The Dead_Wilds Three

by Donna Augustine

  As I watched, Rocky brushed his hand beneath his nose, and it almost seemed like everything had slowed down. He raised his hand and saw the blood on his fingers, while I remembered a scene just like this not long ago. His face drained of blood and I could see the effort it took him to stay on his feet as the truth of the situation hit like a punch to the gut.

  His gaze rose to mine and there wasn’t any need for words. I saw it all there in his eyes. He was a dead man walking and he knew it.

  My legs felt like wooden appendages but I forced myself go to him, even as I relived my own nightmare.

  “Rocky, it’s going to be okay,” I said, thinking back to how I’d said the same thing to Bookie and how that had ended. “We’ve got a lead on a cure.”

  He wasn’t listening, and I didn’t have the strength to make him. I wasn’t delusional enough this time around to fill his head with promises that seemed beyond reach.

  Dax appeared beside me. “I’m going to put him in our cabin,” he said, immediately picking up the slack as I stood frozen, and Rocky looked like he’d already seen his grave.

  Dax’s action finally spurred me and I sensed the threat all around. The pirates on deck looked like if they weren’t afraid of touching Rocky, he would’ve been thrown overboard already.

  Dax grabbed Rocky’s arm and threw it over his shoulder.

  “I’m going to go talk to Jacob,” I told him.

  Dax nodded, completely in sync. If Rocky had one chance, it was us getting that cure, and soon. But if we couldn’t get Jacob to protect Rocky while we were doing it, he’d be killed by the pirates before the Bloody Death had a chance to finish him.

  I took off toward Jacob’s cabin as if the devil himself had just started the stopwatch.

  * * *

  Jacob’s door was already open, and I could hear them talking before I stepped inside the cabin. Stinky and Murrell were standing beside Jacob’s desk, where the man himself was seated. They all turned and looked at me.

  “Go,” Jacob said to them. “And shut the door on your way out.”

  They both gave me a wide berth as they left, I’m sure having witnessed how close I’d been to Rocky on deck.

  Jacob got up from his desk and walked over to the porthole, looking out and shaking his head as I walked over. I didn’t bother sitting this time, as I wouldn’t be staying long.

  I had one shot at saving Rocky, and the window to do it in was seventy-two hours, at most.

  There was no time to explain what I knew the pirates had already told him, so I cut to the point quickly. “Can he stay here?” I wasn’t sure what I was going to do if Jacob said no, or to what lengths I’d force the issue.

  His hand was fisted on his hip. “Dammit. This is why I don’t let just anyone on my ships.”

  I knew he wasn’t speaking to me, but I didn’t have time to wait for him to come to grips with the realization that he and all his pirates might already be exposed.

  “I have one shot of getting the cure. If I have to take Rocky with me, I’ll be that much slower. And when I get the cure, I might not make it back if I have no reason to return. He’s already been in contact with enough of your crew that you want me to have a reason to come back. None of us have time to waste.”

  He looked at me like I’d personally spread the disease myself, but nodded. My feelings about Jacob ran the gamut, but the one thing I was sure of was that he was a pragmatist.

  “I want what you have left of the cure the Skinners gave you before you leave.”

  And now I was going to find out how much I wanted to save Rocky. “They said it didn’t work. That it made them sick.”

  “I’ll keep him on the ship, but I want it,” he said, and I wondered if he thought I was trying to save it for Dax. He didn’t know Dax couldn’t get sick. If I left it with Jacob, he might take it. But I’d warned him. My code, normally so crystal clear, suddenly looked a bit grey around the edges.

  Then I heard myself say, “You can have it, but I don’t want Rocky’s body thrown overboard, even if he dies before I get back.” Or he died because they thought it was the best way to handle the disease and decided to change the circumstances of his death in their explanations.

  “I’ll give you four days. I won’t have someone decaying from the Bloody Death on my ship.”

  “I won’t need four days.” If I didn’t get back in less than three, he’d be dead anyway.

  “You better not. I’ll get a boat ready to take you to the mainland.”

  I didn’t wait for him to say anything else and rushed to the cabin to find Dax. He was tucking a couple of jars of water beside Rocky, along with some jerky. It was as good as it was going to get. I didn’t have the option of staying behind and nursing him, and I knew from firsthand experience that I wouldn’t be of much use anyway. I hadn’t been to Bookie. Once the disease took them, they didn’t eat or drink.

  Rocky was already breaking out in a sweat. I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain setting in or the fever. I grabbed his hand. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Hold on.”

  He nodded, and I let go of him and grabbed my bag, which was always packed and ready.

  Dax grabbed his and I watched as he reset my booby traps quickly before we walked out.

  He shut the door to the cabin and I said, “Hang on. I’ve got to give Jacob the cure we got from the Skinners before we leave. That’s the price to protect Rocky while we’re gone.”

  “Does he know everything?” Dax asked.

  “Yes,” I said as I pictured Jacob when I’d told him. “But I don’t think he believes me, and he’s demanding it.”

  “Then there’s nothing else you can do,” Dax said, so matter of fact.

  “No. I guess there isn’t,” I said, not having nearly the same confidence in my tone as I clutched what was left of the cure, possibly poison in my hand.

  30

  Stinky couldn’t get us to the shore quickly enough. Once we reached the beach, we wasted no time setting out. Even at a run most of the way, it took a good hour for Dax and me to get to Bitters. I almost wished I was still back at the Rock, and Dax and I were still fighting over afternoon activities and what Rocky wanted from me. If we were swapping verbal punches, my mind wouldn’t have time to be running around Worst-case Scenario Land in the pitch dark without a map showing me how to get out of the emotional tornado that was my emotions.

  Give me a monster and I could handle it. I knew how to fight them. That was a landscape I could find my way around. How did you fight a disease? No one to punch, no one to kill—you were a bystander and no one would let you get a blow in. This disease made me feel more helpless than I’d ever felt at the Cement Giant.

  Bitters opened the door before we got to it. “You’re early!” he yelled before ducking back in.

  “We didn’t have a choice,” I said, not caring if he was annoyed. I was just happy he didn’t have one of those pungent cigarettes out.

  “It’s like that, is it?” he said.

  “Yeah,” Dax said from where he walked in behind me.

  Bitters shook his head and walked over to a line of steins sitting on his mantle. He grabbed the one on the end, hesitated, and put it back before picking up the one next to it. He gave it a sniff and turned his head quickly before he nodded to himself.

  “It should be brewing some more, but it’ll probably get the job done,” he told us as he walked over.

  “Drink half of this,” Bitters said, handing the stein to Dax.

  I knew it must have tasted as bad as it smelled from the expression on Dax’s face as he tilted it and then chugged his portion. I already dreaded drinking the other half, which was most likely reserved for me.

  Dax handed the stein to me, under the same assumption. I stalled for a second, waiting to make sure Dax didn’t keel over dead or anything. Other than disliking the drink, Dax didn’t appear any worse off.

  Bitters reached out and urged the stein to my lips. “Drink it!”

  I nodded. Th
e smell of rotten eggs was unavoidable, and I knew that my only shot of getting this down was to do it quickly. Stein tilted back, I chugged until I was nearly choking on the vile concoction.

  “Don’t throw it back up!” Bitters said, as if I wasn’t fighting to keep it down.

  I thought he was going to say something about it ruining the spell if I did, but then he continued, “I haven’t had my lunch yet and I don’t feel like making another batch.”

  I waved my hand in front of my face, like that was somehow going to keep the stuff down, until I finally won over my stomach’s better instincts. I took a tentative breath, testing the passage before I said, “I’m good.”

  “Now hold hands and be quiet,” Bitters said.

  I could feel the roughness of Dax’s hands and wondered if they’d always been like that or if helping out on the boat had changed their surface. They felt good, confident and strong, their grip sure, like if you were to shake hands with him, you would trust his word. And I did trust him. I’d better, since I still wasn’t sure I trusted Bitters.

  “One soul tied to another, bound to walk the Earth together. While one remains, so does the other…”

  The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, saturated, and the warmth in my chest grew hot, as if my own magic was waking up along with the spell. A tingling sensation was surging through Dax’s fingers and spreading to mine.

  I looked over at Bitters, wondering how much longer this would go on, and I saw the obvious discontent on his face as he continued. If I wasn’t worried about ruining the spell by interrupting him, I would’ve asked what had him so pissed off.

  He finally finished, and I didn’t have to wait long to find out. “Letting me know how much magic you both have would’ve been beneficial!”

  “Sorry! I didn’t know how much we had,” I said. No one had given me a magic chart or said it was important information.

  Dax, with the exact opposite approach, said, “You’re the wizard. Shouldn’t you know these things?”

  “I don’t go poking around in other people’s mojo. It’s rude!” Bitters took his stein back from me and placed it back on the mantel, and I had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t going to be washed. It wasn’t a good thought to dwell on, as the contents of my stomach could still come up.

  “What’s the problem with the magic?” I asked, preferring to hear that than to imagine how many uses the stein had before us.

  “That spell isn’t meant for folks with this much magic. All sorts of shit could’ve gone wrong.”

  “But it didn’t, right?” I didn’t feel any different. Dax looked pretty much the same. The place wasn’t on fire from some strange fireball out of the sky.

  “I don’t think so, but who knows. Magic doesn’t always show its cards right away. Sometimes it likes to sneak up on a person.” Bitters waved his hands about and then took a swig from a bottle he had on the table that, even though was clear, I suspected wasn’t water. “Either way, it’s done now and it’s not my problem.”

  “So it’s finished?” I asked, not feeling any different. I’d never had a spell cast on me, but a logical person would assume they’d feel something, even if it were as small as a tingle in your belly.

  “Yep. You’re good to go.”

  “You’re sure it’s going to work?” Dax asked, and I guessed he was waiting for that special tingle, too.

  “It’ll work because all my magic works. How else do you think I got to be so damn old? If you like, I can stab her in the chest to demonstrate, but it might be a bit traumatic for her.”

  I thought he was jesting, until he made a move toward my knife on my hip.

  I held up a hand to ward off a demonstrative attack and stepped well out of his reach. “That’ll be quite all right.”

  “Good. Now get out. It’s going to take all damn day to clear this room of the magic you two let loose, and I’ve got other things I need to do.” He opened the door, a clear indication that he meant get out right now, and we didn’t hesitate. By my count, we had seventy hours, tops, left. “I’ll send you my bill,” he yelled after us, and I wondered where he thought he was sending it.

  * * *

  The moment we stepped out of Bitters’, I hoped to hear the chimes, but of course I didn’t. Why? Because that would’ve been too easy, of course, and my gut was telling me I was going to have to do a little finagling.

  “I need a denser forest.”

  Dax nodded. “I know where we can go. Come on.”

  “Hang on,” I said, pulling back when he would’ve urged me on. “I need to go alone. If you’re there, what was the point of the spell?” I could see the hesitance, and spoke before he dug in. “They can’t kill me if they can’t get to you, right? Isn’t that the whole point of this?”

  “There’s things that are worse than death, and I’m tough to kill, even if I’m there.”

  “You know I’m right. It’s safer if you go somewhere they can’t get to you, like on the beach, right smack near the salt water. They hate it there. You are my lifeline, and I’m the only hope of talking to them, which is the only possibility of getting the Dark Walker to help us to get a cure.” It was all true. The only thing I didn’t add was that if for some reason this spell didn’t work and I was killed, he wouldn’t be anywhere near them because I couldn’t handle any more blood on my hands.

  “You know I’m aware of all this. You couldn’t have just said, ‘I prefer you to leave’?”

  “I could have, but I felt it lacked the same dramatic impact.” Not like I needed more drama at the moment, but it was a hard habit to break.

  “I think it would’ve been fine.”

  “Are you sure? I’ve never seen people go crazy over your stories.”

  “Because I don’t tell any.”

  “Is it because you’re bad at it?”

  “You know what? I’m going to do what you want just to end this conversation.”

  “A win’s a win.” This was what I had missed. That even in the face of a disaster, he didn’t panic. Dax never panicked, and somehow it calmed me down. Like yeah, things were tough right now, but we’d get through it and live another day because he wouldn’t quit and neither would I. Some people are made up of hopes and dreams, rainbows and sunshine. Dax was made up of hard, solid truths and immoveable boulders. It might not seem as pretty as fluffy white clouds in the sky, but when you leaned against a boulder, it didn’t shift out from underneath you.

  He kicked the ground and made a smooth patch of earth and then grabbed a branch, drawing directions. “This is a straight shot to the densest forest in these parts. Meet me here afterward,” he said, making an X due west of the spot. “You shouldn’t need more than a few hours.”

  I nodded.

  “You have both knives?” he asked, only seeing the one at my hip, and not the concealed one that was tucked into my boot and under my pants.

  “Yes.”

  “Three hours.”

  “I got this.”

  His eyes went all sorts of soft before he said, “I know you do.” His fingers grazed my cheek before he walked off.

  He did? Okay, he did.

  * * *

  I was happy I was wearing my thickest pair of leather pants today, as the branches and brush were dense. As I made my way into the heart of the forest, I realized this place must have predated the Glory Years. Some of the trees looked to be twisted with age and at least a couple centuries old, and the air seemed almost drenched in ancient magic.

  As soon as I found a clearing that was big enough to stretch my arms out, I looked around. The entire way here, I’d waited to hear the chimes. I didn’t, but I knew the Wood Mist were near. I felt them, like their magic was poking and prodding at me, looking for my soft spots. All it did was make me stoke up a fire of my own.

  “You wanted to talk. Here I am. Let’s hear it.” I lifted my hands, in a come and get me if you can challenge, and waited for a sparkle in the air.

  Silence. Okay, I’d expected
they might play a little hard to get now after being rejected for weeks. I’d probably do the same, but they were here. They’d been dogging my steps for too long. I didn’t believe for a moment they didn’t know exactly where I was. I found a nearby log, figuring I might as well make myself comfortable while I waited for them to stop playing games and being stubborn.

  “You know, you did try to kill me last time. Was I supposed to be tripping over myself for another go at it?” I asked. I crossed my ankles while I tried not to think of the time I was wasting on these things. I wondered if we were better off trying to force the information out of Croq without trying to convince the Wood Mist to reverse the curse. The only thing that kept me seated was remembering how well it hadn’t worked with Dark Walkers in the past.

  I forced myself to lean back on a tree trunk behind me and keep the tension from my face. If they knew how badly I needed them right now, it was all over.

  I could feel them getting closer. Their magic pushed at me, trying to find a way in, but I was a lot stronger than the last time we’d met. And I’d been willing then. I wasn’t ready to open the door and invite them in this time.

  They probed, with considerably more strength each time, for a good fifteen minutes before a single robed, faceless body appeared before me. I could live with the robe, even though it was a touch dramatic, but I hated the no-face thing.

  I stood. I didn’t know why. Sitting or standing probably didn’t change my odds much. This wouldn’t be a knife fight or a battle of physical strength, but it felt better somehow. If I did die, I wanted to go down giving it everything I had.

  When it didn’t speak, I decided to plunge in and get the negotiations rolling. I didn’t have time to work things out on their schedule.

  “The Dark Walkers say you cursed them.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I still waited for a denial. When one didn’t come, I continued. “They’re the cause of the Bloody Death, but I’m guessing you already know that.” No reply. Thing couldn’t at least nod or something? “I need you to fix one of their people so that I can get the information I need.”