Within These Walls: Series Box Set

by Tracey Ward

I stand in front of him, taking his face in my hands and pressing my body to his. His eyes turn wary. He knows what I’m doing, but he’s not about to stop me. He breathes in deeply before weaving his arms around my waist and holding me to him.

  “Please, Ryan,” I whisper, my eyes begging his. “Please don’t try to do this. You’re not a murderer. It’s not worth it.”

  He leans his head down until our foreheads are touching. “It is to me.”

  “Not to me. And if you die…” I can’t finish that sentence. I can’t even finish the thought.

  “If anything happens to me, Trent will get you out of the city. He’ll run with you.”

  “Why don’t you run with me now?”

  “Because it’s not only about you. It’s about every person in this building. It’s about everyone in The Hive. All the women in the stables, the babies being traded to the Colonies.”

  “Crenshaw’s daughter,” I mumble.

  “Yeah. With Marlow and the Colonies gone, things could be different.”

  “They could get worse.”

  “Or they could get better. We’ll never know until we try. Which is why you need to go. Now.”

  He’s right, but he’s also wrong. We have to try. We have to get Marlow out of power, but what he’s wrong about is me. I’m not going anywhere. Not without him.

  “All right,” I say quietly, pulling away. “I’ll go.”

  He’s not buying it. I don’t have to look at him to know it; I can feel it in the way he doesn’t answer me—and just as I’m planning on double-crossing him, I get the feeling he’s going to double-cross me. It’s all for the greater good and because everybody cares about everybody, but in the end isn’t it all just lying? I don’t care what color you paint it, it’s still ugly.

  I hear footsteps down the hall. People are filing into the doorway, nervous eyes scanning the room like they suspect they’re being led to the slaughter. Like they’re looking for more blood and bodies. More hungry cannibals licking their lips and gnashing their teeth.

  Trent leads the way, jumping smoothly down into the drain. Ryan and the guards from outside start to lead people toward the hole, the first group being the Team Leaders that were captured and held inside the building, used to keep up communication with the other Colonies. It was Trent’s idea to bring them out. He said we might need them again when we made our move against the stadiums. They could help us walk right through the front door.

  I watch as they go one by one down into the darkness, a few familiar faces (Melissa included) passing me by slowly, and I start to wonder how long this is going to take. There are a lot of people here, and even if all of them aren’t going, enough are. And they’re making a lot of noise.

  I bolt from the room. I don’t bother using stealth or finesse; it doesn’t matter. Ryan has his hands halfway to the center of the world helping to lower people down. He doesn’t even see me leave.

  When I’m halfway to the roof, I hear the first blast. It’s far off, but not far enough. I’d say it came from somewhere within a five-block radius and it’s not alone. It’s followed quickly by another. Then another.

  I weave through the now panicking crowd up the stairs, breaking into a run wherever I can find the space. Once I reach the fire stairs heading toward the roof, I’m completely alone. Right until I find him.

  He’s exactly where I expected him to be: right where he was last night as dawn was breaking and he was worrying about losing his castle. Beyond him on the horizon I can see plumes of smoke rolling into the sky. It’s something I usually only see on this scale during market days when all the gangs meet, eat, drink, barter, and make me ache with loneliness.

  “What was it?” I ask Vin.

  “The barricades keeping the Risen up against the outer gate. He’s blowing them. In the next twenty minutes the outside will be swarming with more zombies than it’s seen in years.”

  “And Marlow will be inside.”

  “That’s the plan.” He glances over his shoulder at me. “Isn’t it also the plan that you leave with everyone else?”

  “That’s Ryan’s plan, not mine.”

  “He wants to keep you safe.”

  “And you’re using that to your advantage.”

  He looks away again. “I use everything to my advantage.”

  “And everyone?” I ask hotly.

  He ignores me.

  “I’m not going.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’ll kill Marlow whether you’re here or not.”

  “Not if I kill Marlow first.”

  Vin shoots me a look so sharp it hurts. I feel it sting in my skin as my heart rate spikes painfully. “You will not,” he snarls.

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You don’t get to tell me what to do any more than I can tell you what to do.”

  “Listen to me, Joss,” he says harshly, taking my arm in his iron grip. “You will stay as far away from Marlow as possible, do you understand? If you go near him, you’ll ruin everything. You’ll not only get me killed, but your boy as well. Do you understand me?”

  “No,” I growl, trying in vain to pull away. “I don’t understand your plans at all, which is why I don’t trust them and it’s why I won’t listen to you. I think you’re using Ryan. I think you’re going to let him do your dirty work for you and then you’ll betray him. You’ll get him killed.”

  He lets go of my arm, nearly shoving me away as he does it. “You don’t know that.”

  “I do, because I know what you’re capable of.”

  “No one knows what I’m capable of. Least of all me.”

  “But you’re not denying it, which is the scary thing. You’re not even trying to lie to me.”

  “Would it make you feel better if I did?”

  “I will kill you,” I warn him, my voice laced with venom. “If Ryan dies in there, I will kill you myself. I will do it slowly with a smile on my face and I will dance in your blood as you die.”

  Vin smiles slowly. “I think you mean that, Kitten.”

  “I will live it if you make me. It’s up to you.”

  His smile fades as another explosion erupts in the streets.

  Captain Hook approaches.

  “I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen today,” he tells me seriously. “But I swear to you, if I can help it, I won’t give you a reason to kill me.”

  I sigh, offering him my hand. “That’s crap, but I’ll take it. Only because I honestly believe that’s the best I can expect from you.”

  He takes my hand in his, but instead of shaking it he squeezes it once firmly. Affectionately. “It’s more than I’ve ever given anyone.”

  ***

  Vin called it: just over twenty minutes later and The Hive is outside the gates. They’re smart and at least a little patient because they don’t break the gates entirely, even though they’ve shown that they could have blown the old empty shipping containers to pieces the same way they did to the outer barriers. But they don’t want this place swarming with zombies—not when they plan to take ownership of it.

  Vin takes his six remaining Guard members with him to the gate. Ryan and I, one of us extremely sour-faced and annoyed at the other for not leaving when they were told to, stay inside and watch the arrival from the massive windows of the main sleeping area. Vin thought it was better Marlow didn’t see us right away, just in case he’s angry with us—though I think if anyone should be angry, it should be us. And I am. I’ve clenched my hands so tightly my fingernails are leaving red crescents in my palms. If I press much harder I’ll draw blood.

  “You should have gone.”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t start.”

  “You’ll never be safe if he’s alive,” Ryan continues, his voice tight. “You or any other woman in the wild. You can’t tell me with what we know about him and his deal with the Colonies that you don’t think he deserves to die.”

  “Who are you trying to convince, Ryan? Me or yourself?”

  He doesn’t answer and when
I look over at him he refuses to meet my eyes.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I tell him softly. “You’ll hate yourself if you do.”

  “If I don’t do it, who will?”

  I look back to the gate as it swings open with a long, grating shriek. Men step through the container, moving into the open space inside the gates like they already own the place. Like it was theirs before it was even built. Like the world belongs to them, along with everything and anyone in it.

  “I’m sure if you asked nicely you’d find a few takers,” I mutter.

  “Vincent!” a familiar voice cries, carrying across the gardens to the building.

  When Marlow steps into the early morning light with his arms spread wide, I want to sprint to him. I want to leap into his arms and drive my knife so deep into his back it passes through his body and pierces me on the other side. I will gladly bleed with him if it means I can watch the light drain from his eyes up close and extremely personal. I will suck his last breath from his lungs and hold it in my mine until his life is burned out in the angry ash of my heart.

  I don’t like murder, I’m not a killer at heart, but this man is a now a threat to the only thing in the world I can even vaguely call mine, and if killing him with my bare hands keeps that safe, I’ll gladly live with his ghost for the rest of my life.

  Vin approaches Marlow without hesitation. They hug each other warmly, and that right there speaks volumes. There are no searches, no patting down to look for weapons. There’s so much trust here, so much tried-and-true history that they don’t consider each other the least bit of a threat. Not an immediate one anyway. It makes me more and more convinced that Vin plans to use Ryan. Even if he’s given an “opening,” I wonder if Ryan will be allowed to kill Marlow.

  “Here they come,” Ryan mumbles.

  Marlow is walking with Vin across the gardens, happily surveying the area with a grin on his face. He points to plants as they pass them, gestures to the roof, asking Vin questions as they go. Vin looks like he’s answering, a similar grin on his face, but as they get closer I can see a tightness around his eyes. Maybe it’s the glare from the sun, but more than likely it’s Marlow. It’s too many cooks in the kitchen. His kitchen.

  “It’s impressive,” Marlow says as they step inside, the doors being yanked open by a mix of Hive and Guard.

  All six of Vin’s men are with him, the only followers he has left in the building, while Marlow has brought eight of his army. The rest are outside in the gardens milling around, checking out the grounds. I can see a few wandering toward the water, some others looking at the animals. Slowly but surely they’re circling the building. It’s a not-so-subtle message to Vin that Daddy is here and he’d better not forget it.

  “They did a great job setting it up, but that’s what they do,” Vin agrees.

  “And where are they now? How many workers are there?”

  “They’re locked safely away,” Vin lies. “I didn’t want itchy trigger fingers to kick off a war. They’re not a strong group, not when it comes to fighting.”

  “More farmers and bakers, eh? That was to be expected. We’ll split them down the middle. Send half to The Hive, leave half here. We could use skilled farmers at home. Could cut our dependence on other resources.”

  I bristle at the vague reference to his deal with the Colonies.

  “So what else is here? Are there many women? Have you started training?”

  Vin shrugs carelessly. “Haven’t had the time. We only just took control of the building.”

  “Good, good. We’ll want to get on that quickly. A lot of our inventory is aging, looking tired. You could start fresh here. Get all new girls. Speaking of…” Marlow turns to face me, a wicked smile on his ugly face. “Hello, my dear.”

  “Fuck you,” I tell him coolly.

  Marlow throws his head back, laughing full from the gut. My knife hand itches.

  “Oh, I do like you,” he finally says, crossing the room slowly. Ryan moves closer as well. “I’m so glad you’re still alive. I was worried about you.”

  “You sent me to die.”

  “I sent you on an errand. If you had died on that errand you would have showed me you’re weak, but here you stand—alive and well and beautiful as ever. Vincent, what are your plans for this one?”

  I glare at Vin over Marlow’s shoulder, just waiting for one of them to give me a reason.

  “I hadn’t decided yet,” he says simply.

  Marlow nods thoughtfully, turning to head back toward Vin. “I think we’ll keep her as a bargaining chip. She still a Benjy?”

  “Far as I know.”

  “Good. If we’re going to keep this place we’ll either have to fight for it or pay for it. I’d rather not lose any men right now, not with things as tense as they are, and Westbrook has expensive tastes. She could be just what we need.”

  And there’s my reason.

  I take several quick steps toward Marlow’s turned back, my lips curling up over my teeth in disgust. I’m almost to him, Vin shooting me a horrified look over his shoulder. I’m reaching out to take hold of him with one hand and unsheathe my knife with another. I’m going to kill him. I’m going to end this for everyone.

  I’m swung off the ground and spun around in a circle. Shouting in anger, I thrash and claw at the arm around me. I know it’s Ryan but my frustration is so deep I dig into his skin, drawing blood and snarling like an animal. The room spins in front of my eyes in a blur, and just before my feet are put back on solid ground I catch a familiar face in Marlow’s guard.

  Andy.

  “Slow down,” Ryan whispers brusquely in my ear, his arm still around my waist as he holds my back against his front. “Not yet.”

  “Tie her up,” Marlow commands, sounding oddly disinterested. “Be careful not to mark her skin, but keep her contained. I’ll take her with me when I leave. Now, Vincent, show me the rest of the building. I want to see what I’m buying.”

  Marlow and Vin leave without a look back, followed by four of each of their guards. Ryan and I are left alone with the remaining crew: two of Vin’s men, four of Marlow’s. I’m both relieved and annoyed when Andy steps toward me with a length of rope.

  “Put her down by the door,” Andy tells Ryan sternly.

  He does as he’s told, leading me to a vacant chair by the door and gently pushing me down until I’m glaring up at Andy.

  “Tie it loosely,” Ryan warns under his breath.

  Andy shifts his eyes to the other men in the room. They’re all watching us.

  “So I don’t mark her skin. Yeah, I heard him.”

  “So I can get loose and snap your neck,” I tell him, leaning forward to get in his face as he leans down to tie my ankles. “I’ve missed you, Andy. Did you miss me?”

  “Shut your stupid mouth,” he whispers bitterly. “If they hear you—”

  “They’ll know all about you. That’s the point.”

  He tugs harshly on the rope wrapping around my ankles. I fight the urge to wince as the rough fibers scrape across my skin.

  “Go ahead, tell them. They’ll kill me right here and you’ll be next.”

  “You heard Marlow. I’m expensive. You guys aren’t allowed to touch me.”

  “Not you. Him.”

  I sit back hard in the chair, my eyes going to Ryan. He’s watching Andy’s hands as they secure knots, each movement making me more and more Marlow’s prisoner.

  Andy cuts the rope with a small knife before sitting up on his knees to tie my wrists.

  “If they hurt Ryan—” I begin, my teeth clenched tight.

  Andy looks at me sharply. “They won’t. Not if you keep it together. You’re too emotional. Sit back, shut up, and let me do my job.”

  I lean my head back until it rests against the chair, my eyes open and vacant.

  Emotional.

  Not as bad a word as hope, but definitely not good. It’s deadly. More deadly than Risen, zombie, Colonist, or gang. I’ve run from it for yea
rs—hidden in the dark, scurrying like an animal—and now here it is, the thing that will get me killed: I’ve gotten emotional and it’s made me stupid.

  “Fine,” I spit out. “I’ll be quiet.”

  “Good. Keep your mouth shut and your ears open. Be patient. Be smart. Wait for the right moment.”

  I lower my eyes to his face, ready to ask him what he’s talking about, when I feel the cold steel of a blade sliding against my wrist. He’s finished tying my hands down, but he’s done it loosely. There’s just enough play for me to lift them slightly. Just enough room between my skin and the wood for the thin blade of his knife to hide.

  Chapter Twelve

  Ryan goes to stand with the other men in the room, siding with the two guys from Vin’s Guard. I think he’s a little relieved. I’m still here, where he doesn’t want me to be, but I’m contained. Me being tied to a chair doesn’t exactly bother him because he has no intention of Marlow leaving with me. He has no intention of Marlow leaving at all.

  That worries me.

  In my gut I know Ryan shouldn’t do this. For one, Vin wants it. He pushed him toward it, practically putting the idea in his head. Vin’s joy is a huge red flag for me. Secondly, it’s an emotional decision, something I can say from experience is a bad idea. I’m regretting a lot right now as my butt goes numb in this uncomfortable chair and my fingers cramp from slowly working Andy’s knife back and forth over the ropes holding me down. I don’t know if he meant for me to cut myself loose with it or hold onto it to defend myself when things get ugly, but I’m not interested in being caged so I’m putting it to use immediately. SOB could have sharpened it for me, though.

  The third most obvious reason to me why Ryan shouldn’t kill Marlow is that Ryan isn’t a killer. It’s not in him. Zombies are one thing; a man is another. Ryan’s a diplomat, not a mercenary. He’s done it before and I know it’s still with him. I don’t want more blood on his hands that he’ll never be able to wash off.

  “That’s it.”

  Vin’s voice drifts down from the rafters where he and Marlow are walking around the upper level. They make their way slowly down the large open staircase toward the main floor where we all wait patiently. Or anxiously. Or murderously.