The Shade Chronicles | Book 2 | Predator

by Bradley, T. K.

  “I don’t think…” A tortured look comes to his face, and he turns his back to the train. “I don’t think I’m okay to be around him. He’s not safe with me.”

  “Duh! But he’s safer with you than with anyone else!” I hiss. This is not the place for him to be, obviously, but what other option do we have? “Do you have any suggestions? I’m all ears.” And claws, and teeth.

  Ellis purses his lips. He doesn’t like this situation any more than I do. “I need you to keep me in line.”

  “What?! There’s no way I can overpower you! Back at the compound, you were able to restrain me with one hand!”

  “Not overpower. I just need you to be my inner voice. Remind me what it means to be human.”

  I scoff. “Have you looked at me lately? Nothing about me says human anymore. Shouldn’t Kenzo be the one to remind you?”

  But even as I say it, I realize that would never work. Kenzo, in all his yummy goodness, reminds him of nothing more than how delicious he would taste. If anything, he’s the exact opposite of what Ellis needs right now.

  But Kenzo is also the only chance we have at turning back the clock.

  I sigh. “Okay. I get it. We can keep an eye on each other.”

  He offers me a sad smile. “Deal.”

  We leave the main group of Rippers to themselves in the front compartments, and Kenzo and Howell in the back. We stake out a place somewhere in the middle in a storage compartment packed with moldering boxes filled with who knows what. This wasn’t a passenger train, so it’s not like we’re traveling in any kind of comfort or style, even if you could look past the decrepit status of it. Instead, as the engines begin to hum, I sit with my legs dangling out of the door.

  “Do you think we’ll make it all the way there?” I ask Ellis.

  He comes to sit beside me, and together we hold our breaths as the engine noises reach a fevered pitch and the cars begin to inch forward with a jerk.

  “Honestly?” he asks.

  “No. Lie to me.”

  He snorts out a little laugh. “Then yes, absolutely. We will make it there in record time, won’t have any technical difficulties, and then the research facility will welcome us with open arms and produce a cure within days.”

  “Thank you,” I whisper, and he bumps my shoulder with his.

  “Anytime.”

  And as the train chugs forward, and the station, the compound, and the city on fire slide away, I try to shake the nagging dread that lingers in my chest.

  Tick, tick.

  Tap, tap.

  8

  Lori

  Ellis is pretty much the ideal travel companion. He doesn’t make sarcastic comments insinuating that I’m incompetent like Brent did. And he isn’t unconscious or injured, so I don’t have to drag him like I did Dad.

  Still… I would gladly trade everything I have, my own life included, to bring them back.

  “I’m sorry,” Ellis says softly, his eyes trained on the fading cityscape, now blurred around the edges by smoke.

  I turn to look at him in the moonlight. “For what?”

  “You’re grieving. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for any hand I may have inadvertently played in that.”

  I take in the lines of his face. He’s more human that the other creatures on this train, but most of that is the humanity he’s clinging to, not the shape of his body. “I have no choice but to forgive you for anything you’ve done. Or else what hope do I have for redemption?”

  Ellis hesitates for a moment and then reaches out and gives my hand a pat. It’s awkward, but I guess so is this conversation. It’s a touchy subject, and this isn’t exactly a confession booth. “I appreciate your forgiveness,” he says after a moment, but he winces as he says it. “It’s a drop in the bucket for all the harm I’ve caused, but… I think I needed it.”

  When he retracts his hand, I realize I’d been subconsciously tensed, preparing for an attack. Not that I actually think he would hurt me, but just my Ripper’s acknowledgment that he could end me as easily as snapping his fingers.

  Not that I could snap my fingers… I look down at my claws and compare them to Ellis’s perfectly rounded fingertips. Asshole.

  “Sorry,” he says again, but this time it’s with a hint of humor.

  I groan out a sigh. “Now what for?”

  “I’m not sure, but you’re definitely feeling some animosity towards me.”

  I blow a breath through my teeth in a hiss. “Okay, seriously, do you have some kind of witchy weirdness going on with your mutations? How can you always tell what I’m thinking? It’s creeping me out.”

  He flashes me a little smile, but there’s no mistaking the sadness still lingering behind his eyes. “Not really… but sort of.”

  I gesture for him to elaborate, because seriously, that answer is such a cop out. “Well, I’ve always watched people closely. It’s my job to figure out what people are thinking and planning. But when you pair that with the attuned sense of smell, I can pick up traces of the hormones you exude and piece it together with your body language to come up with a pretty accurate guess on what you’re thinking.”

  I wait a beat. “Dude, that’s even creepier than I imagined. Please stop smelling me.”

  “Hey! It’s not like I get a say in the matter,” he says, getting a little flustered. His eyebrows pinch together in a frown. “It’s not like I can just—”

  I can’t hold in my laughter any longer. “I was joking, Ellis. Geez.”

  “Oh.” He blows out a breath, looking a little chagrined. Good to know I can still hide some of my thoughts from him.

  I’m about to dig into the big questions—you know, the ones about how we avoid starvation for the length of our trip, or what we do during the day, or who the hell is driving this train? But before I can start into my interrogation, there’s a squeal of metal and the train lurches.

  “What the f—” I begin, but we get jolted hard, and I knock into Ellis. He braces me with a hand on my shoulder, and we both turn our eyes toward the front of the train. Shit, can you imagine if I’d fallen out of the train? That probably would’ve sucked.

  The engine is slowly gearing down, the high-pitched whine now more tolerable to my sensitive ears, but that probably isn’t a good thing.

  “I thought we’d make it a bit farther than this, at least. I can still see the city,” I grumble as the train’s brakes squeal and the ground outside goes from being a blur to a more detailed landscape of parched soil and skeletal bushes.

  When we finally chug to a stop, Ellis and I hop down, our feet raising a puff of dust that tickles my nose.

  “Why are we stopping? What’s going on?” Kenzo calls from a few cars back.

  “Stay inside and lock the door. We’ll check it out,” Ellis says, ever the protector. Kenzo slides their door shut with a clang. I feel sorry for him, stuck in there with Howell. The general doesn’t seem the type to be good company.

  I can practically see the tension rippling under Ellis’s skin, his muscles locked tight, ready for anything. I, however, feel ready for nothing. Except maybe a nap and a rare steak.

  Farther up the train, we can see the rest of the soldiers hopping down. “What’s up?” I ask my mom as we jog up to her side.

  “Debris across the tracks.” Her words sound innocent enough, but her eyes are darting back and forth across the terrain. And after taking a peek at the perfectly stacked pile of junk laid in our path, I have to agree with her unspoken assessment. This has trap written all over it.

  Trey prowls forward, scanning the horizon. He looks back and shares a glance with my mom. Seriously, since when were these two so buddy buddy? I don’t remember them ever being particularly close before… you know, when we were all human.

  It seems that they have a whole conversation with that one look, a discussion had and decisions made within the blink of an eye. Trey gives a nod and addresses the collection of soldiers. “Okay, crew, let’s get this shit cleaned up.” He waves his hand i
n a circle, indicating the mess of planks and bricks, as if we didn’t know what he was referring to.

  I roll my eyes, and then see my mom watching me. Even in the dark, she doesn’t miss a thing. Hell, especially in the dark. The absence of light only seems to help our augmented senses. She probably heard my eyeroll.

  It’s hard to resist rolling them again at the thought.

  The soldiers work as a team, well-practiced at blindly following orders, exactly as the compound leaders trained them, essentially leaving all the higher thought processes to their superiors. They trail back and forth between the tracks and a spot in the clear brush off to the side of the tracks. Far enough away that the train will be able to pass by, but not so far that we lose sight of anyone.

  Ellis joins the troop, throwing a thick beam three times his size over his shoulder and jogging it into the desert. Not to be outdone, Trey does his best to do the same, grunting under the weight and sneering after Ellis.

  “What do you think?” Her voice is soft in my ear, and I hate how it almost sounds familiar. She’s angling herself away from the soldiers; she must know that they can still hear us, but it gives us a false sense of having a private conversation.

  “You mean, what do I think about the trap we are inevitably about to be caught in?”

  “Mm-hm,” she confirms. Her eyes are on mine, but I can tell her attention is on her peripheral vision.

  “I think it’s too obvious. Don’t you think? All that stuff so nicely stacked, just waiting for us.” My brain has been working on it since we stopped the train. “If this is the bait, and we’re the fly… then where’s the flyswatter?”

  “Maybe they saw how many of us there are, and they changed their mind,” Mom speculates. “Perhaps we outnumber them, and they weren’t expecting it.”

  It’s possible, I guess. But the big question remains: Whose trap is it? Rippers looking to stop humans from escaping? Humans trying to stop Rippers from spreading? Hell, this pile could’ve been sitting here for years and maybe our potential assailants are long dead.

  But the creeping feeling along my skin says otherwise. Someone is watching us…

  Kenzo. Panic spears through me, and my mom’s eyes dart to mine, widening, as if she’s heard my thought.

  We turn and dash down the length of the train, throwing open the door to Kenzo’s car. Howell’s huddled in the corner of the dark train car, a gun in his hand, and as the door opens, he swings it up to angle it in my direction. From my lower position on the ground, I find myself staring straight down the barrel. “What the hell are you doing?” he growls.

  Howell knows better than anyone what Rippers are capable of. Does he honestly think that gun will do anything against himself? More likely it’s just his security blanket now that he doesn’t have his thick walls protecting him. I can’t help the sneer on my lips as I take in his quivering stink. He smells like fear.

  Kenzo, on the other hand, doesn’t have a drop of fear in him as he steps forward, the moonlight spilling in from the open door making his skin glow. He crouches down in the open doorway, leaning close. “What’s going on out there? Is everything okay?”

  “Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine. Just needed to clear some debris off the tracks. We should be starting up again soon, just sit tight.” No point scaring him, right? He doesn’t need to know that we might currently be walking into a trap.

  “Can I help?” he asks.

  My mother reaches out and pats Kenzo’s leg, and I almost swat her hand away. As it is, I can’t stop my lip from curling back, baring my teeth. I have no doubt that she sees my reaction, makes note of it. “You’re very kind for offering,” she says, her voice almost a purr. “But I’m afraid your presence may be a distraction. I’m sure you understand.”

  “Yes, of course.” Kenzo looks a bit chastised, but I doubt that he’s fully thinking through what she said. He would be a distraction because everyone would be tempted to eat him.

  As we bid them goodbye and close the door once again, I catch a look of confusion on my mom’s face. Or maybe it’s frustration. It’s such a human expression, and I realize I haven’t seen a lot of this vulnerability on the Rippers so far. They’re far too confident for their own good.

  “I don’t get it,” Mom snaps. “None of this makes sense.”

  I know she’s already considered everything I’ve been thinking and dismissed each possibility. There’s nothing left.

  “Judith?” Trey calls back. “Track is clear. We’re moving.”

  She nods, distracted. “Yeah, sure.”

  The rumble of the engine grows in volume as it warms up once again. Ellis walks back, brushing the dust from his hands onto his pants. As the soldiers load into their cars at the front, Trey prowls toward us, his shoulders as straight as they’ll allow and his face carefully guarded. “Mind if I join you guys?”

  “Uhhh…” I begin, but Ellis holds a hand up to stop me from outright turning him down.

  “Sure,” he says. I always thought there was no love lost between these guys, but one look at Ellis’s face tells me there’s more going on.

  Without another word, I hop up into the train car, Ellis, Trey, and my mom coming in behind me. Well, isn’t this cozy.

  Their presence is itching under my skin. These two people have done nothing but lie to me, manipulating me to their whims. How the hell am I supposed to trust that they won’t do it again? I’m bound to suspect anything that comes out of their mouths.

  I’m about to say as much when Ellis shoots me a look. He gives an imperceptible shake of his head when Mom and Trey’s backs are turned. He wants to run the show? Fine by me.

  I position myself in the doorway as the train’s engine gears up. Even as the ground begins to slide away, my nerves are still on high alert. Shouldn’t the trap have sprung by now? I watch the deconstructed barricade move past and disappear into the distance. It isn’t until it is fully out of sight that I allow my nerves to cautiously uncoil.

  That is, until Trey opens his mouth. “We need to work together,” he says in his gravelly voice, and I hate that it somehow still does something to my insides.

  I sit at the open door, dangling my legs over the edge, and try to emulate a relaxed curve to my spine and shoulders. As if I’m not affected by this man—or is it monster?—at all. I need to keep him firmly in enemy territory in my mind, and the fact that he’s trying to get us working on the same side has got my emotions in a tug-of-war. Regardless of our history, I don’t trust him. Not one little bit.

  Ellis, luckily, takes point. “Huh. I wasn’t aware we’d been against each other. Work together how, exactly? To what end?”

  Even with my eyes trained on the blurred landscape sweeping past, I can somehow register their position in the train car, their tiny scuffles of movement translating to an image in my mind. All of this information coming into my senses—the taste of their emotions, the vibrations as they shift through the space—it all paints a perfect picture of what’s going on behind me.

  And it’s not pretty.

  Trey’s hackles are up. He has the hot scent of rage as he leans into Ellis. Trey may be taller, but he knows he wouldn’t have a chance one on one, hand to hand. “The other soldiers see you two over here, standing apart from the rest of us, and they see it as outright rebellion. You have to get in line.”

  My mom steps between them. She’s not angry, but there’s a wariness about her. Her voice is calm on the surface, but I can hear a tiny fluctuation that belies her true emotions. She’s uncertain about the very ground she’s standing on… which I guess is ironic because we’re on a train, speeding across the terrain, and all of what lies ahead is most certainly uncertain. “The soldiers fear you, Major Hill. You’re an unknown factor in all of this. I believe that it would help morale on this journey if they saw us working together. Maybe if you would come to join us in the front car, spending some time with the troops. And Lori,” she says to my back, “the civilians know you. They don’t trust the military
presence, with good reason, but they trust you. You’re one of them.”

  “And what category do you fit into?” I ask. My voice is carried away on the wind whipping past, but I know she’s heard me with her augmented senses. “You’re not a soldier, but you lead them. You were a citizen, but you were written off for dead.”

  Mom takes a long slow breath. Maybe she’s taking a measurement of my own emotions, tasting how I’m not as unaffected by all this as I attempt to appear. Finally, she says, “You have a fair point.”

  She sounds just as surprised by her admission as I am. I’m about to come back with a snarky comment about how hard it must have been to admit that, but my words freeze on my lips.

  Something isn’t right.

  “Ellis, do you—?” I don’t have a chance to finish my thought before I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Even as the entire landscape beyond the door is nothing but a blur, this is different. It’s a scuttling, jerking flash from above. I turn my head to look, and something clips the side of my temple. Stars burst in front of my eyes.

  I’m lucky that I fall back instead of forward. I could have just as easily tumbled straight out of the train, and while that wouldn’t kill me, it would leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere. Instead, I find myself lying on my back, listening to the sounds of a struggle. Thumps, growls, a yip of someone being hurt, the scent of blood.

  And then a gasp.

  Just like that, everything comes to a standstill.

  And then I hear a voice from the past, straight out of my nightmares. “Hello, Lori.”

  It can’t be… I blink to clear my vision and try to sit up, shaking away the confusion. There, just inches from my face, is a Ripper I haven’t seen since I was human—the first I’d ever truly seen, in fact. “Kelly?” I’m proud at how steady my voice is.

  “Surprise!” she says, a malicious grin exposing her razor-sharp canines. “Did you miss me?”

  “Can’t say I know you well enough to miss you. And you didn’t exactly make the best first impression.” My first experience with “Kelly” was when her father, Bob, went a bit loony and attacked me, believing himself to be his own long-lost daughter, his personality fractured into two halves. Turns out, she’s a bit murderous in real life too. When I finally met her in person, it was as she led her pack of Rippers into the department store, ready to kill us all. Well, ready to kill my family anyway. Bob seemed safe enough.