he want to stay? If he decided to, Mina needed to consider her options.

  “I don’t think these guys will vote to go to West Virginia,” remarked Doyle after a while. “They’re more preoccupied with surviving than fighting.”

  “What did you expect? Some great war being fought outside these mountains for you to go join?”

  Doyle frowned at her. “Maybe.” Mina bit back the next retort she wanted to hurl at him. He was foolish. The Glyphs had wiped out the cities completely. The idea of war was laughable.

  They watched the election in silence for some time before Doyle sat up, suddenly alert. The voting was over. The piles looked equally high, and everyone in the vicinity waited impatiently as both sides supervised the count. They counted and recounted, and almost an hour passed before they declared a winner.

  Halston’s side let out a whoop of triumph—they would go to West Virginia. A few minutes of back patting and high fiving ensued, but the celebrating was cut short as a large group of men, led by Thompson, approached Halston’s group. Mina held her breath. Although she could not hear what was being said from this distance, both parties had squared off, their bodies tense. Thompson would not give up easily. Soon the argument escalated to shouting and one of Halston’s men swung at one of Thompson’s. Then more joined the fight—whether to break it up or jump in, Mina couldn’t tell—but when she saw the flash of knives she stood up and gasped. Doyle, already on his feet, grabbed her arm. Men poured out of the trees on all sides.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Doyle said. But before they could move, four men ran down the slope toward them, ready to join the fray. Mina recognized Jones. He brandished a knife, and recognizing Doyle, made straight for him. Before Mina knew what had happened, Doyle had let go of her and pulled his own knife from his belt.

  Mina backed out of the way, and not a moment too soon. Jones expertly slashed at Doyle, barely missing his chest. Doyle elbowed Jones while his companions tried to surprise Doyle from behind. She could barely see Doyle as he fought off all four men at once. The other men tried to grab Doyle while Jones circled again with his knife held out before him.

  Why didn’t Doyle use his gun? Then she remembered her own. She reached around under her jacket and t-shirt for it, but the holster had fallen off. Mina looked around wildly and slid back down toward their seat to find it. By the time she’d found it, Doyle had joined her, pulling her arm as shouts rang out all around. More people joined the fighting, and gunshots rang out above the din.

  Doyle nodded toward the gun in Mina’s hand. He took it, pulled it out of the holster, and racked the slide before handing it back to her. “Don’t be afraid to use it!” he yelled. They slogged over the muddy earth up to the spot where the men had attacked Doyle. Jones lay on the ground, blood pooling beneath him. His eyes stared blankly into the trees above. Mina gaped as the rain mingled with the blood all over his body, but Doyle continued pulling her up the slope, not giving her a chance to ask the questions that swam in her mind.

  More gunfire sounded
, and a rumble of thunder reverberated through the valley. After much slipping and sliding through the forest, they reached their cold, empty campsite. Here, the oncoming storm overpowered the sounds of the fighting below. Doyle pulled their carefully hidden packs from under the brush. He had blood on his jacket.

  “Are you hurt?” Mina asked. She reached out her hand to touch his jacket, but he zipped it up quickly and shook his head.

  Mina fastened on her pack. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Good. Stay here. I’m going down again to look at what’s going on. Don’t leave this spot. Stay out of sight. If someone bothers you, don’t forget your gun.” He tossed his bag down next to her.

  “What could possibly be so important that you would risk getting shot?” But Doyle left before she even finished her sentence, and she ended up shouting it at him as he made his way back down the slope.

  Shaking with fury and cold, Mina followed orders and stayed put. An hour passed, and she hunkered under the tree, trying to stop shivering. The rain stopped, and a cold fog took its place. Occasional gunfire and shouts echoed up from below.

  Someone headed up the slope through the mist, and thinking Doyle was looking for her, Mina jumped up and waved her hand, calling out. But when she saw Williams’s red hair, she shrank away and looked for a hiding place. Williams had already spotted her, though. When he saw she was alone, he grinned. A leering grin that reminded her of Reed.

  “What are you doing up here?”

  “What’s going on down there?” Mina tried to sound casual.

  “Oh, nothing to worry yourself about, I don’t reckon. Where’s your friend?” He glanced at her hand and paused. Mina still gripped her gun. Williams didn’t have any weapons.

  Mina felt for the safety and switched it off. “He’s on his way back up.”

  “Maybe I’ll sit with you and wait on him, then.”

  Her heart pounding, Mina held up her gun and pointed it at him.

  Williams raised his hands in surrender and laughed. “All I want to do is see Doyle. We can wait for him together.”

  “Don’t come any closer!” Mina was proud of herself for keeping her voice even, but her shaking hands refused to keep the gun level.

  “Put that away. We both know you won’t shoot me. And I won’t hurt you.” He walked forward again.

  She should pull the trigger, but something inside her resisted. Williams wasn’t running at her or shrinking back. He genuinely believed she wouldn’t shoot. Just do it! He was five feet away. Stop him! Three feet.

  Williams grabbed for the gun. Mina twisted, trying to get out of the way. But he knocked the gun out of her hand and grabbed her arm. She dove for the weapon and he jerked her upright. Mina summoned all her strength and punched him in the nose, her knuckles smarting instantly. Undeterred, Williams raised his hand to strike.

  Something knocked both of them to the ground. Mina landed hard on her elbow and cried out. She turned—Doyle had pinned Williams on the ground next to her. She scooted away as quickly as she could. Doyle grabbed Williams by the throat and dragged him down the slope. But Williams was strong, and somehow flipped up to kick Doyle in the face. Doyle released him, but instead of reeling back, Doyle lunged at Williams, catching him off guard. They toppled down the steep slope, sliding through the wet underbrush and bouncing off a rock before Williams slammed into a large tree. Doyle slid a few more feet before recovering his balance and running up to where Williams lay groaning at the base of the tree.

  Mina hurried down as Williams struggled to get to his feet. Doyle pulled out his gun.

  Williams’s voice trembled. “I wasn’t going to hurt her. See? She’s alright.”

  Doyle fixed Williams with a stare so cold Mina started to shake again. He put the gun to Williams’s forehead.

  “Wait! You’re in the same boat as me, Doyle.” He spat the name. “We can help each other!”

  Before Mina reached them, Doyle pulled the trigger, and a resounding crack filled the air. Williams’s body crumpled, blood spattering the nearby tree. Mina halted in her tracks. Doyle immediately began searching Williams’s pockets.

  Anger and disappointment and fear all vied for attention as Mina ran at Doyle, full of rage. He stood and grabbed her arm, pulling her away from the body. Mina jerked out of reach, away from his touch.

  “You should have shot him as soon as you saw him!” Doyle said fiercely. “That’s why I gave you a gun in the first place!”

  “I couldn’t! He wasn’t armed. I had the gun out, but . . .” The fact that he blamed her was infuriating. “You stopped him! The situation was under control!”

  “What if I hadn’t shown up? What would have happened to you then?” He was shouting now.

  “But you did show up. You had no reason to shoot him!”

  “Always waiting on me to save you! Have you learned nothing? It’s like you want to die.”

  “Maybe I just have a problem with killing people in cold blood!”

  “It wasn’t cold blood, Mina. He attacked you.” Doyle’s voice was quieter now.

  “We could have walked away. But now this is one more thing to add to the pile. One more regret.”

  “It’s not your regret. You didn’t pull the trigger.”

  Mina couldn’t tell if he meant to relieve her of her guilt or add to it. She tried to calm herself by breathing deeply, but hot tears spilled down her cheeks anyway, and this time she didn’t care if Doyle saw them. In an effort to clear her head, she asked, “What did he mean by you’re in the same boat as me?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “No?”

  Doyle shook his head. “He had a gun to his head. He would have said anything to keep me from shooting.”

  “And you shot him anyway!”

  “They are all going to die if the Glyphs find them! And with the noise going on down there, it won’t be long.”

  “A lot of these men would already be out of the valley if they had known the invaders were close! But no, you insisted we wait while you decided what you wanted to do!”

  “Yes, and it didn’t help you out at all, either, Mina, did it? Looking for your brother? It’s easy to say we should have warned them about the Glyphs now that you know he isn’t here. But if we had warned them and he left before you found him? What then?”

  “He would be alive, and that’s all I care about.” Mina’s voice broke. “We shouldn’t be fighting each other. We should be surviving, and getting as far away from the Glyphs as we can before they hunt us down!”

  Doyle kicked Williams’s foot. “Tell that to these guys. If what you saw down below leaves you with any faith in humanity, then you are a fool. People will clamber over one another and kill until no one is left standing, all in the name of survival. The Glyphs don’t need to hunt us down—we’ll do the work for them.”

  “All the same, we shouldn’t just hand each other over to the Glyphs,” said Mina, looking at the body. She looked up at Doyle for some sign of remorse, of reason, and shuddered at his blank expression. She had already made up her mind. “I’m leaving.”

  Doyle looked at her. “Fine.”

  Mina retrieved her backpack, furious that was all he had to say. She left the second rifle propped against a tree and her pistol on the ground. As if in answer to her rage, another rumble of thunder shook the mountain.

  “Mina.”

  She turned, shaking. Of course he would try to stop her.

  Doyle walked over and picked up the pistol. “Take it. Please.” He held it out to her.

  “So I can become like you?” she hissed.

  “Please.” Doyle’s taut face and cold eyes contrasted with the warmth in his voice.

  Mina took it and put it in its usual place on her belt. Anything to put some distance between them. She could always toss the gun later. She looked at Doyle one last time. When he did not say anything else, she turned and hiked up to the ridge as quickly as she could.

  That night Mina sheltered under an overhang on the
other side of the ridge, tired, hungry, and cold. She had wandered aimlessly, looking for the easiest way down this difficult side of the mountain. Mina lit a fire from the dry brush she found beneath the overhang, but its feeble flame did little to warm her. She crawled into her tent only to fume some more. She felt betrayed somehow. Any way she looked at it, this day did not add up. Doyle had made careful, calculated decisions. He was not rash, and he was not vengeful—at least the Doyle she knew. He claimed mercy led him to kill the burned man. Why had he killed a healthy man in cold blood? And why had Jones attacked him?

  Exhausted but too preoccupied to sleep, Mina lay awake for a long time and watched the clouds clear away through the open flap of her tent. Stars shone crisply in the dark sky. She wished she could rewind to a week ago, when they were living in the cabin. For a few brief days, life had seemed simple.

  Just before dawn, a rumbling woke Mina. The fire had burned itself out, but the stars still shone brightly in the still night. No birds sang in the trees. Even the wind barely made a sound. The mountain rumbled again. Vibrations shook the overhang, causing small stones to fall down onto her tent. Mina sat, crying softly as explosions rocked the other side of the mountain. Even though she could not see anything over the ridge, she imagined great plumes of fire and smoke rising up out of the valley.

  Calla rushed through the trees, sliding over wet pine needles as another explosion rocked the dark valley. Shame coursed through her. They would escape her now. Where did he go? Smoke drifted over, momentarily obscuring her view of the trees ahead. Still she pressed on, feeling her way to the ridge where she had last sensed him. She would catch one of them, at least. A shadow stumbled toward her, choking in the smoky air. Calla let it pass.

  The sounds of gunfire and arguing below had ceased, replaced by screams and shouts of panic. Another explosion created a fireball down the slope from Calla, and she felt the heat from it as the ground shook beneath her. There. A body lay at the foot of a tree. She ran to it and turned it over. Williams. He had been shot in the head, execution-style. His pockets had been turned out, too, and his weapons were gone. Calla forced down the anger rising in her. She had needed him alive.