“Yeah, you’re probably right, but I wouldn’t count on it.”
The words have barely escaped my mouth when the sound of footsteps directs my attention back to the stairs. Two red heels saunter down the steps, giving way to long dark legs, then a curvy torso clad in a tight crimson dress, and finally a head. The woman does not look in our direction as she descends, but no one in the room can help but watch her in all her grace and elegance. Her face is not a pretty one—no, pretty is not the word to describe her; pretty would be an insult—but her firm jaw and hard features give her a look of haughty indifference, which, when used by a cunning woman, can be a force of attraction all its own. Long, black spiral curls bounce gently against her bare shoulders, too perfectly formed to be natural. Her large brown eyes, which are decorated with shimmering brown shadow a shade darker than her complexion and winged black eyeliner, stare straight ahead, as if she is above everyone else in her presence and will not deign to even look at us. And her jewelry—never have I seen so many precious things adorning one person—dangling gold earrings studded with large diamonds, half a dozen pearl necklaces, ruby bracelets, and gold rings on almost every finger. She looks more like a pirate than a gang leader.
As the woman reaches the last step, she turns and finally decides we are worthy to set her gaze upon. She stares at Connor first, but not for long. When she has found him of no particular interest, her eyes rest on me. Her thick lips, stained with dark red lipstick, purse slightly as she looks me up and down, and her well-maintained eyebrows twitch infinitesimally. I do not like this look. But it is gone in an instant—a smile quickly forces its way onto her face before I can give the previous expression much thought.
“Welcome, both of you,” she purrs, speaking in a voice as embellished as the room we stand in. There is a trace of a Hispanic accent in it. “My name is Reina. As I am sure Nate has told you, I am the one in charge here in Sweetbriar.” The young man from before stands beside her, nodding. I didn’t even notice him come down, too distracted by this woman’s grand entrance. “Tell me, what are your names?”
“Nightshade. Connor,” I say, gesturing with my thumb to each of us in turn.
She smiles that strained smile again. “It is very nice to meet you both. Now Nate has told me he found you wandering around not too far outside of our walls. Can I ask what you were doing there?”
Connor opens his mouth to speak, but I quickly cut him off. This is a delicate situation and I can’t trust him to handle any part of it.
“Just passing through.”
Reina nods at Connor, whose leg has begun to bleed onto her carpet. “I see your friend here is injured. Would you care to recount what happened for us?”
This time Connor answers before I can stop him. “We were ambushed by a gang—uh, another group of people.”
“And this other group, what of them?”
“Dead,” I cut in before he can answer.
She nods thoughtfully, pursing her lips again. “To think, the two of you against an entire group—you are lucky you made it out alive.”
“We know how to take care of ourselves,” I say flatly.
Reina smirks. “Yes, it appears you do.”
Our gazes meet and the sweetness disappears from her eyes. She doesn’t trust me, and I don’t trust her. We stare at each other, two women not in the business of backing down to anyone, each waiting for the other to flinch or look away. Silence ensues for almost a minute before Connor decides to speak again.
“Please, we need your help,” he entreats. “I know we’re strangers to you, but you don’t seem like the type to turn desperate people away. I can’t get anywhere on this leg—Nightshade has had to carry me for the past few miles. We need a place to stay, just long enough to get some of my strength back. It would only be a few days, no more than that. I know you have no reason to help us and it may be asking too much, but—”
“Connor!” I hiss. Then, dropping my voice to a whisper so the others can’t hear, I ask, “What the hell are you’re doing?”
“Look, we don’t have any other choice. If we go back out there then I’m dead. And chances are you’re dead too if we keep moving at the pace we’re going. Our supplies are running low and I’m in no condition to hunt or do anything remotely productive. Do you really think you can feed the both of us on your own? Do you really want to? And what if what’s left of Roman’s gang finds us, huh? What then? We need somewhere to stay, Nightshade, at least until I can walk on my own. After that, we can leave. I promise.”
I search for a good reason to object, but he is right—having a safe place to wait until his wound heals is our best chance at survival. Not that I’m even sure I can call this place “safe.” Not yet, anyway.
Reina too has turned to whisper to the man she calls Nate, who I assume to be her second in command. They talk for a few minutes, glancing over at Connor and I every so often. Finally, after some debate, Reina turns to us with that phony smile plastered back on her face.
“We would be happy to help you in any way we can, and if that means welcoming you into our community until Connor’s injury heals, then so be it. Like you said, it would be wrong to turn away someone in need, and we here in Sweetbriar are not that type of people. However, there is one slight issue.”
Of course, why wouldn’t there be?
“Everyone in this community is responsible for pulling his own weight in some way or another. In order for us to shelter you both for the time being, Nightshade will have to work. It is only fair. In return for whatever services you provide us, we will provide you with food, the medical attention you seek, a house to stay in, and protection from the outside world. How does that sound?”
It sounds too good to be true to be quite honest, but I’m not exactly in the position to question this woman.
“Alright,” I say. “But what kind of a job are we talking about?”
“Do you have any special skills? Any abilities that might be useful to a small community?”
I shake my head. The only thing I know how to do is kill, but I’m not sure that qualifies.
“She can hunt,” says Connor. “And she can fight. I’ve never seen anyone better.”
Reina’s brown eyes light up immediately. “Is that so? Fantastic, we will put you on our hunting and patrol team then. Do you have any objections to this?”
I shake my head. I have never hunted with anyone besides Connor or my father, but I don’t imagine I will have a problem. After all, we’ll only be setting up some traps and waiting around. How bad could it be?
“Wonderful,” says Reina, clapping her hands together. “We will get Connor set up right away—can someone go and tell Dr. Lam she has a new patient to tend to?” One of our escorts, the tall woman with shoulder-length light brown hair, immediately hurries from the room to do as asked. Reina points to the other two. “Claire, Sheppard, would you be so kind as to help this young man to his new home? Put him in one of the empty houses and report back to me with the number. I will take note of it.”
The older man and the blonde obediently begin to help Connor out of his chair, but I stop them.
“No, I’ll do it,” I insist. I don’t trust them to handle him. For all I know they could be trying to separate us on purpose.
“You have no reason to worry. They will be gentle, I promise,” Reina assures me. “For now, Nate, would you please show Nightshade around Sweetbriar? Give her the full tour, introduce her to some of the residents, and take her to the cafeteria and get her something to eat.”
“What about our weapons?” I ask as the two escorts carry Connor toward the door. The older man, Sheppard, still has my swords. “I want them back.”
“Why? You have no need for them here. This is a very safe community.”
I glare at her, feeling the tension build once again as we lock eyes, both wrestling to assert our dominance over the other. “I would feel more comfortable if I had them,” I say.
Reina hesitates for a moment and the
n nods to the others. The older man stops what he is doing and tentatively hands me my swords—as if I might be stupid enough to use them against him—and, since Connor cannot take them at the moment, the blonde returns the black machete and Angelica’s knife to me. Nate relinquishes my knife belt, but refuses to give back the guns. I turn back to Reina to ask what the hell this is about, but she explains before I get a chance to speak.
“We have minimized the carrying of firearms in Sweetbriar, since within these walls they are not a necessity. No one is allowed to have a gun unless he or she is on sentry duty or outside the camp. I will allow you to keep your swords and knives if having them in your possession puts you at ease, but for now I will keep your handguns in our arsenal. And unlike the others, you will not be allowed to take them outside of Sweetbriar. It is just a precaution, of course, but for the time being I think everyone would feel safer if we held onto them.”
I don’t object to this and gladly put my swords and belt back where they belong. Although I do not like the idea of these people taking my guns away, I am honestly surprised they gave me back any of my weapons, but I suppose Reina knows we would have to be crazy to try something. As I hold the black machete in my hand, I decide it is better if I hold onto it from now on instead of Connor. After all, it was me who killed The Leader, so this weapon is my burden to bear, not his.
As Nate escorts me toward the door so we may begin the tour of the town, I cast a final sidelong glance at Reina, who keeps her cold brown eyes fixed on me until we exit the building.
Chapter 26
“Don’t worry,” Nate says as we begin our walk through the quaint little town, his tone much more amiable than before. “Your boyfriend will receive the best treatment possible. The town doctor—Dr. Lam is her name—she’s amazing at what she does. She was this super important physician at some real prestigious college before the War, so you can be assured she knows exactly what she’s doing. We’re real lucky to have her here.”
“Not my boyfriend,” I say.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed . . . I’m Nathan, by the way—you probably already knew that—but my friends call me Nate.”
“Nathan it is, then.”
He smirks. “Alright, I mean, whatever you’re comfortable with. So, I guess I should tell you a little about Sweetbriar. Ready for a history lesson?” I nod and he begins heartily. “Okay, so, not to brag or anything, but I was a big part of the reason why this whole place came to be. After the War I found a few other survivors who hadn’t gone batshit crazy and we went looking for somewhere to settle down, somewhere we could protect ourselves from the gangs. I met Reina at some point along the way—can’t remember when, exactly. It’s all sort of a blur now. She was always kind of our leader, even from the beginning. She just has this real natural authority, that woman, the kind that makes people fall in line behind her. Anyway, it took months and months, but eventually we happened to stumble upon this place way out here.
“It was some sort of retirement community for well-to-do old folks or something—at least, that’s what we’ve speculated over the years. By some miracle, we found it pretty much untouched by anything except for time. There was no damage from the bombing raids or gangs or anything. It was perfect, like God had floated down from the sky and plopped it right in the middle of the woods just for us. Reina built this town for a few of us—there were maybe twenty or thirty of us back then—but soon we began to look for more and more people who needed refuge, so it became kind of like a sanctuary. Eventually, though, it got too dangerous to keep sending scouting parties out to find people, not that there were a whole lot of good people left to be found, so we stopped those altogether. It’s been a long, long time since anybody new has walked through that gate. Years, maybe. But we’re proud to say no gang has ever gotten through that gate or climbed these walls, not once, which is why everyone feels so safe here.”
“And how many people are there, exactly?”
“With you two, I think that makes sixty-three.”
Sixty-three people! I haven’t seen that many people in one place since before the War. No gang or group I know of has ever reached a population this large. Whatever these Sweetbriarans are doing, they must be doing it right.
“Like Reina said, everybody here has a job. We have bakers, farmers, teachers, a doctor, a preacher, and hunters like you and me. My job is to lead the patrols and hunting missions. I decide when and where we go, and I’m also responsible for assigning people to sentry duty. Other than that, Reina makes most of the decisions for Sweetbriar.”
“You trust one person to make all of the choices for your town? Isn’t that sort of a dictatorship?”
“We all trust her judgment, but when it comes to important matters we usually call a town meeting and everyone will voice their opinions. We try to have an assembly at least once a week to discuss any problems or grievances any of the residents have. This way everyone gets a say. It’s all very democratic.”
I attempt to find a flaw in this system, but for their purposes it doesn’t seem so bad. Maybe these people really do have it all figured out. As Nathan takes me around the town, rattling off a list of its inhabitants and short biographies of each, I am struck by the realization that these people are living in a more civilized world than I have known for the past six years of my life. They aren’t wandering around all day in the wilderness scavenging for food, sleeping on the ground, killing other people in order to stay alive—they’re sleeping inside of warm houses and working nine to five. Nate tells me of the bakers, Mr. and Mrs. Walker, a lovely older couple who have never picked up a weapon in their lives aside from a knife to cut bread with. He talks about the elementary school teacher, Savannah Kaysen, a sweet girl with a lamb-like disposition who is barely more than a teenager. He also speaks of the preacher, Mr. Elijah Sheppard, the forty-something-year-old man in his patrol group, and although he carried a gun today I am sure he has never known violence in his life.
These people are nothing like me—they do not know real danger or what it is like to live outside these walls. They are sheltered, ignorant, naive; and the longer I am here, the greater danger I am in of becoming just like them. I don’t belong behind stone walls or iron gates, ignoring the chaos around me. My place is outside amidst the fray. I resolve not to stay here any longer than I have to. I refuse to see myself become as cushy as the inhabitants of Sweetbriar.
It is dark by the time Nathan finishes the tour and leads me to the indistinguishable gray house Connor and I will be staying in for the time being. After I half-heartedly thank him for being my guide, he tells me to be ready for hunting duty in the morning. With that, he leaves and I enter my temporary dwelling.
The low flame burning from the fireplace, the moonlight streaming in through the windows, and a candle in the middle of the floor are all that brighten the dark interior of the house. It is not exactly homey—the only furniture in the room is a little cot pushed up against the back wall. I watch the thin white blankets draped over the cot rise and fall with Connor’s gentle breathing. He must be asleep. I creep over on silent feet as not to disturb him, but as I get closer I realize his eyes are open and he is watching me. Smiling, he pushes himself into a sitting position as I take a seat against the wall.
“How’s the leg?” I ask.
“A lot better. Dr. Lam removed the bullet, cleaned it out, and wrapped it up for me. She said the tissue and muscle damage wasn’t nearly as bad as it could’ve been, and I’m really lucky it missed the bone. By her estimate, I should be able to start walking again in a matter of weeks.”
Weeks! I was expecting to stay for a couple of days at most. But it isn’t worth the risk to try to move Connor before he is ready, since doing so might exacerbate the injury. I suppose a few weeks are doable.
“We’ll stay as long as you need,” I say.
He grins. “Thank you, Nightshade. Hey, so what do you think of Sweetbriar? Pretty nice, huh?”
“I don’t like it.”
“There’s just something strange about it. It’s too—too—”
“Safe?”
Shaking my head, I stand up and begin to pace around the room. Moving always helps me think.
“It just doesn’t feel right to me. I mean even the way that Reina woman was looking at us, did you see it?” In my pacing I happen to pass by the window, and as I do I notice two dark figures lurking outside our door, just staring at the house. “Look at this! There are guards outside. Guards, Connor. What does she think we’re going to do?”
Connor shrugs. “She doesn’t trust us yet. So what? You don’t trust her either.”
“Do you?”
He hesitates for a moment. “I don’t see any reason not to. She let us into her community, she’s feeding us, she’s helping us. I think we should give this place a chance.”
With a sigh, I stop pacing and sit back down in the same spot as before. For a while we are both silent and all that can be heard is the sound of the Sweetbriar townsfolk retiring to their homes for the night.
“Oh! I almost forgot,” Connor exclaims as he reaches for his bag and begins to rummage through it. From it, he draws a thick book, the cover of which I cannot see clearly until he places it in my hands. The words “A Tale of Two Cities” glint in the flickering candlelight. My breath catches in my throat.
“This? This is what you went into that bookstore for?” Then, after a moment’s hesitation, I add, “Is— is it for me?”
He shrugs again. “The way you talked about it made it seem like a book worth reading. And yeah, of course, it’s all yours. I would like to read it, though, if you’d be okay with letting me borrow it.”
“Yeah, sure, of course,” I reply as I flip through the pages, wafting their crisp scent. “Hey, I never thanked you for what you did earlier.”
Connor looks up at me in surprise. “What, you mean with that gang? You don’t have to thank me. I’m sure you would’ve done the same thing.”
The Deadly Nightshade Page 12