The Cities

by K. A Knight

  “Found this, thought it might suit ya, Ma Queen.” He grins, wiggling his massive eyebrows at me as he tugs on the tarp to reveal the bike underneath.

  My mouth drops open. Now I know what people mean when they say love at first sight. She is a beauty—smooth, sleek, a crotch rocket for sure. It has low, silver handlebars with spikes facing outwards, looking sharp enough to skewer someone if they got too close. The detail on the bodywork is what has me drooling though. A skull with a crown on it is painted on the bottom side, surrounded by flames that trail off around the body. She’s lean, mean, fast, and lethal.

  “What’s that?” I tilt my head, pointing at the black straps across the handle.

  “For ya to strap in ya sword or gun or even a bow, makes it easier to draw or kill some bastards while ye ride,” Bern rumbles, and then laughs when my face lights up.

  “Sands below, I’m so turned on right now. Who’s a pretty one,” I coo, and I hear a laugh boom out of him again before he slaps me on the shoulder.

  “Aye, long live our fucking queen!” he calls, making me grin and shake my head as I step closer to check out my new ride.

  “I’m not riding bitch.” Dray grins, leaning against the post of the covering.

  “A found ya Seeker man one too, not as fancy, but it’ll do,” Bern offers, jerking his head at a silver bike next to mine. Where mine is a speed rocket, this one is clearly not. It’s bulkier, with flames painted down the sides. Scratches, blood, and even a bullet hole also decorate it. It’s perfect for the crazy bastard of mine.

  “Aww, we should get matching bikes,” Dray coos, and I shake my head as I climb on my bike.

  “You checked it out?” Dray asks, nodding at the bike.

  Bern nods. “Aye, it’s safe.”

  “It better be. If she dies on it, I will hunt you across the Wastes and wear you for a coat—” Dray’s threat cuts off, his eyes lighting up as he checks out his new ride. “Ooh, look, a bullet hole!” he exclaims, squatting down to run his hand over the body of the bike.

  I roll my eyes, but I can’t fight the smile that turns up the corner of my lips. Glancing back at Bern, I reluctantly climb off my bike and say, “Let’s sound the horn, it’s time we ride out.”

  “Aye, let me gather the war party for ya, Ma Queen.” He salutes me by fisting his hand over his chest and smacking three times before hurrying away.

  “Are you ready for this?” Dray inquires, leaning back on his new bike.

  I once found an old porn magazine that had a half-naked girl sprawled on a bike, it was hot, but not as hot as my crazy Seeker King on his, looking like sex and sin incarnate. I find myself licking my lips to try and quench the fire burning inside of me. He leans farther back, his legs thrown over the bike as he tilts his head and smiles at me, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. His blades flash in the sunlight, his chest tanned, and his new scar brand standing out proudly between his holster straps.

  “Keep that thought for later, soulmate,” he purrs.

  Grinning, I stride over and grab his hair, yanking his head back harshly and angling his face until I can kiss him. He groans into my mouth as we eat at each other before pulling away, both of us breathless. “I intend to, but yes, I’m ready.”

  And I am. I can feel it coming, like a storm waiting on the horizon. My whole life has been leading up to this fight and it’s finally here. My every cell calls for blood. We share a dark look, both of us speaking without words about love, madness, and our need to make our enemies pay. “Let’s head out, the king and queen ride front and center,” I whisper hoarsely.

  I let go then and step back before I do something stupid like have sex with him right then and there on the bike. I swing onto my ride, sliding one of my swords into the handy leather strap, and secure my bag to the back. Then I slip into my leather jacket to protect my skin from the sand and unbearable sun. We’re going to be riding fast without many stops, so I need to make sure I don’t burn on the way.

  A Berserker walks past, heading to another bike, and I almost pout when I spot the black goggles on his head. Fuck, I could have used those. Sand in the face is a bitch and you can barely see without shades or goggles, not to mention how the sand dries out your eyes.

  Sighing, I glance away, but then do a double take when Dray hops up, grabs the goggles off the stunned Berserker, and saunters over to me. He offers them to me. “A present, for you.” He grins.

  “Aww, did you steal them just for me? Such a romantic,” I tease.

  I grab them and put them on, grinning at the now pissed off Berserker. When he continues to glare at me, I narrow my gaze and he jumps, hurrying away, obviously realising it’s not worth the fight. Dray hops back on his bike and revs the engine. I get mine going as well and we pull away from the shielding with my new goggles in place, letting me see easily. Once we reach the edge of the camp where the others are slowly gathering, I’m glad I have them. The wind is picking up, blowing sand everywhere, and I can already feel it coating my hands and exposed face. Turning in my seat as we wait for the others, I grab my bandana from my bag and tie it around my neck before covering my nose and mouth. There, that’s better.

  I look over at Dray to see he has done the same, and he winks at me before covering his eyes with silver shades, looking hot as hell. Think post-apocalyptic GQ, he would definitely make the cover.

  We only have to wait a couple more minutes before our war party is ready. Dray nods at me and I pull out, gunning it when I reach flat terrain. He rides next to me, with Bern and Henry behind us, and the rest spread around. I spot Archel speeding around my people only to fall back and then do it again, obviously getting a kick out of annoying people.

  I lean closer to the bike and go faster, testing my new ride. Each mile we cover gets me closer to getting my men back.

  Sands below, please let them be okay.

  For hours and hours we ride, and ride hard, not stopping once. I know the vague location of Paradise from when we left, but I keep double-checking the sun and locations we pass on the way. It seems as though we are coming from an opposite direction than I’d travelled before. I know the people of Paradise might not be happy when I ride up with a war party, but I only need to run in and get the maps from my father and then we’ll leave. My people can wait outside for all I care, I need those maps.

  I watch as our messengers break off from the party, speeding across the Wastes to carry out my orders. I suck in a breath through the clingy black material covering the lower half of my face. It’s happening, we are getting them back.

  Archel pulls up alongside me and signals for us to pull over. I resist, but his eyes narrow and he points again, so with a growl I slow down and follow him, veering from the sand covered, cracked motorway to the side of the road. We move around the broken and burnt out cars until there’s a big enough space for all of us to stop. I hear the others following as I kick out the stand on my bike and pull down my bandana with an annoyed glare.

  “What?” I snap, now that we are on the road, I don’t want to stop. I want my men and each minute away from them is too long.

  “We need to break. It won’t do any good if they’re half dead when we get there,” he points out gently. His soft tone makes me take a breath and look over the gathered warriors. He’s right, they need to at least drink and have something to eat.

  I nod and he calls out, “Break time! Ten minutes, then we’re back on the road!”

  I slide from my bike and stride off to stretch my legs, needing to keep moving with all this tension racing through me. I hear Dray following quietly behind me, but not even he can calm me at the moment. I will only be calm when I see them for myself, so until then, I will just keep moving. I spot a dip in the sand in the distance and head that way, crouching at the top of the hill when I reach it. It leads down to railway tracks and a turned over train. Dried blood covers some of the old yellow vehicle and glass litters the ground. I spot what looks like a campfire, so I slide down the hill and walk over. Ben
ding down to touch the charred wood, I frown when I realise it’s still warm. Who would be camping here?

  Something glints in the sunlight, causing me to tilt my head and palm my sword as I stand up and walk over, then pick up the object. I brush off the dust to reveal a broken knife. The handle is intact and well worn on the small knife, but the actual blade has broken halfway down, and is jagged and coated in blood. I swipe my fingertip along the blade and raise it.

  The blood is fresh.

  I quickly scan my surroundings for the source and spot a couple of splatters, so I follow them. Since they lead around the train, I glance up the hill, and seeing Dray’s silhouette, I beckon to him. He immediately sides down, silently moving to my side. I jerk my head at the blood, and he nods, grabbing two big ass lethal knives from his sheaths.

  Crouching down when we reach the corner of the turned over train, I peek around the edge before pulling my head back. Moving slowly, so we do not announce ourselves, I look again, noting the body of a man leaning up against the train not too far away. He’s covered in blood, so I can’t tell if he is dead or alive. A woman is on her side farther up, but I can’t make out much else. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around though. Could they have been attacked by a scav? Hunting party? Rogues?

  Fuck it.

  Standing, I stride around the corner, keeping my eye out for any movements in case it’s a trap. I stop in front of the man and Dray turns his back to me, spreading his arms to keep watch so I can check the man over. His eyes are shut, and one is swollen and purple. He has a split lip, his cheekbone is cut, and his face is dotted with blood steadily dripping from an unseen wound in his brown hair. The previously white shirt he’s wearing is torn and stained red, clinging to his stocky build. His trousers are cargo pants and dark, bunched up strangely. When I look closer, I realise why they look so wrong.

  Fucking hell.

  Holding in my gag, I reach out and push up the loose ends to check and… yes, I’m right. His legs from the knees down are missing, ripped away, it looks like, and blood is pooling underneath him. It’s been hours, maybe not even that, since they were taken from him. When he doesn’t move, I lean closer to check his pulse.

  Fuck, I kind of hope he’s dead. This must have been unimaginable agony for him. When my fingers touch his cold, clammy neck, his eyes fly open and a whine leaves his lips. I freeze.

  “I’m not here to hurt you,” I murmur softly.

  He darts a look around and tries to move, but a scream erupts from his cracked lips, cutting off as he chokes on his own blood. I wince and wait for it to pass, not having any water to offer him, plus, it wouldn’t make any difference, he’s dying.

  “Rosalina,” he croaks when he can finally speak, his voice weak and weedy.

  “Rosalina?” I echo, scrunching my nose.

  He looks to the side with heartbreak written in his eyes, and I follow his gaze to the woman close by. I can see from here that her chest isn’t rising and falling, so I know she’s dead, but I stand up anyway and go to check her. She’s naked from the waist up, and her trousers are intact, but her shirt is nowhere to be seen. Long, thick cuts mar her back, layered over older scars. She was a fighter, a survivor. I lean down and press my fingers to her pulse, but feel nothing. I turn her slightly and gasp, closing my eyes for a moment before I find the courage to open them again.

  Half of her face is ripped away, her eye socket bare and lips half chewed. No blade did this, teeth did.

  Cannibals.

  I lay her gently back down and rush over to the man. Tears well in his eyes and his gaze seems glued to the woman. “What happened?” I ask gently.

  “They—” He coughs again, blood rattling wetly. “They attacked us. I thought we were safe for a few hours of sleep, but I was wrong. They came in the night… must be their territory.” He closes his eyes for a moment before looking back at me. “She’s gone, isn’t she?”

  “Yes,” I answer bluntly.

  He nods, leaning his head back against the metal of the train. “She’s my sister,” he whispers, sounding pained. He blows out a breath and looks over at me, his eyes pleading. “Kill me, please.”

  I thin my lips and he smiles sadly at me, showing me missing teeth and a mouth caked in blood. “I don’t want to be sitting here waiting for them to come back and eat the rest of me. I’m going to die anyway, let it be on my terms. Kill me,” he urges, his voice stronger this time.

  “Soulmate?” Dray murmurs from behind me.

  “Are you sure?” I query, needing to know.

  “Yes, I don’t have a weapon to do it myself, broke mine in one of the bastards. Kill me, please, kill me,” he begs, sobs racking his body.

  He’s right, he’s going to die. It’s his choice to decide how—wait to be eaten alive, die from blood loss, or let me kill him. I won’t let him suffer any longer. I slip a knife from my belt while he isn’t watching and quickly stab it into his neck and pull it out. Blood spurts straight away, letting me know I struck true. It takes a minute for the light in his eyes to dim and then wink from existence. At least he’ll be with his sister now.

  I stand up and sheathe my blade. Fury, worry, and tension run through me, a volatile mix I need to get out.

  “I need to kill something,” I spit.

  “The cannibals can’t be far. They wouldn’t have left fresh kills and meat. Let’s go hunting,” he suggests, and I nod eagerly.

  I throw the two corpses another look before stepping up behind Dray, my sword in hand as I follow him.

  There’s a bloody handprint on the door farther down the train. I tap Dray’s shoulder and he follows my gaze, a grin lighting up his face as he heads over. We each take a different side of the door, looking at each other. I nod and he rips it open as we spin to stare inside. I don’t bother crouching, they don’t have weapons apart from their teeth, but they’re fast and we need to be ready to strike.

  The light streams in from the sun behind us as an awful, rotting stench hits me, making my eyes water and my nose burn. Fuck. I squint into the darkness and then freeze, spotting the shifting bodies and shadows in the deep recess of the carriage. I step back and Dray copies my movement.

  “You ready?” I ask.

  He grins, holding his knives. “Fuck yes.”

  I hit the side of the train with my sword, the clang loud on the metal. “Feeding time, you creeps!” I scream as loud as I can, before Dray and I step back again, rearranging ourselves side by side. I hear them first, sniffing and panting, their feet and hands dragging on the metal lining the inside of the train.

  I wait with bated breath as excitement courses through me from the imminent fight. One of them sticks their head out, its eyes unfocused and nostrils flaring, catching scent of us before it growls. I part my legs farther, giving myself a more stable stance, and wait as he snarls and jumps, aiming for us. More stream from the train, drawn by the first and our scent, heading straight towards us.

  I start swinging, losing myself in the feel of my blade cutting through the monsters, their howls of pain and screeches of anger driving me on. Dray and I dance side by side, moving like we have been fighting together all of our lives. I throw a knife into a cannibal’s skull when it sneaks too close to him, and he yanks me around to avoid the teeth of another. We move, we kill, and we fight, and before I know it, we’re standing in the middle of a pile of dead cannibals.

  I scan the ground and train, looking for any that escaped, but it looks like we got them all. My eyes catch on Dray’s to see him watching at me. We’re both covered in blood with our chests heaving, sweat dripping down our faces and, suddenly, we are racing towards each other. Colliding with our need, our lips crash together. We let each other know we are alive with our kiss, riding the exhaustion and lust that comes from surviving and killing. We only pull back when we have to breathe.

  “Dray, Worth? You down there? Time to go!” comes Archel’s yell.

  We share a grin as we sheathe our weapons. “Come on, soulmate, tim
e to ride.”

  “Filthy bastard,” I mutter, and a startled laugh bursts out of him as he helps me over the dead corpses and around the train. Twining our fingers together, he swings our arms between us as he whistles.

  Crazy motherfucker.

  Sand Bath

  The warriors are waiting for us when we get back to the top of the hill. I clean my hands with someone’s rag and a bottle of water, the clear liquid turning red as it runs into the sand below, darkening it. I chug the rest before donning my goggles and bandana, and swinging back on my bike.

  I scan my gaze over the group, and my eyes catch on Bern as he hits Evan in the shoulder, laughing his ass off. Evan grumbles with a reluctant smile on his face as he holds a blade tightly in his hand, looking awkward. I blink, watching as he hesitates with it, obviously unsure what to do with the new blade. I wonder if he has ever swung one or used one before? By the look on his face, I would say no. Slipping from my bike, I stop before a random Berserker warrior with two sheaths on each thigh.

  “Give me one of those,” I order.

  He eyes me for a second before stripping it off and handing it over without complaint. I head over to Bern, Henry, and Evan. “Here.” I hand it over to Evan.

  He looks it over in confusion, his eyebrows drawing together. “I ain’t putting it on for you, Doc, you don’t get my motor running. Strap it on and add some blades, you are going to need them.”

  He takes it, and we watch as he struggles to strap it on. “Thanks, Worth,” he says softly, after finally figuring out the sheath.

  “Can’t have you getting killed,” I grumble. “Dray stabs himself way too often for no doctor to be around.”

  An arm drops around my shoulder and I’m pulled into a side. “Don’t let her fool you, Doc. It turns her on when I bleed.”