The Shade Chronicles | Book 2 | Predator

by Bradley, T. K.

  “No, you’re probably right. The question is now… how will they die?”

  Ellis waits a beat, contemplating his answer as we watch the line of trucks and soldiers file out through the door and up the ramp. As they stir the air, the whiff of smoke from outside becomes stronger. It won’t be long now.

  “My money’s on him,” Ellis finally says. I look to where his eyes are trained. Trey. He’s helping the last of the civilian Rippers into the flatbed of a truck. There’s not much we can say right now because of the finely tuned hearing of every single creature in the room, but the look we share says enough.

  Trey is an immediate threat to us all.

  Kenzo stumbles over to us, struggling under the weight of his backpack. “What about me? Which truck do I ride in?”

  Ellis is shaking his head, though. “Nope, no truck for you.”

  “I have to walk?” Kenzo’s brows furrow, and he’s no doubt regretting everything he’s packed into that backpack. “I kinda thought as humanity’s last chance for a cure that I might catch a break.” He tries to shrug, but his shoulders are compressed by his bag’s straps.

  I blow out a breath, and I have to say, I’m impressed that my new monster status hasn’t impacted my ability for dramatic sighs and eye rolls. Thank god! A life without drama is no life at all. I snatch one of the straps from his shoulder and slide it from his back with ease.

  “You don’t have to—” he begins to protest until he sees how little the weight impacts me. “Oh, never mind. Thank you, I guess.”

  “You’re welcome, I guess.” I stick out my tongue and toss his bag’s strap over my shoulder. I’m tempted to use just one finger to carry it just to prove a point, but with my luck, my claw would slice through the strap.

  Kenzo takes a step to follow after the trucks, but Ellis holds a hand out to stop him. “You don’t have to walk.”

  “But you said no truck,” Kenzo says, and Ellis steps to the side and gestures with an arm.

  “Ta-da!” I say, flashing hooked jazz hands at the motorcycle. “Nothing but the best for our cure,” I tease.

  “Oh… I don’t know how to ride a motorcycle.” Kenzo looks almost embarrassed, but he really doesn’t need to be. It’s not like any of us have experience with these things. It’s not like there was a driver’s ed in the compound.

  Ellis has everything covered, though. “That’s what the sidecar is for.”

  “And me?” I ask. “Do I have to walk?” I try my best not to pout.

  Ellis pretends to think about it for a second before he gives his head a nod, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Nah, come on. You can ride behind me.”

  While Kenzo gets settled into the sidecar, I watch the final Rippers file through the door. Trey throws a look my way. I’m not sure if it’s jealousy or suspicion… or hunger. And I thought interpreting what boys wanted was hard before. Maybe he’s just watching us to be sure that we follow. Leave no man—or woman—behind and all that.

  Once Ellis is straddling the bike, I slide on behind him. He kicks on the engine, and the vibration of the engine beneath me brings me a kind of comfort. It jostles my senses and drowns out a lot of the noise that has been bombarding me from all sides. It cancels out the beating of Kenzo’s heart, and the smell of the exhaust helps to conceal the tantalizing aroma of the blood in his veins.

  Ellis may appear mostly human, but when I wrap an arm around his waist, it’s clear that he’s anything but. There is no softness to the flesh beneath his uniform. Is that how I would feel to Kenzo’s touch? Hard and inhuman?

  With a roar, Ellis pushes off and we catapult through the door and up the ramp into the night air beyond.

  We catch up with the parade of trucks with ease, and I wish we could simply pass them all and keep right on going. Their pace feels ridiculously slow, but I guess they’re limited by the Rippers’ jogging speed. Sure, it’s like a billion times faster than what a human is capable of, but still. I want to feel the wind whipping my hair out behind me, the scents of a world long dead passing over my skin.

  Oh man, do you think this is what it was like for dogs when they stuck their heads out of car windows? I am not an animal, I remind myself, but just in case, I tuck my head behind Ellis’s back and pretend I can’t feel the urges to hunt and kill.

  “How are you handling it?” Ellis asks. “The hunger.”

  I look to where Kenzo is hunkered down in the sidecar. He clearly can’t hear what Ellis is saying, the rush of wind pulling the words away from his weak human ears.

  “It’s… not easy,” I admit in barely more than a whisper, yet I have no doubt he can hear me. “What about you? You make it look so effortless.”

  If possible, he stiffens even further beneath my hand. “It’s not,” he says simply.

  “You’re stronger than the Rippers. I just assumed… that everything was different for you.”

  “Different, maybe. I don’t have anything to compare it to.” Of course he doesn’t. This experience is new for all of us. “It’s like ants crawling under my skin,” he tries to explain. “Little tiny ants that are all on fire.”

  “Gee, that sounds like fun.”

  His shoulders move with a chuckle. “Sure, it’s like a surprise party.”

  “I hate surprises,” I mumble. He doesn’t disagree.

  Everything looks different to my eyes this time around. We passed these same buildings just a week ago, but they seem smaller now somehow. Less intimidating with their reach toward the night sky. Has my outlook on the world changed so much? Or maybe it’s just because I know they’ll soon be nothing more than ashes on the ground of a world soon forgotten.

  I can’t stop myself from thinking about Bob. He had an entire department store filled to the brim with supplies, with relics. What other resources are currently being consumed by the fire raging across the city? Were there other humans holed up in corners? Will they survive the blaze? I refuse to believe we were the last.

  I can see the glow of the burning inferno against the backdrop of night. When we cruise through an intersection, there’s the flicker of flames in the distance across the dry riverbed. It won’t be long before it spreads. All it will take is an ember, one spark to make the leap, and the rest of the city will be brought to its knees.

  At least the fire will take Kelly and her pack of Rippers with it. Bob’s daughter must’ve been caught in the blaze when it first ignited at the department store. And maybe, between our pack of monsters leaving and the other being burned to a crisp in the fire, any remaining humans in the city might have a chance at survival. At least then the only thing they’ll have to contend with is the sun. It’s practically child’s play in comparison. Right?

  Too bad we’re burning all the buildings down. No more canned food, medical supplies, rodents, or, you know, shade from the sun.

  The city passes by in a blur. “Where are we going anyway?” I ask Ellis.

  He shrugs. “Howell didn’t say. He’s up in the lead car all by himself. He wants to make sure we can’t make this trip without him. I think it’s safe to guess what would happen to him if he became expendable.”

  Oh yeah, I have no doubt. The way my salivary glands tingle at the thought confirms that my inner Ripper is on board with tearing the man to shreds. Too bad there isn’t enough of him to go around. He’s a big man, but certainly not enough to share.

  I bite down on my lip. How the hell am I supposed to get through this? To survive long enough to be cured? Ellis takes a breath and turns his head to peek at me. Is he able to sense my discomfort somehow? He places his hand over mine, but I pull away. There’s no amount of comfort that can make this situation okay.

  We keep up a steady pace through the barren streets, and luckily, they’re all clear of debris from when the scavenging parties came through. It only takes us about 20 minutes before the cavalcade slows and our destination comes into view.

  “What… what is this place?” I’m obviously not familiar with the city
beyond what I’ve seen with my own two eyes, and this building doesn’t fit with my expectations of, well… anything. The world as a whole is now sun-bleached chic, so I guess this place does meet certain criteria. The façade was probably beautiful once. I can’t tell exactly how many stories used to tower above, since the top half of the building appears to have taken up residence on the pavement below, but I can still see intricately carved stone in places.

  It’s obvious that Howell hasn’t told a soul about our destination. I can see the eyes of the Rippers around us as they emerge from the vehicles, wide with curiosity. This is the first excursion to the outdoors for most of these people. I wonder if I looked so fresh straight out of the gate.

  “Wow,” Kenzo whispers. His hair is windblown and adorably tousled, and his jaw is slack as he spins in place, eyes trained up and out. I have to remind myself that his weak human eyes can’t see everything in the same detail.

  “Is it everything you dreamed it would be?” I ask, half-teasing.

  “Well, no, honestly,” he says, his gaze finally rounding back on me. “My memories tend to focus on the sun, which is obviously absent… and I should probably be grateful for that. But the nights, I remember them being… colder. And louder.”

  And he’s right. I extend my focus outward from our band of merry monsters and find that, beyond the ruckus we’re all making as we unload supplies, there’s just nothing. No breeze through non-existent trees. No insects chirping, no rodents scurrying. They have their own prey instincts telling them to steer clear of the threat.

  That’s me. Menace of creatures large and small.

  Howell is on the move. I smell him before I see him. He’s armed himself with a big gun, though I’m not sure what good it will do him if one of us decides to make a move. He jogs halfway up the crumbling front stairs and turns to address the crowd.

  “Stay back! I mean it!”

  Wow, that’s it? That will no doubt go down in history as the best speech ever.

  We wait for him to get to the top of the stairs and disappear into the building before the first of us begin following at a slower pace. I approach where Trey is handing out boxes of supplies from the back of his truck.

  “Making new friends?” he growls low at me and shoves a box into my arms.

  “More like reacquainting with old friends.” I’m not sure why I feel the need to defend my actions to Trey, but I do. Sure, I may have only met Ellis the one time, but I can’t help that he makes me feel safer than Trey does. Not that I’ll be admitting that to anyone.

  “Just wait,” Trey hisses. “The hunger will only get worse. Soon enough, you won’t be able to stand being anywhere near the good doctor.”

  Worse? Did he say worse? I can’t even go there. I can’t imagine a worse feeling than the itching beneath my skin, my tongue parched, my stomach yearning to be filled.

  I turn away from Trey with a glare, but not before he whispers, “You’ll come back to me. Just wait.”

  I take my box and head back toward where Kenzo is standing awkwardly next to Ellis. He doesn’t even seem the least bit afraid about his position among the pack. The other Rippers are eyeing him up, but Ellis is an unknown threat. He smells like a predator, even to me.

  Ellis makes us wait until the rest of them move up the stairs. He would prefer to keep Kenzo at the back of the group, so he only has to protect him from one side. Makes sense. I’m dying to see what’s going on inside, and I guess there’s nothing stopping me from running on ahead, but still, I find myself standing with Kenzo and Ellis.

  My mother and Trey watch me closely. I can feel their eyes skittering across my skin, even after they’ve passed into the building.

  Then it’s finally our turn. The stairs beneath my feet feel smooth and warm from the day’s heat, though slightly pitted from exposure to the elements. I have to be careful that my claws don’t catch on the steps, but it appears that Kenzo is even worse off. He stumbles. Before I can stop myself, I reach out to steady him.

  I latch onto his arm. “Thanks,” he says, but when he moves to pull his arm back, I don’t let go. “Lori?” he says softly, uncertainty lacing his voice.

  I can’t stop my soft gasp, an involuntary breath of air passing over my tongue, and I can taste him. Tangy and salty, he tastes like life.

  “Lori?” This time it’s Ellis, and his voice isn’t soft like Kenzo’s. No, there’s a sharp edge to it, a warning. Let go—or else.

  I close my eyes and focus on lifting each finger, one at a time, until I feel his arm tug away from my grip. I clench my teeth to stop from reaching after him.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. I’m apologizing for so much more than just grabbing his arm. For almost losing control, for being this awful thing. There aren’t enough apologies in the world to make up for the giant pile of shit I’m sitting in, but maybe I’m not the only one who should be trying to make amends.

  I run up the rest of the steps without stopping.

  “Lori, wait!” Kenzo calls up to me.

  “No, Kenzo. It isn’t safe for me to be around you. Not now… maybe not ever.”

  “We’ll figure this out, Lori, I promise.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” I spin away and enter the darkened interior. The dank odor presses in on me just as surely as my own depression. I can feel my pupils dilate to accommodate to the shadows, and I know for certain that Kenzo will be blind in here. It’s a good thing he has Ellis to guide him. Part of me wants to stick around and help, but no, that isn’t a good idea. I can’t trust myself, and he shouldn’t trust me either.

  I focus on moving through the building towards where I can hear the rest of our group at the far end. This place looks like a giant rat’s nest, which is probably exactly what it is, but they’ve cleared out now that we’re here. There are some railings and counters, a giant board against the wall with faded letters and numbers.

  New York – 7:45 AM

  Chicago – 12:15 PM

  Toronto – 2:00 PM

  What? My eyes scan the narrow room until they see an old faded poster, an ad that shows a train traveling through the mountains. It’s encouraging me to “take the scenic route.” Is this… a train station?

  A tiny thrill courses through me—I’ve never been on a train before! I jog through the rest of the station, pointedly ignoring how squishy the ground is between my toes, and emerge out the back of the building. There it is. The train! It looks… well, if I’m being brutally honest, it looks like a rusted metal shell, barely more than a vaguely train-shaped husk. I have a hard time speculating that it might be functional whatsoever. But for Howell’s sake, it had better be.

  And even assuming we can get it running, there’s a lot of track between here and northern Canada. How can he be so sure that we’ll be able to get there?

  I sag in premature defeat. This whole thing reeks of failure. I’m so stupid; I tried so hard not to get my hopes up, but by the way my stomach is sinking all the way down to my heels, I would say at least a tiny bit of hope snuck in there. Like a splinter under my fingernail. Or… claw. Whatever.

  I look down at my hands, the tips of my claws gleaming with a viscous gel. What the hell is that? “That’s new,” I say, my lip curling up in disgust.

  “Venom,” a voice says. I don’t need to look to know it’s Trey. His voice is far too familiar to my ears, even beneath the rough texture his new-and-improved throat provides.

  “Excuse me? Did you just say venom?”

  He gives a soft chuckle, and I hate how it rumbles through me. My traitorous body should not be responding to him in any way, shape, or form.

  “Your transformation isn’t quite complete. You’re still changing. Getting even better.”

  “Better at what?” I snap. “Losing any semblance of what I used to be?”

  He moves closer. Too close. His breath brushes my neck as he leans in and whispers, “You’re becoming the ideal predator. Nothing and no one can stand in your way. You will be s
tanding at the top of the food pyramid like a queen. My queen.”

  His chest vibrates from where it’s pressed against me. “Did you just purr? And that smell, what the hell is that? Are you turned on? Ewww. Why can I smell that?”

  Trey freezes. Yep, pretty sure I just bruised his poor ego. I’m sorry, but does he think I’m going to fall all over him because he shows me a little interest? I mean, just because that’s exactly what I’ve done in the past, that doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to change. Ha! I think it’s safe to say that I am pretty much as far as I could get from the naïve little girl I once was.

  Trey gives a snort, every muscle taut. When he steps back, the warm night air rushes in to fill his absence, and I have to say, I don’t mind the space. I’ve had enough of feeling contained.

  “Get your ass on the train,” he spits before spinning around and stomping off. “I won’t hesitate to leave you behind,” he throws over his shoulder before hopping onto a train car himself. There’s a creak of metal, and I shudder thinking of us all trusting in this decrepit machine to take us out of town, let alone the country. What the hell are we thinking?

  Most of the Rippers are already on board. We’re a motivated bunch. To my right, I see Ellis and Kenzo step onto the platform. Gratefully, they’re keeping their distance from me, as if I’m some kind of ticking time bomb.

  Tick, tick.

  “Where’s Howell?” I ask Ellis, as if he has all the insider information.

  He turns his head from side to side, listening. “He’s in the rear car, while the Shredders are up near the front. He probably wants to keep as much distance between them as possible.” He points Kenzo toward the back of the train. “You go join Howell. It’s probably the safest place for you.”

  Kenzo looks incredibly uncomfortable with the prospect of leaving his bodyguard behind, but he does as he’s instructed.

  Ellis approaches me, and for the first time, I can see the strain in his body. He’s suffering.

  “You okay?” I whisper as softly as I can. We don’t need the others seeing weakness; something tells me they have a taste for it.