“This was tied around a rock. It must have been thrown over the wall yesterday. The gate guard said he’d noticed it last night but hadn’t thought anything of it. When he got off this morning, he walked past it again and stopped to check it out.”
Dax nodded as he looked at the sheet. When he didn’t speak quickly enough for my liking, I jumped to my feet and read it over his arm.
“‘Give us the Plaguer and we’ll give you back the little girl. Leave your response in the stump,’” I read aloud, knowing Bookie, Fudge, and Tank were waiting to hear.
There was no signature but a weird mark at the bottom that looked like poorly drawn crossbones.
“What is this? Who left this?” I asked, looking to see if any of them recognized the symbol.
Dax spoke as the rest of them remained quiet: “Skinners.”
“Skinners?”
Fudge gasped. I turned just in time to see the little hope she’d been clinging to drain from her. Her hand went over her mouth and she scrambled from the room without saying anything.
“What’s a Skinner?” I asked.
“After the Bloody Death, a group of people in the Wilds went crazy. They started hunting other humans and skinning the flesh from their bodies. Somehow they got the notion that it warded off the sickness, and convinced some others of this as well,” Dax explained.
“What the…” And then I remembered the first time I’d ever met Fudge, and the reason I’d hated the visions for so long. When I saw people’s memories, I didn’t get the bystander view; I was in their heads. It felt as if I were living through the ordeals myself sometimes.
Fudge’s had been particularly terrifying, and in a world full of brutality, that really meant something. I could picture it like I’d seen it yesterday, could see out of her eyes as she sat beside a fire, watching those people painted with blood markings all over their bodies, being forced to watch her parents being skinned alive in front of her. Those people had sliced the skin off her mother and father as if trying to preserve their hides before tossing their flesh in a pile, along with the hides of the victims before them.
As if the vision hadn’t been bad enough, the sounds that went along with it had made it even worse. The screams of pain that slowly devolved to guttural moans as they’d died a horrific death. The smell of blood that filled the air and mingled with the scent of urine as the overwhelming pain and fear forced their victims to lose control of their bodies.
Who knew how long it would’ve gone on and what would have happened to Fudge if two beasts hadn’t ripped into the camp. Dax and his brother had saved Fudge from the same fate, but not soon enough to save her family from that horror.
Now these same people had Tiffy and wanted me.
The room was suddenly too small and the people too close. I moved without thought until I found myself by the table in the dining area, five or so feet away.
The thoughts spun in my head so fast that I couldn’t grasp just one. I heard a muffled weeping, the likes I’d never heard before, not since my time in the Cement Giant, and I knew it came from the bedroom Fudge had gone into.
I searched out the people in the room, as if I could find some sort of answers there. Dax was silent, but still, as if he were working out all the implications in his head. Rocky was talking to Bookie and Tank in a quiet tone as the three of them took turns looking my way.
There was chair right behind me, and I was grateful for it, not that I would’ve crumbled to the ground. I’d been through enough bad times that I could force my body to go on autopilot in the worst of situations, but this one was testing the limits. Why was the harm done to those we cared for so much harder to cope with?
These monsters, Skinners, as they’d called them, had done this to get to me. I couldn’t fall apart, but my gut tensed and I had to shove my hands underneath my legs to hide their shaking, which was splitting the lion’s share of my energy with my brain, spinning with thoughts quicker than I could compute.
Rocky glanced over at me as if he was trying to decipher a puzzle and had just realized he might be missing some pieces. Instead of asking me, he turned to Dax and asked, “Any idea why the Skinners would want Dal? Newco, Dark Walkers, now the Skinners, too? Most people don’t want Plaguers around. Why are they all trying to get her?”
“She can ID Dark Walkers. That’s a valuable thing in this world for those who believe,” Dax said.
I hoped that was all. Not even Dax knew Ms. Edith had called me the key. I hadn’t told Bookie, either. No one knew but me and her, and the dead don’t tell secrets.
Rocky looked at me again. “And that’s all there is to it?”
“Yes.” There was an edge to Dax’s voice that clearly told Rocky to back off. I never thought I’d hear that tone and like it.
Rocky heard his warning, but it took him a second before he made the decision to do as suggested. I didn’t know him, but I was glad. Rocky seemed like a nice enough guy, and I’d hate to see him come to blows with Dax. I didn’t care how tough you were—no mortal was going to be able to take on a beast. It would come to blows, too. Dax didn’t back down. He only paused while he was figuring out a better way to annihilate you.
“How did she piss off the Skinners, too?” Tank asked, obviously having missed the warning Dax had shot Rocky. “It’s a valid question,” he said when he caught a stare from Dax.
“It doesn’t matter. She’s not going,” Bookie said, dragging all the attention to him as he positioned himself next to my chair. “We’ll get Tiffy back another way. Dal isn’t going to them, not even for a day.”
“Don’t tell me what she’s going to do,” Dax said.
Bookie took a couple of steps toward him and away from me. This wasn’t Bookie, the kid, my age, who stayed in Dax’s shadow, but Bookie the man emerging.
I leaned an elbow on the table beside me and then rested my forehead on my palm. It didn’t matter what Bookie or anyone else said. I wouldn’t let Tiffy hang for me, even if I didn’t know my crime. I just needed to get my equilibrium back before I took on the fight.
Bookie was getting his back up. He would throw himself into a volcano if he thought it was the right and noble thing to do. “Bookie, I’ve got to go if they—”
“You aren’t going anywhere,” Dax said, shutting me down before I had a chance to shut down Bookie.
From the read on the tension in the room, I was officially out of time. Luckily I had practice at not having what I wanted. I stood and walked over to the two of them and then stepped in between them. “It’s my call. I say whether I go, and I say I go.”
“No.”
My ears hurt as they both barked at me in unison. It was a surprise from both sides. Bookie never shouted at me. He was more soft-spoken in a laid-back sort of way. Dax didn’t usually raise his voice either, but it had nothing to do with being kind.
“We set up a swap. If they have her, I go. She’s six! She can’t handle this. I can. It’s my decision and I’ll make it. I’m not saying I’m going to go and not expect a rescue effort, but we can’t leave Tiffy there. I go, we get her back, and then you guys figure out how to rescue me.” I looked at the four of them, wondering if Rocky might be of any help.
“It’s not that easy,” Bookie said.
“If you could get me out of the Cement Giant, you can get me out of there.”
Rocky was shaking his head and Dax wasn’t shaking anything. He looked completely unmovable.
“Their place is…” Rocky ran a roughened palm over his hair. Besides Dax, Rocky was one of the toughest SOBs I’d ever met. When he looked worried, I got worried.
Bookie spoke. “They’re a vile people who’ve made a lot of enemies. They don’t leave themselves vulnerable to attack. They don’t have soft spots.”
Did everyone know about these Skinners but me? Might have been noteworthy when I moved to the Wilds to mention that oh yeah, besides the pirates and the bounty hunters and beasts, we’ve also got a tribe of people that skin human beings al
ive. This place needed a welcome center or something.
I stood there in the borrowed living room and realized this was similar to being back in the Cement Giant. I could either let myself drown in worry and defeat or I could decide we were going to get Tiffy out and figure out how we were going to make it happen, because I was not going down as a pessimist.
“Bookie, give me a pencil,” I said, knowing he’d have one stashed on him somewhere.
I grabbed the note from Dax and scribbled on the back.
Name a time and place for a meeting.
Dax grabbed the message from me and I said, “I didn’t specify swap. I left it open. Now where’s this stump place?”
“It’s a giant old oak stump that is used to relay messages out in the middle of an empty field,” Rocky explained.
“We send the message but there won’t be a swap,” Dax said.
“We have to do something. Whether it happens or not is still up to us, but if they have her, we need to keep her alive until we can get her out.”
Dax took the note and handed it to Rocky. “Have someone put it in the stump.”
“I’ll do it,” Bookie said.
“I’ll have one of my people go with you.”
Rocky and Bookie both walked out the door, and I went to follow, having every intention of sticking that letter in the stump myself to make sure it got there, but Dax stepped in front of the door and stopped me.
“They’ll have the place watched. You get caught and then we’ll have neither of you.”
Chapter 18
I’d been sitting at the kitchen table fidgeting with a broken watch Bookie had given me. Just like the Tiffy situation, I didn’t have the right tools to fix this either. But it was all I could do not to go insane. I sat there and stared at a million little pieces and tried to figure out how they worked, when I couldn’t even figure out how to fix the broken pieces in me. Dax had said that my aptitude was aim. If I could get my magic back, what if I could figure out how to set my aim on Tiffy?
And now of all nights, I was supposed to go to dinner? Rocky had stopped by a couple of hours after someone dropped off the note and invited us to a meal tonight. Fudge had been too tired go anywhere, and no one faulted her for it. Bookie said he’d stay behind and keep an eye on Fudge. Tank was watching this stump place with some of Rocky’s guys.
When he’d come by to invite us, but mostly me, he hadn’t said it, but there was a certain nuance to the invite that made it clear—the delivery might have been polite, but I needed to be there.
It didn’t matter if anyone else went. That wasn’t the purpose of the invitation anyway, whether anyone realized it or not. Tonight’s dinner was to be a sideshow event, and I was the star. Step right up and see the freak, folks.
I was positive that the guard who’d found the note today had told everyone in camp that not only was I a Plaguer, but that I was important enough that the Skinners were sniffing around their home to get me. I had a feeling it was either go to dinner or the people here would try to put me on the spit to burn.
It wasn’t that I didn’t understand the issue. Rocky needed to give his people a closer look at the Plaguer, maybe steady some nerves and show them that he wasn’t afraid to break bread with the diseased one and I wasn’t some horrible threat. I was just some scrawny, helpless girl and no one needed to worry.
That was great for them, but I didn’t want to go to dinner. I wanted to be staking out this stump place with Tank and Rocky’s people. I wanted to sit here and figure out what was wrong with me. The visions were still gone, and I couldn’t count on being able to nail someone in the heart if needed. I was almost like a regular human these days for what it was worth, and that was a big problem as far as I was concerned. I needed to be a badass, not a Sally Mae or some shit if I was going to save Tiffy. The things I should’ve been doing ran a mile long, and a dinner party was not on that list.
“You coming?” Dax asked as he walked into the house. I hadn’t expected him to come back before dinner. I’d figured I’d met him there. He’d never escorted me anywhere, so why would I imagine he’d do it now?
I nodded after the slightest delay. It was hard to be excited about the evening to come.
“You don’t have to go,” Dax said, and I could hear the steel behind the words. He meant it. He’d burn at the spit with me if that was what I decided to do. Or rip through the camp, which was more likely. Neither was a desirable outcome.
Sometimes Dax absolutely confounded me. Just when I expected him to throw on the dictator hat, he acted like the man again, and a loyal one that would burn with me. That was the other problem. I didn’t want the whole group to be shunned or run off because I was here. If I didn’t go, they’d catch the heat too, and we couldn’t leave this place right now, not with Tiffy missing.
I placed the broken watch shell on the table. “Free meal. What the hell?”
“I can bring you something back,” he said, almost like he wanted me to tell them to go screw.
Didn’t he care about the uproar this place could break into if I didn’t go? They wanted to see what kind of monster brought Skinners to their walls, and they weren’t going to be happy if they didn’t get a show.
“No.” This had to happen, and I knew it.
I stood up, straightened my shoulders, and stiffened my spine. Dax’s eyes shot to my bare hands. The ugly scar was on full display. I’d left the gloves lying on the dresser in the bedroom. I had my pride. It didn’t matter, as people knew what I was anyway, but I wasn’t hiding.
They wanted a close-up look at the Plaguer? So be it. They could see every ugly inch of me. I was learning that skinning some flesh off and getting rid of the P wasn’t enough to shed the title.
I thought I saw respect there in his eyes. He walked to the door and waited for me. I wiped moist palms on legs that looked much sturdier than they felt. I shoved my hands in my pockets and then pulled them out again, ready to curse myself out before I showed these people any weakness.
Screw them if they didn’t like me. It was silly to be nervous. They were just a new bunch of people. So what if they didn’t want me here? When had I started caring what other people thought or wanted?
Still, my legs seemed to care, because I had a hard time making them move fast enough to keep pace with Dax, but I did just that, edging out in front of him. I wasn’t looking for a shield, either. Didn’t need one.
“You’d do Moobie proud,” Dax said as we walked.
“Thanks,” I said with as much bravado as I could drum up, and felt a little tougher.
I heard the group before I saw them. The long picnic table actually appeared to be several all butted up against each other where it sat alongside the lake, people lining the sides of it.
Fifteen strangers and one scorned Becca all looked at me in partial disgust, and occasionally not so partial. They were quick to mask it as Dax looked around, but I’d seen that look enough in my life to recognize it.
Fuck them. I didn’t need these people.
“There you are, late as always,” Rocky said as he walked over from the side, and he headed toward us like a jovial host and not the person who’d practically demanded my presence. He turned to the group with a palm on my shoulder, clearly making a point of touching me that didn’t go unnoticed by the eyes that were now looking at his hand. “You all know Dax, but let me introduce you to Dal. She’ll be staying here with us for a while.”
A sea of forced smiles stared back at me.
“Dax, come talk to me for a minute?” Rocky said. I felt Dax’s eyes land on me, but I refused to look at him or acknowledge any fear of being left alone. I took a step toward the table and heard Dax step away with Rocky a few seconds later.
The long makeshift table was huge, with only two seats not taken. One was sandwiched between where Rocky must have been sitting and where Becca currently sat. Rocky had probably saved that seat for Dax. The other was down toward the other end, and I moved in that direction. I migh
t be better off on my own than next to Becca. Of all the places we’d ended up, why couldn’t this have been the place Margo went?
I took my seat, as the people on either side of me tried to scoot a few more inches down the bench away from me. I placed an elbow on the table and a hand in the air. I gave them a good look at the scar and a hush fell over the table. Ladies and gentlemen, let the show begin.
The silence didn’t last too long, as they got over the shock of a Plaguer at their table and began talking to each other. No one spoke to me. I hadn’t expected them to.
A minute or so later, a few people walked out with arms laden with bowls and plates overflowing with food. The bowls were passed around as the people sitting on either side of Dax’s and Rocky’s empty seats filled their plates before passing the food around.
My mouth was salivating as I watched the mashed potato shrinking as it made its way to me. I’d barely eaten since Tiffy had disappeared, and my stomach was telling me it wasn’t going to stand for it any longer, no matter the circumstances.
By the time the bowl was plunked in front of me, I scraped the sides but only managed to salvage a bite or two. Who was in charge of the cooking in this place? Didn’t they know how to figure out how many portions they needed? The sound of another spoon clanking against a bowl got my hopes up. I barely managed to get a couple of peas as I turned the bowl upside down over my plate. I surveyed the other end of the table to watch the last of what looked like tea being emptied.
At least there was still steak to be had. Red meat could make up for a lot. I looked in the center of the table. Where was the steak? I knew that was the main course because I’d seen it on people’s plates. Then I saw an empty platter sitting there. They hadn’t even counted enough steaks?
How many of us got screwed out of the main course? I looked at the plates about the table, and that was when I noticed how several people didn’t just have one steak, but two. That was also when I noticed the smirking and whispering to each other.
The Hunt (The Wilds Book Two) Page 12