by J. L. Weil
The arrow sunk straight into the guard’s heart.
Pushing up on my hands, the guard’s mouth dropped open in a silent cry of surprise. He clutched the air, blood oozing on his hands and dribbling down his arm. Like someone had yelled timber, he planked to the ground.
The guard was dead.
Dash had singlehandedly dispatched three Night’s Guards. I didn’t know whether I should be impressed or terrified. There was a quiet calm on his handsome face. Killing didn’t faze him.
The same couldn’t be said about me.
There was a good chance I was going to hurl.
“So the rumors about you are true?” Vee said, eyeing Dash. “This is one of those times I’m glad.”
“What rumors?” I asked, testing my legs. I was still a little shaken. Seeing Dash kill someone was not as cool as it looked in the movies.
Vee stepped over the dead guard. “He hasn’t told you what his gift is?”
I looked to Dash.
“We don’t have time for this,” he grumbled. “We need to go. Right. Now.”
Part of me wanted to dig my feet in and demand he tell me, but we really did need to leave the camp. Sighing, I told myself that Dash and I were going to have this conversation once we got out of here.
We reached the tunnel, and although I couldn’t be happier to leave Eastroth behind, I got a little choked up about saying good-bye to the only person I felt a kinship with.
Vee gave me a quick hug. “We’ll see each other again. I’m sure of it.”
“Only under better circumstances I hope,” I said, returning her embrace.
Dash cleared his throat, my cue to get my butt moving.
“Stay safe,” she whispered.
“You, too,” I replied over my shoulder, following Dash toward our freedom.
The tunnel was dark and winding. More than a dozen times I managed to scrape myself on the jagged walls. As we squeezed past a narrow stretch, I cursed my shitty luck. Since the moment I’d woken up, it felt as if all I’d been doing was running from something or someone. When did I get the chance to catch my breath?
Not today.
Our pace was grueling, and the murmurings of the Night’s Guard carried through the passageways, letting us know they hadn’t given up. Dash must have an internal GPS. He seemed to know what turns to take. I wanted to chalk it up to blind luck, but there was something more to Dash Darhk than I knew. Vee had pretty much solidified my suspicion, and if we were going to continue to travel together, I think I deserved the truth of who he really was.
A ripple of joy danced inside me at the first sight of light. Only a few more steps and we’d be out in the open.
Dash slowed, allowing me a moment to catch my breath. I collapsed against a tree, my muscles relaxing and my heart rate slowly returning to normal from the frantic getaway. Breaths shallow, I closed my eyes, letting my lungs enjoy the air and my peace drift through my muscles. A hundred years asleep had really done a number to my body, or I wasn’t as fit as I thought I’d been.
“Do you think we lost them?” I panted.
Dash’s sharp eyes continued to stare into the opening of the dark tunnel. “Not for long. They won’t ever stop hunting us. You exposed yourself, allowing them to see you’re gifted. It won’t take them long to realize you haven’t been charted.”
The Institute kept a running tab of all the people who woke up and those who were classified as gifted. “I hope I never see another tunnel again.”
He swiped the back of his arm over his sweaty forehead. “Yeah, I’ve had enough of this desert heat to last me a lifetime.”
The back of my shirt was dripping with gross, smelly perspiration. So attractive. I had a theme going—unkempt and wild. If my parents saw me now, they probably wouldn’t recognize their daughter. “Tell me about it. I didn’t think it was possible to sweat so much.” And the sun wasn’t even fully up.
“We need to keep moving.”
I nodded, knowing he was right, but that didn’t mean every bone in my body didn’t protest the slightest movement. Hopefully, the Night’s Guard got lost in the network of tunnels.
Staying off the path, we walked in silence, until I could no longer take it—about five minutes. “What did Vee mean when she said the rumors about you are true?” I thought back to what happened. It was obvious his gift had something to do with killing. I’d heard of expert marksmanship, but this went beyond that. He hadn’t even looked at the guy, and yet the arrow sunk dead center in his chest. Dumb luck? I don’t think so. Not in this world.
With a hard set to his jaw, he said, “I never miss, Freckles. It’s my curse. There isn’t a target, moving or standing still, that I can’t hit. Eyes closed, upside down, backwards, it doesn’t matter how I make the shot. It goes exactly where I want it.”
I stared at him. He wasn’t kidding. And I saw a side of Dash I hadn’t let myself see, the side he kept telling me was there: his dark side. Dash was a mob boss’s wet dream with the ability to never miss his intended target. No wonder the Institute was so intent on capturing him.
“Holy shit balls,” I whispered. “You’re like Robin Hood,” I commented.
He snorted. “I’m not taking from the rich to give to the poor. I just killed that guard without hesitating. And I’d do it again if it meant saving my life.”
It hadn’t been his life he saved; it had been mine. “But if you hadn’t, he would have tried to kill you or me or Vee.”
“You can’t justify everyone I’ve ever killed.”
“Have there been many? Is that why the Institute has put a warrant on your head?”
He made a guttural sound in his throat. “Hardly. The Institute taught me to kill. The warrant is because I refuse to do their bidding. They didn’t take well to my rejection, and I suddenly was no longer their star pupil.”
I scuffed my foot on the sand. “That’s … horrible.”
Dash stopped at a funny-shaped tree, similar to a cactus, and I snuffled a giggle. It was childish, but after the stress we’d just encountered the last day, it felt good to laugh at something as stupid as a plant that favored a part of the male anatomy.
He plucked a round fruit the size of a coconut and flashed me his dimples. Cracking the sphere open on his knee, he handed me half. “Drink this. It will keep you from getting dehydrated.”
I sniffed and wrinkled my nose. It smelled like honey and melons. I took a generous gulp, wiping a dribble off the side of my mouth. It was sweet, but tolerable. “You’re nothing like I first thought,” I informed him, handing him back the shell.
“And what, Freckles, was your first impression of me?”
An almost shy smile curved my lips. “You’re going to laugh.”
He tossed aside the empty pod. “Probably.”
I was going to regret this. “I thought you looked like a prince.” I crumpled my nose as soon as the admission left my mouth.
Dash busted out laughing.
I whacked him on the arm. “Hey.”
“That is classic. And do you still think I’m a prince?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
He took a step forward, eyes flashing like a silver bullet. “How does it feel, knowing you’ve kissed a killer?” The texture in his voice had gone low and ruthless.
Was that how he saw himself? A killer? I couldn’t understand that. From what I could tell, the walls he built around himself were sky high, not allowing real friendship or love. He thought of himself as a dirty, no good killer. Unworthy.
Bullshit.
I’d assumed he was one of those guys afraid of commitment, didn’t want to be tied down, hell, even that he was afraid to be close to someone, but to think he wasn’t good enough for me, that was poppycock. I didn’t care if he had killed a hundred people. He didn’t do it for shits and giggles or sport, but for survival. The Institute was hunting him. It was instinctual to protect yourself. And I knew for a fact, he didn’t always kill. How many of the Night’s Guards
had Dash only wounded since the night he found me? Way more than he’d killed.
That didn’t make him a ruthless murderer in my book.
The Institute had done a number on him, and I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted to be the one to crack those walls. There was a lot I didn’t know about Dash, but what I did know was that he was no murderer.
I tipped my chin, meeting his warning glare, and leaned toward him so our bodies brushed. “I’m not afraid of you. Nothing you could do or say is going to make me think you’re the bad guy.”
His eyes searched mine, and as I held his gaze, the iciness began to thaw. He didn’t really want me to hate him. “Being near me is going to get you hurt. Just look around.”
My eyes dropped to his lips. “You would never let anything happen to me,” I whispered.
The pad of his thumb traced a line along my bottom lip. “What is it about you?”
“Maybe I see you for who you are.”
A slow grin curved his lips. “Nah, that’s not it.”
I nudged the tip of my nose against his. “Then it has got to be my sparkling personality.”
He framed the side of my face with his hand. “That’s it.”
Warmth swept across my cheeks, his breath tickling the spot just below my ear.
His eyes deepened to a smoky gray. “You have the softest pair of lips, and I can’t get the taste of you out of my head.”
He amazed me. Who would have thought that the big and tough tracker had a soft and chewy center? As I stared at him, caught in the spell his words brewed, I wanted to tell him not to play games with my heart … and to stop being so damn tempting and charming. I wanted him to kiss me.
My heart stuttered blindly as I kept my eyes centered on his, lifting up on my toes. Our lips were now aligned, and all I had to do was lean in a mere inch. There was a fire of anticipation in my blood, a curiosity to see if the kiss would be as earth-shattering as I remembered. He wasn’t the only one who couldn’t stop thinking about it. His chest rose under my hand as I moved in to close the distance between our mouths.
His head snapped up, leaving me hanging. “Shh.”
My eyes narrowed. “Did you just—”
He threw a hand over my mouth.
I bit the inside of his palm, not hard, but enough to draw his attention. Inside, I was achy, disappointed, and pissed off.
His brows slammed together, the silver hue of his eyes churning restlessly. “We’re being followed,” he mouthed as his gaze went skyward.
A bit of the sting eked out of my body. Too bad I couldn’t get rid of the molten lava simmering in my veins still. I followed his line of vision. There, just below the clouds, was a black bird circling over our heads. His wings spread wide as he swooped majestically in the air, head held high and proud. There was no mistaking him. “It’s just a bird,” I said, disregarding the blinken.
“That so-called bird has been trailing us since we emerged from the tunnels. A friend of yours?” he proposed, jesting.
I swallowed. “Blink.”
“You named him?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not lame. It’s his name.”
His brows arched. “He told you his name was Blink?”
“Did I stutter?”
“Freckles, are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“I’m not delusional. He’s a blinken,” I said, assuming that would clear things up.
He gave me a confused half-grin. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.”
I put some space between us. “I know it sounds crazy, and it probably is, but that bird flying around up there can talk.”
“If what you say is true, that isn’t a bird. It’s a weapon of the Institute.”
I craned my neck up, fighting the glare from the sun as I let my eyes trail after the bird. “What do you mean, like a drone?”
“Possibly.”
“How can you be sure?”
A dark shadow of suspicion crossed his features. “I’ve seen all kinds of shit in this world but talking animals is not one of them. In the last ten years, since the first group of settlers awoke, there have been many advances within the Institute, privy only to those within the walls of Diamond Towers. If there were a way for the Institute to have eyes on the Heights, this would be the perfect tactic. It reeks of the Institute.”
Dash pulled out his bow and grappled in his pack for an arrow. He was going to shoot Blink from the sky. Considering his skill set, Blink didn’t stand a chance, and I didn’t think it mattered how high he flew.
“No, don’t,” I said, resting a hand on Dash’s forearm, stopping him from killing the potential scout. “We can’t be sure.”
“And if I’m right?” he suggested. “You’re willing to take the chance?”
I wasn’t sure if the chatty bird was a spy or just another victim of the mist, but the idea of him reporting our location to the Institute made me nervous. “I don’t know.”
Blink squawked once and then broke his flight pattern, flying off.
Dash lowered his bow, regret lining his forehead. “If I see him again, I shoot.” It was a promise.
I sighed. If the bird knew what was good for him, he’d stay clear of Dash and his lethal arrows.
Time elapsed as we continued to put as much ground as we could between us and the guards. Now that they knew Dash’s general location, they weren’t about to ease up on their hunt, not when they’d been so close. Since there was still a huge section of the Badlands we hadn’t explored and multiple holding pods, Dash thought it was best if we switched quadrants.
I didn’t really care one way or the other, as long as we continued to search. Each day that went by my hope of finding my family diminished bit by bit. In a place like the Badlands, it was hard to find optimism and keep it. Dash, regardless of his dark past and brooding personality, had a presence about him that made me want to not just live, but thrive. He awakened feelings that reminded me of all the good in life.
There was a gradual change in temperature as we got closer to the edge of the Badlands and near the border of Somber Mountain—the quadrant southwest of Diamond Towers. We came across a bridge, if you could call it that, and my internal daredevil was skeptical of crossing. Half the wooden planks were missing, and the ones left were rickety and decaying. I stood behind Dash, staring at the bridge of doom. “No.”
Dash laid on hand on the rail and shook it. “I don’t really think we have a choice in the matter, Freckles.”
FML.
“I hate this place,” I muttered.
“Ladies first,” Dash said, making a swooping movement with his arm.
“You picked a shitty time to suddenly go gentleman on me.” With more bravado than I felt, I moved in front of Dash. Balancing wasn’t a problem for me, thanks to being a rah-rah cheerleader. It was the sturdiness of the wood I mistrusted. My feet felt like iron as I lifted them to take my first step onto the bridge. I froze. The bridge creaked and groaned under my measly hundred and twenty pound weight. “I have a really bad feeling about this.”
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
The muscles in my legs quivered as I attempted to gain my balance. “I left it back in the twenty-first century.”
With only a single rope on the rail for support, each shaky step caused the bridge to swing. “I hope you can swim,” Dash joked in bad taste.
“Jerk,” I hissed through my teeth. I could swim, but my biggest concern was the hundred-foot-plus drop to the water and what lived in it.
You can do this. Just don’t look down. It’s like walking the beam in gym. No biggie. Except there was no safety net. I made it about a quarter through without looking down, and then of course, I made the stupid mistake. My eyes rejected the warning my brain kept sending it, and the consequence was paralyzing fear, freezing me in my tracks.
Way to go, Charlotte.
Now how are you going to get out of this mess?
Chapter 14
Dash to the rescue—aga
in. It was becoming a bad habit, relying on him to constantly get my sorry butt out of sticky situations. If I wasn’t careful, leaning on him was going to become a crutch.
Directly behind me, he rested a hand on my waist and coaxed me in his calmest voice, a challenge for him, but it worked. I concentrated on the smooth texture of his words, forcing myself to put one foot in front of the other, and crawled across the bridge. I was cautious, testing the sturdiness of each plank. He was patient, and I gave him credit, but my carefulness might have just been my downfall.
We had reached the halfway point, and with each step closer toward the other side, I gained control over my trembling body. Exhaling a breath, I put my foot on the next plank. It made a funny noise, like when my robust Uncle John plops into his recliner—a groan followed by a creak. And then it happened—what I’d been dreading. It was as if I’d psyched myself up for failure.
My foot slipped as the wood began to split. There was no stopping the chain of events. The decomposing plank broke into pieces, leaving me with nothing to stand on. I saw my life flash before my eyes as my arms flailed in the air. This was it. I was going to plummet to my death and look like a chicken with its head cut off while doing so. My scream echoed over the valley.
A strong arm wrapped around my torso, cutting off my shriek of terror and knocking the wind out of me. “I got you,” Dash assured me with a grunt, pulling me against his chest.
My dangling feet stretched to touch a flat surface. I wanted to cry. I wanted to hold onto him forever. I wanted to get the fudge off this bridge.
But one disaster led to another.
“Don’t you dare let me go,” I said, angling my head to the side to peer at Dash.
“I swear, some days with you feels like my own personal trial,” he grumbled. Grabbing my wrist, he spun me around. My breath was coming out in quick pants. He had saved me from a disastrous situation, but did he have to be such a jerkwad about it?
I was about to tell him to take it easy when I heard the voices.
This way!
They’re on the bridge.
We got them now.
“Do you trust me?” Dash murmured.