[2018] Reign of Queens

by Melissa Wright

  She had incredible eyes. Not a hint of fear in them since the day they’d met. Had it been a week already? Eight days?

  Riley looked away, not wanting to think of that. He had to do this. It was his turn to keep Mackenzie safe.

  “I feel so useless,” Hannah said, her voice as low as a breath.

  He shifted toward her, allowing the press of his shoulder to be what reassurance it could. They’d had this discussion. How did you sit back and watch your family being taken from you, your world being destroyed?

  The answer was that you couldn’t. And the new question became what chance did you have against monsters, beings from another world.

  The cut on Riley’s arm prickled, as if the very thought of them brought it to life. He pressed his fingers into the hard metal of his gun, resisting the urge to touch his Mark.

  He could never let them see.

  Hannah wiped her brow, tucking a strand of dark hair back inside her helmet. “What’s taking so long?”

  Riley shook his head.

  “I heard they caught one,” the boy on Riley’s other side said. “A big, nasty one with fangs and spotted fur.” A scoff came from the opposite bench, but a few of the others egged him on. “Yeah,” he added. “It’s got, like, claws.” He held out his hand for emphasis, curling the spread fingers into a poor imitation of hooked talons.

  Riley glanced sidelong at Hannah, who looked like she might be ready to shut the kid up.

  “It isn’t a joke,” Riley told him. “Those things have killed people, Tyler.”

  The boy shrugged. “You don’t gotta tell me. That’s why I’m here.” He leaned forward, apparently unable to restrain either his words or the jittering of his legs. “Bobby says the doc’s cuttin’ people for fun, but I think it’s more than that. Why would we lock the Marked ones up if they’re not plannin’ on doing something with ’em?”

  A gangly kid in sun-bleached fatigues spoke up from the back of the truck. “I heard they were chopping the Marks off, like whole limbs and everything.” He made a slicing motion with the edge of his hand.

  “See?” Tyler said. “Now why cut off a man’s arm if he wasn’t worth nothin’?”

  “I heard it’s a virus,” another voice said.

  “You know it’s not,” Hannah barked. “They don’t cut off your arm for a virus. Now shut your traps, all of you. We’re supposed to be on watch.”

  “All I’m sayin’,” muttered Tyler, “is that the bus of ten-year-olds is at the front of the line. And I ain’t so thrilled at the prospect of rippin’ off my own skin just so they can figure out what’s inside.”

  Riley’s elbows drew back, arms hugging closer to his sides. Contamination, the officers had said. Something in the Marked’s blood they couldn’t identify. Hannah was right, it wasn’t contagious. But no matter what they’d done, the poison remained, lingering there for whatever it was these monsters awaited.

  The tarp door flipped open, throwing a blinding light inside. “Fall in!” their commander—a pale, lanky twenty-year-old with flat-topped blond hair—yelled. He turned to go before they’d even had a chance to move.

  Riley and the others leapt through the opening single-file, lining up in two rows beside the bed of the truck. Three men in clear plastic suits over shirt and tie walked by, black metal cases and clipboards and electronic devices in their gloved hands as they chattered about what they’d find.

  Riley remembered his high-school science teacher droning, “The Earth’s core is composed largely of metallic iron and nickel.” Those words were echoing here, along with terms like gravitational redshift and the Einstein-Rosen Bridge. He wished he’d paid closer attention. He really wished he still had access to the Internet.

  “What’s here?” Hannah whispered from beside him.

  Riley shrugged, unable to see much past a line of armored tanks and supply vehicles. The trucks had stopped on an unlined, paved road, the grass verges beneath their feet already tracked with mud and boot prints. Even with the crowd of armed men, something about it felt deserted. There were no treetops in the distance, no buildings, no real signs of life.

  “Ain’t no monsters,” Tyler mused from behind them. “Looks like they already ate everything in sight.”

  Two more men walked by, these wearing full hazmat gear, their gadgets clicking with a sound Riley recognized from old television shows. But surely they weren’t checking for radiation. Hannah shifted beside him. He was certain they were all thinking the same thing: Why are we the only ones not wearing hazmat gear? And where are we?

  Their commander came toward them, that ready-with-orders look in his eye, and they straightened, ready themselves.

  And then the truck that had been stopped in front of them lurched forward with a sputter, leaving Riley a view of the land beyond.

  His stomach turned.

  “It’s Oak Park,” he whispered. “Just outside of West Ridge.”

  Riley stared at the park he’d known since he was a child. They were on the other side, opposite the few blocks that would lead to his house. Opposite the spot he’d been attacked by flying monsters, Marked.

  His hands shook, palms sweated. The cut across his forearm screamed to be acknowledged. All this time, he’d been running from this very place. He’d fought newly-formed gangs and frantic families, desperate for food and supplies, for whatever might be inside his meagerly-stocked backpack. He’d gotten lost, wasted days, slept alone and terrified in an upturned waste bin that had been frequented by rats. He had been attacked by a dog, turned feral by lack of food, its broken chain dragging across the asphalt still sounding in his ears at night.

  He had run from his sister. He had abandoned Mackenzie, the only family he had left, with no more than a note. To keep her safe. To bear this burden on himself, for once, to be her savior.

  He had been terrified. He had run. And here he was. Staring into the park where it had all begun.

  Hannah bumped his elbow. “You okay there?”

  No. Riley was not okay. Riley would never be okay.

  Riley was Marked.

  He cleared his throat. Managed a nod. There were maybe a hundred trucks now, older, more experienced soldiers joining their troops. The younger ones had been meant as support, Tyler had said. No more than runners and grunts. He’d apparently been gathering information since the first of the other trucks arrived, and his rambling explanations hadn’t let up once he’d found their group again.

  “Captain says this is the epicenter. They’ve traced some kind of electrical signals from that first night, back to this very spot. Well, that spot.” He pointed toward the park, flattened earth and shattered, uprooted trees.

  Riley’s mouth was dry, he could barely swallow. Why had he not thought of this? Why had he not known the army would come back here, to the place where it had started? Mackenzie had told him. Mackenzie had said those creatures were here, she’d tried to report it to the authorities, to tell them over the phone. They hadn’t believed her.

  Riley hadn’t believed her either, he realized. He’d thought she was wrong. There was no way West Ridge, Ohio was the destination of an alien invasion. It had to be from somewhere else. She had to be wrong.

  Mackenzie. Was she there, just across the park and those few blocks from where he stood? He was going to throw up, as sure as anything.

  “Hey,” Hannah said, thrusting her canteen into his chest.

  He took it, bending over and splashing the cool water over his face. If they’d given him food, he’d have retched it onto the asphalt.

  Hannah knelt beside him, glancing at the officers before making him look her in the eye.

  “I live here,” he told her. “Over there.”

  She cursed, the sound more awe than anything else. “You’re kidding. Were you here? That night?”

  The look on his face was answer enough.

  Her expression said she imagined his fear, imagined him losing his family, imagined the worst of the worst at the hands of these beasts. />
  “I have to get there. Hannah, I have to see if she’s alive.”

  She nodded, not even asking who he meant. Hannah had understood as much as any of them. She knew what this storm had done. “I’ll check with the captain,” she promised. She took a breath. “If you’re familiar with the area, maybe they’ll let us…” She saw Riley’s face and her voice dropped. “Ry, I’m sorry. We’ll do this. Even if we have to go AWOL, we will get you to this place. We’ll make sure you know.”

  Chapter 23

  Mackenzie fell to the earth on top of Hunter, a harder landing than before, even though he’d protected her by hitting first. The dizziness was gone though, replaced by a strange electricity.

  They were home.

  She had made it.

  She sat up, momentarily straddling a still-shirtless Hunter before rolling off of him to hug the ground. Her fingers dug through spikes of green grass, searching out the dark, rich soil below. It smelled of home. Everything smelled healthy and alive and right. She flopped onto her back, throwing her arms wide, and breathed in the cool air. It was overfull of moisture and scent, the chill of a fresh breeze tingling every inch of her skin. She was alive.

  Mackenzie leapt to her feet, giddy with the sensation of sun on her face, ready to shout out to the sky—and tripped on Hunter’s legs to sprawl face-down in the grass. She pressed herself up in a giggling heap to assure Hunter she was fine, steadying herself against him while she plucked crisp fall leaves from her hair. They crunched beneath her hands into a thousand pieces and she began to laugh. It was a deep, full-bodied thing that reached every corner of her heart. She laughed like she hadn’t laughed in weeks. She laughed liked she used to laugh with Riley. Riley, who was going to be okay.

  She let out a long, glorious breath, gaze finally finding Hunter’s, and couldn’t help but think of what her brother would say about this. Mackenzie in the park with a monster, her hand resting on his bare flesh. Her smile turned mischievous, and something changed in Hunter’s stare.

  His eyes never came off of her, turning to heat. Before Mackenzie had a moment to process it, Hunter launched himself at her, taking her waist and crushing her to him for a heartbeat of hesitation until Mackenzie’s startled grip eased and she relaxed against him, letting her fingers trail his flesh.

  Hunter’s gaze never left hers. When he felt the change in her, he moved closer, closing the distance. His lips touched hers, testing, teasing, waiting for her to answer. Mackenzie was drunk with the energy of that other realm, with being home and with hope. Her breath fell from her lips in a thousand tiny, tingling sparks and she tilted her head toward him, pressing closer, melting into him and relishing in it, feeling every single element of his touch. The sensation rolled through her, and the kiss deepened. Hunter drew her to him, close enough that every part of them could meet. Her hands were on his bare skin, dragging up his muscled back, and his hands wrapped around her, one low, where his thumb pressed to the front her hip, one higher, keeping her close and trailing her neck as his mouth—hot, wet, unrelenting—tangled with hers, his fingers tracing the line of her collar bone and—

  Mackenzie pulled away the moment his touch slid lower, her hand coming between them to press three trembling fingertips against her lips. All of her tingled, and for a moment, she’d nearly forgotten why she’d drawn away. She stared at him, hand still pressed to her lips, unable to speak.

  He had kissed her stupid. She’d heard the expression, but apparently it was a real, true thing.

  She blinked, cleared her throat. Hunter was watching her, hand still resting on her hip. Every part of her remained entirely aware of him, but Mackenzie thought he didn’t look like he believed he’d actually done it.

  She felt as if she were on fire.

  She lowered her hand, easing back from him. “We need to go find Riley.”

  Hunter opened his mouth to speak, got out, “I—” and then started again. “Mackenzie—”

  “It isn’t like before,” she said. “I don’t need to you to tell them where we are. I just want to get Riley, to find him before it’s too late.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him behind her. “I know what we need to do now, you just have to go. You just have to save him, to take off that Mark—”

  Hunter stopped dead in his tracks, the force of it yanking Mackenzie around to face him. He stared at her. “Riley is Marked?”

  She paled; she could feel the blood draining from her skin, taste the dread on her tongue. Everything was more.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” he hissed.

  She swallowed hard, not exactly certain why she’d not mentioned it, why she was still trying so hard to protect everything about her brother. “It’s okay now,” she said. “You can fix it.”

  Hunter’s eyes closed for a long, horrible moment. “I can’t take back the choosing, Mackenzie. It can never be undone.”

  She looked at him for one long moment, and then curled in on herself, pressing hard against her chest in an attempt to suppress the excruciating pain.

  “I’m sorry,” Hunter said. “I’m so sorry.” His fingers tightened in her grip, pulling her back toward him. “I have to close the portal, Mackenzie. Whether or not your brother is inside.”

  She stared up at him, not caring that her emotions shone bare in her eyes, and Hunter said softly, “It cannot change, Mackenzie. There is too much riding on this one thing.”

  Her eyes fell closed, lashes brushing her cheeks. The wind whispered past, time slipping slowly away. Too late, Krea had said. It was too late.

  Mackenzie drew her hand from Hunter’s grip, shrugging her shoulders back as she clutched the neck of her shirt. She did not see his response when she pulled the material aside to show him what it had been hiding. She couldn’t look into his eyes when she displayed the wound on her own flesh.

  But she felt it, the change in the air, the prickle on her skin. It crawled over her, sizzling with power, humming through her body and tingling, teasing her awareness.

  And then he was touching her, sighing her name, and she had to keep them closed, pressed tight as he pulled her to his chest.

  “That’s why,” he breathed into her hair. “That’s what Krea meant. How you weren’t crushed when we went through. Oh, gods, Mackenzie. Oh, gods.”

  “It was Azral,” she said. “That day in the park. I didn’t realize then, I didn’t know what it meant.” Hunter stiffened at the mention of Azral’s name, but she kept talking. “I was only thinking of Riley, only what it meant for him. I didn’t even… I thought it was just an accident, the graze of his claws as he dropped me.” She hiccupped a breath, though she wasn’t crying, and Hunter eased back to look at her face. “I didn’t know. Not until Krea tried to dress me in that cape.”

  Hunter brushed a thumb over Mackenzie’s cheek and she leaned into the touch. “I can feel it,” she said. “I can feel it moving through every part of you.” Her gaze found his. “And I can feel the gateway.”

  His eyes said everything she thought they would. You’re one of us. It’s too late.

  But his words were kinder, his hands gentle on her back. “It’s the energy,” he said. “It can’t hurt you here.” He pulled her tight into his arms. “Come on, let me take you home.”

  Chapter 24

  Hunter hadn’t said a word as he carried Mackenzie back to her childhood home. He hadn’t said a word as she’d walked in, returning to a place she thought she’d never see again, and stood in the center of the kitchen where she’d deposited him nearly a week before. When she finally turned to him, he said, “I’m sorry. If I had known…”

  But Mackenzie could see there was nothing he could have done. It was too late.

  Hunter stepped toward her, his voice low. “There are dangerous things happening in the dying lands, Mackenzie. Once the reaping is through I don’t think I can ever reopen the gate. And even if I could, if the gateway isn’t close to alignment, no one else could come through.”

  Not even monsters. Not even her.

/>   Mackenzie winced, nodded. “I can feel it drawing me to it,” she said.

  He took her arms, forcing her to look at him. “There might be a way, since you’ve spent time on the other side, some chance of you tethering yourself here. It won’t be easy, but now that you’ve turned, now that you’ve been in the dying lands long enough the energy has had a chance to change you…” She felt a spike of the power flash through her, and he said, “It will be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. And it will hurt you.”

  His words said it was a risk, but Mackenzie could see the goodbye in his eyes. He must have believed she could do it.

  She could stay in her world.

  “The magic will ebb,” he said. “If you make it, eventually there will be nothing left.”

  “And I’ll just be me?” she asked.

  He smiled, but it couldn’t reach his eyes. “As much as you can ever be after this.”

  And Riley would be pulled through. He hadn’t gone through yet, hadn’t been changed by it. There would be no time to take him, even if it was safe to go back across. Even if she knew where he was. Azral and the king’s guard would kill them if they returned. Or worse, what if they were trapped? Nothing could be done to stop it. “So the reaping?”

  “It’s close,” he answered. “It won’t be long.”

  Not long enough. “If I can just see Riley first, to tell him goodbye…”

  Hunter closed his eyes, another apology. “The army are quarantining the Marked. They don’t know what it means.”

  It felt like one more punch in the gut, and Mackenzie stepped into Hunter’s arms, desperate for support. “And it won’t work,” she said.

  “No,” Hunter answered, his chin resting over the crown of her head. “That plan assumes there is no force that can draw them here. Your army and those around the world are entirely unprepared for what will happen. Even what measures they’ve taken are with the assumption they will only be fighting what Iron Bound are already on this side. They’ve no protection from the rest of us. Hundreds of thousands will be Marked and taken in the blink of an eye.”