Demon Dawn

by M. J. Haag

  “We split everything,” Ryan said, and I saw he wasn’t the only one watching the Thallirin-Brenna spectacle. “And he is right. We usually leave three or four behind to guard the trucks so we don’t come back to a dead engine or a truck full of infected.”

  I was determined, maybe a little stubborn, but not stupid. When Dad had been alive, we would leave Mom to guard the vehicle while we went in for supplies. It made sense to leave the person with the most limitations behind. Mom, despite all of her independence, just couldn’t make it into some houses because of her chair. Likewise, although I could shoot as accurately as most of the fey, I couldn’t run as fast or carry as much. And, apparently, a vagina really was a disability.

  Barely refraining from rolling my eyes, I conceded.

  “Fine.”

  Zach gave me a questioning look.

  “Go. You know what to look for. Just make sure someone’s watching your back.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Ryan said.

  “You better.”

  He nodded, and Zach and the others left in the arms of the fey. I wondered how Zach really felt about all the rides he was getting. I needed to ask him if he minded all the manhandling.

  “You’ll have a better view from the roof,” Thallirin said. “It will hold your weight.”

  With an audibly aggrieved sigh, I scrambled up to the roof and used my scarf to secure my hood to my head. The wind battered at me as I carefully watched our surroundings. With the trees set further back from the road on both sides, I had a clear view of any immediate danger. Not that there was any. The fields and trees here remained just as quiet as they had back home.

  I felt myself getting cold despite my layers. When I guarded the wall, I moved. A lot. On the narrow platform of the truck’s roof, there wasn’t room to take more than a step or two.

  “We need to guard the truck, he says,” I mumbled under my breath. “More like uselessly freeze my ass off.” I bounced lightly in place and blew on my hands.

  “If you’re cold, sit inside the truck,” Thallirin said.

  “Your common sense is useless on me. I’m just a child, remember?”

  A grunt came from the other side of the truck, and I turned to glare at the other fey.

  “You have some sage wisdom to add to this conversation?”

  The fey shook his head and continued his walk along the trucks.

  I stubbornly remained on the roof. I honestly didn’t mind guard duty so long as Zach and I got a fair share of the supplies. And, despite Zach’s teen boy weirdness about Mom wanting birth control, I knew that he would come through for her if there was any to be found. What I minded was being managed.

  The bracing wind didn’t let up for a second the entire time the group was gone. When a few of the fey started returning with supplies and left again with stacks of empty totes, I called it good and climbed into the truck and locked the doors.

  Thallirin and the other fey left me alone for a while. The amount of time I stared at the keys in the ignition bordered on insane. Did I really care if letting the truck idle would draw infected? They wouldn’t be my problem. They would be Thallirin’s; and in my state of glacial rage, I thought he’d earned himself a few well-placed bites for putting me in this position in the first place.

  However, no matter how much the idea of warm hands and feet tempted me, I didn’t reach for the keys. I pulled my arms from my sleeves and stuck them under my armpits while drawing my knees to my chest.

  Thallirin knocked on my window, interrupting my daydream of sipping warm, dog food-free, soup.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked through the glass.

  “No. I’m cold because you made me stay here instead of letting me run for my life in the streets of Hasenpfeffer or wherever the fuck we are. Go away so I can succumb to hypothermia quietly.”

  I stuck my tongue out at him like the child he believed me to be then ducked further into my hoodie.

  “Open the door, or I will break the window.” He said it so annoyingly calmly that I had no doubt he would do it to get to me.

  “I can’t. My hands are in my armpits. And if you break the window, glass is going to come flying in here and cut me. That’s not a very good way to show you care. Plus, no windows will make me even colder. If you’d told me I would have been standing still outside for hours, I would have dressed differently. More layers. Instead, I dressed as if I was going to move.”

  I pushed back the hood to scowl at him.

  “You do realize I survived this shit storm before you showed up. I’m not some helpless female who just lucked out. I fought for my life. I went into houses, killed infected with a knife, and took supplies, just like they’re doing in town now. How else do you think I ate?”

  “You no longer need to fight. I will fight for you.”

  Angry, I shoved my hand back through the sleeve and slapped my palm on the window, right over his face. He didn’t even flinch.

  “You’re frustrating the hell out of me. Please go away before I break the window myself.”

  He looked at my hand and lifted his own to cover mine through the glass. That I could immediately feel his heat, surprised me. As did the way he slowly curled his hand into a fist, then left me to shiver in silence.

  Miserable didn’t describe how I felt when I finally heard a voice call out. Like a turtle emerging from her shell, I peeked out of my jacket and saw the majority of the group jogging our way. The fey carried laden totes, and the humans carried whatever they could. Thallirin stepped up to relieve Garrett of his burden. Garrett nodded his thanks and made a beeline for the truck.

  “Your lips are blue,” he said when he climbed into his seat and shut the door.

  “And my ass is thoroughly chapped.”

  He chuckled and started the engine.

  “If it helps, we cleared at least four blocks of houses and found a few roasts that still look good.”

  “It helps a little,” I said with exaggerated sullenness.

  “Any trouble other than Thallirin while we were gone?”

  “No.” I stuck my hands in front of the heater vent, hoping for hot air, and looked in the mirror to see everyone loading up the supplies. “Why is our truck the only one running? Aren’t they worried the noise will draw attention?”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem with all of the fey out there and us safely in here.”

  “You didn’t answer my first question.”

  “Thallirin asked me to. He’s worried you got too cold.”

  I groaned and thumped my head against the headrest.

  “Not a Thallirin fan?” Garrett asked.

  “Not an anyone-with-a-penis fan, honestly.”

  “Ah.”

  “No offense.”

  “None taken. I’m guessing you’ve tried telling Thallirin that?”

  “I have. The fey hear what they want.”

  “You might want to try talking to Angel. She seems to have no problem speaking their language.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, thinking back to how Angel had gotten through to Thallirin the first time he’d tried stopping me from leaving Tolerance.

  After everything was loaded, we started home.

  “What was it like in town?” I asked. “As quiet as everywhere else?”

  “No. There were a fair number of infected, but none of the recently-turned, slow ones.”

  “Not sure if that’s a good or bad thing.”

  “My thoughts exactly. I hope that doesn’t mean we’re all that’s left of humanity.”

  “Me too.” I kicked off my boots and put my toes directly over the vents. “Tomorrow, I’m putting hand warmers in my boots.”

  “You’re coming back?”

  “Yep. I’m grateful for the supplies that are delivered to our door every few days, but I want something more than dog food and chicken noodle soup. I want cereal again. Pancakes. Real meat. I’d kill for a piece of bacon.”

  “You sound like Angel. All she has to
do is say she’s hungry for something, and Shax manages to find it for her. You should leave a note for your admirer. He’ll probably get you what you want.”

  I frowned at Garrett.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He glanced at me before watching the road ahead once more.

  “Uh, I don’t get supply deliveries. If I need something, I go for a supply run or check the food shed. That’s where the fey put any extras. I usually trade whatever I have for whatever I want.”

  I stared at the road ahead and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in my middle. When we’d arrived at Tolerance weeks ago, Molev had taken us to our new home and promised we would be protected and fed. There’d been food in the house already, and before we’d gotten too low, a supply box had appeared on the step. No one had told us about a damn food shed or that there weren’t deliveries going out to all the houses. I’d never thought to ask. That there was a love-smitten fey responsible for all the food we’d been getting made me want to swear.

  Glancing out the window, I looked at the back of Thallirin’s head. His black hair was longer than most of the other fey but was decorated with the same thin braids at the sides. The first time I’d seen him hadn’t been long after we’d arrived in Tolerance. A few days, maybe. How had I not realized before this? All the watching me. The food choices in the box. The timing of the deliveries.

  “This has got to stop.”

  “What?” Garrett asked.

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Thallirin glanced back then and met my gaze. I turned away and closed my eyes, already knowing what Thallirin wanted in exchange for the food he’d been giving us. He wouldn’t get it. Ever.

  For the rest of the ride, I seethed and plotted. When the truck finally stopped in front of Tenacity’s wall, I was warm once more and ready to face off with Thallirin. He wasn’t at my door waiting for me, though.

  Jumping to the ground in relief, I walked around to the back of the supply truck where Ryan directed the division of the supplies. It was the first time I really got a look at anyone who’d gone into town. Most of the fey were covered in blood and gore, and I knew Garrett’s assessment of the infected presence had been downplayed.

  Spotting Zach, I jogged over to him. Unlike many of the others, he was spotless.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah. It was crazy in town but worth it. Look at these supplies.”

  I did. The totes weren’t filled with random stuff like the day before but chocked full of all forms of food. There had to be close to two hundred totes on the ground when everything was unloaded

  “Take sixty totes over the wall for Tenacity,” Ryan said. “We’ll divide the rest when we get home.”

  Sixty seemed like a lot, but given the number of people Matt was trying to feed, I knew it wouldn’t last long. After the fey delivered the supplies, they started leaving, some with as many as three totes stacked in their arms.

  “Zach, hold this,” a fey said, handing my brother a tote. As soon as Zach had it, the fey picked him up.

  “Give a guy some warning,” Zach grouched. “The tote’s sitting on my nuts.”

  Several of the fey around me made pained sounds.

  “Sorry,” the fey said as Zach shifted the weight and looked at me.

  “You getting a ride?” he asked.

  “I will carry your sister,” Thallirin said from behind me.

  I glanced at him.

  “I do not have any infected blood on me. It’s safe.”

  Facing Zach, I lifted a shoulder.

  “No, no ride for me again.”

  “I can stay with you,” Zach said. We both knew that Mom wasn’t going to be happy with my choice.

  “Nah, go with Ryan and watch how the supplies are divided. You can take our portion home so Mom can start dinner.”

  He nodded, and they took off. I didn’t wait for the rest of the fey to leave but started out. Thallirin followed me in silence. Fey passed us with supplies, running at impressive speeds toward home. I watched the last of them with a scowl. They hadn’t been carrying a damn thing and had looked clean enough to me.

  Like the day before, the journey was long and quiet. The wind wasn’t as bad as it had been at the top of the truck, though, and with a steady pace, I stayed warm enough. It was good cardio, too.

  Before we reached the end of the third field, I spotted a shape running toward us. I lifted my bow off my shoulder and reached for an arrow.

  Thallirin’s very warm hand closed over mine.

  “It’s Drav,” he said before releasing me.

  Settling the bow once more, I watched Drav approach. His frown was more pronounced than usual.

  “I will carry you,” he said, barely coming to a stop before scooping me up.

  My weight landed wrong on my bow, which he’d picked up with me, and I heard the wood crack. Before I could react, he grabbed the bow out from under me, tossed it aside, and started running.

  I didn’t think; I reacted. My elbow smashed into his windpipe with enough force that his hold loosened. As he wheezed for breath, I struggled free and tumbled to the ground with an oof. Not wasting time, I scrambled back to my bow and fell to my knees in the snow.

  The shaft looked undamaged at first glance, but I knew better. I’d heard the crack and had felt the wood give underneath me. Too afraid to pick it up, I leaned over it and scanned the length again. A hairline fracture bisected the upper limb just above the grip. My chest squeezed at the sight of it. There was no fixing that. I sniffled.

  It was dumb to cry over a bow. Nothing lasted forever. I knew that. But, that damn bow was my last connection with Dad. We’d picked it out before the quakes, and using it made me feel like he was still watching over me.

  I looked up at the two fey who watched me warily.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you people? What did I do to deserve being treated like this?”

  “I will replace the bow,” Drav said.

  “It was from my dad. You can’t replace sentimental value.” I picked up the bow in both hands. “I’m guessing there was a sense of urgency in getting me back before dark. I’m ready now. I don’t think there’s anything else for you to break.”

  Drav glanced at Thallirin then picked me up again and started running. I didn’t pay attention to the trees like I should have. I kept thinking of the broken bow. It’d been stupid to throw a fit. What if he’d been trying to save me from a horde of infected? Maybe it was for the best that the bow was broken. Being that emotionally attached to something was a dangerous distraction I couldn’t afford. Yet, I still ached that it was broken.

  When we cleared Tolerance’s wall, instead of setting me down, Drav continued to run. A sick ball of worry formed in my stomach.

  “Where are we going? Is my mom okay?”

  “Mya wants to speak with you.”

  He stopped in front of his house and let me enter on my own two feet. Mya was sitting in the living room, a trash can at her side and a book in her lap. Nothing about her position or expression looked urgent.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, moving into the room.

  The door closed, and I looked back to see that we were alone.

  “I just wanted to talk to you for a minute. How was today’s supply run?”

  I slowly turned to face her, my thumb smoothing over the fracture in the bow.

  “I’m here for an idle chat?”

  “Well, not entirely idle. Please, have a seat. I’m feeling awkward enough, and you standing over me like that isn’t going to make this any easier.”

  Despite my anger, I sat with my bow resting on my knees and waited to hear her out.

  “The fey are upset about the way you’re treating Thallirin. Purposely ignoring him. Saying rude things. Thallirin has sacrificed so much to be part of their brotherhood again, and they won't turn their backs on him. Not even for you.”

  That’s why my bow had been broken? Because of fucking hurt feelings? I used my
panic-attack method of breathing to calm down enough to answer rationally.

  “I’m not asking them to turn their backs on anyone. I’m fine using my own two legs to get to Tenacity and back.”

  “They just want to see Thallirin happy.”

  “And I’m not caving to community preference and spreading my legs to make that happen.”

  She had the decency to look shocked.

  “That’s not at all what I’m suggesting!”

  “It is. You know it is. I’ve tried to pull my weight. I guard the walls, doing my part. So does Zach. Molev said it didn’t matter that Mom was in a chair. He promised we would be safe and protected. Instead, I’m being bullied into picking a fey for a partner.”

  I stood.

  “Matt said we’d be welcome there. I think it’s time I mention that to my mom.”

  I moved to leave then turned back to Mya.

  “Oh, and as an example of the bullying, Drav didn’t ask to carry me here. He told me what he was doing then grabbed me, breaking my bow in the process. This bow was the last thing I had from my dad. Maybe you’ll be able to understand the significance of that more than they seem to be able to.”

  “Brenna, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Be different. I know you’re pro fey, but don’t forget they aren’t the only people depending on you.”

  I left her house, and as I walked home, I considered my conversation with Mya and my options. Living at Tenacity wouldn’t be easier for any of us. In fact, it would be harder. The last few days had proven that. Yet, I refused to continue like this. Where did that leave me?

  Heat and the scent of dinner enveloped me when I walked in.

  “I’m home.”

  “You’re back early,” Mom called as I started peeling off layers.

  “Yeah. Drav carried me back. I broke my bow.”

  There was a beat of silence.

  “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Can we fix it?”

  “No. The upper limb fractured just above the riser. I’ll need to use yours tomorrow.” I finished kicking off my boots and entered the kitchen to find Mom silently crying as she cut meat into little cubes.

  “Those better be tears of joy that we’re having real meat tonight.”