Alive Like Us

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Alive Like Us Page 4

by Quinn Hallows

I should finish them both. She’d only ever killed Infected before, but it was what her father would want. She had to protect Erling, and that meant neutralizing any threats. She needed her axe to do it. It was the best way to ensure a body wouldn’t reanimate and remind her of what an idiot she’d been.

  She stalked towards the Bone Boy.

  “Heyheyhey, now—hold on a minute. Let’s not be hasty.” Zane limped backward. Sweat glazed his face and the skin beneath his black tattoos was stark white. “I’d like to point out that I’ve been rooting for you to punch him for a while.”

  Sanna ignored his diversion. “Are there only two of you, or did you bring the whole gang?”

  “Every. Last. One.” He said, relishing each word. “Except that boy your father turned to crowbait last year. Must have been real hard to overpower a child.”

  “We didn’t kill him. We tried to help him, but it was too late he fell. The body was supposed to be a warning.” She hadn’t agreed with what they’d done, it’d made her sick and now there was no way to prove they didn’t slaughter him. Sanna buried the troubling thoughts. The boy was dead, and she’d soon be too if she didn’t get her act together.

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

  “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 Bone Boy onto his knees, pressing her axe into 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.”

  “Yeah,” she glared down 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 to me.”

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

  Silver flashed at the edge of her vision, but it was too late. Pain ripped through Sanna’s 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.

  “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.

  She’d never been wounded this badly. In truth, she’d never been wounded at all. 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 shouted, wrenching her arm free.

  Cloth ripped. Zane must be bandaging his own wound

  “Listen!” Nico gripped her shoulder, shaking her. “There’ll be more 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 fanned his fingers 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 by yourself.”

  “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, yelped and stumbled. 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 earlier had disappeared. 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. They glided like shadows over the fallen trees and rocks, their tattooed faces muted with the same ash paint.

  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 backwards, 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 down on the other side. Blood pooled inside her boot. She had to stop it. Holding her breath, she wrenched off the boot. 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 sank down beside 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.

  Boots crunched in the snow. Sanna peered around the boulder and saw the Bone Boys 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 tight, and unsheathed the dagger hidden in her boot.

  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. “She’s close.”

  “What about Lucas?�
� A man behind him asked.

  Nico tensed, his lips pressed into a grim line.

  “I told Zane not to trust the guy. He probably ran back to New Hope."

  “Razor will get him real good. Right, Big Sam?” Another one asked.

  Big Sam scowled. “He’ll stick us too if we don’t bring him that girl.”.

  “Yeah, well, where’d she go?”

  One of the Bone Boys peeled off from the group, 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!” One of the Bone Boys cried. “Behind that rock!”

  I will not let myself be captured. Not after the stories she’d heard. To think she’d been dating one of their own.

  She drew in a steadying breath. Her father had taught her that in moments of chaos the coolest head would win. She pressed her spine further into the rock and whispered a silent prayer of deliverance.

  Nico rose, a fierce cry ripping from his throat. She followed his lead, gritting her teeth at the sharp jab of pain in her foot. She swung her axe high, prepared to fight to the gory end...and froze.

  The Bone Boys stood before her, their black 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. Only an Infected could do this.

  But how? They were supposed to be hibernating. Harmless as statues. She was always part of the crew that scoured the woods in early winter, bashing all they could find to smithereens. She swallowed. Maybe they’d missed one.

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

  Okay, maybe two.

  She scanned the forest for any sign, but the snow-draped trees only seemed to close in around her, hemming her in. Her skin prickled with awareness. They were out there, all right. Patient predators, watching their prey.

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

  “Close ranks! Close ranks!” The Bone Boy leader 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 the trees, answered by a chorus of choking coughs.

  “There’s so many...why aren’t they hibernating? What if—it’s a horde,” a Bone Boy whispered. His voice rose in panic. “A HORDE!”

  “Shut up!” the leader snapped.

  “We’re screwed,” someone sobbed. “We’re lunch.”

  “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 judgement. 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,” their leader whispered. “Or I’ll gut you myself.”

  Snowflakes drifted down from the sky in thick white curtain. The sight of them struck her. The Infected shouldn’t be awake in this cold. She’d have to tell Raj—they’d needed to start reinforcing walls, setting strick 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, his chapped lips peeled into a menacing smile. His gums had receded, and long, pointed teeth crowded his mouth.

  Six more stage ones materialized from the forest and flanked him.

  The first Infected took a step towards her. Sanna braced for battle, adrenaline flooding her veins. This wasn’t good. She didn’t want to die here, with a bunch of stinking, tattooed rejects. All because of Nico’s lies. There had to be a way...

  The Infected was almost within striking distance. Odd. Why hadn’t they fallen onto Nico’s body in a frenzy? It was as if she held their complete attention. Or maybe there wasn’t enough carnage to tempt them.

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

  Sanna whirled around and buried her axe into the leader’s shoulder. Blood gushed onto her face as she grabbed hold of his arm and shoved him toward the Infected with a bitter war cry.

  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, pressing her free hand to her lips to stifle the sound. At the top of the next ridge she caught her breath. Her injured foot ached. She glanced behind her. The small gorge was teeming with 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 of that pierced her skin like frozen needles. She spotted Erling’s red flags flapping in the wind, promising refuge to all who crossed over.

  She was close. So close.

  She imagined the Infected’s blood-soaked claws reaching for her, its ravenous mouth gaping open. She glanced over her shoulder. Now three of them 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 felt wobbly. Her breath ragged. She gritted 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 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!”

  S
houts echoed on 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 onto the ground. Her forehead banged against a stone hidden beneath the snow. A warm stream of blood trickled down her temple. She struggled up to face her assailant but saw only whiteness. Ice and snow needled her face

  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. She willed her legs to stand, to move, to fight, but 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.

  Footsteps crunched through the snow, drawing nearer. 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. She felt frantic, an animal trapped in a tight cage.

  Somewhere metal clanked. The soldiers were closing in. 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.

 

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