Odium II: The Dead Saga

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Odium II: The Dead Saga Page 6

by Claire C. Riley


  “It’s pretty dead. I don’t think we need to worry for a while.” Mikey pulls out a knife and begins to skin what I can now see is a rabbit.

  I look at Emily, trying to contain another giggle. “Pretty dead out there, huh?” I ask.

  Mikey looks up at me. “Yeah, that’s what I sa—” He grins as realization dawns on him. “Very funny.”

  “Mikey made a joke.” I push Emily in the shoulder, making her laugh.

  “The ice man thaws.” Alek joins in with a chuckle of his own.

  “It wasn’t intentional. It was a slip of the tongue.” Mikey shrugs, but his grin remains.

  “Slip of the dead tongue, you mean!” Alek laughs loudly.

  We all continue to laugh, something between us all finally melting away. My body is still sore and bruised, my mind weary from stress and worry, but with the laughter comes a sense of relief, a possible belief that yes, we might be okay after all.

  Alek and Emily are focusing on getting the fire going and I feel like a spare tire, so I turn to Mikey as the laughter dies away. “You want some help with that?” I nod toward the dead rabbit, hoping he’ll say no since it looks like an insanely disgusting job.

  “Nah, I’m good, thanks.” He looks up from his task with a shy smile and then back down to his knife. I internally cheer.

  The tip of his knife has made deep scores around the rabbit’s back ankles, and as I watch, he drags the knife up the back of each one of its legs. His hand begins to pull on the fur, slipping it away from the meat of the animal. I should feel sick, but truth be told, I’m just damn hungry. My body has no idea what is going on; it’s gone from starvation to regular hot wholesome food and back to hungry again in a matter of weeks.

  “That’s disgusting,” Emily says, putting a hand to her nose.

  Alek laughs and pulls her to his side. “You’re such a girl, Em,” he teases with a grin.

  The flames from the fire have taken hold and cast an orange glow on their faces. It’s both romantic and concerning. What future can they possibly have together? Is companionship enough now? Because surely, in the distant future—the far distant future—they would have wanted children. But who in their right mind would bring children into this hellhole? Jesus, why am I even thinking about them having children? She’s fifteen—or was it sixteen? Shit, she’ll be turning seventeen this year. Either way, she’s way too young for all of this. I look at them again. She’s a young woman in her head, but in the old world she’s still a child—at least in my head—and the time is going to come to have that talk with her. I guess I should be grateful that she picked someone similar in age to her; he’s a kid himself, though you wouldn’t think it to look at him.

  The sight makes my heart pang. I look back to Mikey, noticing that he’s watching them both also. He notices my stare and continues with his rabbit skinning business by pinching its little ass to find the tailbone jutting out. He cuts through the small bone with his knife and I grimace when it falls to the small plastic bag he’s laid out underneath. There’s surprisingly little blood, but then I realize that he probably cut its throat and let it drain out on the walk back.

  I glance down out of our cave nervously.

  “What is it?” Mikey’s voice breaks through my panic.

  “The blood—won’t it attract the deaders?”

  He shakes his head, his hand stripping the rabbit of its fur. “No. I drained it where I caught it, and then covered it with mud. I’m hoping that will mask the scent, but let’s be extra vigilant just in case.” He takes his knife and plunges it into the back of the rabbit’s neck, severing the furry little head from its raw, pink body. A little blood leaks out, making my face pinch up in disgust.

  “I feel sick,” Emily grunts and stands up, going further into the cave. “I can’t sit and watch that.”

  I nod in agreement. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll stick around for the gutting part.” I stand and go inside with Emily, leaving the two men to chuckle to themselves. My brain wants me to stick around, learn, and become totally self-sufficient, but my stomach is saying hell no, let the man do the grunt work. I have to agree with it on this occasion, even if I’m being sexist.

  I sit down with Emily and she looks at me cautiously. “So?”

  “So?” I start. “How long did you have that little great escape planned?”

  “Month or so.” She shrugs like it was no big deal, but she can’t hide the small raise of her mouth. “The hardest part was not letting you give up hope, and helping you get your strength back—otherwise you would never have made the trek across the plains.”

  I nod and glance to Mikey. “He seems…broken. I think it was him that needed your help with not giving up hope,” I say quietly.

  “He never gave up. His only thought was to save you—and me, of course, but you were his hope. The only thing that gave him hope. When you said that you hated him, when you called him a murderer, it killed him.”

  I look at her and know that she’s serious, and I feel like shit that…well, I gave him shit for killing those people. Though I can’t condone what he did, and I would have gladly died to protect all those innocents, I can’t really blame him either. What would I have done to protect Emily? Pretty much anything.

  I shake my head sadly. “Don’t put that kind of responsibility on my shoulders, Em. That’s not fair.”

  She reaches out a pale hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t want you to feel bad. You had no idea what was happening, and I don’t blame you for saying those things—for hating him—but know that he was doing everything he could to protect you, me, and as many people as he could. In the end it came to a head and he had no choice but to do it.” She swallows. “It was you and me or those people. He chose us.”

  I take a deep breath, feeling both awful and relieved at the same time. I decided at some point when we were traveling across the land yesterday that my vengeance can suck it. All I want to do is get as far away from this place and those people as possible. “I want to put it all behind us. We can keep moving, keep going until we’re far enough away that they won’t ever find us again.”

  “No.” Emily looks at me, confused. “We have to stop them,” she snaps.

  “No, we have to get away from here,” I snap back.

  Emily stands and I counter her stance with my own, adding an eyebrow lift full of attitude to it for extra effect.

  “Mikey!” Emily shouts.

  My eyes widen. No way is she playing the ‘I’m telling' card!

  Mikey looks at us and when he sees our little spat he comes over, wiping his bloodied hands on a rag. “What’s up?”

  “Nina says we have to run—hide! That we can’t go back and kill the Forgotten.” Emily keeps her gaze trained on me while she speaks.

  “Oh please, I’m the queen of evil glares. Pack that shit in right now, Emily.” I look at Mikey, wondering why the hell he would condone this sort of thinking from her. “Yeah, Mikey, I say we run for our lives, what say you?” I snark as bitchily as possible through narrowed eyes, daring him to disagree.

  Mikey rubs a hand across his head, the dark brown hair giving a thin layer of cover to his once shiny bald head. “I agree with Nina. If she wants to run, we run. It might be safer for all of us, and for others too.”

  “But…” Emily interrupts.

  “No, Emily. Think about it: if Fallon and the rest of them can’t find me, then they can’t force me to do anything. We don’t have the backup or the firepower to go up against them. So as much as I would like to kill them, let’s cut our losses and go. Just get the hell out of here before they find us and take us back.”

  Emily’s eyes tear up. “I want revenge,” she hisses out, fury lining her face. It makes me shiver and drop my pissy attitude.

  “We all do, Em.” Alek reaches a hand out to her but she backs away.

  “You have no idea what I went through while they had you, Nina,” she sobs angrily, ignoring the comfort Alek is trying to give her while she stares me down. “Ho
w much it pained me wondering what was happening to you, the constant worry if you were going to come back alive.”

  Typical fucking teenager: it’s all about them. “What you went through? Are you fucking kidding me?” I yell.

  “No, I’m not. It was hell, Nina,” she shouts.

  I grab her by the scruff of her neck and push her up against the wall before she can say or do anything, my face inches from hers. Mikey and Alek shout at me and try to drag me off her, but I’m seriously pissed—and there ain’t no stopping a pissed off woman. Just ask your husband.

  “Look here, little girl.” I point to the scar on my face. “I’m sure as shit that that wasn’t pretty to watch happen, but can you imagine what it felt like for me? Just for one minute take your head out of your ass and think about someone other than yourself. It was me they beat, tortured and raped. It was me—not you. So don’t turn my misery into yours.” I let go of her and storm away, turning back to add coldly, “This is my fucking misery, and I’m keeping it for myself.”

  Chapter 8

  I climb down the side of the cliff, anger burning through my muscles. I need to get away from them all, get some space. Once again, I’ve found myself trapped with a group of people, with no way out. I can’t breathe. I drop the last foot to the ground and storm off, praying for a couple of deaders to shamble on by so I can gut them like the evil monsters they are.

  I stomp harder, jumping from rock to rock until the plains flatten out again, annoyed at myself for losing my cool but more annoyed for being so aggressive toward her. Jesus. If nothing else, I’ve learned that violence gets us nowhere.

  A bubble of laughter bursts from my throat. Who am I kidding? Violence gets us everywhere. Look at the Forgotten, look at the leaders behind the walls—hell, look at the fucking deaders! Every one of them uses violence to get their own way, and it works: they’re all surviving. None of them are being physically beaten, mentally destroyed.

  I stop and sit, bringing my knees up to my chest as I cry angry, painful tears until my throat hurts. The rage is still burning, but I’m left tired and weak when Mikey comes to find me.

  “Nina?”

  “What?” I don’t bother to look up, but continue to stare across the soaked landscape. It’s started to rain again, and a cold breeze blows, sending shivers through me.

  “Come back. Come and get warm.”

  “I’m fine,” I reply tersely.

  He sits down next to me, his body closer than I want. I shuffle to the side, away from him.

  “Don’t do that. Please,” he whispers.

  I finally turn to look at him. His eyes are so full of hurt and despair, nothing like that man I first met. His hair is getting thicker, giving him a softer, less rugged look. But his body seems bigger, as if he’s bulked up in the months that I was gone. Or maybe it’s that I’m so small now, having lost so much weight and muscle. I had started to pile some meat back on my bones when Emily was bringing me food every day, but out here food will be scarce again. I’m not nearly as mentally or physically prepared for it as I need to be.

  His hand reaches out to touch me and I instinctively start to pull back but stop myself. I take a deep breath, the rain getting heavier, falling over us in sheets of ice. His dark lashes are heavy with rain; it trickles across his cheeks, making small scars visible to me.

  I reach out and trace one of them. “What did they do to you?”

  He leans into my hand, his eyes never leaving mine. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He closes his eyes, and when he opens them up and looks at me I see the raw pain there again, shining through like a beam of light. “It’s what they did to you that killed me.”

  I throw my arms around him unexpectedly and he welcomes me with a squeeze, his mouth tracing my neck as he kisses along it. “I’m so sorry, Nina,” he whispers into me.

  “We’ve already been through this. You don’t need to apologize.” I pull out of our hug and look at him. “I’m sorry I lost it back there. I shouldn’t have done that. I love that girl, I really do, but sometimes,” I make a strangle impression in the air, “I could…you know?”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, I know.”

  “Mikey, I’m scared. I’m scared for us, I’m scared for her. Words like that should never be coming out of her mouth. Kill? What the hell is that all about? Of course I want those bastards dead, too, but she’s a child—a young woman.”

  “Nina, it may be time for you to admit that maybe Emily isn’t a kid anymore. She’s growing up.” He shrugs apologetically.

  “Whatever, we’re free now, away from them. I don’t want to go back there.”

  He stands and holds a hand down to me, pulling me up to my feet. “So, we won’t. We’ll keep going, keep hiding. We’ll travel further away, somewhere they can’t follow. I’ve done it before, I can do it again. Hell, I’ll leave you all and go back to them if you want. You’ll all be safe without me with you.”

  “Don’t be stupid. You’re not going anywhere,” I snap.

  We travel back to our cave, finding it much more difficult now that everywhere is slippy. Even my Doc Martens don’t seem to be able to find a decent grip on these rocks. On the way back I think of all the friends we’ve lost to get to this point: good people—and bad, but mostly good. Lives lost because of the selfish greed of others. Lives lost because of the bloodlust for revenge. Poor Josie and Britta. They survived so much, but in the end they died anyway. They were noble deaths, saving the lives of those they cared about. And JD—Jesus, he did everything he could to rescue us, to make his death mean something. Those deaders surrounded him and he still fought with everything that he had, even though he must have known it was pointless.

  I look up at the opening to our little cave with a heavy heart.

  “Need a boost?” Mikey asks, coming alongside me.

  I shake my head. “No, I’ll be fine.”

  He nods and continues to wait for me to climb, but I stay on the ground, trying to think of what to say to Emily.

  “I need to apologize to her.” I say wearily.

  “Probably.” He shrugs.

  “There’s no probably about it. I do. It must have been hard for her, and she’s young and still trying to process her emotions. I should know better than to mouth off like that.” I roll my eyes, more at myself than anything else. “Why are you being so damn reasonable? This is your opportunity to tell me I was wrong.” I frown.

  “Because after what you went through, you deserve to be angry at someone. It’s not Emily’s fault, but she knows you care about her, that you don’t mean it, and if lashing out like that heals you a little, then do it. Maybe do it to me next time, though.”

  I frown deeper, my wet clothes sticking to my sodden body. “After what I went through?”

  “Yeah.” He nods and then looks sheepish.

  “How do you know what I went through?” I snarl.

  Mikey pales, which for a Hispanic is impressive. “They made me watch.” The sound of the rain nearly washes away his words, he says them that quietly. My eyes go wide. I think of the pain and humiliation they put me through, how I begged and pleaded, and then I think of Mikey having to watch it all—every degrading, brutal attack. My heart stops in my chest, and I know now why he killed those people, why the pain and torture stopped. Hell, I even know why they started it in the first place. It was clear in the car when we talked yesterday, but today every piece of the very twisted jigsaw fits together snugly.

  I don’t know what to say to him. What can I say? I’m sorry? You asshole? Don’t pity me? Fuck, I wanted to forget about it all, but I know now that I can’t. Because another person knows what they did to me. He slaughtered innocent people to stop the torture of me. No wonder a piece of him has died. No fucking wonder the sparkle has left his eye. Christ, how could I have not seen this before?

  My mouth opens to speak but I close it again, still coming up lost for what to say.

  Mikey puts a finger to my lips. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have s
aid anything—I mean, I never meant to.” He rubs a hand across the back of his neck.

  “Are you guys coming up or what? I’m starving,” Emily shouts down to us.

  I look up, getting a face full of rainwater for my efforts. “Keep your panties on, we’re coming,” I snark.

  I tug Mikey’s hand without saying another word, still trying to process his words, and together we climb up. Once back inside the cave I head over to Emily to apologize.

  “Em? I’m sorry.” I huff out my apology, embarrassed at having to apologize. I mean, no one likes to admit they were wrong, do they? Not that I was totally to blame—her remarks were insensitive, to say the least. But whatever, we’re all tired, stressed, and hungry. More importantly, though, we’re free—and that’s more important than anything.

  I touch her shoulder gently and she turns to me with those big doe eyes of hers, her bottom lip quivering.

  “Aah, crap, don’t do that. No fucking crying, I don’t want to cry anymore. I’m sorry that I shouted.” It’s times like these that I wished I smoked so I had something to do with my hands.

  Emily nods, a clear tear dripping from her eye before she wipes it away and she takes a deep breath to control herself. “I’m sorry too.” She glances at Alek and then back to me. “Of course it was harder on you, and I should have thought about that. I want them to pay, but you’re right, you’re all right, we should run, hide. Mikey didn’t run far enough before, but we will this time, all of us—together.”

  I smile and hug her before whispering in her ear, “Thank you.” I look at Alek while I do. He smiles and looks away, heading off to help Mikey. And once again I’m struck by his confidence and maturity. He’s only young himself, but mentally he’s a full-grown man and he’s undeniably strong. It makes me wonder how he got like that.

  *

  We sit around the small fire, shaking—well, Mikey and I are shaking, since we’re sitting in our underwear with a small blanket wrapped around each of us. The rest of our clothes are drying out.

 

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