“Thanks for saving my ass back there,” he said over his shoulder, disappearing inside the outhouse.
“You’re welcome.”
He returned quickly. “You don’t mind if I clean up?”
She nodded. “Go ahead.”
Disconnecting the hose, he primed the pump and washed his face and hands. He removed his long leather trench coat and his bloodied shirt. Wadding the shirt, he began cleaning the smears off his carved belly.
Dahlia tried to keep her eyes from following the water as it licked rivulets down muscles she’d never known existed.
“What do you have here? Seventy-five people? Maybe a hundred?” he asked, rinsing his shirt. He twisted it and rung the water out.
She kept silent. He didn’t need to know how prepared they were for attack. “Hank says we’re too far from any kind of threat.”
“They just haven’t found you yet. There are several factions combing different sectors of the country. You’ve got plenty here to tempt anyone. We might not be entirely human, but we still need to eat. We still need water to live. I’m surprised you haven’t been raided before.”
“Come on. You need to get back in the cage before you’re spotted.”
They’d had guns in the past. Eddy had let it slip they’d used the last of their ammunition tracking down coyotes, picking off the herd. It wasn’t like they could go to the store to buy more. Clubs, knifes, and bows and arrows wouldn’t be a match for any large force that happened their way and they all knew it. They were living on borrowed time.
“Maybe me and my dad should move on. Before we’re hit. He’s gotten too comfortable here.”
She handed the basket of food to Connor as he approached the kennel.
“What in the hell is he doing out, Dahlia?” Eddy said as he came around from behind her.
Dahlia whirled, her mind scrambled with excuses.
Connor stepped back into his cage and shut the door. “She just let me use the outhouse. No harm, no foul.”
“She should know better than that.” Eddy reached down and locked the padlock. He straightened, and as he stood to full height brought his hand up and smacked Dahlia’s cheek so hard her head whipped to the other side. The crack of his palm on her cheek made her ears ring.
Stunned by the sudden move, she clutched her face and bent over double.
A warbling sound reverberated through her skull. Her cheek felt like it’d been lit on fire. She stood and stumbled toward the pump, hoping to cool her skin off with water.
The cage rattled as Connor’s fingers locked through the spacing and rattled the links. Eddy laughed, taunting the caged man.
“Touch her again, and I’ll kill you,” Connor said in a deadly quiet voice.
“You’ll have to come out for that. We’re passing judgment on you soon enough. Enjoy the rest of your life while you can. Come on, you,” he said, grabbing Dahlia from the pump to drag back to town.
***
“He struck my daughter! Look at her face,” Wallace said, pointing to Dahlia.
Hank remained silent from his position behind his desk.
Eddy jumped to his feet, giving Dahlia a murderous look. “She let the prisoner out.”
“Is this true, Dahlia?” Hank asked.
Dahlia swallowed a lump in her throat. “I let him use the outhouse. He promised not to try anything. He hasn’t done anything to us yet. He’s still a human being.”
“I’d say he’s a little more than human. I’m inclined to agree with Eddy that the prisoner shouldn’t be allowed to wander around,” Hank said.
“If what I’ve been told my whole life is true, that dog kennel couldn’t keep him in if he really wanted to get out and do us harm,” she said.
Hank rubbed the scruff on his chin as he thought. “All right. Point taken. Five lashes, Eddy, for hitting the girl. Dahlia, your punishment is to stay with the prisoner day and night. You’ve got…let’s say three days before we pass judgment for his trespassing. I want you to use your charms and see if he’s got anything he’s hidin’ that we ought to know about. Go on, now. Eddy, you’ll take your lashes after I’ve had my lunch.”
Dahlia ignored the blistering heat in Eddy’s eyes. She knew the man was a killer. Everyone in town had killed someone along the way, even if they chose not to mention who or why—they’d all done something regrettable to survive. Her father and Hank had just unknowingly handed her a death sentence. She knew she’d have to keep her guard up until she could convince her father that it was time to move on.
Wallace walked with her back to their shanty, waiting until they were inside before she spoke again.
“I wish you hadn’t done that. It’s not like I haven’t been hurt before. He surprised me. I shouldn’t have let me guard down,” she said, moving to gather some things for her stay at the cage. She’d need a couple blankets, a cup, and some food for them both.
He touched her cheek. It felt bruised. She crinkled her eyes, wincing and resisting the urge to coddle her face.
“There’s supposed to be a semblance of society here. I’d’ve killed him for touching you, if I wasn’t sick.” As if on cue, a coughing spasm wracked his lungs. He sat on one of two stools in the small space, gasping for air until the fit passed.
Dahlia watched until he stopped. “I should stay.”
He shook his head. “Go. Do what you can.”
She finished stuffing her old knapsack full of supplies. “I’ve got a bad feeling.”
He chuckled and wheezed a bit. “I’ve heard that before.”
“This is different. Violence is escalating. They would’ve killed him without a vote if I hadn’t stepped in. There’s nothing stopping them from wholescale murder on us all. We’re better off on our own.”
“Scrounging and scavenging to survive?” Wallace said. “I’m not sure I can make it through another winter out on the road. We’ve been here so long we don’t know what’s out there.”
“I know what’s behind us—nothing but tainted beachfront property. I know what’s here—people afraid and ready to strike if anything doesn’t go their way. There has to be something better on the east coast. The south had farms and orchards. Maybe we could find a real house.”
He nodded, but the faraway look in his eyes disturbed her. They both knew, without modern medicine, his chances for survival dwindled the further they traveled from fresh water and food. Going into the unknown was for the young and healthy.
She shouldered her bag. “I’ll be back. I promise.”
“I know you will. Just be careful. Don’t put all your trust in a pretty face.”
Chapter Three
In the distance, the sharp crack of the lash and Eddy’s hoarse cry carried distinctly behind her. His punishment gave her no satisfaction. Instead, it filled her with unease.
Eddy would be vicious to deal with now, she knew. She worried about her father sleeping alone in their shack. A sharp machete would do little good if he was attacked while asleep.
As much as she didn’t want needless killing, it didn’t mean she wanted to babysit a stranger and leave her father vulnerable to attack. The question wasn’t if Eddy would retaliate, but when.
Overhead, the late afternoon sky steadily darkened as a swift wind pushed rain clouds in from the mountains. The breeze snatched the whip cracks away, or perhaps they’d ceased altogether and he’d gone off to lick his wounds.
Dahlia hefted her bag, hurrying along the perimeter fence, passing the watch post where Allen stood, and onward. The closer she drew to the stranger, the darker the sky turned, until a solid swath of foreboding gray covered the sky.
She stopped within sight of the jail, wondering if she should just ignore Hank’s orders and go back home. Rain was imminent. Already the first scattered droplets caught in her hair and lashes, pelting her shoulders as her pace quickened.
The only shelter from the elements was beneath the tin roof over the enclosure. She was doomed for a wet, miserable night if she had to stay
out in the open all evening. Inside the links, the stranger—Connor—lay on top of his trench coat which was spread over the cracked concrete floor. His shirt he’d wadded up and placed beneath his head as a pillow, and his hands clasped over his naked belly.
He looked comfortable, though she didn’t see how.
She halted at the sight of all that sculpted flesh peppered with short dark hair. She wondered how he couldn’t be chilled half naked.
“Didn’t think you’d be back out here,” he said, keeping his eyes shut.
“I didn’t have much choice. I’ve got to watch you the next few days.”
He cracked an eye open and looked at her. “Can’t take your eyes off me, hmm? Interesting.”
She gaped at him. “I didn’t say that!”
“You might as well have, sweetheart.”
The heavens ceased their warning and turned the random spatters into a full scale onslaught. The staccato rain against the tin roof was deafening. Dahlia gasped as cold water drenched her hair and clothes.
“You should come on inside. Get out of the rain.” Now not only was he looking at her, he’d sat up too.
The move accentuated the broadness of his shoulders and his narrow waist. His arms were thick too. He looked capable of breaking her in half, especially with those large hands.
She shifted one foot to the other, feeling her clothes cling to her skin and sap away warmth. He hadn’t hurt her, and he’d definitely had the opportunity to do so. What’s more, she was supposed to use her “wiles” on him, even though she had no idea how to accomplish that. She’d never tried to charm a man in her life.
She dropped her bag, fished for the key, and unlocked the gate to go inside. Connor remained where he was, watching her drag her bag under the shelter then close the gate and relock it.
Dahlia admitted she probably wasn’t making the smartest move. She was stuck between disobeying Hank’s rules and putting herself in harm’s way with the Renegade. Her chances of coming through this unscathed were nil. She hoped she wasn’t being as big of a dumbass as she felt.
Grimacing, she wrung out her hair and followed with her shirt. “At least I don’t have to take a bath or wash my clothes any time soon,” she muttered.
Boots scraped on concrete as Connor stood. She turned, feeling the hair on the back of her neck prickle with warning.
The cage seemed to shrink to half its size. She backed up against the gate to crane her head upward rather than leave her nose stuck in man chest.
“That’s looking on the bright side,” he said.
His deep voice gave her the shivers. “I’m a ray of sunshine.” Shivers kicked in. Her teeth chattered. The rain continued, dropping the temperature sharply. Beyond their borders, she could see it was raining too hard. They might get a flash flood.
“Why a few days? You didn’t bring a change of clothes?”
“Huh?” she said. She chewed her lip, trying to think of a response as she debated whether to use one of her blankets to dry off with or just bear with the wetness until she dried.
“Here,” he said, gathering up his coat with a loud flap. He dropped it on her shoulders then retrieved his shirt and slipped it on. “You should take off your shirt.”
She gasped and sucked in an unfamiliar masculine scent that was as disturbingly pleasant as it was unwelcome. “That’s a stupid idea.”
“It’s stupider to get hypothermia. I’ll turn around if that’s bothering you. I have seen tits before.”
He made no move to turn around.
She glared at him. “Well you haven’t seen mine.” She moved to take his jacket off, but he put his hands on the lapels and firmly closed it. “I have blankets I can cover up with,” she said.
“You’ll soak them, and you’ll still be cold.”
“I’m not a baby bird. I don’t need you or anyone else taking care of me,” she said, poking her finger into his hard chest. He didn’t so much as flinch and the tip of her finger hurt from his unyielding flesh.
Connor frowned. “You’re wrong.”
“You’re delusional. Wait, wrong about what?”
Water sluiced across the concrete floor, threatening the holes in her shoes. She frowned down at the floor, feeling her toes get wet. Before she could move, Connor scooped her into his arms.
Dahlia shrieked.
“That was my ear drums,” he said, squinting and looking pained.
“What do you expect? I don’t like being manhandled.”
“I thought you’d appreciate not having your shoes soaked for the next two days. I can put you down.”
“I shouldn’t have come in here. I’m an idiot. And you’re treating me like a kid.”
“I said I’d put you down,” he grumbled.
She shook her head. “Just hold me until the water stops. I’m already up here. You might as well,” she said with a sigh. At least her hunch that he was an overgrown protective type wasn’t wrong. Maybe her instincts weren’t gone to shit like she thought. Or maybe she was just lucky and stupid.
The warmth of his arms melted through to her chilled skin. She liked it. The last time she’d been held was as a child by her father. This was an entirely different experience, and she was glad he’d put his shirt back on. His nudity made her uncomfortable.
All her life men had been the enemy, wanting to take and use her all up until nothing was left. Even so, she’d clung to the hope that there were others worthy of trusting and fighting for. Sometimes, it was all that kept her going.
Her father said God had punished their species for raping the planet. She didn’t know much about it, didn’t want to believe his tales, but it was often hard to ignore the sense that they were forsaken.
Perhaps Connor appreciated her sticking her neck out for him and felt some sense of responsibility. How long had it been since she’d met a decent person other than her father and Jacob?
The rain pelting the tin slacked off, reducing the din. Quieting, the deluge turned to a soft mist, penetrating the ground at an easier pace.
Without a word or sign of discomfort, Connor set her back onto her feet. She was disconcerted to find that the scent of his chest remained stuck in her nose and clung to her skin. His coat probably did more to mark her than anything else.
“Here,” she said, handing the coat back to him. “I’m not so wet now.”
She watched him spread it back out on the wet floor to sit on.
“Next time, don’t be so hardheaded when someone wants to help you.”
“Think I could have an outhouse break, or are you worried about being caught again?”
“That’s not something I’m worried about for now.” She stared at him a long moment and caved, unlocking the padlock. “You’re not going to run, are you?”
“If I wanted to leave, I would. This cage couldn’t hold me. I’m exactly where I want to be.”
He left. She wasn’t disturbed by the admission like she thought she would be. Had the stories about Renegades been true? Horror stories spread fast and wild. Good deeds seemed to vanish with the wind.
Dahlia wanted to believe him.
When he returned, she handed him a few strips of smoked jerky. He sat on his haunches, giving her space while leaving her access to the gate. Water droplets studded his shoulders and hair.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She chewed the inside of her lip, trying to think of a subtle attack plan to gather information. Patience had never been one of her virtues. Screw it. “So you wanted us to capture you?”
“I never denied it,” he said, then tore off a chunk of meat.
“Why?”
“It’s a test. It’s easy to understand people’s reactions when you see them at their worst. I’ve been through many settlements. Some try to maintain a semblance of society—others exist only to devour and destroy. Which would you guess I’ve encountered more often?”
She hugged her legs to her chest, feeling a sudden chill up her spine. She was quiet when
she answered, “The monsters.”
He nodded, eating more as he watched her.
Dahlia propped her chin on her knees, looking out at the gathering darkness. The misty rain had finally stopped. She could leave the cage now. It was too bad the rain soaked everything. A fire would have been nice. “What did you mean when you said we were all going to die?” she asked.
“Why don’t you answer a question for me instead?”
His avoidance of the question made her uneasy. “All right.”
“Are there any children in your village?” he asked, studying her face for the truth.
“No.”
“Is anyone pregnant? Have the animals stopped producing young?”
She struggled to her feet and moved to the gate. “Why do you want to know? Have you seen any children?”
“Not outside of my own settlement. Something is affecting the remaining Homo sapiens. The animals are fine. You’ll either evolve with us, or you’ll go extinct. We need women.” He stood from his squat but didn’t advance on her.
Dahlia opened the gate and exited, shutting it firmly behind her. Connor didn’t try to stop her or escape. She knew what they needed women for—the same reason all men needed them. She narrowed her eyes. “Who is us?”
“We call ourselves Homo Supernus. It means superior or above. This is the next level of evolution. If you want to have a future, you’ll have to convert.”
Again, the shiver chased up her spine. She hastily locked the gate, but Connor didn’t look angry for her fearful response. If anything, there was a sadness in his eyes, a resignation in the wrinkles of his forehead and the way he looked at her. “Convert?”
“I’ve been tasked to find humans sound of mind for conversion to the new race.”
She shook her head, backing away. She realized her bag was still inside the cage, but she wasn’t going back in to retrieve it. “You want to turn us into Renegades, don’t you? You want to infect us?”
Connor said nothing, but that was just as damning as an admission.
Dahlia turned and ran blindly in the dark back to town, back to her father.
Taming the Alpha Page 93