The others nodded. Ashley shrugged the bag from her shoulder, handing it to Carter. Bus waved as they walked away.
“Come on, sweetie,” Magnolia said kindly. “Let’s get you settled, eh?”
Before they could reach the door, it swung open and a tousled auburn head popped out. “Momma?” a little girl called, her cheeks flushed pink from running. “Can Spider sleep in my room? She told me I should ask you.”
“Spider’s going to be in Bryony’s room with Samson,” the woman told her carefully. “And Bry is staying with you, remember? We already talked about this.”
Frowning unhappily, the young girl nevertheless nodded and then disappeared back into the house. Magnolia sighed. “My daughter, Peony,” she explained with a smile. “You’ll probably see a lot of her. Or, at least, hear.”
Ashley hesitated. “Did she… um, make all this?” she asked, gesturing to the birdcages and trying to keep her tone casual.
“No, that was me.”
“They’re nice,” Ashley said, feeling stupid for being obscurely relieved.
Simply smiling, Magnolia pushed open the door. Color surrounded them as they came inside. Bright rag rugs carpeted the hardwood floor and rainbow-hued afghans draped the sofa and chairs. Along one wall, a fireplace waited, a multicolored runner on the mantel. Through the open door to her left, she could see half-finished crafts filling the master bedroom, and to her right, hand-painted mugs and bowls of every shade were stacked on the kitchen counter.
Without pausing, the woman led her past the kitchen and into a narrow hallway. From the bedroom at the end, Ashley could hear Peony chatting happily, her voice rarely interrupted by any response. Magnolia cast a frustrated glance down the hall, and then opened a door on her right, revealing a tiny bedroom.
A scrap quilt covered the twin bed and a short dresser sat beneath the window on the far wall. On the floor, a rag rug lay and when she stepped on it, Ashley could feel her feet sink.
“Bathroom is the second door on the left down the hall,” Magnolia told her. “We don’t usually turn on the generator, but if you’d like a hot shower later, just let me know. We can get the water heater going with no trouble. Blankets are in the closet next to the bathroom if you get cold, and if there’s anything else you need and can’t find, feel free to ask, okay?”
Ashley blinked. “Thank you.”
Magnolia smiled. “Our pleasure. And now if you’ll excuse me…” she glanced down the hall again, where Peony was launching into yet another story.
Ashley nodded and the woman disappeared. A moment later, she could hear Magnolia chastising the girl for keeping Samson awake and distracting the doctor.
She turned back to the room. If she stretched out her arms, her fingers would almost reach both walls. But the bed was soft when she sat down, and the blankets seemed like they’d be warm. Homemade curtains draped the window, letting in the late afternoon sunlight. She trailed her hands over the quilt and pillows, feeling as though it’d been a lifetime since she’d last slept on something other than a floor or van seat.
“Hey,” Spider said, leaning her head around the door.
Ashley flinched. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, lost in thoughts she couldn’t recall.
“How’s Samson?” she asked.
The girl paused. “Better. Blue’s still with him.”
Visibly resetting, Spider drew a short breath. “Look, dinner’s not for a couple hours and I don’t know about you, but those fruit cups from the van aren’t quite cutting it. You want to grab something?”
“Okay.”
Spider headed for the door, leaving Ashley to follow.
The main path curved along a slope till it ended at the doors of a multistory building that resembled an enormous version of the log cabins behind her. Massive windows arched over its covered entryway, and a broad green roof blended with the trees. Atop cracked stone stairs, double doors stood and, without hesitation, Spider tugged them open and continued inside.
Shadows surrounded them, broken only by the final bits of sunlight pushing through the windows overhead. A stage was set into the leftmost wall, the curtains closed over it, and a gallery circled the second floor to look down on the one below. In a corner, Ashley spotted Carter engrossed in quiet conversation with Jericho and several other men. They didn’t look up as she and Spider walked by.
Striding down the darkened hall, Spider pushed back the swinging metal door to the kitchen and then abruptly stopped. Coming up behind her, Ashley looked around, confused.
A large man bent over the oven and then drew out a tray of rolls. Turning, he moved to set them on a butcher’s table, when he caught sight of the two of them.
“What do you want?” he said, his tone only making a pretense at civility. He set the tray on the counter, glaring.
“Where’s Belle?” Spider asked.
“Home with a sick kid. You didn’t answer my question.”
Spider paused. Dropping her hand from the door, she stepped into the room. “My friend and I got in a bit ago. We’re just here for something to eat.”
By the doorway, Ashley didn’t move, immobilized by the sudden tension in the air.
“Dinner’s in two hours.”
“I know that,” Spider answered.
A moment passed, and then his mouth twisted into a mockery of a smile. “You all are just something, you know that?”
Spider didn’t respond, but her eyes stayed on him as she started toward the tray.
“I told you two hours!” he snapped, moving in front of the food when he saw where she was headed. “I swear, you and the rest just think you’re gods, don’t you? Expecting us to give you whatever you want.” He sneered. “Like I’m supposed to kowtow to you for getting innocent people killed.”
The girl paused. Ashley couldn’t see her breathing.
“But then, your kind don’t care who pays for the trouble you cause,” he said more quietly.
Slowly, Spider walked up to him till she was only inches away. Her hand reached around his wide bulk to come down on two of the rolls.
Despite his smirk, Ashley could see the man tremble.
Food in hand, Spider turned and strode back out the door, handing Ashley one of the rolls as she passed.
“Maybe now that your boyfriend’s dying, you’ll learn how to give a damn,” the man called.
Spider stopped. Everything about her became utterly motionless and suddenly, Ashley felt painfully aware of the guns she knew the girl was carrying.
And then Spider kept walking.
At the end of the hall, the girl turned sharply, heading away from the main entrance toward a side door.
“Where are you going?” she called to Spider uncomfortably.
“To shoot something.”
With an uncertain glance to the entrance, Ashley followed.
The keypad beside the door surrendered to Spider’s rapid jabs, and the stairway behind it emptied into a wide basement, the majority of which was taken up with an improvised firing range. Rags stitched into human silhouettes formed the targets at the far end, and desks that looked like they belonged in an office held stacks of ammunition. Taped to the walls, handwritten signs instructed everyone to use eye gear and earplugs, while piping and metal sheets formed booths where people could stand.
Dropping the roll on the table by the door, Spider strode to the nearest booth, yanked out one of her guns and then emptied it into the center of a target in rapid succession.
The girl exhaled slowly.
Lowering her hands from her ears, Ashley watched her. “You okay?”
Coldly, Spider glanced back, but after a heartbeat, her expressionless stare fractured into a faintly chagrinned smile. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.”
She set the gun on the ledge and took a breath, closing her eyes. Picking up the weapon again, she walked over to the table and pulled a box of bullets from the roughly organized piles.
“So we know you can fire a gun,”
Spider said, eyeing her askance with a touch of humor in her gaze. “How are you on aim?”
Ashley didn’t say anything.
“Okay,” Spider said as though she’d answered. She handed Ashley her gun, and then drew the other from the holster beneath her jacket. Checking the boxes again, she pushed one toward Ashley and then quickly showed her how to load the weapon.
“Keep it pointed down and away from you, me and everything, understand?” Spider told her. “And always assume it’s loaded. No matter what. Even if you know it’s not.”
Ashley nodded.
They crossed to the booths, where Spider continued her instruction, showing her how to hold the weapon and stand, and finally allowing her to fire at the targets after ensuring Ashley understood everything she’d said.
Her shots missed entirely.
“You’re milking it,” Spider said when Ashley pulled out her earplugs. “Hard grip, remember? In a fight, you’re going to be crushing that sucker, so get used to it now. Try again.”
Ashley glanced back at the table. “I don’t want to waste your bullets.”
“Blue reloads them for us when he’s not patching people up. It’s fine.”
Not really knowing what that meant, but taking the reassurance at face value, Ashley reloaded the weapon and then fired again.
A few shots hit the target.
She lowered the gun and then tugged the earplugs away, staring at the bullet holes in faint shock. It felt weird, knowing she’d just done that. Shot at something and had it work.
The memory of her father dying suddenly surged back. She set the weapon down sharply, hands trembling. A gun will kill a wizard…
And if she’d had one that night, it would have.
Her eyes found the target again.
“You alright?” Spider asked.
Distantly, she nodded, and then pushed the earplugs back in and fired. The gun clicked at her when the bullets were gone.
She glanced to Spider.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” the girl asked.
Ashley nodded again.
“Want to keep going?”
She shoved the earplugs back into place and then reloaded swiftly.
Two hours later, Spider called it quits and motioned Ashley away from the booth.
“Can you tell me what that man meant?” she asked the girl as Spider pulled open the drawer for earplugs and safety glasses.
Spider shook her head tiredly and tossed her gear inside. “He’s just an old coward. One who thinks killing ferals is what makes them attack us, and that everyone who stays out there and not here deserves their fate.”
Ashley wasn’t sure what to say. She set her safety glasses in the drawer, and then held out Spider’s gun.
“Keep it,” the girl said, her attention on the ammunition boxes.
Startled, Ashley’s brow furrowed.
“I’ve got others,” Spider said. “And it might’ve helped if you’d had one earlier. Though you did pretty good anyway.” She glanced over, amusement in her eyes. “Plus this way, wherever you end up, you can protect yourself. Even if it’s just from creeps like Wood.”
The girl went back to sorting through the boxes.
Ashley looked down. “Thanks,” she said quietly.
Spider shrugged.
Uncertainly, Ashley paused, wondering how to carry the weapon.
“Back of your jeans works in a pinch,” Spider said, her eyes still on the boxes in front of her. “We can get you a holster too, though.”
Hesitantly, Ashley reached around and tucked the weapon away.
Spider’s gaze flicked to her briefly and a small smile tugged at her lips. She shut the drawer and then pushed the boxes back into their stacks. “Come on,” she said, her expression taking on a sarcastic cast. “Dinner’s probably ready.”
They headed upstairs. Emergency lights provided the only illumination in the massive room, making the space surreal. Leading her deeper into the building, Spider wound through the darkened hallways, emerging finally into an empty sunroom overlooking a broad patio.
Bright against the darkness, a bonfire burned on the lawn, lighting the people seated on a ring of logs around the blaze and in a large pavilion to one side. Windows and glass doors separated her from the porch and festivities, and made the firelight waver strangely in the carpeted space. Beyond the bonfire, a river she hadn’t seen from the building’s other side shimmered with the flames and moonlight.
Spider pushed open a door, and then closed it after Ashley. Crossing the patio, the girl paused at the stairway, scanning the crowd.
“What?” Ashley asked.
“Blue’s not here.”
The girl’s brow furrowed. “Listen, I’m going to go check on Sam. Will you be alright?”
Ashley nodded. She didn’t have much choice. The alternative just made her feel ashamed, like some helpless person the others had to carry.
“Okay,” Spider said, still looking distracted. “See you later then.”
The girl jogged down the steps and then disappeared back up the path toward the houses. Ashley watched her go, nervous and hating herself for the feeling.
She made her way down the wide stairs to the lawn. People were hard to distinguish in the harsh firelight, though it would have helped if she’d known more than a handful of them anyway. The shifting crowd parted and she spotted Bus sitting on a log by the fire, a group of children surrounding him. Unbidden relief moved through her, and she worked to ignore it while still heading quickly toward the only person she recognized.
Bus was telling them a story, the gist of which she grasped only too easily. A feral was chasing him, intent on taking his life. In rapt horror, the children listened as he described the wizard’s crazed expression and the way it taunted him as it hounded him through the streets.
At the edge of the group, Ashley sank onto a log, trying not to interrupt. He’d run into the first store he’d seen, Bus told them. He’d just been trying to get away. But the store turned out to be a pet shop, and as he ran, he’d slammed headlong into a stack of cages, each of them filled to bursting with mice. The cages scattered, their tiny occupants flying to the four corners of the room. And as the wizard came in, even with his magic, he couldn’t hope to get past the crowds of people suddenly screaming and jumping as the furry terrors scurried up their pant legs.
The children erupted in laughter and questions, but at the sight of Ashley, Bus waved them off. “You need to get food before your parents eat it all,” he told them seriously, and at his words, most of the kids grinned and clambered up, rushing for the pavilion and the dinner waiting inside.
“Do you want me to bring you some?” Peony asked, still sitting beside him.
“How old do I look to you, kid?” he retorted indignantly. “You think I can’t fight those grownups off? It’s little things like you that got to worry. Now scoot!”
Giggling, Peony pushed off the log and ran after the others.
Once the little girl was gone, Bus winked at Ashley and motioned her closer. “So how you doing, Ashe-girl?”
She shrugged. “Is that story true?”
The old man affected a hurt expression. “You calling me a liar?”
Ashley shook her head and he smiled. “I might’ve embellished a bit,” he admitted. He glanced around. “So where’d Spider get off to?”
“She went to check on Samson.”
His eyebrows moved expressively. “Blue said it’ll be a while before he can walk again. And Spider’s really not going to like hearing that. Close as anything, those two. Been looking out for each other since he found her on the street when they were kids. Couple ferals had her cornered in an alley, but she’d already taken one of them with a shard of glass and her bare hands by the time Samson showed up and shot the other.”
Bus shook his head. “She’d pay money for it to be her in there rather than him, no questions asked.” The old man sighed, pushing the thoughts away. “So how’re you settling in?”
“Okay,” she said. “It’s nice here.”
He nodded amiably. “I always like it.”
“Did you guys build this place or something?”
“Nah,” he said, chuckling. “Bought it. Few decades back, it was some kind of resort. The company who owned it went belly up and, after the war started, Carter and most of the folks here pooled funds to get it, add the mobile homes and keep it all running.”
He paused. “You could probably stay, if you’d like.”
Surprised, she looked over at him.
The old man shrugged. “If you’d like,” he said again.
Uncomfortably, her gaze fell to the firelight on the grass. She’d avoided thinking about it. Couldn’t really in the midst of all the information she’d received over the past day. But things had changed after Spider told her the truth of what was going on. Yesterday, she’d been a girl whose family had been brutally killed. Today she was a wizard in a war, whose family had been brutally killed by monsters in whom no one but these people believed.
A wizard who, if the others learned the truth, would be cast back on the streets. Or shot. If she didn’t accidentally kill them all first.
Her gaze strayed to the people milling around the fire. Hastily finished with their meals, the children ran between clusters of talking adults, their rowdy play undercutting the quiet conversations. By the pavilion, she could see Magnolia, her gray-speckled brown hair slipping from the loose bun at her neck as she threw back her head in a happy laugh.
Ashley turned away. She didn’t know what to do. She wished things were different. That her family hadn’t been killed, or that she could’ve been a cripple like the others believed.
It might’ve been nice to stay.
“Ashe?”
Blinking, she pulled herself from the thoughts and glanced back to the old man, who was eyeing her curiously.
“Sorry,” she said. “Just… thinking.”
His brow furrowed. She cast around quickly for another subject to distract him.
The Children and the Blood Page 21