Descending into a valley, there was a strange metal structure with poles holding it up and a building beyond. Roman smiled, offering, “Gas station. It’s how they fueled the cars.”
Lettering on the building’s small sign had faded away to nothing, but I couldn’t help but stare at the vines and weeds and wonder what it must have been like to live during the time it was in use, to drive in one of the cars—maybe the sleek one in our backyard for which I was named—to blaze down the highway when it wasn’t filled with rust and trees and bone.
“I know you’re in pain, because of your brother.”
Roman sucked in a sharp breath. Some wounds were sharper than others. “The women drained him. There were bite marks and bruises all over him.”
I pursed my lips, holding back my confession.
He paced back and forth; looking to me and then back at the hill before us. Roman sat down hard on the ground and cried. His shoulders shook and the sound of heartbreak and anguish poured from his mouth. When the torrent cleared, he looked up at me, tracks of blood trailing down his face. “You know what I miss the most? I miss the good part of him. Something changed him. I don’t know if it was the Infection or the way desperation twisted his mind, but he wasn’t the same brother he was when we were young.” He gave a sad smile. “Though I guess I’m not exactly that brother, either. It’s the same with you and Mercedes. You each made decisions and chose your actions, and maybe you wouldn’t have done what she did to survive or maybe you would have. Maybe she wouldn’t have done what you just did back there. Maybe she would have. It’s just that life throws things at you so fast that you have to decide how to deal with them in the blink of an eye, and sometimes we choose right and sometimes we choose the wrong way of handling a thing. But it’s a split second decision; more instinct than deliberation, and those choices, those split second choices can completely alter our lives forever.”
“And the lives of everyone around us,” I finished for him.
He cleared his throat. “Do you regret killing those women? The slaves that did their bidding?”
“I do.” Lying was almost second nature to me now. I didn’t regret killing Lydia, Marta, Elise or the monsters who worked for them. But I regretted killing Pierce. In the moment, I thought it wouldn’t matter to me. Did Pierce deserve to live? Maybe not. But what right did I have to condemn him?
While it was true that I was sorry for hurting Roman, I wasn’t sad that Pierce’s warped mind couldn’t hurt someone else. Just like I wasn’t sorry that those evil women had gotten their comeuppance. I was just sorry to have hurt someone in the process. And I understood now more than ever that sometimes split-second decisions regarding good and evil, life and death, are necessary—even when they hurt someone you care about.
Roman told me he needed space so I walked away, leaving him to his thoughts.
The walk must have been exactly what she needed, because when she finally arrived, the last to enter the gates of the abandoned settlement, Porschia seemed and looked like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. We stayed at the homes in The Glen overnight, Roman and I repairing and then guarding the wall to make sure all felt safe to sleep within it. He was quieter than normal, working and not talking. The loss of his brother hung heavily on his face.
The next morning, we yelled out to the gathered assembly that we would need to leave early since Mountainside was a farther walk. Most gathered just inside the fence a half hour later. A few people decided to stay at The Glen, against our advice, but we couldn’t force anyone to do something they didn’t want to do.
Porschia came out of one of the homes wearing jeans and a deep blue tank top that made her look like someone I’d follow to the edges of the earth, powerful and fierce. She crossed yards and streets and carved a path through the people waiting in front of the gate, lifting the bar easily and opening it for them. “We will protect you. Until you get to Blackwater we will keep you safe, but you have to stay together and listen to us. We mean you no harm and no harm will come to you in the Colony.”
The people who had been so frightened and still after their ordeal in the cages at The Manor began to clap. They thanked her for what she’d done. The freed woman told them when they were released, and Roman explained it again last night. He told them that Porschia ended the women who made them blood slaves, that she was the only reason they were being released, and to follow her until she asked them not to. Then he told them to begin walking, and that she would follow and make sure all was well.
They didn’t fear her like she thought they would. I saw the surprise in her face when she realized this, the way her brows lifted and she blinked, startled for such a reception. She didn’t revel in it like most men would, just waved them out of the fence and pointed in the direction they should travel.
We followed them, flanking each side with Mercedes among the people, all the way to Mountainside. Most had found shoes and better clothing in The Glen so the walk, though longer, wasn’t as difficult on them.
I squeezed her hand as I took off toward the front of those walking. She returned the squeeze with a smile and I could see that this wasn’t going to break her. I didn’t know if anything truly could at this point. She had survived more in a few short months than any one of us had in as many years.
It was dusk when Mercedes, the last of the humans, walked into Mountainside where they were all welcomed and invited into their homes. They made space when there was little of that left. Garreth met Porschia at the gate. She didn’t have to compel him to open the doors.
We were going to try to hunt. The people needed food and I could see it in the strain of her forehead that Porschia needed meat, blood, and rest. Scuffing my boot on the rocky path, I waited for her just inside the woods beyond the stone wall. It didn’t take her long.
She’d changed into one of the dresses she brought with her, one of Maggie’s. A soft yellow, it looked too delicate and feminine for what lay ahead of us. The crunching of boots from behind her drew my attention away from the dark hair spilling over her shoulders.
Saul cracked his knuckles arrogantly, wearing a big grin I’d love to knock off his face. “Are we hunting alone or in groups?”
Roman answered from behind him. “Two groups of two?”
“Or one in each direction,” Porschia offered, refusing to look up at me. “I’d like to hunt alone.”
What the hell was going on?
I shoved my hands in my pockets and nodded. “Either way, we’re going to have to run far to find anything at all, let alone enough to feed all of the people in Mountainside.”
“True,” Saul agreed.
“How’s Mercedes?” I whispered to Porschia.
“Doing a little better this evening. I think she’s just tired at this point. She’s resting.”
I nodded.
Roman clapped and talked loudly. “Let’s hunt alone, then. Nothing’s too small. Every bite will count.”
Porschia offered a small smile and she tilted her head toward the south. She was gone in an instant, her scent lingering in the gentle breeze of her wake. Saul took off to the east and Roman clapped me on the back before heading north. With the shortest straw, I took the west.
It was selfish of me, but I ate the first thing I could find; a gray squirrel that was well fed despite the famine plaguing the area. Without his meat, I wouldn’t have lasted the evening. I could feel my strength waning with each stride forward, but I had to find something to bring back.
Five squirrels, a feisty raccoon, and a fox were all I could come up with. I gathered as many edible mushrooms as I could find, as well as clovers and dandelion. They weren’t the tastiest things in the forest, but they could help stave off the hunger until we could get to Blackwater. Someone would need to run ahead and ask the Colony to prepare for the people’s arrival.
Hunting should be better closer to home, too.
I couldn’t believe how different everything was. We weren’t even that far away from home, yet
the rotation had always provided a steady source of meat, at least one or two animals each night, even if they were small. Had the hunts provided much more in the past?
A branch snapped on the hill above me. I looked up, and in the darkness saw her holding tightly to the trunk of a Sycamore tree. The sound of her fingernails digging into the bark grated at my ears. Her deep red hair hung silky straight as she looked around the tree trunk at me. She was trembling. Sniffing the air, I could tell she was human, her heart thrumming through her neck, and for a split second I imagined feeding from her.
“What are you doing in the forest?” I yelled.
“Help me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and raw. “I’ve been trying to keep up but I got left behind at The Manor. My ankle is... I don’t know if it’s broken or just injured, but I can barely walk at this point.”
“You were at The Manor?”
“Yes. A girl came to let us out of the awful cage they had us in and told us to follow a female night-walker toward The Glen. After what we’d seen at that place… everyone was afraid. We preferred staying in the cage to trusting them. In the panic to get away from the cage’s door, my ankle twisted. It wasn’t long before humans from another cage came to get us and reassure us that we were being set free and that no one would be harmed.” Her voice broke, but after a moment, she continued. “I made it to The Glen and spent the night in one of the homes, but I decided to walk to Mountainside on my own. I didn’t want to slow anyone down. I kept up for a long time, but then my ankle bent again and I couldn’t keep pace with the others. It may be broken. It hurts so badly.”
A silvery tear fell from first one and then the other eye. Her eyes were the strangest color of pale green, the color of lichen on a tree.
Why didn’t Mercedes say anything? Mercedes was at the end of the trail of people. Maybe she didn’t notice her. She had just changed, after all, and her mind was on other things.
I walked slowly toward her. The girl was younger than me, probably closer in age to Ford, with a face streaked with sweat and mud. “Will you help me get to Mountainside?”
“Where is your family?” I asked softly.
She blinked more tears, looking up at the sky or canopy above, I wasn’t sure. “Floating in the sickening river surrounding The Manor. My mother, father, and sister. There’s no one else left. I’m all alone now.”
More tears. She tried to limp away as I stepped forward, wincing and crying out with a shrill scream, “Don’t hurt me!”
“I won’t. I’ll help you, but you’ll have to carry a few things.”
She nodded. “I can carry them.” She nodded toward the animals I’d killed and the edibles I harvested. She was wearing what looked like the remnant of a table cloth or curtain, knotted at the sides and as dirty as she was. “I fell a lot. The mud is pretty unforgiving.”
“We’ve all fallen, but at least you chose to get up. What’s your name?”
The girl took hold of my things, clutching them tightly as I picked her up. “Delilah.”
“Let’s get you to Mountainside, Delilah. I’m Porschia.”
Her eyes widened along with her mouth. “You’re the one.”
“I’m a night-walker.”
“You’re a good night-walker. You set us free.”
“I did, but there are no good night-walkers. There are no good humans, either. I don’t trust you, and you’d be wise not to trust me either.”
She pursed her lips, gulping silently. “Fair enough.”
Something about her bothered me. I didn’t know if it was her story or her tears, but I could see that she was in pain, both physically and emotionally. That part seemed true.
I should have felt empathy. She was hurt, alone in the forest, and her family had been killed, but something felt ‘off’ and I’d felt that same nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach before.
Above almost everyone I knew, I trusted Maggie – and Maggie always said to trust my gut instinct. My gut said that Delilah was bad.
Two sharp knocks at the door in the middle of the night startled me awake, although Father was still snoring loudly from his room. I grabbed my candleholder, used a match to light the wick, and jogged down the stairs while cupping the flame with my hand so it didn’t blow out. When I opened the door Roman was standing there, looking like he was well again. Until I realized why he looked so well. Two pointed fangs appeared when he smiled.
“Where are my sisters and why are you a vampire?”
“They’re fine. They’re in Mountainside and will be here in the next day or so. I came early. We have a situation and I need your father’s help. Yours too.”
“What kind of help?”
“Wake him up. I’ll wait in the kitchen.”
I walked up the stairs, hearing him slide into a seat. “Make yourself at home, Roman,” I grumbled.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he shouted. Night-walkers. They didn’t need sleep, but we still did. I preferred Roman back when he was human and sick. He wasn’t as cocky.
Dad woke with a start. His immediate reaction was to ask, “What’s wrong?”
“We have a guest.”
“Who is it?” he asked, throwing back the covers and reaching for his candle.
“I have my candle, just follow me. And it’s Roman.”
“Where are the girls? Are they okay? They haven’t been gone long.”
Before he could spew more questions, I held my hand out. “Let’s just talk to Roman together.”
He followed me down the stairs, his own steps stiff. I could tell he wanted to go faster, but his body was holding him back. Father was getting more and more tired each day. I’d seen a huge change in him in the past few weeks. Luckily the girls hadn’t noticed yet.
Roman tapped his fingers impatiently on the tabletop. “Nice to see you, Mr. Grant.”
Father growled, surprising us both. “Why are you in my house? Why are you a vampire? And where the hell are Mercedes and Porschia?” The candlelight illuminated the tension between the two men.
“I’ll tell you everything. Just sit down and calm yourself. Your daughters are fine. Porschia asked me to come ahead. She needs the council’s help.”
“For what?”
“For the refugees.”
Roman spelled it all out. How the people of Mountainside had been so afraid of Porschia, and how there were no night-walkers in their settlement, even though in the past vampires and humans in Mountainside had co-depended on one another, much like those in Blackwater. He told us what Porschia said about the emptiness of The Glen and how she was taken to The Manor by a female night-walker. How Tage had come to get him, Saul, and Mercedes, and then changed them in order to free her.
Roman raked his hands through his dark hair. “We didn’t realize that she didn’t need saving from those women. She needed saving from herself.”
“What did she do?” Father asked tentatively, leaning his forearms on the scarred wood.
“She gave them what they wanted, and then she ended them.”
Father’s sharp inhalation echoed across the room. “She isn’t cut out for this life. Mercedes maybe would be, but not Porschia.”
“Mercedes was the first to volunteer to turn back into a human, but Saul and I decided to stay night-walkers until all are here and safe, maybe longer to ensure their safety. Don’t ever think that Mercedes is the stronger of your offspring.” His eyes flicked to me. “No offense, Ford.”
“None taken.” And it wasn’t. Mercedes wasn’t a bad sister or person, but I wouldn’t necessarily describe her as being strong in her own right. In a crowd, she would follow. She went with the flow, afraid to face the current in case it was too hard or swift. Porschia was always the stronger one. I knew it and deep down, so did Father.
“Now the refugees have made it safely to Mountainside, but the resources—namely food—in the forest have been depleted or driven away. The people will starve without Blackwater’s help,” Roman explained, leaning his chair onto the back
legs. The wood strained while balancing his weight.
“How many people are we talking about?” Father asked.
“Eighty-seven.”
Father leaned his head into his hands. “Where will we put them all? We have some houses open, but enough for so many?”
“The city,” I offered. “There are still some who will choose to live there, and it can be easily defended.”
“It may be the only option,” Father muttered.
“We can help defend the city and the Colony,” Roman added. “Now that there’s a cure for both plagues, we can rest assured that—”
Father stopped him with a bang of his fist on the wooden table. “Don’t think that just because a cure exists, there will be rainbows and unicorns, Roman. You of all people should know the truth of it after this week. It’s foolish to think this is all over with. Most of the world still doesn’t know about the cures.”
The front chair legs of Roman’s seat fell on the floor with a thud. “I know that, and I’m no fool.”
I was too tired to mind my own mouth. “How are you even here? If you just changed back, aren’t you in Frenzy?”
“Turns out that the same flower that caused Porschia so many problems was a simple solution to controlling a night-walker in Frenzy. It calms the...cravings and emotions.”
Father’s mouth gaped open. “You’re kidding?”
“Nope. So,” Roman said, slapping the table and standing up. “Think about what we should say to the council. I’ll meet you back here just before dawn.”
“Why didn’t you just show up at dawn?” I grumbled as Father saw him out, making sure to lock the door, even though that tiny sliver of metal wouldn’t stop Roman from busting in if he was motivated enough to breach it.
It wasn’t possible to rest knowing what work needed to be done, so after an hour of tossing and turning, I finally got up and went outside. Father was already sitting on the porch waiting for me. “We have a lot of work to do,” he said. “Not just in making room for those who seek shelter, but in feeding them as well. Did you show Brian your trap?”
Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4) Page 10