by Amy Braun
Riley pushed Sawyer onto the deck. He whirled around and tried to race back to his brother.
“Captain!” Gemma screamed at him. “Get on the helm!”
He turned to her and stormed in the direction of the hand-wheel. My eyes were transfixed on Riley as he stood before Davin, alone on the skiff we were splitting away from. My mind blurred into a mess of terrified thoughts.
Why isn’t he running, what is he doing, Riley, get back here–
The Hellion was grinning. Over the wind and billowing snow, he shouted, “Not bad, Riley. The Vesper’s clearly impressed.”
Davin lunged, but Riley was quicker, spinning on his heel and launching himself across the skiffs. Sawyer was already pulling away, creating a gap that Riley almost couldn’t pass over. He slammed into the skiff’s side, clinging to the railing and struggling to pull himself up. Gemma helped him, and once we were all on board, Sawyer accelerated to full speed and left his brother behind.
I sat cradled in Nash’s arms, listening to the storm and the shouts, shivering from the bitter chill and blood loss. I couldn’t remember the last time I was so tired. I closed my eyes while urgent commands twisted into the howling wind. They sounded so far away. Eventually the sounds of the storm faded with the distant voices, and I was left with silence and the dark.
Chapter 6
When I woke up, the cold was a distant memory, but the pain remained.
I moaned, feeling a sharp sting in my throat whenever I turned my head. I pulled my hands out from under the blankets and pressed my fingers to my neck. It was wrapped in a bandage, but didn’t feel wet from where I’d been bitten.
My eyes snapped open.
I was bitten. Davin’s teeth had been in me, tearing through my flesh and drinking my blood. I could still see him, the hunger in his eyes, the twisted smile on his face before he used me for food, before he ripped into my throat, flaying me alive, not to be satisfied until all the skin was stripped from my bones–
“You’re awake.”
I jumped and screamed at the voice, though it came out as more of a strained gasp.
Moira yelped, clutching scissors, thread, and gauze to her chest. Gemma limped in front of her, kneeling down beside me and clasping my hand.
“Whoa, hey, Claire, it’s just us. You’re safe.” Her voice softened, her dark eyes growing concerned. “You’re safe.”
It wasn’t until I heard her tone that I realized I was crying. I sat up on the hard mattress, wincing at the pain in my sides. Mementos from Davin’s boot. I touched the gauze bandage around my neck.
“Looked pretty bad for a while,” Gemma said, getting up from her crouch by the mattress and sitting on a crate next to me. She grunted and favored her right leg, but didn’t wince. “Nash was basically painted red when we got you back to the ports. Moira needed to give you a dozen stitches, but you were out for that part.” Her smile wavered, and didn’t hold. “We’ve been changing the bandages and disinfecting the wound for the last couple days, but we were pretty worried you might not wake up at all.”
She hesitated, then added, “Riley’s been losing his mind, and we’ve had to drag Sawyer out of here a couple times so he wouldn’t get in our way. We’ve told them both to back off and get some rest, but I don’t think they’re listening.” She frowned. “I damn sure know Sawyer isn’t.”
I closed my eyes and sighed. A headache began to build behind my eyes. If they were frantic and running on little to no sleep, I could only imagine what their attitudes to each other were like.
I nodded and muttered my thanks. I meant it, but talking hurt my throat. As if sensing my pain, Moira set aside her medical supplies and reached for the shelf beside her. I squinted to watch her, taking in my surroundings through narrowed eyes. The room was only about ten feet wide and as far across, metal shelves and wooden crates lining the walls. Light glowed from the two lanterns placed near the door. I wasn’t on the Dauntless. I was in a storage room. I wasn’t offended. I doubted anyone on the crew wanted to carry me all the way up the ship’s netting to put me on the ship while I was unconscious.
Moira scurried forward and handed me a small glass of water. I took it gratefully and guzzled as if I just found an oasis in the heart of a burning desert. Unfortunately, it felt like I was swallowing a lump of tar. Once I was finished, I coughed until I was able to properly say, “Thank you.”
Moira smiled at me. “The stitches are secure, though it will take some time before you can remove them. The wound was deep, but no major veins or arteries were broken. Mostly, I think you just needed rest.”
The three of us sat together quietly as I tried to find my voice. There was one thing I had to know if I was ever going to sleep again.
“Is… Did Davin follow us back here?”
Moira flinched. She had never gotten used to the idea of Davin Kendric being alive, and she shuddered whenever we mentioned his name. That was the reason we didn’t tell her Sawyer was Davin’s brother. She didn’t see the family connection, and hopefully, she never would.
Gemma shook her head quickly. “Sawyer set up watches, but we haven’t seen him. Far as we can tell, he was lost in the blizzard.” She sounded like she believed that as much as I did.
I shivered, setting the glass onto the metal shelving unit beside me and pulled the blankets higher around my body. “What happened?” I asked.
Gemma sighed, running a hand through her thick brown hair. Looking at her closely, I could see the bruises on her face and dark rings under her eyes. I was guessing that no one had slept well over the last couple days. Despite what Moira said, I didn’t feel very rested myself.
“We’ve been laying low. Turns out the drafter district wasn’t the only place to get attacked. On the flight back here we saw the market and South Junkyard burning. A couple skiffs in the distance. Nothing as big as the Behemoth, but we have no idea if they’re being driven by Hellions or humans, and we don’t know where they’re coming from. We can’t really sleep with both eyes closed anymore.”
I sighed. The breath felt heavy in my chest. We’d survived, but only barely. Davin had the plans, and–
My thoughts stopped. I looked down at my clothes, seeing that I only had pants and a shirt on. I wasn’t wearing my coat.
I twisted back and forth, ignoring the bruises protesting in my sides.
“Claire?”
“Where’s my coat?” I asked in a panicked whisper.
Gemma narrowed her eyes. “You planning to go for a stroll in a blizzard?”
I snapped my head in her direction, gritting my teeth as the stitches in my neck tightened painfully. I hoped she read my painful grimace as an angry scowl. “Gemma!”
She held up her hands. “All right, all right, calm down.”
The marauder stood up from the crate and crossed the room. She pulled a tarp off a pile and lifted something up from the floor. My heart nearly shattered with relief when I saw my mother’s red leather journal and the passbooks. I practically tore them from Gemma’s hands when she returned to hand them to me. I flipped through the pages to make sure everything was still inside. The books were intact. Nothing was missing.
“There. Better?”
I glanced up at Gemma. Holding the journal definitely placated me, but I couldn’t see it as an improvement right now. Not when Davin was out there with the Palisade’s design plans. I shuddered at the memory of his fangs plunging into me again. I clutched the journal and passbooks to my chest and drew my knees up to hide it.
“I don’t have the plans anymore,” I mumbled.
“We know. Don’t worry about it, Claire. You’re safe, and that’s all that matters.”
Gemma smiled and lightly slapped my arm. I wished I shared her enthusiasm.
“Is everyone else okay?”
She shrugged, patting the bulky square under her pants, where the bandage must have been. She made no indication that she was in pain.
“Depends on your definition. We’re all banged up but intact. Sa
wyer and Riley don’t have many marks on them, but they’ve been at each other’s throats since we got back. Nash literally had to pry Sawyer’s hands off Riley’s neck at one point.” Gemma shook her head. “Never seen him so mad before.”
I didn’t know what to make of that, so I made no reply. “What about Abby?”
Neither Moira nor Gemma said anything. They looked away. A hollow feeling grew in my stomach like a chasm. Gemma finally met my eyes, her sorrow burrowing into me.
“I’m sorry Claire, I... I think she’s getting worse.”
I threw the blankets from my body and started to get up. “I need to get back to work.”
Moira shuffled forward, gathering the blankets and trying to push them around me again. “You should rest. You lost a lot of blood, Claire. You need your strength–”
“Then I’ll eat all my rations for once,” I snapped. It made me sound stronger than I felt.
Moira shrank back a little. I winced, immediately feeling the regret over my biting response. I took a moment to calm down. Moira was my friend. She cared for Abby like she was her own child when I went on missions with Sawyer and the Wanderer crew, and she treated and stitched up a wound that could have killed me.
“I’m sorry, Moira. I really am. I just… I can’t leave her like this. I won’t let Abby become one of them.”
Moira looked confused for a moment, then took a breath to speak. Then she rose, and I watched realization drag across her face. It was awful to watch her remember that her little girl was dead, and that she was calling my sister by a different name to ease her heartache.
Moira nodded slowly, tears building in her eyes. “I’ll go check on her. Mol… Abby was asleep when I left, but she wanted to see you when she knew you came back. Try not to agitate your stitches.”
The older woman set her tools on a table near the wall and shuffled toward the door. She closed it behind her with a soft, finalizing click. I sighed and rubbed a hand across my face.
“I didn’t mean to make her upset,” I whispered.
“I know,” replied Gemma. “But that doesn’t mean you can play out her fantasy, Claire. Abby is your sister first, Moira’s wish second.”
It was harsh, but she was right. I would have done anything I could to ease Moira’s pain, but I couldn’t engineer the dead back into life.
We lapsed into silence, something that was rare for Gemma, which told me just how dire the situation was. She glanced at me frequently, like she wanted to ensure I was awake and alert instead of quiet and comatose. I smiled gently at her, trying to show just how much I appreciated her being here with me. I reached over and squeezed her hand. Gemma read my eyes and squeezed back.
Muffled shouting from outside the door broke our silence. Gemma glanced over her shoulder, listened, then rolled her eyes.
“Sounds like they’re at it again.” She turned to me. “Do you think you have the energy to talk to them? If I have to listen to their bitching for one more day, I’m going to throttle both of them.”
I grinned. “You make it sound so appealing.”
Gemma shrugged. “I call it preparation.”
She stood up and offered me a hand, but I declined. If I was going to get my strength back, I needed to do simple things myself. I stood up and felt the muscles in my legs stretch. I sighed at their stiffness and the unwelcome pins and needles feeling that engulfed them when I moved, but I was happy to be on my feet again. I walked to the door on my own, though Gemma stayed close to my side.
When I stepped out of the room, the hangar was illuminated with kerosene lamps that emitted a familiar white glow. I looked around and sighed. I wouldn’t exactly call this place home–nothing could match home after revisiting the one I grew up in–but I was comfortable here. It was enough.
It didn’t take me long to find the men. They were standing in the middle of the hangar next to the weapons tables and unsorted crates. Nash was between Riley and Sawyer, since he was the only one big enough to actually block them from another. Moira was nowhere in sight, so I assumed she had scampered into the Dauntless before the soldier and the pirate started berating each other.
Riley stared at the ground with defeat, as if he no longer cared what was said about him. Sawyer was a beacon of rage. His was rigid as a statue with his fists balled at his sides. His coat was gone and his hair was even more tousled than usual, like he’d been pulling it out by the roots.
“How many more times do you want me to say it?” Riley sighed.
“As many times as it takes to get the truth,” Sawyer bit out.
“I don’t know what he meant.”
“But you know him. He seemed really friendly toward you.”
Riley’s head snapped up and his jaw tightened. “Spend two years under someone’s fist everyday and they think you’re close. Surprised he didn’t act friendlier to you. He’s your brother, isn’t he?”
Nash moved in front of Riley, but not because he was angry. He was trying to protect Riley from Sawyer.
“Trust me,” the captain said in a dangerous, low voice. “I know exactly what Davin is capable of. By now, so do you. Which is why I think that if you were smart, you would have made a deal with him.”
Nash tried to intervene. “Sawyer–”
“What kind of deal could I possibly make?” Riley suddenly burst. “They broke me until I was nothing. Nothing! They cut me to ribbons for fun and were going to use me for fuel when I lost value. I lost all hope before Claire found me. If I thought she was going to be hurt, you think I would have let her come along?”
“Nothing would have stopped her, but–”
“Exactly! If anyone’s to blame for not protecting her, it’s you.”
Sawyer went still. Even Gemma and I slowed down. I tried to pull forward and stop their argument, but Riley wasn’t finished tormenting his captain.
“You know what kind of danger she’s in, but what have you done to help her lately? Am I supposed to be enough against someone like Davin? You think I can protect her from the Vesper? Or is she a burden you just want to put on someone else?”
Nash tried to grab Sawyer, but wasn’t fast enough. The marauder captain shouldered past his first mate and rushed Riley. The soldier took a step back, but Sawyer’s fist still collided with his jaw. Riley staggered to the side, and Nash had to grab Sawyer with both hands before he could hit him again.
“Stop it!”
My voice was ragged and ugly, but it got their attention. Nash winced at me, and Sawyer’s eyes widened with horror. Riley turned as he rubbed is jaw, freezing his movements when he locked eyes with me. I must have looked worse than I thought.
Sawyer jerked free of Nash, but didn’t make another move for Riley. Now that I was here, he seemed to have forgotten all about the soldier. He made his way toward me, as if magnetized.
“You should be resting,” he said apprehensively.
“And you should be acting like a captain, not like a thug,” I hissed back, my voice scratching along my throat as it rose. “Riley did what he could. Stop accusing him.”
Sawyer halted, a wounded look flashing through his eyes. I thought about what I’d said. Being called a thug was something his older brother would have thrived on. Sawyer was doing everything he could to avoid the comparison. My words had cut him deeply. He lowered his eyes and backed away.
A twinge of guilt went through me, but I couldn’t let it show now. I needed to focus on the real problem at hand, not the torn feelings and confusion surrounding Sawyer and Riley.