“But why?”
“Because Alfred thought I brought him luck and Randolph has always wanted everything his brother had.”
He shook his head, looking off into the distance. “I think they’re gone.” His gaze returned to her. “For now. We need to beat feet, though. We’ll be better able to hide from the scanners in the forest where there are lots of plants and animals.” He started to climb out of the water, but Prudence grabbed his hand, afraid he was angry with her.
“Maybe they’re not looking for me.”
He sank back down next to her, taking her face in his hands. “If you’d gone missing on me, I’d want you back.” He kissed her, slow and sweet. “Except I wouldn’t have sent someone for you. I’d have come myself.”
Goddess bless him, that was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to her. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” She couldn’t stand it if anything happened to Griffin. In a very short time, he’d come to mean so much to her.
“I’m not gonna.” He bussed her lips again and started out of the water. “Come on. We need to get moving before the next one comes along.”
“You think there will be more?” She searched the sky.
“In the Marines, when we searched for someone important enough to use scanners for, we always did so in waves of three, about an hour apart.”
Prudence followed him back to their campsite and shouldered her pack. They hiked all through the night and sure enough, about an hour apart, scanning ships flew overhead, forcing them to hide in the ponds dotting the landscape. It wasn’t until dawn, when they’d reached the base of the mountains that Griffin seemed to relax.
“Let’s take a break and eat.”
“Shouldn’t we keep going, at least find the next pond?”
“Nah.” He set his pack down and sat on a stump. “Those scanners don’t work worth a shit in the daylight, especially if it’s hot.” He lifted the edge of his shirt and wiped the sweat from his face. “We’ll be all right until tonight.”
Prudence put her bag down and stretched her back, wishing she could do the same with her legs without being too obvious. After so many days of walking, or maybe because of their lovemaking last night, she felt stiff and sore in places she’d forgotten she had. She sat down in the soft blue grass and started looking through her pack for the root vegies she had left over.
“What about this?” Griffin held out two fist-sized brown objects.
“Where’d you get them?”
He pointed up. Above them, the branches of the trees were loaded with the stuff. “You think it’s edible?”
She wet her lips. Goddess, she’d give just about anything for something sweet. “Let me check.” She dug to the bottom of her pack, opened the plastic container holding her treasure, and pulled out the field guide she’d guarded so zealously.
Griffin’s eyes widened. “Is that—?” He reached forward, then snatched his hand back. “Is that a . . . book?”
Prudence smiled. “A real book, printed on paper and everything.” Had she been worried he’d take it from her? He appeared terrified by it. “Mm.” She ran her hand over the cover. “I had it printed for this trip.” With the rise of electronic media, using products that contributed to diminished natural resources had gone out of fashion. Products like books had become more expensive until the average citizen couldn’t afford them. Eventually, people forgot about books, satisfied with electronic print.
“I’ve never seen one.”
“Printing is a dying art.” She opened it, paging though to the section on plants. “I’m friends with the Sisters of Charity. The nuns have strong feelings about certain things, one being the need for the printed word. They have this theory that someday all our knowledge might be lost if our networks go down. They don’t like the idea of all the print books in the world being in the Global Gallery, inaccessible to the masses. I guess their paranoia turned out to be a good thing for me. I never owned a Saph-link—not that one would be much good on Asteria.”
“Can I see?”
She held the book out to him and he shook his head as he scooted off the stump to sit behind her. “You hold it. I just want to look.”
Prudence leaned back against the strong wall of his chest and paged through until she found pictures of tree fruit. On the fourth page in she found an image of a fruit similar to what Griffin had. She held the fruit next to the page. “Berriegranate. It’s edible.” She glanced at him over her shoulder, but he appeared to have forgotten about the fruit, all his attention on the pages of the book.
“You know my favorite part?”
He dragged his attention from the book. “What?”
Keeping her eyes on him, she lifted her treasure to their faces. “Smell.”
They both inhaled a deep breath of the intriguing scent of printed paper, woodsy, and a little bitter. They shared a smile. “The Sisters are a bit rebellious. They still have an old press down in their basement and make copies of books they think are worth preserving. Sister Agnes took me down into their vault once. They had books from long ago and they all smelled different. She said it depended on what type of tree pulp the pages were pressed from, the type of glue and ink, and where it’d been. She said they picked up scents like clothing does.”
“Hm.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. “Odd how the damn thing brings on a sense of nostalgia when I’ve never even seen one before.”
“The sisters taught me how to make them.”
The low rumble of his laugher rolled through him. “A pioneer, huh?”
Yes, she had told him that she wanted to be a pioneer, but even pioneers needed books. She grinned. “Why not? Why can’t we have books on Asteria? Why can’t we do away with the bans on non-Christian religions, eradicate the social classes, and start over?”
Griffin’s expression grew serious. “There’s some things that don’t change, Angel.”
“Why not? The only reason something can’t change is if people don’t want it to. That’s why I didn’t want to stay on Earth. People seemed to like the way things were. I didn’t. I want to have an altar in my home dedicated to Dydona. I want to print and read books. I want—” She almost told him she wanted to be with him. Almost. But her feelings for him were too new and undefined. She knew she wanted him. She knew she liked to be with him. She cared for him. But was all that enough?
“I guess we’ll find out what’s what when we find civilization. We’ll see what the people of Asteria want.”
“And if we don’t like it, we can always start a new town.”
He searched her face for a moment, something stark and pain-filled in his expression. “We better eat, Angel. We can’t hang about all day.” He picked up one of the brown fruits and moved back to his place on the stump.
“What’s wrong?”
He took a bite of the fruit and motioned to the book. “What else does it say in there? Anything about the Scarecrows?”
Prudence wanted to continue the conversation, but knew he wouldn’t cooperate, so she let it drop. For now. “I’ve read that chapter a hundred times. The Scarecrows live in the mountains.” She picked up her piece of fruit and wiped it with her shirt. “They live in caves and use echolocation to hunt.”
“They’re blind?”
“Seems so. Nocturnal, too. Doesn’t seem to slow them down, though. They can fly and they’re quick. The fool who wrote this book says he survived by staying in their caves at night.” She let out an unladylike snort.
“Sounds reasonable.”
She stared. “Are you crazy? This is the same author who says the Black Desert is about half the size of what we endured.”
He shrugged. “Think about it, they all leave to hunt and we’re safe until dawn.”
“Oh sure, we just have to sneak past them not once, but twice.”
“At least we’ll know where they are. Better than making camp out in the open and jumping at every little sound. You have a better idea?”
“Goddess preserve us, you�
��re insane.”
*****
“Oh, lady, you don’t know the half of it.”
Prudence reared back. “We’re back to that, are we? I’m just ‘lady,’ again?”
Griffin got up. “I’ll be right back.” He walked off to get away from her for a few minutes.
What the hell were they doing? For a few minutes there they were cozied up, sharing a moment over a book that he would remember for-fucking-ever. And there she sat, talking away about changing things. About not needing social classes. Making it sound like they were going to be together forever. She was making plans. And him, dumb-ass that he was, listened. Thought, yeah, you know, she’s right. We could live here, the two of us happily-ever-after.
Bullshit. Horseshit. Scarecrow shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Griffin sat down and hung his head. He wasn’t supposed to care. He never gave a damn about the women he slept with and, damn it, they never gave him a second thought, either.
Why the fuck was she different?
She crawled right under his skin and snuggled up ‘round his heart. And now what? And now you do what you gotta do. You find your brother, you get your ass back to Earth and you make things right. Leave her here, take her there, either way you can’t let her make plans until you get your honor back.
“Griffin?”
“Yeah, I’m coming.” He dragged his hand over his head and down his face. Priorities. He had to keep his priorities straight.
Chapter 18
Griffin kept his gaze locked on the entrance to the cave.
The sun drifted below the horizon and, weapon in hand, he waited to see if anything was going to come out.
Behind him, Prudence had a shakey-handed death grip on his shirt. She was furious with him for this, but he’d be damned if he would sit out here in the open letting the Scarecrows pick them off like fish in a barrel.
Bit by bit, the lavender sky turned royal purple, deep violet, and then black. The stars appeared and the first of three moons rose above the treetops. Hell, when he’d first arrived, he didn’t think Asteria had a moon. Every other night since, a new one popped up.
His legs grew stiff and ached from squatting. He turned to Prudence. “We picked an empty cave. Come on, let’s get inside before anything sneaks up on us.”
She let out a long, shuddering breath and opened her mouth to say something, but her attention jerked to the side. “Look.”
There, to the side of the cave, one of those blue-and-black-striped creatures grazed in the blue grass. Griffin’s mouth watered. They’d nicknamed the creature zeblu and it was delicious. “Stay quiet.”
Griffin made his way closer, Prudence right behind him, easing around the bushes for a clear shot. The zeblu moved off to one side to graze in a fresh batch of blue grass, leaving nothing but the tip of its nose visible.
“Christ.” Griffin got back to his feet, sneaking closer to the mouth of the cave. Pressing his back against the stone surrounding it, he leaned around to take the shot. He lifted the gun.
Fluttering filled the night air.
The blue-and-black-striped zeblu lifted its graceful head, its ears perking.
A loud screech made Griffin freeze. The noise seemed to reverberate, sinking straight down to his bones and in its wake the flapping became almost deafening, a thousand wings beating simultaneously, echoing in the entrance to the cave. The zeblu darted away, and a big, gray blur flew out of the cave, followed by half a dozen more.
Griffin jumped back, trapping Prudence between him in the wall. Watched in awe as the creatures lifted their dinner high in the air. More winged creatures joined the first and tore the bleating zeblu into several pieces. Blood rained down. A ragged leg dropped, landing near the mouth of the cave with a meaty thump.
Scarecrows. Dozens more erupted from the mouth of the cave, taking to the skies in search of food. Griffin’s gut twisted as one circled back and landed not four feet away with its back to them. The creature bent down to retrieve the leg that had fallen from the sky. Wet smacking mingled with the sound of flesh being torn from bone. Griffin reached behind himself and squeezed Prudence’s hand, hoping she understood they were in peril.
Of course she knew, she hadn’t wanted to do this from the get go. And if they survived, it’d be a long while, he was sure, before she let him live this down.
He released her and she slipped the open Swiss Army knife into his hand.
A bird took flight from the trees behind them and the Scarecrow turned around.
The humanoid creature had leathery wings spanning from wrists to ankles like a bat. The fingers and toes resembled a bat’s, too, with thin, clawed appendages extending out from its limbs. That’s where the similarities ended. He’d always found bats to be cute, but there was nothing flattering about the Scarecrow. Its brownish-gray skin had the texture of a burlap bag. The eyes were tiny and black and the ears nothing more than holes in the side of its bulbous head. The sole feature of note was its mouth—a long black slash across its face.
The scarecrow tipped its head from side to side.
Neither one of them had moved. Neither made a sound, but something had captured the Scarecrow’s attention.
Griffin gripped the blade tight and studied the odd creature. He’d rather avoid using the gun—the sound might draw others. If he needed to, he’d go for the throat. Maybe the ear. If it was an ear, he’d have a direct-connect to the brain, providing his blade was long enough.
The creature stood before him.
His heart jumped in his chest and a healthy dose of adrenaline flushed into his system. He hadn’t even seen it move. One second it had been there, now it was here, so close he could smell its rotten breath. Breath.
Christ, the sound of their breathing had drawn its attention. Griffin held his, praying Prudence would notice and do the same.
She didn’t.
The scarecrow opened its mouth, revealing rows of jagged, rotten teeth, and screeched. Hell, it must be trying to get a bead on them, trying to see them through echo-location.
Griffin’s muscles tensed with his weapon held between him and the scarecrow. If push came to shove, he’d fire, but how many more would he attract?
The creature opened its mouth again, and this time Griffin struck, ramming the blade into the creature’s ear.
He didn’t kill it.
The fucking thing screamed, the sound different from the noise it had made before. Thin, clawed hands reached for his neck and blazed a fiery trail down his chest, shredding shirt and skin.
He wrested the blade from the Scarecrow’s head and thrust the knife into its neck. The Scarecrow fell to the ground, thrashing wildly, and Griffin leapt onto it, stabbing into its throat and face until its arms fell limp to the ground.
The Scarecrow had black blood. He tried to wipe the sticky, foul-smelling stuff from his hands, but all he managed was to spread it around more He swiped at his face with his upper arm, and his sleeve came away black.
Christ, he needed to get it off before Prudence saw.
“Griffin.”
He refused to turn to her. “Get in the cave.” He had to get the blood off. If she saw him like this she’d know. She’d see how comfortable he was with killing. She’d know he had horrible secrets.
“Come with me.”
The sound of flapping wings drew his gaze to the sky. Four of the creatures had returned to investigate. Griffin reached behind him for Prudence. “Get in the cave, stay against the wall and don’t breathe if they get close.”
Her hands pulled at his shirt, urging him up.
He waved her away. “Go.” He got to his feet, following, but keeping his eyes to the sky. He’d be damned if she’d get hurt on his watch.
One of the creatures screeched.
Griffin froze. After a heartbeat or two, he moved again, easing back.
It screeched again.
Shit. He froze, but knew he’d been caught. If the thing had half a brain in its head, it’d realize he’d moved.
The
Scarecrows swooped down, encircling him.
Griffin lifted the Lockheed Martin. If he was going, he would go down fighting. He shot the closest, swinging around and stabbing his blade into the neck of the second. For a split second, he thought he might make it. He brought the gun around, ready to shoot the third, but the Scarecrow knocked the gun from his hand, leaving long claw marks across his arm. He ripped his blade out of the second one’s neck, slashing out at the third. He gouged deep into the thing’s boney chest.
Behind him, the second Scarecrow still moved, its clawed hand closed around his ankle. The third grabbed hold of his wrist. A vision of that blue-and-black-striped zeblu being torn apart flashed through his mind, except in his mind’s eye, the creatures ripped him to pieces.
A blast lit the night.
The Scarecrow holding his arm released him and dropped to the ground. He spun around, stepping on the other’s arm, and coming down on it with the knife, stabbing until it let go.
Prudence still held the Lockheed Martin in jittery hands, ready to shoot again if needed, lavender tears rolling down her face.
He stood up after a quick glance around. He was covered in blood. His. Theirs. And the way she stared at him—as if he were one of the Scarecrows—he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was seeing him for who and what he was: A killer.
He needed to get her inside where they’d be safe for a while, but he feared startling her if he moved. Holding his arms out wide, he dared a step closer, his gaze flicking up to check the sky before returning to hers.
She jumped at his movement and for a heart-stopping moment, he stared down the barrel of his own Lockheed Martin.
A shudder ran through her and she blinked. Her arms dropped to her sides and she ran to him, throwing her arms around him.
Jesus. She wasn’t afraid of him. The wave of relief that washed through him left him trembling. He gathered her into his arms and carried her into the cave. He found a place to sit and held her close. “You’re all right, Angel. We’re fine.”
She squeezed her arms around his neck and cried silently.
Christ. He leaned back against the wall and held her tight. Why wouldn’t she say anything?
The Last Marine Page 15