Alive Like Us

by Hallows, Quinn

  “Even if that were true, he would have never fallen if you’d open those precious gates for people like us.”

  “You mean thieves?” She gripped the handle of her axe and ripped it out. The Bone Boy screamed and fell to his side, hugging his wounded leg to his chest. “Don’t be stupid.”

  Snow crunched behind her. Sanna whirled around. Nico was standing within arm’s reach, rubbing his quickly bruising jaw. She hauled the Bone Boy onto his knees, pressing the axe to his neck. “Don’t come any closer.”

  “Wait,” Nico halted, his hands splayed in front of him. “We can talk this out. Zane was running his mouth, trying to scare you.”

  She glared down at Zane. “I’m terrified.”

  His skeletal lips curled into a hard grin. “You can’t run from all of us, little girl.”

  “Where are the others?” Sanna asked Nico. “Are they in front of us, or behind us?”

  “I-I don’t know.”

  Sanna pressed the axe deeper into the Bone Boy’s throat. A thin line of blood curved around his neck.

  “He’s telling the truth!” Zane shouted. “He’s been AWOL for a week.”

  Nico stepped closer. “The more I got to know you, the less I wanted to be part of this. I know you didn’t do anything to the boy. You’re too nice, even if you pretend you’re not.”

  Sanna clenched her teeth. “Stop lying.”

  “I’m telling the—look out!” Nico cried.

  Silver flashed at the edge of her vision, but it was too late. Pain ripped through her foot. She looked down and found a hunting knife stuck into the top of her boot. A dark stain spread at the base of it.

  “You weren’t supposed to hurt her!” Nico’s voice sounded muffled and far away.

  “Well, I’m not getting my head chopped off because you decided to play Prince Charming,” Zane roared.

  Sanna put space between them, each step sending another bolt of pain up her leg. The brilliant blue sky rushed towards her. Her thoughts unraveled as cool, slick sweat covered her skin. The agony seemed to spread throughout her body with each pump of her heart as if shards of glass were flowing through her veins. A fuzzy, crackling sound filled her ears. Nico grabbed hold of her wrist, his touch jerking her back to the present.

  “Get off me!” She wrenched her arm free.

  Cloth ripped. Zane must be bandaging his wound.

  “Listen!” Nico gripped her shoulder, shaking her. “There’ll be more of them. We have to get out of here. Now!”

  Sanna tore out of his grasp, her pulse racing. She heaved her axe to her shoulder, ready to swing if he got too close.

  “Careful, Lucas,” the Bone Boy warned. “Just because you haven’t been marked yet doesn’t mean Razor will let you go.”

  “Let me help you. Please,” Nico pleaded. He splayed his hands in a sign of surrender. “You don’t have a choice. A whole war party is on their way. You can’t fight them all.”

  “Why should I trust you?” Sanna gritted her teeth against the pain. “All you’ve done is lie.”

  Nico grabbed hold of the dagger and yanked it out before Sanna could protest. She cried out, her spine arching as fireworks of pain bursting inside her. Nico wasted no time, looping her rigid arm over his shoulder and dragging her deeper into the forest.

  “Razor will skin you for this, Nico,” The Bone Boy shouted after them, his voice echoing through the trees. “You can’t leave. No one can. You think I haven’t thought of it?”

  She licked her lips and tasted salt. They were moving far too slow. She tried to put pressure on her wounded foot and stumbled, pain sizzling up her leg. She gritted her teeth and tried again, grunting with effort. Eventually, their movements synced in an awkward, three-legged lope.

  A human howl reverberated through the trees.

  “They’ve found us. Sanna,” he turned to her, his russet brows drawn up, “No

  “matter what happens, I want you to know I never wanted you to be hurt.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have lied.” She hated the way her heart squeezed at his words. “Get me home, and we’ll call it even.”

  He frowned, sadness bracketing his mouth. “Deal.”

  Whatever softness she’d detected in him had completely vanished. It struck her that she understood just a fraction of what had happened in the clearing and that the person beside her was a complete stranger.

  A stranger who now held her life in his hands.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Nico glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve got company.”

  He was right. Four Bone Boys were gaining on them, gliding like shadows over the fallen trees and rocks.

  She gritted her teeth and pushed on. Branches scraped her face and snagged her hair as they crested another hill. Nico gasped as his foot slipped out beneath him. They fell backward, sliding down the ice-glazed slope. Dazed, Sanna stared at the graying sky. A fresh wave of pain washed over her.

  Nico helped her stand. “Keep moving.”

  They’d landed in a gorge, where boulders of different sizes surrounded them like forgotten tombstones. Their unexpected slide down the hill had gained them a few precious moments. Enough time to cover their tracks.

  She dug her good foot into the snow. “Wait.”

  Nico whipped around, sweat pouring from his brow. He was scared, too. “What? We don’t have time.”

  “We’re not fast enough. Cover our tracks.” Sanna grabbed a small pine bough and shoved it at him. “We can hide behind the rocks and let them pass, then take the trail to Erling.”

  Nico’s lips thinned. Sanna limped behind the largest boulder and sank. Warm blood soaked the leather of her boot, staining the snow. Holding her breath, she wrenched it off. Agony burned through her, then faded to a low, thrumming ache. Her gray sock was completely red. A wave of nausea washed over her as she unwound the scarf from her neck and wrapped her foot as tight as she could.

  Nico edged around the boulder, brushing away their tracks with a soft rustling sound. He tossed the branch into the forest and joined her, poised for attack. A flood of questions crowded her mind. Who was he? Why did he betray her? Was it really because of that poor kid?

  The answers would have to wait.

  Footsteps squeaked through the snow. The Bone Boys were making their way down the slope. She forced her breath to stay slow and even, despite the panic clawing her throat. She gripped her axe and unsheathed one of her daggers.

  A bear of a man led the group, his head tattooed into a rotting skull. He sniffed the air, his wide nostrils flaring and grinned. “They’re close. Slicer’s gonna get Lucas real good for running like this.”

  One of the Bone Boys peeled off, eyeing the swept snow. “They’ve covered their tracks.”

  Nico shifted. Sanna reached for him, but it was too late. A wave of gravel skittered down the hill.

  “Over there!” A Bone Boy pointed. “Behind that rock!”

  Nico shot up with a fierce cry. She followed his lead, ready to fight to the gory end...and froze.

  The Bone Boys stood before her, their painted mouths gaping and their kohl-rimmed eyes impossibly huge. Terror was etched into every rigid muscle. She knew she had a ruthless reputation, but no one had ever quit at the mere sight of her.

  Nico’s bow clattered to the ground. Time slowed to a crawl as he lifted a shaking hand to his neck. Ribbons of red seeped in between his fingers and trailed down his forearm. He fell to his knees, then sprawled onto his stomach. Five gashes had flayed his throat down to the vertebrae, severing his windpipe.

  Oh, God. The world around her darkened until all she saw was Nico’s shredded flesh. Infected.

  A wet cackle shattered the uneasy silence, followed by a low growl.

  The snow-draped trees closed in around her, hemming her in. Her skin prickled with awareness. They were out there, all right. Patient predators, stalking their prey.

  Just a single stage two could pick them off one by one, if it was clever. Two or more could lead to a full-on as
sault.

  “Close ranks! Close ranks!” Big Sam shouted. They formed a tight circle, their backs to each other and their weapons drawn.

  This wasn’t good. The Bone Boys might protect each other, but she was alone and injured. Vulnerable. She’d be the first to die.

  A throaty groan echoed in the trees, answered by a chorus of barks and whoops.

  “It’s a horde,” a Bone Boy whispered. His voice rose in panic. “A HORDE!” “Shut up!” Big Sam snapped.

  “We’re screwed,” a Bone Boy cried. “Why are there so many?”

  “I said shut up!”

  Sanna figured there were at least four Infected nearby. Maybe more. She’d sensed them earlier, but the crows and her own messy swirl of hope and frustration over Nico had clouded her judgment. Stupid, stupid.

  Her heart knocked in her chest. The Infected probably heard it.

  She edged closer to the Bone Boys, her back to them. Now that the true monsters were here, her enemies were more concerned with saving their own skins.

  A blur of movement whipped past her, stirring the fine hairs of her temple. It snatched one of the Bone Boys, leaving behind nothing but his scream. It ricocheted in her skull for an endless minute, though the silence that followed was far more deafening.

  “They’re too fast,” someone cried.

  “Quiet,” Big Sam whispered. “Or I’ll gut you myself.”

  Snowflakes began drifting down in a thick white curtain. The sight of it struck her. A horde shouldn’t gather in this cold. She’d have to tell Raj—they’d need to start reinforcing walls, setting strict curfews. This changed everything.

  A stage one slipped out from behind the pines, naked and pale. Blood dripped onto the snow from his overgrown fingernails. His face was sallow, rawboned, and covered in a gruesome lace of bulging, black veins. He glared at Sanna, his eyes radiant with madness, and his chapped lips peeled into a menacing smile. His gums had receded, and long, pointed teeth crowded his mouth.

  Six more materialized from the forest and flanked him.

  “I’ll see you on the other side, brothers!” Big Sam bellowed.

  Sanna wondered why the horde hadn’t just fallen on Nico’s body in a feeding frenzy. Perhaps they knew there wasn’t enough to share. If she could distract them, everyone would have a chance to escape.

  She whirled around and buried her axe into Big Sam’s shoulder. Blood gushed onto her face as she grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him toward the stage ones.

  The monsters were on him before he even hit the ground, his screams high and desperate.

  Sanna glanced behind her, ready to strike if someone decided to avenge their leader. They stared back at her, shocked.

  “What are you waiting for?” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Run.”

  Her words must have jolted them from their stupor. They took off. Some dropped their weapons, others launched themselves forward by pulling their brothers behind. They dissolved in the distance like ghosts in sunlight.

  Sanna raced in the opposite direction towards the trail. Her body felt old and numb, as if a great anchor was pulling her down. She had to keep going. Had to keep moving. The deep snow might as well be quicksand, pulling at her limbs with greedy fingers. Branches whipped across her face, tearing at her skin.

  The wet, loud crack of bones echoed through the forest. The Infected were nearly done with their meal.

  She fought back a sudden sob and kept running, catching her breath at the top of the next ridge. The small gorge behind her teemed with even more Infected, far more than she would have ever guessed were in the area. Where did they come from? How were so many of them functioning in below-freezing temperatures?

  A female stage one caught Sanna’s gaze and snarled, her sallow face smeared with crimson.

  Sanna bolted down the hill. The scarf she’d wrapped around her injured foot had turned into a blood-soaked brick. The wind blasted her face from across the lake, whipping the snow and ice into a haze that pierced her skin. Ahead, Erling’s red flags flapped in the wind, promising refuge to all who could make it to the safety of the Kill Zone.

  She was close. So close.

  She imagined the Infecteds’ blood-soaked claws reaching for her, their ravenous mouths gaping open. Three were trailing her, loping on all fours, their bodies twisted and deformed by the virus.

  The snow was up to her knees now, slowing her pace. She leapt through it, fast as her injured foot would allow. Her legs were wobbly, her breath ragged. She clenched her teeth. She had to keep going, one foot in front of the other.

  A figure appeared near the flag before her, partially obscured by the billowing red fabric. Small, like a child. She blinked, and it was gone. Her mind had to be playing tricks—what would a child be doing in the Deadlands?

  “Shelter!” she cried, passing into the Kill Zone. Her hair whipped across her face. “Shelter!”

  A cruel laugh floated on the wind, chilling her blood.

  “Who’s there?” Sanna scanned the barren landscape. “Show yourself!”

  Shouts echoed in the wind. Erling’s guards raced across the expanse, their piecemeal armor clanking. They seemed like dark ants scurrying across a desert of winter white.

  “It’s Sanna!” A familiar voice bellowed as the figures drew closer. Raj. Her captain, and Erling’s second-in-command.

  Something pounced on her, shoving her to the ground. Her forehead banged against a stone hidden beneath the snow. A ribbon of blood trickled down her temple. She struggled up to face her assailant but saw only whiteness.

  Sanna. Sanna. Sssssannnnnnaaaaa. A creepy, singsong voice slithered into her mind, making her skin crawl and her stomach twist. She pressed her fingers to her temples, doubling over. What a strange thing you are.

  She felt sick. Invaded. Her arms and legs grew heavy, as her muscles suddenly turned to lead. Her knees softened, wanting to buckle as she tried to force herself to stand, to move, to fight. Nothing happened. It was as if the connection between her brain and her body had been severed. Her grip on her axe loosened and the weapon sank into the snow. Useless.

  Her panic morphed into terror. Why couldn’t she move?

  I might as well finish you off while I’m here.

  Sanna winced, the strange voice making her head throb while her body remained frozen.

  Familiar voices, half lost on the wind, grew louder with each passing second. The rescue party.

  Sanna tried to warn them to stay back—whatever was out here was too powerful, too dangerous—but her jaw remained locked and her voice withered to the barest whisper.

  An arrow whistled past her ear, ruffling through her hair before it disappeared into the whiteout. Thud. It hit something.

  She had to move. To fight.

  The voice laughed inside her, so loud that she thought her skull would split open.

  A dark shadow began to take shape a few feet ahead, shambling closer. A stage one, an arrow sticking out of her shoulder, with yellow eyes glowing like banked coals behind a skein of greasy red hair. A thick, chunky sweater and filthy canvas pants hung on her skeletal frame. Black blood oozed from a wound on her forearm the size of a mouth.

  A barrage of arrows whizzed past Sanna. The stage one jerked in a macabre dance and sank onto her side. A soldier surged forward and sliced off her head in a single swipe.

  Warmth rushed through Sanna’s body, followed by the throbbing ache of her foot. The voice and its strange hold on her had vanished, leaving her hollow. Weak. Darkness slipped over her as a cruel laugh echoed in her skull.

  I’m coming for you Sanna. And next time, I won’t let you go.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Twig gasped awake and found himself suspended in pure white. Was he dead? No, his body was cold. It was that blasted snow. He was buried in it.

  He dug his way out, bursting through the frozen crust. It was far deeper than he remembered and the branches of the pine tree above him bowed with the weight of it. It must be morning. The sky was a
smooth, dull pewter and the sun a silvery coin hanging in the east.

  His shirt was stiff. Hard. The front was stained with black blood, long since frozen. He peered beneath the fabric and found the many sutures holding his skin together were oozing blood.

  Awareness flooded back to his body, pricking his flesh. He crunched the fabric in his fist as agony from the wounds followed.

  After his brethren had freed him from the tree, he'd melded with them, using their eyes as his own as they scoured the forest for that cow who’d escaped his chains. He’d found that strange girl instead. Sanna. He’d zeroed in on her, embodying one of the Infected hounding her across a frozen wasteland, and immediately felt the pull she had on him. The stage one was hungry—as they always were—but it wanted this girl specifically. Twig got the feeling it would climb over a million other corpses to reach her.

  Why? What made her so special? Twig didn’t understand it, which filled him with such an intense loathing that he’d wanted nothing more than to rip out the girl’s throat right then and there. He could have, if not for those pesky soldiers. The blizzard had masked their presence until it was almost too late. He hadn’t even had a chance to study the area for landmarks. The snow had been so thick, obscuring everything behind a skein of white.

  Was this Sanna creature the demon he was looking for? Could she be the one destroying all the crusaders? She seemed young. Weak. But Omegas were ageless and good at hiding their powers when needed. Either way, she was a threat.

  Her village had to be close. His psychic control over the Infected was limited to a few measly miles. He had to find her. Destroy her.

  Twig tugged his hood up and hunched his shoulders against the cold. He slogged through the snow, careful to keep his senses open as he quietly summoned the cursed ones sleeping under the snow around him.