by J. L. Weil
“At least you have your memories,” he mumbled, voice growing heavy with exhaustion.
“You don’t remember anything?” I asked, prodding.
“Not the important stuff, like details. I remember faces: my mom and my little brother, even the asshole father who walked out us when I was ten. Tell me, how I can recall his face, a man I haven’t seen since the day he left, but I can’t drum up my own name?” Anger. It was there, among other emotions buried deep, but anger was at the top of the heap.
“A name isn’t everything,” I replied softly.
“It sure would be damn helpful when I’m scanning the list of names, hoping one of them will click. Both my mom and little brother could be out there and I wouldn’t know, not without seeing their faces.”
So that’s who he was looking for—just like me.
I flipped my head to the side, toward him, to say something else, but similar to the first night, Dash was able to fall asleep within moments, his chest rising and falling in even movements. I, on the other hand, lay fully awake, staring at him. It was becoming a problem.
Sighing, I dragged my eyes from his flawless face, refusing to spend my downtime gawking at him constantly. I gazed at the intricate canopy of branches.
A short while later, the sound of wings flapping disturbed the silence, and a huge black bird soared down from the sky, landing on a branch just above my head. It eyed me with cautious golden eyes, turning his head from side to side thoughtfully, very much like a raven, but there was something ethereal about his wings. I didn’t claim to be a bird expert, but I’d seen this guy earlier today before the thing attacked me.
Afraid to scare him off, I stayed still, only admiring. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered. “Unlike most of the creatures I’ve encountered.”
He lifted his head proudly, and then he spoke. “I am quite dashing,” he said in a distinguished voice.
My gaze darted back and forth, thinking this had to be a trick. “D-did you just talk?” I stammered.
“Unless the dark hunter is playing games with you.”
“You mean Dash?” I asked softly.
“I refuse to utter the barbarian’s name,” he squawked, sounding outraged.
“But you’re a bird,” I blurted dumbly. In my defense, animals didn’t talk, unless you were Snow White.
“I’m more than just a bird, human; I’m a blinken, to be precise.”
“How is this possible?” I mumbled, scratching my head and sitting up.
The blinken hopped down a few branches so we were nose to beak. “Have you ever seen a parrot before? If memory serves, those colorful feathered friends spoke to humans.”
I gaped at him. “I guess.” He had a point. I forced myself to take a breath and calm down. Dash was still dozing quietly beside me.
The bird opened and closed his claws on the branch. “Well, there you go. Not so hard to believe.”
Charlotte, stranger things have happened than holding a conversation with a bird. Occasionally, I talked in my head, usually when I was nervous or freaked out. I was both now. “Do you have a name?”
The bird stretched its wings before settling the black feathers against his body. “Blink.”
“Creative,” I muttered. The word spilled from my mouth before I thought about the bird, Blink, pecking my eyeballs out. I glanced up, attempting to judge if I had offended him. Did birds understand sarcasm?
“You’re the girl the woods are buzzing about.”
“Uh, I am?”
He twitched his tail feather. “Are you the one who plucked lightning from the sky?” he asked in a patronizing tone.
Blink was a bird with a dose of attitude. I wasn’t sure I should be telling this creature anything. If word of what I could do got to the Institute, I wasn’t naïve enough to think they’d leave me alone. Already I’d broken protocol. The Institute was supposed to screen each person after waking from the slumber. I had sort of skipped that process, and many others, I’m sure. “I don’t see why that’s important.”
“I’ve never seen eyes like yours. You can hide from the humans, girl, but you can’t hide from the land.”
What did that mean? “My name’s Charlotte.”
“Oooh, the princess remembers her name. You are much smarter than most humans already.”
“What do you want?”
He fixed me with an unblinking stare, making the gold of his eyes shine. “I was sent to see what you were about.”
“Sent by who?” I contemplated giving Dash one good kick. Was this bird harmful? Was he like all the other atrocious creatures occupying the lands?
“There is no need to wake the dark hunter. I got what I came for.”
“And what was that?” I hissed, confused. I had admitted to nothing, but like everything here, the laws of nature no longer applied.
Dash rolled in his sleep, shifting so he faced me.
“Until next time, Charlotte. And do try to stay alive. I might like you yet.” Regal wings spread wide; he took flight, and with a ripple of onyx, he vanished.
Something about his departure caused my skin to prickle.
I slept very little. There were a number of things to blame: the time of day, the unexpected visit from Blink, the fear to close my eyes and not wake up for another hundred years. Sleep was what my body needed, but without the aid of drugs or alcohol, my mind refused to shut down.
Eventually, it was going to catch up with me.
I must’ve dozed for an hour or so. When I opened my eyes, night had drifted in, dotted with millions and millions of stars sprinkling the sky. It was magnificent. Light spilled out of the stars like liquid silver, the wind whistling in an inviting song. I couldn’t remember the last time I took a moment to appreciate the beauty nature offered. In my life before, I’d always been too busy with friends, school, shopping, boy gazing, cheerleading, and life in general, but never did I stop and appreciate what was right in front of me.
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” a smooth and mellow voice whispered.
I tilted my head to the side, finding Dash looking at me. My skin flushed, and it wasn’t from the heat. The look he gave was downright menacing and rattled my composure. He made me feel as if he wasn’t talking about the sky, and when he flashed me those dimples, my brain went to mush.
Damn him.
My throat went dry. I don’t know how long I lay gaping at him, but it had definitely been an awkward amount of time. The air thickened between us, sparking with a tension I didn’t want to acknowledge. You are not going to fall for him, Charlotte. You’re too smart to be one of those girls who fall prey to the charm of Dash Darhk.
“You’re utterly distracting. I can’t afford to be sidetracked,” he said, sitting up and running a hand through his tousled hair.
I was distracting? Me! Was he kidding? I spent half the time thinking there was a chemical imbalance in my body. Every time he was near, my insides went haywire. The distraction was all him, and his swoon-worthy dimples.
If he would stop giving me those come-get-me glances, I wouldn’t be left weak in the knees half the time. I’d never met anyone who gave more mixed signals than Dash did. He liked me. He hated me. He thought I was a nuisance. He thought I was distracting. Which was it?
He wrapped a finger around the end of my hair, the back of his hand brushing against my neck. “We should go,” he said, tugging on the strand before pushing to his feet and making the trek down the tree trunk.
Whatever air was left in my lungs expelled in an unsteady rush. I shook my head and gathered my bag, tossing it over my shoulder. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could lie to myself and resist Dash’s wily charms.
The holding house was a stone structure able to withstand the harsh elements. Even though I’d woken up in a similar facility just days ago, things had been so hectic, I hadn’t seen what the building looked like. There was nothing fancy or special about the place sheltering the last of the human race. If you really thought about it, it
was kind of messed up. These holding houses were supposed to protect the extinction of mankind. Maybe they were made up of some kind of advanced material to withstand the mist, but to the eye, it looked like nothing more than a concrete shelter.
We had waited in the bushes for the Night’s Guard to finish their rounds at this specific location. Propped against the outside wall, I scratched at my arm. The last thing I needed was to contract poison ivy here. I waited as Dash worked his magic on the lock. They were secured buildings, but not tight enough to keep Dash Darhk out. Within a minute, the lock clicked, followed by a series of beeps and green flashing lights.
“Voilà,” he said, bumping the door with his hip and sweeping his arm out, giving me the okay to enter.
“If you’re trying to impress me, it’s going to take more than an amateur trick.”
He smirked. “I knew you were a tough cookie. Good thing we have plenty of time. I’m bound to amaze you at some point.”
I stepped inside, my boots hitting the concrete. Clap. Clap. Clap. The sound bounced off the corridor walls, echoing in a lonely chorus. The air had a stale smell—not death, but desolate. The bodies here had no idea what they were in store for.
It was all still fresh for me. The changes. The impossibilities. The hopelessness.
“You don’t have to do this,” Dash said. He had come to stand beside me while I had gone paralyzed in a flashback.
I blinked. “Yes, I do. There’s no going back.”
He nodded. “Okay. The guards post a list at each station of those who have already been identified and regained consciousness. It isn’t always an accurate list because not everyone will regain his or her memories. We’ll check the list, and then quickly make our rounds. We have approximately thirty minutes before the goons show back up.”
“What are we waiting for?”
His lips curled. “After you, Freckles.”
To the right of the door was a sheet stuck on the wall. I trailed a finger down the list of names, scanning for Winston, and felt the first tinge of discouragement. Baron, Peterson, Smith, and blah, blah, blah, but there was no one with my last name on the list.
“On to phase two,” Dash mumbled, his boots clanking on the floor.
Systematically, Dash strutted down the halls, glancing at each of the nameless faces. “How many holding houses have you been to?” I asked, passing a woman with cinnamon hair like my mom’s. My heart pounded as I moved to get a closer look, and just as quickly, it plummeted to my feet. She wasn’t my mom.
“It sucks every time,” Dash said, seeing my crestfallen expression. There was an edge of stiffness to his tone.
I quickly masked my emotions. It was easy to understand how, over time, Dash’s heart had hardened to the constant disappointment; the alternative was heartbreak, over and over again. Even the softest of souls would eventually toughen. It was almost cruel.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to chase the chill moving in my veins. Didn’t help that this place was a meat locker. “I can handle it,” I assured him, stiffening my trembling lip. I refused to give Dash the satisfaction of thinking he was right about me.
I was not a damsel in distress. He would not regret bringing me along, I vowed to myself.
“You might surprise us both,” he replied, offering a coy smile as he moved on past me.
“You know, you don’t have to be a jerk all the time.”
He snorted. “This is me being nice.”
I’d been prepared for disappointment, expected it even, but the rock in my gut was solid and burdensome. My family wasn’t here, and seeing all those drugged people left an acidic taste in my mouth. “Is there no way to help them? Force them to wake up?”
“Not unless the Institute is keeping it a secret. Nothing we’ve done has worked, and if you try to move the bodies before they wake up, a silent alarm goes off, alerting the Night’s Guard.”
There goes that theory.
We were in and out in less than twenty minutes and back on the road with me dragging my heavy heart behind me. I didn’t think I could feel any lonelier than I did at that moment. I kept telling myself things had to get better, get easier, but the problem was, no matter how many times I recited it, I didn’t believe it.
The next two days passed in a blur.
And in those days, we hit three more holding houses, each leaving me emptier inside. Dash and I barely said five sentences to each other. I wasn’t in the mood to listen to him telling me he had warned me, or how I should have stayed in Hurst to save myself the emotional pain. So I kept my trap shut. He didn’t say anything either, but he didn’t have to. It was written in every line in his face each time he looked at me.
Which, surprisingly, was often.
Or maybe I only noticed because I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.
The longer I traveled, I realized it was like Jumanji out here, a crossbreed of every animal I’d ever seen at the zoo—the good, the bad, and the vicious.
Walking side by side, I remembered Blink, the talking bird. “Is it common for animals to talk?” I asked, breaking our silent streak.
“Only in fairytales,” he responded.
I couldn’t decide if he was being a smartass or truthful. “So, that’s a no.”
He glanced oddly at me. “Are you saying you can talk to animals?”
“Uh, no.” At least I didn’t think so. I was under the impression that it was a blinken thing, not a Charlotte thing. Maybe Dash had never encountered a blinken. I was just about to elaborate when a rustling of leaves sounded behind us. My steps faltered. “Did you hear that?” At first I thought I was just freaking myself out, but then Dash’s body stiffened.
He glanced over his shoulder at me, lashes hiding his eyes. Trouble was coming. Suddenly, there were footsteps racing over the ground. It sounded like a stampede. A curse erupted beside me. “We got company.”
“Night’s Guard?” I guessed.
“A wild boarus.”
Right. One of those.
Busting through the trees like a cracked-out linebacker, foaming at the mouth, was an oversized boar. It screeched like a gremlin; damn thing even kind of looked like one. The boarus’ skin was tough and green, and its eyes burned red with black slits like a python.
I backed up, automatically moving closer to Dash. “You got a plan?”
“Yeah, dinner. This might be a good time to test your hunting skills.”
I could tell by the stiff set of his shoulders, he wasn’t kidding. His hand went behind his back, pulling out a bow and a single arrow. He better be a damn good shot. The tusks on that thing meant business.
The boar ground his feet into the sand and let out one long mad squeal as it charged straight for us. My brain stopped working, and instinct kicked in. I whipped out the blade strapped to my thigh, clutching it tightly in my hand. Most people’s gut reaction might be to run when being rushed by a wild beast; mine was to defend myself. I needed to learn how to survive here on my own.
Planting my feet, I waited for the boarus to come to me. I sensed Dash at my back, poised to strike if I failed. The heat from the sun glared down on me, making my eyesight just a tad hazy. The next minute happened in a blur. I remembered the boarus’ head coming up—pointy husks jutted from its jaw—and a puff of mist blasted the air at my face. I had raised my dagger, going for the exposed belly as it was up on two legs. But somehow I ended up flat on my back staring up at the clouds.
I blinked.
A second later, Dash’s face came into focus, a shit-eating grin on his lips. “Don’t say it,” I hissed through my teeth as a dull ache fired along my spine. The air had been knocked from my lungs and came back in slow bursts.
“Did I fail to mention it spits a venom that knocks out its prey?”
My narrow gaze swung to his face. “As soon as I catch my breath, I’m going to kick you in the balls.”
That got me a husky chuckle and a hand up. “I swear, I’ve never had so much shit happen the entire year
I’ve been awake than I have had in the five days in your company. Christ. You’re going to get us both killed.”
“How is this my fault?” I spat. I’d actually tried to help. It would have been nice to know the damn thing spit some kind of sleeping venom. And what kind of teacher did that make him?
The pad of his thumb danced along my hand. “Beats me. It just is. Maybe it’s your perfume.”
The boar lay at my feet, belly up with an arrow sticking out. “I’m not wearing any perfume. And besides, I smell like sweat and musk,” I grumbled.
“At least we have dinner.” He walked to the boar, pulled out his arrow, and wiped the blood off the tip on his pants.
Gross.
He sheathed the arrow in his pack. “What do you know about skinning an animal, Freckles?”
My face turned green. I was going to hurl. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”
Dash grabbed the hind legs of our dinner and heaved it onto his shoulders. The muscles on his arms tightened, and I momentarily forgot about the boarus, being bested by the beast, and Dash wanting to flay him up. Dash had pretty impressive arms; it was no wonder why my brain went loopy. Unfortunately, by the time we heard the rustling of feet moving around us, we were surrounded. My mind jumped to all sorts of terrifying conclusions. Another boarus. The Night’s Guard. A vampire. Hell, at this point, anything was possible.
Dash froze, dropping the boarus back to the ground. “Nomads,” he hissed.
A group of drifters circled us from all sides. “So this isn’t the welcome party?” I muttered.
“Hardly,” he griped, carefully moving closer to me. “They must have been hunting the boarus.”
And they found us instead.
I opened my mouth to ask Dash how he was going to get us out of this mess, when something cool pressed against my neck and the sweat on my brow turned cold.
This couldn’t be good.
Chapter 10
“Don’t move, Grà,” warned a not so friendly voice.
It only took a few seconds for me to understand I had a knife held to my throat. Any sudden movements would draw blood. My blood.