The Blood Bargain (Book 2): Breach

Home > Other > The Blood Bargain (Book 2): Breach > Page 2
The Blood Bargain (Book 2): Breach Page 2

by Macaela Reeves


  I felt surprisingly naked walking out here without my bow. Not that I was en route for anything that would put me in harm’s way, just a delivery to the inside. Parents of my class had declared the children were all needed at home to help prep for the pending winter so I found myself with surprise free time. Free time which I had decided was best spent delivering Cole some lunch. It wasn’t much, just some carrots, cooked corn and a hunk of potato bread. I don’t know what possessed me to come visit him out here, I had held no desire to get within five hundred feet of the wall since I woke up in my room after jumping off that roof. Maybe I was just using lunch as an excuse to see him or maybe I was using him as an excuse to test my nerve on seeing the wall.

  Maybe maybe maybe.

  Crossing off the last of the sidewalks into open field I saw it in the distance. The thing was not aesthetically pleasing in anyway. A hodgepodge of wood, metal and anything else we could get our hands on as a resource. It was tall and it was ugly, but most importantly it was solid. It was the structure that allowed the people who were still alive to have any sort of peace in their lives. The barrier between us and those of us who had departed in spirit over a decade ago.

  Since it was finished, the number of deaths due to deadhead infection had been limited to careless guards. The vampires did their sweep when the sun went down so the number of ghouls that actually shambled past our markers these days were few and far between. That is, aside from the small massive influx we went through when a stream of the things followed Cole back from the city. An onslaught that could be blamed on an incredibly stupid me. One hundred percent. Most days however the job was observing and waiting.

  We had placed lookout towers every few miles along the wall, from these lofty positions someone was stationed, through wind rain and snow, to keep watch when the sun was up. Markers placed on the other side of our barrier gave us call out points. Nothing was important till they crossed the first marker. After that we had plenty of time to ensure they were dead and dormant before they made it to the second.

  I’d like to think it was a science we had perfected. Still to this day, nothing has made it to the wall. The dead can have the wilds, here inside Junction safety was ensured.

  Closing in on the watch tower, I saw the thin silhouette of a young man, his arms raised and moving.

  For a moment I saw Adam King, smiling down at me and waving hello. As he had thousands of times before over the years. That boyish friendly face and lanky frame that was almost breakable. Had been breakable.

  Blackened teeth pulling back, revealing dark red muscle and bits of white bone underneath. There was blood everywhere. Someone was screaming. I was screaming. “I’m done....just leave me.”

  “Adam no!”

  Shielding my eyes from the sun glare, it was not Adam, nor was he happy to see me.

  “Hey why are you out here? No civilians are allowed!” A guy much younger than his predecessor was yelling at me frantically from the watch tower, waving his arms about like a baby bird. With a roll of my eyes, I kept walking despite how much he complained.

  “Shove it, I brought Cole lunch.” I raised the little pail so he could see it. The metal gleamed in the sun throwing rays all over the lookout tower.

  “Lady you need to get back to the colony, don’t make me bring this to the council.” He lectured me. I bit my tongue from telling him I was on the council, further I was probably more qualified to be out here than he was.

  “Just radio him already jackass. Tell him Liv is here.”

  “Wait...what...you’re Liv? The Liv Younger?” I wanted to correct him and tell him I was the very annoyed Liv Younger. The way he said it made me sound like a thing rather than a person. Maybe that’s what being locally famous feels like, objectified.

  “Last time I checked.” Through gritted teeth I managing a growl. Eyes wide, he picked up the radio off his belt then spoke fast. Was a good fifteen minutes from when Cole peeked over a hill to the east till he was by the guard tower, during that time I was subjected to a million apologies and questions from the scrawny kid who I learned was named Liam (think I knew that already) oldest of three who had just turned sixteen. Watching his approach, I debated running across the field to him all dramatic and theatrical, but my recently healed leg was not a fan of that kind of activity.

  My heart kicked up a beat or two as he came closer, the broad smile on his all American face having an effect on me that was refreshing and foreign all at the same time.

  “Hey girlie.” He picked me up like I was nothing and gave me a little spin. This was why I had come out here, screw the wall and whatever nonsense my mind was trying to reason out. I was here to see him.

  “Don’t call me girlie.” I responded playfully.

  “Well with all that hair and civilian clothes...” I punched him in the arm. He was partially right though, out here in a jacket and sneakers I was not my usual self. With no knives at my hip and my back barren I did look really out of place next to a man that was armed to the teeth. I knew from experience that in addition to the two katana on his back that Cole would also have at least one knife in his left boot, a short sword at his hip and a .45 caliber gun tucked in somewhere. Not that he ever would use the pistol. Cole, unlike yours truly, liked being up close and personal with his kills.

  “Whatever old man.” He was a jaw dropping four years my senior. “Brought you lunch.”

  “Have I told you lately how absolutely amazing you are?” That made me blush. He started to lean into me, but then his head whipped up.

  “Dude you mind?” Cole snapped at Liam. The kid was staring down at us like an awkward fifth wheel. Fumbling with his binoculars the boy nodded, and went back to looking out over the wall.

  I frowned, there it was again. That hole in my chest for the one who used to sit in that very spot.

  Cole pulled me gently by the arm away from the tower. Casually we strolled through the tall grass and away from observation. In silence we walked on, listening to nothing but the crunch of the brown grass beneath our feet. The brown patches of earth where cornstalks shot high in the spring came into view to our left.

  “Cutting class?” He asked me.

  “Parents wanted the little ones back home early today to finish up the canning. With the early temperature drops I guess most houses are behind schedule this year.” Winter months were harsh and unforgiving. There was no longer a grocer you could just pop in on whenever and pick up a meal. No frozen food, no fridges to store it. All of our stoves were the old fashioned wood burning kind. Electricity was a mostly forgotten invention at the moment, all of our heat came from fireplaces. We had two buildings in town that were trialing solar power, but when the roof's got blanketed with snow the panels were useless.

  “Well, that gives you some free time then.”

  “Not really...” I bit my lower lip, searching for the correct phrasing. “I’m on the council now it looks like.”

  Cole whistled. “How did that happen between me leaving this morning and now?”

  “Dad cornered me at breakfast. Called it his ‘legacy’.” I used air quotes.

  “Awesome.”

  “I hate it.”

  “It’s lame then.” I managed a laugh, tucking a untamed lock of hair behind my ear.

  “I’m going to have to sit in that stuffy room every day with stupid Zack.” Kicking the grass with my tennis shoe as I said the z word. Cole bent over, giving me a light kiss on the forehead, snaking a arms possessive around my waist. It forced me to match his pace as we walked, the longer stride pulling at my leg muscles where I’d been injured.

  “Relax, you’re with me. He makes a move I’ll put him in his place.” With a private smile, I knew that to be true. Cole had already proven he’d beat the guy down for me, and he’d done a hell of a job at it. A fight neither of them remembered thanks to a little vampire assistance.

  My feet stopped, legs unable to go another step forward without resting for a while. In honest this was a nice pla
ce for lunch anyway. On top of the Northwestern hills overlooking the heavy crop zones. I took in the scenery with a sigh. It was far more lovely in the spring with all the blooming life. Now the earth was reduced to a few rogue stalks under a blanket of leaves.

  “I’m sure you will.” I waved the lunch I had prepared him in front of his face. “How about for now you focus on putting those veggies in their place He-Man?”

  He practically tore open the metal pail as soon as we sat in the grass. Tucking my hands under my knees for warmth I quietly observed him devour his lunch. Between massive bites he’d toss me a grin, that proud slightly possessive smile of male affection that was both casual and deadly.

  The whole event ended in a large belch. “Thanks. That really hit the spot.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  “So, you want to come to my place tonight?”

  “Sick of having to wear pants in the hall?” I giggled, the visual of him sans pants staying forefront in my mind.

  The look on his face told me he did not share my playful thought. Tightlipped, his brow furrowed. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, cheeks flushing. “Nah, my Mom kind of wanted you to come over for dinner and junk.”

  I blinked a few times. He wants me to meet his mother? The woman who once was furious that I put him in harm’s way but now was supposedly into us being a couple. That had stressful disaster written all over it.

  “If not its cool.” He started to stand but I grabbed his arm.

  “No. I mean. No, I want to. I just didn’t know we hit the meet the parents part.” It had been less than two months.

  “Hey if I listened to your Dad we’d be at the isle part.”

  I punched him in the shoulder. “Get out.”

  Cole laughed. “I’m serious! He’s been all frowns and last name change suggesting when I’m around.” Blushing, I made a mental note to talk to my father. The nerve, where did he get off-

  “Cole! Cole come in! We got deadheads man!” With a curse Cole rolled his eyes at the static filled voice, ripping the walkie-talkie off his belt.

  “Kid is still so friggen green.” He grumbled, pushing the talk button.

  “Liam calm down, how many and how far?”

  “Not here man, north lookout. They can’t count them. Oh hell, they can’t count them all.”

  Cole was on his feet in an instant. “En route. Over.”

  “We’re close.” The north lookout was just at the other end of the fields past the chicken coups.

  “I know. Come with me?” He asked. Words that triggered a mental replay of the horrors I had survived. Yes’s and No’s screamed in my head in a choir.

  “I’m not armed.” I blurted, nor was I dressed for any sort of combat.

  “We’ll figure it out.” He was already jogging away from me.

  On sheer instinct I followed him. My legs having to do double time to keep his pace. With each painful step I kept hearing the lookouts frantic voice, the sound creating my own internal music that drowned out the pain in my limbs. It couldn’t be that bad, there couldn’t be that many. He had to just be green and misunderstanding. The vamps cleared every night, for a swarm of that many to accumulate and get within range in a few hours was unheard of.

  There was already a crowd of guards gathering by the north lookout. The post that looked out over the main road into town that led to highway 69. I recognized some of the faces from our off the books meetings at Smitty’s some months prior, others from around town and shift coordination meetings. All of them were heavily armed and in heated discussion.

  Ben was there, the six foot and a crap ton of inches red head towered over the rest with a frown on his hard face. Arms the size of tree trunks were stuffed into a trench coat, which I knew from experience was hiding a handful of deadly toys. Ben was an axe man, brute strength worked to his advantage. He was a good friend of Cole’s, but I didn’t like the guy since he brought his love triangle to my doorstep; dating both the sweet nurse who helped me recover and my best friend who also happened to be my housemate.

  Cole approached him immediately and joined the male murmuring circle while I started climbing up the wall to get a look.

  Pegs were placed every foot or so to allow us a nice way of up and over to take out threats. The climb was the hardest it had ever been for me. My freshly healed legs protested, muscles tense and burning from under use. Despite the pain I refused to look weak or give up, men in this colony were quick to try to enforce gender roles as they were centuries past. I would not give them the opportunity to question my abilities, even if I did have a temporary handicap.

  If we were under threat I had to know. I had to see it. Thankfully, everyone was too preoccupied to tell me to stop, get down, go home and cook something. Relying on my arms more than my legs, I pulled myself up over the edge, careful not to graze my skin on the pieces of metal that had been haphazardly welded together on my right.

  I had no comprehension of what I was looking at.

  The only association I could make in my mind was a comparison to a rock concert.

  These were not screaming fans however, this was a collection of undead men women and children. There were no bright shirts with band logos on them, most had lost whatever garments they had on at the time of infection. Caked with mud and long decayed, their mutilated bodies were virtually sexless, only their height giving an indication of what they may have been. There was a sea of them, moving as one across the horizon in our direction. Slow and steady and not vocal. When the throes of hunger hit they would try to pick up the pace and make a hell of a sound. Neither of those things seemed to be occurring, which meant they were just aimlessly headed our way? That wasn’t right. Deadheads did not migrate in the last decade that we had observed. Either way it was a gift, slow moving meant more time.

  Not that time would help us much.

  I jumped down from the wall pegs, thinking about our disaster preparedness planning. There was no contingency for this. No account for a new holy shit event. Why would we need one with our vampire protection? It was something that would have been laughed out of council.

  In a daze, I walked over to the crowd and edged in beside Cole.

  Things did not appear to be going well, Ben had slapped some guy who was gibbering nonsense.

  “What the hell man...what the hell.” Someone else stepped to the man’s defense, not that the third man was threatening, he didn’t stand past Ben’s chin.

  “Shut up.” Ben snapped at him as if he were a child.

  “You mother f-“

  “Why don’t you just back off!” Other voices added to the chaos, a rising crescendo of fear driven by memory.

  “Everyone calm down, we need to think this through and develop a strategy before it’s too late. Rational and calm people or I’m kicking your asses outta here.” The man who was clearly in charge barked stepping into the center of the group. Scanning the crowd one by one to make sure they understood. Those steel grey eyes fell on me for a fraction of a second then continued on. Eyes belonging to Rylie Everen.

  The Rylie Everen.

  There were many that thought Zack’s appointment to the council should have gone to him. Hell, probably more folks that would say the same for yours truly. We’d never spoken a word to each other, but I knew of him and I could only assume he had heard of me.

  Rylie was a colony man, a guard on the north end before the wall was even done. He pulled long hours, double shifts working with any weapon available, anything for the safety of the community. Fiercely loyal to the council, he was level headed and dependable. Before the outbreak he had been in in the Army, serving in Afghanistan for a number of years. This made him one of the few real soldiers who survived.

  His was a face scarred, shrapnel from a homemade concoction during the first year of the deadheads had grazed the side of his face. His left ear was also said to be mangled, but none would know from looking at him. The truth was hidden under waves of black hair that was cut just abo
ve his collar line. What was visible allowed him to pass for an attractive man despite the fact that his nose had obviously been busted a few times; strong jaw masked in a perpetual five o’clock shadow, a pair of deep set eyes that had the single girls whispering when he went by, naturally tan skin always covered in threads that screamed utility, military camo and cargos. Although his commanding presence came not from his clothes or his height-which I’m guessing was about six foot even-but from his booming voice and aura of command.

  If don’t screw with me was a cologne, he’d be in all the commercials.

  When Rylie spoke, it worked. His singular tone cut through them all.

  Everyone at once took Ben’s advice; they shut the hell up.

  “Now what are our options?” Rylie put his hands on his hips when he spoke.

  “Molotov’s?”

  “Stupid. Next.”

  “We could send someone out as bait, have them run around till nightfall?” Cole offered up. My chest tightened, if he thought he was going to volunteer for that we were going to have more than words exchanged. To my relief, Rylie didn’t seem too into it either.

  “Possible, but I’m not putting our people in harm’s way like that if we don’t have to. It’s likely a death sentence.”

  “We could just wait it out till nightfall?” Several people agreed, someone shouted let the blood suckers handle it which incurred even more cheers. Rylie shook his head.

  “There is a damned sea out there! Bodily force alone they are going to cause serious damage quickly, not to mention if they start stacking.”

  Silence stretched on for minutes that felt like hours, maybe it was a blink of an eye. All I know is my mouth was the next one moving. “How many ranged weapons do we have?”

  “We’ve got a few crossbows, a couple of old fashioned pull backs in the shack.” Rylie looked me in the eye with an intensity that made me feel like he was looking through me when he spoke.

 

‹ Prev