by Tracey Ward
“You’ve only seen one room.”
“And it’s big. What about the rest of the place?”
I shift on my feet. “It’s big.”
“Called it.”
“There’s an airplane inside. A fake tree. A foot car.”
“What’s a foot car?”
I shrug. “It’s a pink car shaped like a foot. They told me it’s a toe truck, then they laughed. I didn’t get it.”
“I don’t either.”
We both look at Trent. He’s not listening.
“How long are we waiting?” he asks, staring at the darkened doorway.
“Until they come get us. That’s the plan.”
“Are we sticking to that?”
I glance down at the hole in the center of the room and I wonder if Bryan can hear us. I’m guessing yes. Yes, he can.
“I don’t want to,” I admit.
“Then why are we doing it?”
“Just because I don’t want to do something, it doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”
“It usually means it is the right thing,” Ryan says.
I look at him sharply. “What does that mean?”
“I didn’t mean it about you specifically. I meant in general—screw it, you’ll be mad no matter what. Let’s just move on.”
“With me mad?”
“I’m learning to live with it.”
“I personally like it,” Trent tells me with a smile.
“Lucky you,” Ryan grumbles.
I fully turn on him. “And what does that mean?”
“It means we’re wasting time. What’s the plan?”
“We wait here.”
“That’s their plan. What’s our plan?”
“We don’t have a plan. We never do. We just kind of do things and see where that takes us. So far, it’s made us more enemies than I can count and landed us almost dead a few times, so maybe we should follow their plan and wait here.”
There’s a commotion from upstairs. A crash, a shout, the sound of furniture being shoved across the floor. The cannibals could be fighting the Team Leaders—the Melanies and the Carolines that I didn’t kill—and that would be good. That would be what they’re here for.
Or they could be fighting the innocents. The women from the sewing room. The guys from the barns. The girls from the greenhouse. The kitchen crew. The workers. The stolen. Nats. Vin.
I break into a sprint, tearing through the doorway toward the stairs. It’s dark in here—too dark, more so than I’ve ever seen it, but I’m used to the dark. I hear Trent and Ryan behind me just like they were when we ran to my building. When we were laughing and I had fun and felt so free.
I bound up the back stairs to head straight for the dining area, where I’m pretty sure the noise is coming from. As we get closer, I hear plastic clatter to the floor and then another shout rings out. It’s a woman. I run harder, bursting through the door and running right into someone’s back.
We both go down. I hit the cement floor on my shoulder, my body weight landing on my injured arm. Suddenly I’m seeing stars. I think I even cry out. I don’t know who I ran into but they’re up off the ground instantly and towering over me as I clutch my throbbing arm. They raise their own arm, a long, dark thickness extending off of it that could be a bat or a rolling pin. Either way, they’re planning to bring it down on my face. I use my legs to sweep theirs; it’s easy on this slick floor. They go down again and this time they stay there for a second, groaning. I don’t give them a chance to recover. Quickly, I rise up on my knees and come down on their face with my fist.
A warm spurt of liquid on my hand tells me I’ve broken their nose. Their pained scream tells me they’re not getting back up right now.
Ryan and Trent run in, do a quick survey of the situation, then jump over me and my fallen enemy to go deeper into the room where the fight is still going on. I roll up onto my knees just in time to see a fistfight come to an end. Ryan pulls one figure off another, spins him around, and drops him to the ground on his stomach. I hear an “oof,” the rushing of air leaving their lungs, then coughing. Trent has taken hold of the other figure and pinned his arm behind him until he dropped to his knees. I can hear him groaning against the pain he must be feeling in his shoulder. I’m praying Trent doesn’t dislocate the guy’s arm, because I’m not good with joint injuries. If I hear that distinct pop, I might vomit.
Instead, I hear a snap from the hallway. I spin around, my hand forgetting that it’s hurt and gripping my knife secured to my hip. My other hand clenches around my ASP, still coiled and small against my body, begging to come out and play.
Bright, unnatural light pours in from the hallway, highlighting three tall figures standing there. They don’t move for the longest time—too long to be comfortable. No one speaks. I barely breathe. I’m bathed in the light, blinded by the glare, and I can feel it from the tension in the air that the person looking at me knows me. But whether that’s good or bad is still up for debate. If this is one of Caroline’s friends, I’m dead and I know it.
When one of the figures moves, I’m wound so tightly I almost weep. He steps into the doorway, light spilling in from behind him, blotting out his features. There’s no way to tell who it is. No way to recognize him beyond his build and the way he moves, but that’s all I need. I know it in an instant. I know it in the way my stomach bottoms out, my heart screams in my chest, and the greatest sense of relief I’ve felt since Ryan opened his eyes in the water under that boat courses through my veins.
When he speaks, his voice deep, vibrant, and alive, I can’t hide the smile on my face.
“‘Bout fuckin’ time, Kitten.”
Chapter Seven
“Vin.”
“Where the hell have you been, huh?”
My smile drops into a scowl. “What do you mean ‘where have I been’? I’ve been out in the wild busting my butt to bring back help!”
“Took you long enough to come back.”
“At least I came back,” I snap hotly. “You’d be sitting in The Hive right now laughing it up with Marlow and pretending this place never existed.”
“Which is what you should be doing. Did you even go to Marlow? Who are these people you brought into my house?”
I stand up sharply. “Your house?! Have you gone native?”
I see the shadow of Vin shake his head in frustration. He gestures to one of the figures still hovering in the doorway. “Hit the rest of the lights, would you?”
The dining room lights snap on, making me blink rapidly, trying to adjust. The room is a mess, with tables knocked over, chairs shoved across the room, plastic plates scattered everywhere. But there’s no blood. Well, yeah, okay, there’s a little blood from where I broke someone’s face, but there’s no mortal wound amount of blood and that’s what matters. I don’t recognize the guy that Trent is holding onto, but Ryan has taken down one of the cannibals that came in with us. The person on the ground at my feet, however, is very familiar. So is the busted up shape of her face.
“Hey, Lexy,” I tell her wryly. “Long time no see.”
She presses the back of her hand to her bleeding nose. “Good to see you’re still a bitch.”
“Good to see you still can’t fight.”
I turn back to Vin, surprised to find him with short hair again. It had almost grown out the last time I saw him. He almost looked like a Lost Boy. Now he looks like a… well, a Colonist.
“What’s going on with you? What do you mean, ‘your house’?”
“I run this place.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
He grins. “Yes. What happened with Caroline kicked off a fight. By the end of that night everyone had heard that she was dead and I was as good as. Things were tense after that. Three days later someone snuck in. They tried to kill me.”
“Who?”
“The Leaders, who else?”
“No, who specifically tried to kill you?�
�
His eyes go cold, dark. “Breanne.”
I nod slowly. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”
“She knew better.”
“She should have, yeah.”
“All right, I answered you, now you answer me. These people aren’t Hive, so who are they? Pikes?”
“No. They’re cannibals.”
I’m surprised when he laughs long and hard. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” I reply hesitantly.
“Wow, Kitten. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that.”
“Did they hurt anyone?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt them?”
“Would it bother you if we did?”
Maybe. “No.”
“Hmm,” he hums, not believing me. “They’re fine. Caged, but fine. My guys took them down easily.”
“What guys? Since when is there anyone here willing to fight?”
“Since always. They were just looking for someone to follow. I found another Hive member after you left. Couple of Westies. They had just brought in those Elevens before you bailed. You were worried they were your boy…” His voice trails off as he looks over my head to Trent and Ryan behind me. His face lights up. “Ryan Hyperion? Are you kidding me? That’s your man, isn’t it?”
“Stop,” I mutter, knowing it’s useless.
He steps around me to go to Ryan and Trent. I’m surprised when he offers his hand to Ryan, then pulls him into a half embrace.
“Good to see you, man. I’ve watched you fight in the Arena. Your brother, too. That guy made me a lot of scratch. I’m sorry about what happened to him.”
Ryan nods, his expression guarded. “Thanks.”
“So you’re the guy Kitten is all hot and bothered over? Nice.”
I groan, letting my head fall back until I’m staring at the ceiling. “Why do you have to make everything sound dirty?”
“Speaking of,” he says, turning back to me. I meet his gaze as he looks me over slowly, then whistles softly. “You’re still a Benjamin, Kitten. I’m a little less impressed with Hyperion here. Or disappointed, depending.”
“Depending on what?”
His response is a sly grin.
I want to punch him, but what I feel the most, what knocks the angry hot wind out of my sails, is the fact that I also want to hug him. I hadn’t realized it until now, but I’ve missed him. He’s obnoxious, he’s frustrating, he’s rude, he’s cocky—but he’s Vin, and for some strange reason, I like him. Probably for the same reason I like Ryan and Trent. They’re honest. Annoying as Vin may be, he owns it. He is what he is and he’s not at all sorry.
“So you’re the King now, huh? The new Marlow?”
He shakes his head, his face falling serious. “No. I’m more like the president.”
“I don’t remember enough about life before the fall to know the difference.”
“A king is unchecked power,” Trent tells me. “He can pretty much do what he wants. A president answers to the people. Supposedly.”
“Why supposedly?”
“Depends on if he’s dirty.”
I look Vin up and down. “This one is dirty.”
He smiles at me as he closes the gap between us. “Not as much as I thought I’d be.”
“But a little more than they’d like you to be.”
“They who?”
“The people.”
“Nah, the people love me.”
“What about Marlow?” Ryan asks.
Vin doesn’t flinch. He also doesn’t turn to look at Ryan. He stares at me, his eyes intense and strange. He looks almost angry. “Marlow loves me too,” he purrs.
I narrow my eyes at him, not buying the everything-is-cookies-and-cream act. “Sounds like everybody loves you,” I reply quietly.
He nods in silent agreement.
“But will they still love when you won’t give them what they want?”
“And who am I denying in this scenario?”
“That’s kind of my point.”
“Ask what you’re asking.”
“You know what I’m asking. You know what I’m saying. These people want to be free. Marlow wants both them and the building. You can’t please everybody, so who will you make angry? Who isn’t going to love you in the morning, Vin?”
He leans in close, his breath hot on my face. He smells like candy—like sugar and sweetness, which is just about the weirdest thing ever, but that’s not what worries me. It’s his eyes and his words. They’re both hard and cold, like ice. “Same as always,” he whispers against my skin. “Whoever I screw.”
***
“Your pimp is going to screw us,” Trent tells me.
We’re standing in a small office tucked in the back of the building. Vin has taken it over, putting all of the wasted equipment in the corner—things like filing cabinets, telephones, computers, and inspirational posters telling us to hang in there and be determined to succeed. Thanks, random guy in a stiff-looking suit. I’ll be sure to keep in mind your advice the next time I’m cornered in the dark by flesh-devouring dead.
The cannibals have all been captured and put on lockdown somewhere in the building. I’m not sure what Vin has planned for them and I want to say I don’t care, but I do. I told the cannibals not to hurt any of the Colonists, and now that we’re on the flip side of that, my anxiety is still there. I guess I don’t want bloodshed of any kind, a fact that’s pretty surprising to me. Ask me a few months ago if I cared whose blood was on whose hands and I would have told you that I hope they all kill each other and leave me alone forever. But now here I stand in a building filled with cannibals, Colonists, Hive members, and Lost Boys, and suddenly I’ve lost my edge.
“Yeah, I know,” I mutter.
“Don’t call him her pimp,” Ryan snaps at Trent. “He’s a pimp, not her pimp.”
I glance at Ryan, surprised by his tone. “What’s your deal?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s something.”
“He’s jealous,” Trent says.
Ryan shakes his head in disgust. “Dammit, man.”
“What are you jealous of?” I ask, completely confused.
“He’s jealous of Vin.”
“Trent, seriously, shut up,” Ryan barks.
I frown at him. “Why are you so angry?”
“I’m not angry.”
“He’s jealous,” Trent repeats.
I touch Trent’s arm, hoping he’ll get the hint to shut his mouth for two seconds. “Why are you jealous of Vin?”
“I’m not.”
“He—”
I slap Trent’s arm hard. He finally gets the hint.
“I’m not jealous, all right?” Ryan tells me. “Or maybe I kind of am. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me.”
“He was obviously happy to see you.”
“Because I brought help.”
“That’s not why he was happy to see you. And there’s all that Benjamin talk and the way he looks at you.”
“He’s a pimp. It’s what he does.”
“I want him to stop.”
“He never will.”
“Then I’ll never like this guy.”
“You and nearly everyone else left alive. He’s not very likeable.”
“You like him,” Trent points out.
I close my eyes, wishing I could slap him again. “I do, yeah.”
“Why?” Ryan asks.
“Because he’s my friend,” I say weakly, feeling small talking about this. I’m exposing a chink in my armor. They already know I care about them; now there’s this Vin crap on top of it. If they find out I’m stressing over the welfare of a room full of cannibals they’ll probably take me out back and shoot me in the head because this pony has gone lame.
“A friend who’s going to screw us,” Trent points out.
“Maybe.”
“And you still like him?” Ryan asks, amazed and annoyed.
I shrug, feeling
uncomfortable. “It’s hard to explain.”
“If you have to choose sides, him or—”
“You,” I say firmly, looking him dead in the eye. “I will choose you. No question.”
Ryan grins slightly, almost grudgingly. “That’s not what I was going to ask.”
“Oh. What were you going to ask?”
“Him or the cannibals?”
“You. Still you. Whatever side you’re on, that’s where I am.”
“Even if I side against him?”
I chuckle. “I assume you will. Look, I’m not good at reading people or dealing with people. I also don’t have that selfless thing going that you do, so you’re my moral compass. I’ll follow you wherever you tell me to go.”
Ryan raises his eyebrows in surprise. “That’s a lot of faith.”
“I was ready to put my faith in Vin once. Compared to that, you’re a lock. Besides, Trent is stupid smart and he’d follow you to the ends of the earth, so it seems like a safe bet.”
“Unless you go to Canada,” Trent inserts.
Ryan balks. “Why would I go to Canada?”
“My point exactly. It’s cold. I don’t like cold.”
“We should go down to California.”
I shake my head. “Droughts. Fires.”
“Oregon?”
“How is that different from here?”
“Idaho?”
“That’s a worse idea than Canada.”
“You’re determined to hate everywhere, aren’t you?”
“Why does it matter? Are we going somewhere?”
“I don’t know, are we?”
I look at him skeptically. “Are we?”
“Are we?” Trent asks.
“Maybe,” Ryan answers softly.
My stomach churns as my gut tightens. I don’t know what this means for him or for me or for Trent. Is he seriously thinking about leaving here? We don’t know what the world outside of Seattle is like. It could be better, but it could definitely be worse. There could be more compounds like the Colonies, there could be bigger and badder gangs. There could be more zombies than we’ve seen in years or there could be wide open spaces, empty and thriving with life—real life, that doesn’t moan or groan.
It also makes me wonder why we’re doing all this. If he wants to leave, why don’t we just leave? Cut and run. This thing is in motion but there are plenty of bodies ready and willing to carry it out to the end. It doesn’t have be us. They need me to bridge this gap right now, but after that I’m useless. The cannibals have all hinted at that fact. We could leave tonight and never look back. Never remember.