Untamed Series, #1

by Madeline Dyer

  Then I remember. His mother lost her arm. It went gangrenous. When I was little, I thought it had just fallen off one day, and I was terrified it would happen to me.

  “The tape needs changing too,” Corin says. His tone is brisk and efficient; his voice louder and harder than his soft whisper back in the car.

  He flicks his head in a follow me motion, and I follow him wordlessly to the narrow stream. I look up at Corin as we stop, and he glances away quickly. He must be thinking of what I did in the pharmacy. I can barely look at him as he takes my arm and unwraps the brandy-soaked scraps of cloth and tape from it.

  His touch is gentle but firm. After tugging harder at the end of the cloth, which had blended into the sticky mess that is my flesh, he looks at me. I can’t meet his eyes.

  “Sorry.” But his voice isn’t tender. He throws the bloody strips of cloth on the ground, near the edge of the stream. “It needs washing.” He holds onto my elbow as he guides me to the water’s edge.

  I try not to cry out as he splashes cold water over my shoulder. The wound sizzles, burning. I take a deep breath, grit my teeth, and stare over Corin’s shoulder. The sky’s darkening, but the space around me isn’t dark. I frown, it’s like there’s another light source other than the moon and the stars. I turn—though Corin still holds onto my arm—and look around. There isn’t another light. Behind me, it’s even lighter. Yet the sky is still dark.

  Evil spirits? It’s the first thought that enters my mind, then I look closer at the sky. It’s inky black.

  “Corin,” I say, and I use my good arm to point at the sky.

  He doesn’t answer.

  I look back at him. He’s not there.

  “Corin?” I can still feel his grip on my arm. But he’s not here. “Corin?”

  I turn. Suddenly, it’s daylight. Harsh, artificial daylight. Yet the sky’s still dark—swirling purples and inky blacks.

  “Corin?” My voice is even smaller. The wind picks up around me, whistling through trees that aren’t there. I hear a click behind me. I turn.

  A scream escapes my lips. A flash of metal. A gun is in his hand. I try to look around, but can’t look away from the Luger. Don’t want to look up at him; don’t want to see his face. Don’t want to see him.

  “Any final words, Sev?” His voice twists into a gnarled mess.

  I’m too petrified to speak. My heart slams against my ribs. My shoulder drips. Cold sweat lines my back, trickling down my spine, pulling at my shirt.

  He’s standing too close—how did he get here? He disappeared, and yet he’s here…and the gun. So close. A lump forms in the back of my throat. I’m going to be sick. My throat is raw. No, everything is raw. My mouth, my eyes, my head, my hip, my shoulder….

  “No?” Corin raises his dark eyebrows, and a glint of amusement appears in those dark brown spheres. A perfect droplet of sweat glistens from his forehead, then slowly moves down toward his bristly eyebrow where it gets caught. “No last words?”

  I can hardly breathe, my chest’s frozen. My lungs won’t work. The soles of my shoes are too thin. Sharp points dig into my feet. I look up toward the sky; I see the bison. I jump.

  What? This is a vision? So this isn’t real now. But this could actually happen? The imminent future?

  Whenever the bison speaks to you, you pay attention, my father’s words, one of the last things I heard him say. You’ve been chosen as a Seer for a reason. The future speaks to you. You must not ignore it.

  “I am sorry.” Corin takes a step forward, and something under his foot crunches. I can’t look away from him, but he’s growing dimmer. He’s just a shadow. A huge shadow-shape. “This is the only way to preserve our people, to maintain our purity,” he says. “You know it really, Sev. Deep down, you know I’m right. I’m always right when it comes to our people—my people.”

  He’s looking straight at me, straight at my pocket where the Calmness is. His stare gets more intense; the glass vial will explode.

  He knows. He can’t know. But he knows.

  “How did you think you could hide it from us?” His voice is full of betrayal. “It was inevitable that I’d find out. I always find out in the end. Of course I’d find out.” His grip on the gun tightens, and he raises it until it’s in line with my forehead. “I like you, Sev. But there’s no choice now. I’m sorry, I really am.”

  My mouth dries, and I squeeze my eyes shut half a second before Corin pulls the trigger.

  I jerk awake gasping for breath, bathed in a cold sweat. It’s still dark, and I can make out the rough shapes of my companions. They’re all still asleep; their breathing’s soft and smooth. Even Corin’s. I check twice.

  I sit up a little straighter, ignoring my throbbing shoulder, and try to quiet my racing heart.

  Breathe, I tell myself. I count my breaths. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Just breathe.

  It was inevitable that I’d find out.

  I yank my head toward Corin. He’s still out of it. I take another deep breath, then let the air out slowly. I touch my forehead with my good hand. My fingers feel cold against my hot, sweating skin. It’s just my imagination. It’s what scares me. A powerful fear in my subconscious. It’s not real. He won’t find out.

  But he will.

  I know he will. I’m a Seer, and that’s what the Dream Land showed me. It was a warning. They’re going to find out. They’re going to kill me.

  I gulp. What if I change the future? They don’t need to know about the Seeing dream or the Calmness—they haven’t found it yet, and they can’t find it if I throw the augmenter away. I’ll dispose of the augmenter, I will.

  I shut my eyes. Sleep. That’s what I need. But the vial under my waistband feels too hot against my cool skin. And its temperature’s still rising. The glass is burning me. I need to get the augmenter away from my skin—it was better where it was in the Seeing dream, in my pocket.

  I exhale loudly. I need to throw the augmenter away, yet I know what will happen if I look at the vial. I can feel the draw of the Calmness already. I can’t let that happen.

  Think of Finn’s body. Kayden’s. Think of all the people they’ve killed.

  I do. I let their faces fill my mind, until they’re swarming everywhere. But they don’t override the burning glass of the augmenter against my hip, or how my heart quickens as I let my mouth salivate.

  Ignore it. Dispose of it, when you’re stronger.

  Yes.

  It’s safer that way. I nod. It is safer. A lot safer. If I ignore it, I can’t take it. And then no one will see it. Corin won’t see it. I won’t be betraying anyone then.

  But you’ve already betrayed them.

  “Did you actually get any sleep? You look awful.” Three corners me as we’re refilling the water sacks in the small creek.

  There isn’t a lot of water flowing now, and we’re both stooping low. We’re in the exact same place where Corin shot me last night. Only he didn’t. It wasn’t real. The moment we got up, I looked at Corin somewhat fearfully. I wondered if he knew. But his manner was as condescending as always.

  “Seven?” Three comes to a stop in front of me.

  “Yeah? Oh. Not a lot of sleep.”

  Three shakes his head at me in a sad way. “You don’t need to worry,” he says. “It’ll all be fine. There’s no need to worry about anything.”

  If only he knew. And I don’t know how he can say that. He must know it’s a lie. I’m not a little child; he shouldn’t lie to me.

  The moment we get back to the vehicle with the water-filled skins, Rahn says we need to leave immediately. It’s still early; the sun’s been up for half an hour or so.

  “Put the rest in the back,” Rahn says after he has taken one of the pouches from Three and thrown it into the footwell of the front passenger seat.

  I go to the boot of the car. It is already open—Esther had been rearranging the food packages only a few minutes ago, trying to keep them away from the fuel cans.

  There’s
a space to the left of the food packages, where the water will fit nicely. I put two of the sacks there—they’re not big sacks at all—but there’s a box in the way, toward the back. Putting down the third skin on the tailgate, I lean forward, then use my good arm to shift the box over. Something jingles inside it, making a tinkling noise. It’s that same small wooden box, with ornate wooden carvings, that Rahn’s had since we left the village.

  I slide the third water sack into the space where the box was, then lean forward to put the box back. My fingers rest on the fine wood—is it mahogany?—and my curiosity surges. What is in it? I run my fingers over the carvings—I still can’t tell whether they’re just patterns, or animals, dogs, horses, cattle, or spirits. My vision blurs as I stare at the markings, and—

  “What the hell are you doin’?”

  I turn sharply, knocking pain through my shoulder, to see Rahn. He’s standing behind me, and the early sun’s glare glints off his dark glasses.

  “The—the water.” I point at the sack.

  Rahn glares at me. He tilts his head to one side. “That is a spirit box. It is not to be opened, tampered with, or examined. At any time,” he says, his voice clipping each word short. “Do you understand?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  Spirit boxes are rare; I didn’t even know Rahn had one—though, I’d known he’d had the box, I hadn’t realized what it was. Spirit boxes are dangerous. Very dangerous. My mother’s sister had one when she was younger. The spirits inside it killed her. Too much dangerous stuff in this world.

  “Get inside,” Rahn says.

  I run and jump into the back seat, ignoring my throbbing shoulder. Three’s already there, and he regards me with a troubled expression. I look away.

  “I’ve never been this far from home before.”

  Esther’s voice breaks into my sleepiness, like a nail tearing at dead skin, digging deeper to find fresher material that it can gouge apart.

  “It’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

  Rubbing my face, I sit up a little straighter and look out the window. It takes a few seconds for my eyes to focus, and, when they eventually do, I raise my eyebrows slightly. Beautiful? The sunset over the desert, casting warm colors across the sand in a magical light that bakes your sun-kissed skin is beautiful. This isn’t. This is colder, and…well…it’s green. Very green. There’s actually grass everywhere. Trees. Shrubs. It’s just all, well, green. Like that time I was in the Dream Land. I shudder, trying not to remember it.

  On the horizon, I make out a city’s outline. The Enhanced aren’t far away—they never are. My stomach churns. My skin tingles. I still haven’t got rid of the augmenter; it weighs on me like a bad omen.

  Rahn presses on the brake, and the car slows down. I see him look across at Corin in the passenger seat.

  “You think there are any Untamed in the woods?” he asks, jerking his head to the right where a huge forest stretches out.

  “Anyone’s guess,” Corin says. “It might be worth checking it out. It’s a good distance away from the Enhanced, but not too far away in terms of getting resources.”

  “Good. We need to find others soon. Safety is in numbers.” Rahn turns the vehicle off the dirt road and onto the grass, then he looks at me in the rear-view mirror. “You had a warnin’ about this?”

  “No.”

  The terrier stretches across my feet and raises his head slightly.

  “She’d tell you if she had,” Three cuts in. He doesn’t try to hide the look of annoyance on his face. “Seven’s the most trustworthy person I know. You don’t need to ask.”

  I look out the window, turning my back on all of them. The Calmness—now in my shorts pocket—feels hotter.

  “Everyone has secrets,” Corin says. “Stuff they want to hide.”

  I try not to inhale, but I hear the way my breath makes a squealing noise against my front teeth, and I flinch. I turn slowly, lifting my head higher. Corin’s not looking at me. I take a deep breath. No, he can’t know. He just can’t. It’s that dream I had, it’s making me read more into everything. Only it wasn’t just a dream. It was a Seeing dream. It was warning me to throw the Calmness away before it’s too late. Before they find out. Before they kill me.

  But what if they don’t return from a raid one day? You’ll be left on your own. All alone. You’ll need the Calmness then.

  Pushing the thought away, I concentrate on the green terrain. I grip the side of the door as Rahn jerks the vehicle onto uneven ground. He drives through the trees, round and round, over the bumpiest and wettest of grounds, for an hour and a half.

  “There’s no one here,” Rahn announces some time later.

  I raise my eyebrows. If anyone was driving a strange vehicle through my land, I’d make sure they couldn’t see me. It’s common sense.

  “We’ll just raid the town over yonder—I think it’s New Repliza, there aren’t many towns or cities here, but I’m not sure. Then we’ll keep goin’, south, but skirtin’ ’round a little if we need to.” He swings the vehicle back onto the original dirt road we were on. Rahn is thinking—the corners of his mouth turn down, and he nods to himself as he drives on. “Esther, Three, you’ll be with me. We’ll get food, fuel, and medicine, so we’ll need the vehicle. Corin, you and Seven’ll have to be on foot, gettin’ clothes. We need more shoes and layers. It’s colder here—”

  “No.” Corin’s tone is harsh.

  “What do you mean? It is colder, even you must’ve felt it,” Rahn says.

  “I mean no.” Corin stares straight ahead. “I am not going on my own with Seven.” He says my name like it’s contagious, and it makes me jump. He rarely uses my full name.

  For a second, no one says anything. Heat rises to my face.

  “Why not?” Rahn’s voice is low and gritty. “She may be the weakest of us all, but she’s still got to be used in this operation.”

  “My sister is not some weak little girl,” Three says.

  “She looks like it,” Corin says.

  “Hey.” Esther leans toward her brother. “Stop it.”

  Corin turns and looks at me, his eyes are arresting. “I think it’s best if you sit out on this one.” His stare is hard and harsh, and it’s impossible for me not to know what he’s thinking. He saw what I was like around the augmenters. He doesn’t want me on any raids at all now. Doesn’t trust me.

  “There are only five of us,” Rahn says. “Seven can run fast. Her shoulder’s gettin’ better. We are usin’ her.”

  Corin folds his arms. “She’s still injured though. She should stay in the car; I believe she’s still trustworthy enough for that.” He narrows his eyes. “We shouldn’t leave it unguarded.”

  “The dog will still be in the car,” Esther says. “He’ll guard it.”

  “Even so,” Corin says. “I don’t think Sev should participate in this raid—”

  “You’re being unfair,” I say, my voice breaking. Part of me is surprised. Shouldn’t I be glad not to participate? Not to go anywhere near those people? And my shoulder is injured. But the thought of yet another day when I’m left in the car on my own waiting for them to come back—waiting, with the augmenter in my pocket—sends shivers down my spine. I lean forward, making eye contact with Corin. I need to go on this raid with them. “You’re so prejudiced against me. Is it because I’m a Seer, and you hate us? Or is it because I’m a weak, little girl in your eyes? Or because you saw what I was like when I was Enhanced, and you think that I no longer have the right to be in this group?”

  Rahn gives him a sharp look. Corin doesn’t say anything.

  “Right,” Rahn says. “I am the leader. You all do as I say. I’m goin’ to drop Corin and Seven off on the outskirts. They are goin’ to get clothes and anythin’ else they can. We will drive on and find a backstreet to park in. We leave the dog in here. I will get medicine, Esther and Three will get food. There is to be no arguin’ about this. And,” he adds, giving Corin a stern look, “I do not expect there to be a
ny trouble. You two need to learn to get on if we’re goin’ to survive.”

  A little while later, Rahn drops Corin and me off with our sunglasses on, and we walk into the town. The atmosphere between us hasn’t improved, and, although I’m sure Corin doesn’t know about my augmenter, I can’t shake away the feeling of dread that clings to me. Sideways, I glance at him. He’s staring straight ahead, looking tense. He’s like Rahn: a loaded gun.

  We keep walking. The Luger is tucked under my waistband, and Corin has the Glock. There are enough guns for our group now, given Kayden’s death. I blink back tears quickly.

  A few minutes later, Corin nods at a huge department store across the road. “That one.”

  It doesn’t look like there are any lights on inside.

  “It’s closed,” I say. The door’s shut, most likely locked. I don’t like the idea of breaking in. No one is about, but I don’t want to risk it.

  “There’ll be a back door,” Corin says, already walking toward the large shop.

  Its front is huge, and I count the large windows—eight—until we reach the corner of the block. I look down the side road; the same blue-and-white color scheme spreads down there too. This department store really is huge.

  Sure enough, there’s an alleyway a few hundred feet down the side road, between the edge of this store and the next, with a blue door at the end.

  I follow Corin down the narrow passageway. The walls feel like they’re closing in on us as we reach the door.

  “Stand back,” he says, and I take a step back. He kicks the door in with force and wood splinters. The door hangs off its hinges, swaying slightly. No alarm sounds, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.

  We step into the doorway, and Corin turns back to look at me. He frowns.

  “You need to stay with me all the time, where I can see you. No sneaking off. I want you by my side the whole time. Got it?”

  I narrow my eyes at him, but he won’t be able to see the movement, as we both have dark glasses on. I nod. “Yes. I’ve got it.”