The Offering

by E. R. Arroyo

  “About what?” he groans, his voice heavy with sleep.

  My cheeks flush. “I don’t know her name.” It comes out almost in a whisper.

  “Emma,” he says, just as softly. “When I lost her mom, losing Em became my greatest fear. But I pushed it back in my head so far I thought it’d never happen. We have a good system here, ya know, and we look out for people. Keep each other safe.” His voice is thick with emotion, yet somehow he’s detached, staring at the ceiling like he’s describing something far off instead of something happening in his own life.

  I pick a loose piece of thread from the seam on my pant leg.

  “I just can’t believe she’s gone. She was too young to die.”

  My head pops up. “Tyce…”

  “No, I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head. “Don’t need to hear nothin’.”

  “I don’t think she’s dead.” I sit up straighter.

  “I know Antius and what they do. They’d have no reason to spare my kid.” He throws his arm over his face hiding his eyes in the crook of his elbow. “Our existence is a menace to them and now we’re paying the price. They’re tired of us. We represent everything they hate.”

  I reach out and lay my hand on his arm. “You represent something they don’t understand. Something they can’t control. Don’t you see? You don’t need them, that’s why they can’t stand you. You don’t need their drugs so they have nothing to hold over your head. To control you with like they’ve done with other colonies.” I’m not sure when I realized that. “There’s more going on here than just war—than just violence.” He doesn’t speak. So I keep going. “There’s something … unique about me.”

  He scoffs, “I’ll say.”

  “I’m serious. Something about me, my chemical makeup, something in my brain that nobody else in Antius had. I may as well have not even been a person. My value was in a chemical my brain produced. Dylan told me they used it to create drugs. Now that they don’t have me, they’re probably desperate. They’re trying to find another anomaly. Maybe they think some of you could be the same.”

  Tyce sighs. “Perfect.”

  “Look. I’m not saying whether or not they’re killing people. They probably are. But I am saying there’s a chance they haven’t killed your daughter.” Yet.

  “Can we talk about something else? Even better, let’s not talk.” Tyce turns onto his side away from me.

  I stare at his back. “Maybe there’s some way we—”

  “Cori…”

  I look at the floor. This is a sore subject and I’m being insensitive. “I’m sorry,” I mumble.

  “You’re actually pleasant when you lose all that attitude you know.”

  I laugh. “Wow, you are desperate to change the subject.”

  He looks over his shoulder at me. “I mean it.”

  It’s not often he looks right at me when he’s talking, especially when his voice sounds so sincere. It makes my breath catch. I’m not sure if he notices but he reaches toward me and I can’t help but take his hand. He swipes his thumb across my knuckles before letting go and relaxing onto his back.

  Eyes now on the ceiling, he mumbles something I don’t quite catch. “What’s that?”

  “Nothing, doll.”

  I lie down on the edge of the mattress, mimicking his posture. “What are you thinking?”

  He clears his throat. “About my favorite book.”

  “Book?” I try not to sound incredulous but I’m sure I do.

  Again a soft chuckle escapes him. “Yes, I can read.”

  “How?” I prop up on an elbow, realizing I have no idea how Tyce’s generation became so different from that of his parents.

  “Same way I know how to speak. I was taught.”

  “By whom?”

  He glances briefly at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “A woman from the colonies. When we were young she made regular trips here and sometimes she stayed a while. She didn’t teach us all to read but I spent a lot of time with her. Can’t remember her name though. Eventually she stopped coming around. Probably died or something.”

  “And the … parents here, they just let her have access to their children?” I notice the light dimming through the window. Eli will be here soon to hunt.

  “Well, I think the colonies had some guy working with them. They didn’t tame themselves, ya know.”

  “Do you know which one is your father?” I throw my feet over the edge and pull my boots on.

  “Nah. For all I know he’s dead.”

  “Mother?” I ask, even though I’ve never seen a female elder. I lace my boots slowly, pulling them tight but still needing something to do. I’m getting antsy.

  “Definitely dead. All of them are. You gonna run out of questions soon?” He smiles, thankfully, letting me know he’s not offended—just teasing.

  “No, but I’m leaving soon to hunt with Eli. Any special requests?” I didn’t mean for that to come off flirtatious but somehow it did.

  “You hunt?” He cocks an eyebrow.

  “It’s my pleasure to make a dutiful contribution to the community here in The City.”

  Tyce props up on his elbow. “The Pitt,” he mumbles.

  “Huh?”

  “Pitt City. We call it the Pitt.”

  “Hmm.” I consider his words. No one else has mentioned it having a name. “How did you guys wind up here, anyway?”

  He exhales a deep sigh. His eyes fall closed and he flops back down on the bed. He takes a breath to speak but he’s interrupted by the knocking at the door.

  “Eli,” I whisper.

  “Good kid. Let’s talk later—I’m beat.” He doesn’t look up as I get to my feet and ready my hunting gear.

  “Get some rest, Tyce.”

  * * *

  Several weeks go by and Tyce is here almost every day. He never leaves for long and I often come home to find him in my bed. Sometimes asleep, sometimes not.

  I ask him regularly if there isn’t somewhere else he needs to be or something he should be doing. I’ve just asked him a variation of the same question when he finally responds, which he’s never done until now.

  “I’m retired,” he says.

  “From what?” I ask.

  “Management.”

  I lay my knives on the counter and begin cleaning them from tonight’s hunt. “So your plan is to pester me for the rest of your life?”

  “I love when you pretend I bother you.”

  With a freshly cleaned cloth I wipe blood from my blade. “Of course you bother me. I actually enjoy privacy, not that I’ve had any since you came back.”

  “Oh, come on. You know I’m good company. Everybody needs a companion. A friend, at least. Even though we both know I’m more than a friend. Soon as you admit you want me I’ll be a lot more pleasin’ to ya.” He’s been more like the old Tyce lately, which means he hits on me constantly. But he hasn’t crossed my boundaries physically. And I definitely had to set some.

  He insists on sleeping in my bed. When I started looking for another place to live he followed me so I gave up. We now sleep in the same bed—because I could only protest sleep for so long and the floor isn’t cozy—but I made him swear not to lay a finger on me and he hasn’t. And I keep a duffel bag full of rocks on the mattress between us.

  He still thinks he can talk me into wanting him, as if that’s something you can talk a person into. I can’t escape the fact that Tyce might be right about my feelings. That maybe there is something there, which may have played a part in how easy it was to run away from Mercy and from Dylan. I think deep down I needed to see Tyce again to be sure. But being here, being with him, only raises more questions and settles nothing.

  After cleaning the blood off my knife, I toss the cloth into the pile I need to wash, then take a seat in the chair Tyce found and brought here.

  “All I’m sayin’ is for all your devotion, nobody’s keeping you warm at night.” Nobody meaning not Dylan.

  “I hunt at night.�
��

  “You know what I mean,” he makes a face, annoyed with me as usual. I still haven’t told him I broke up with Dylan. It would make it worse if he knew.

  “Are we doing this again?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes closed. I’m not fooling myself. Of course I remember the way I responded when Tyce kissed me. I remember how I felt. I can’t pretend I wasn’t attracted to him and I don’t deny that I’m attracted to him now. And he knows as well as I do that I came back here for him because I needed to know he was okay. But the last thing I need right now, here in The City, where things are finally going well and I’m finally fitting in, is for Tyce to complicate things.

  “Why hasn’t he come after you, doll face?” His playful tone is gone in an instant. “Wouldn’t you think he’d be worried? That maybe he’d miss you?”

  My boots are unlaced and I was about to take them off but now I’m ready to bolt. “I’m going to find somewhere else to crash. Eli probably hasn’t gotten far.” I re-lace my boots. I stand and so does Tyce, blocking my path to the door.

  “When are you going to stop doing this to yourself? You deserve to be happy. And you’re better without him. Stronger. You don’t need him.”

  “But I need you?” I ask flatly.

  “You don’t need me, no. I just think it’s a shame nobody gets to kiss you. And I want to. You’re beautiful. And you’re lucky I haven’t broken my promise.” He holds up his hands with his palms facing me, indicating our hands-off deal.

  He steps closer and I back up until I feel the wood paneling, reminding me of the last time he had me up against a wall. He leans in, careful not to touch, but his voice is soft and low, “I still remember how you taste. How your lips feel.”

  My eyes glaze over, exhaustion doing terrible things to my resolve. I have trouble remembering why I don’t want this. Maybe it’s because I’ve gotten to know him better and his personality is less than appealing. Or maybe his personality is plenty appealing and it scares me to care for anyone besides Dylan. It’s only ever been Dylan for me.

  Tyce drops his voice even lower, almost a whisper. “If I kiss you will you kiss me back?”

  “No.” I would. I really think I would. But I’m not sure I could take it … in light of everything. Wouldn’t it just become a stupid distraction for us both? He’s a grieving father and I’m … I don’t know what I am with him standing so close.

  He’s even closer now, if that’s possible, but still not touching. “Liar.”

  “Don’t.”

  His eyes linger on my lips and I’m finally certain that I would kiss him back. He moves just a half an inch closer, which is about as much distance as still remains between our lips.

  “You’re here because of me. You think I don’t know that?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m here because I had a fight with my boyfriend.” Heat flushes my cheeks as soon as I’ve said it. And I don’t bother to correct myself for not saying ex-boyfriend. It wouldn’t help my case. As Tyce studies my face, peering uncomfortably long into my tired eyes, I wonder exactly what my case is.

  “Sweet dreams,” he mumbles. Then he backs away, grabs his shoes, and leaves me alone with my pounding heart.

  Chapter Eight

  “I’m coming,” Tyce announces when Eli shows up for a hunt. We’ve been hunting in small groups lately, ours usually including Flex and Gavin and a few elders. In the time since Tyce returned, he hasn’t hunted.

  I shrug. “I guess we could use one more.”

  “I appreciate your permission, princess.” It’s been a week since he left me breathless in my apartment, not that he didn’t come back a few hours later.

  “I appreciate your sarcasm, genius.” I grab my things and head for the door.

  “Where to?” I ask Eli when we meet him on the sidewalk.

  “South side. They’re meeting us there.” He eyes Tyce for a moment but doesn’t seem to mind.

  “Lead the way, stud.” Tyce slides his blade in and out of its sheath like he’s keeping himself ready.

  The sun is still up while we trek to the south east end of The City. All too familiar bird screeches raise the hairs on my arms and the back of my neck. I hope that’s not what we’re hunting.

  We catch up to Flex and Gavin soon and they both clap Tyce’s back in their macho way, evidently happy to see him getting back to normal. He’s been a bit of a recluse and honestly I’ve not helped the situation by letting him stay at my place all the time. Luckily, they realize he does what he wants regardless of anyone else so they don’t blame me.

  The guys are all becoming comfortable with me around and I’d like to keep it that way. Eli has even called me sister a few times and truthfully, the kid warms my heart. He’s no less capable, has no less instinct than the rest of them, but he’s more compassionate than any boy I’ve met in the Pitt. I hook my elbow around his neck while Flex delivers his grand plan.

  “Seems we need to control a little situation. Been a while since we’ve had poultry.”

  My high spirits plummet. Birds. My arm tenses around Eli’s neck and he notices but doesn’t say anything. I drag my gaze across the buildings in the area and I recognize them from the time Dylan and I passed through here.

  “One block that way,” he points over his shoulder, “there’s a building so overrun with birds they’re turnin’ on each other. They’re hostile and they’re feeding on their own kind. Willin’ to bet that’s why our usual game is out of whack lately.”

  “So, we have territorial, over-populated, hostile birds?” I ask, somehow keeping the quiver in my belly from reaching my voice.

  “Yep.” Flex grins.

  “Perfect.” I take a deep breath.

  “You’re not scared are ya?” Tyce teases, giving me a little nudge with his elbow.

  “Hope not,” Flex says. “You’re the smallest.”

  I scrunch my face trying to process why that matters, then I notice the rope and harness in his hands. He smiles. I think I’m going to be sick. Wherever we’re going, they’re sending me in alone.

  I agree to this purely out of pride—not wanting to look like a punk in front of four guys who finally respect me. At least I think they do until they strap me into the stupid harness and attach it to a cord that doesn’t quite feel strong enough to hold me. It gives a little more than I’d like.

  Flex fills me in on the plan as we make our way into Birdtown. When we reach the target building the sight of it sends shivers across my skin. Easily the biggest and most overrun building around, it might as well be a dungeon. The building itself is adorned with feces, blood, and random bits of bird corpse and feathers. Scraping sounds and tortured bird-cries echo from within. Despite these ominous warnings we begin to scale the fire escape on the side of the building.

  We aren’t supposed to talk or make any noise from this point forward. If the creatures know we’re here, we’re toast. There’s no way we could walk away unscathed. In fact, we’d likely plummet to our deaths if enough of them attacked us this high up.

  Peachy.

  The platform above me rattles under Gavin’s weight. We all pause and I happen to be directly in front of Tyce who sees fit to whisper in my ear despite Flex having insisted no one whisper. “You nervous, doll?”

  I shrug slightly, then turn my head to whisper back. “You know me. Love a good adventure.” I can hear the fowl inside from out here. No telling how many there are.

  “Good girl.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he pats my hip.

  We wait, and nothing happens. We haven’t been noticed by the devil-creatures. Yet. We move on. Gavin points at the spot where his foot landed when he made noise and I make a note of it, not wanting to repeat his mistake. Luckily, the boys do likewise and we finish the climb to the rooftop without trouble.

  I peer over the ledge and take a deep breath.

  “We won’t let you fall,” Tyce whispers, somehow still too close to me despite the rooftop’s wide open space.

&nbs
p; I shush him and catch up to Flex on the front ledge that overlooks the street. He and Gavin begin lowering a huge net that’s pieced together like a patchwork quilt. It spans almost the entire width of the building. Seems this plan has been in the works for quite a while because I can’t imagine how long it must have taken to create this.

  Flex bobs his head at me and I know he’s silently asking if I’m ready. I nod. Tyce grabs hold of the harness strapped around my hips and tugs on them to make sure it’s secure, in the process jerking my body toward him and allowing his hand to linger a beat longer than necessary. I roll my eyes and approach Flex. He also checks my harness, but not nearly as suggestively as Tyce had done.

  Gavin uncoils the cord from the pouch on my back. It’s already attached to the straps on my waist. Flex double checks those too. All the preparation kicks my adrenaline up and when I can’t wait any longer, I head for the ledge. Gavin wraps the rope’s lead around a pipe, then gets a firm grip. Tyce stands in the middle also supporting the rope. These guys can hold my weight, no problem.

  I ease myself over the ledge and begin to repel down. I steady myself and look up at Flex. He uses hand signals to tell the boys to begin lowering me and they do. I stored my boots in my backpack opting for bare feet against the brick in hopes of being covert and agile. I touch lightly with my toes and the balls of my feet, gently making my way down.

  With the adrenaline coursing, I hardly notice the nerves. Until a black hell-creature steps onto the ledge. His round body gleams in the last remnants of daylight. His gnarly gray claws tap against the brick ledge. Over my shoulder, the sun is making its last stand on the horizon, barely shining at all now. We’re running out of time.

  The bird doesn’t notice me. But it will soon. I repel faster, finally reaching the ledge where the bottom of the net ends. Quickly as I can—and realizing I can’t do this part without noise—I hammer a bracket into the mortar, pinning the net against the building. The birds inside begin to stir more, the setting sun and the noise I’m making both working against me.

  The guys drag my cord to the right, moving me over to where I attach another bracket, making sure I’m beneath the windows and not visible to our prey. I do the same thing four more times until I’ve secured the net beneath the row of windows on this floor. Knowing what comes next, and not liking it one bit, I pull a ski mask over my face, put gloves on my hands, and tug my long sleeves down over my arms, leaving only my bare feet exposed.