Huntress

by Elizabeth Hartwell

  Cerena looks especially pissed, her eyes blazing as she stares at me, but I’m not going to back down. “Listen, if you want me to take one more step with you three, you’re going to tell me what you know. All of it.”

  Cerena crosses her arms over her chest but finally nods, sighing. “Fine. Tym, Lance, come on. We walk while I explain. Good enough?”

  I nod, and we start going again, not dawdling along but not pushing as hard as we were before.

  “What do you remember?” Cerena asks. “About yourself, your past. You said you know your name and you can fight a bit. What else?”

  “Nothing,” I admit. “It’s like . . . last night, as we fled through the night, I could get snippets, little pictures in my head, but I couldn’t make a connection. In one, I could see a man, but I don’t have any, what do you call it . . . context. He’s just a picture of a man in my head. Is he someone important? I don’t know. He didn’t look like me except we have the same hair color, so I doubt we’re related. So who is he? A friend, an enemy . . . he could be an old teacher of mine, for all I know.”

  “Doubtful,” Lance replies. “There are no schools in Bane. Not really.”

  Cerena nods. “Either way then, you’re a blank slate right now. From what I know, that can happen after a head trauma. I had that happen once, got knocked out in training. Most of the time, it comes back to you, and most of it does come back. But here’s what I know. There are gods in the world.”

  “Gods?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re not going to try and convert me to the one truth path now, are you?”

  “No, and shut up. Listen,” Cerena urges me, “because I didn’t know some of this shit until a few days ago myself. There are gods. The ones you need to concern yourself with are Bane and Sulis.”

  Tym’s and Lance’s eyebrows both move up at the second name. Obviously, this is new to them as well. “Cerena?”

  “Sorry, guys,” she says, looking over at them, “Elizabeth told me it’s a secret. But since you two have saved my ass more than once, and Brandon here needs to understand why we’re hauling ass through this wasteland, I’m going to trust you.”

  “And if the Elder finds out?” Tym asks, causing Cerena to shrug. “Okay then.”

  “Elders, Elizabeth, Bane, Sulis . . . can we please refocus so you’re not just throwing word salad at me?” I demand. “Fuck, I’m going to have a headache if this keeps up.”

  “Alright, fine. Here’s the skinny. After a big fucking nuclear war that pretty much wiped out most of humanity, it seems that the gods, who had until then been more or less kept from stirring the pot too much, were allowed to help out the tattered remnants of their soon to be failed experiment,” Cerena spits out, her eyes flashing. “One of them, Bane, is a real dickhead. In addition to being the god of death and darkness, he’s more or less angling for the top dawg position among the gods and for being a living, breathing eternal ruler of earth as well.”

  “Swell guy,” I mutter, although the idea of being the omnipotent ruler of all I survey certainly sounds like it has its perks.

  “Yeah, well, to do that, he needs a body. You see, the main way that the gods helped humanity survive the aftermath of the war was to literally fuck with them. They dipped their wicks into a lot of different pots, and in Bane’s case, he’s probably responsible for the creation of vampires and werewolves.”

  “The gods . . . bred paranormals?” I ask, totally unbelieving. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “It explains these two,” Cerena says, and I glance over at Tym and Lance. Lance, still giving me the stink eye, flips me off while blowing me a kiss.

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Nope,” Lance says. “Grandson of Loki, and he’s the grandson of Tyr.”

  “What . . . these gods have a name thing going?” I ask mockingly. “Next, you’re going to tell me I’m the grandson of Bane himself since my name starts with a B.”

  Silence greets me, and Lance and Tym stop, looking at Cerena in shock. It pulls me to a stop, and I look at her in disbelief as well. “You’re insane. I’m in the middle of the Scorched Earth being led on a merry quest by an insane woman.”

  “Not his grandson . . . more like his great-great-great grandson, best as Elizabeth told me,” Cerena admits. “You see, you’re supposed to be a cross-breed.”

  “Excuse me?” I ask, and for the next ten minutes, Cerena explains while the four of us keep walking. It’s nuts, it’s one hundred percent impossibly stupid to listen to . . . but she’s totally convinced.

  “So, what . . . I was kidnapped by Lucian in order to be, what, some sort of cum factory for crossbreeding purposes?” I finally ask. “But why would you guys even care? And why not just shoot me then?”

  “I’ve been tempted,” Lance says. “Trust me, I’ve known you less than twelve hours and I’m mighty fucking tempted.”

  Cerena holds up a hand. “It doesn’t matter. Our mission is to get you out of Bane and away from his disciples. We’re going to escort you to Solace, and what happens after that doesn’t really matter to me.”

  We walk in silence, going up and over a hill and down the other side where things are at least a little greener. In the distance, I can see a small farm, not much, but something. “You guys have the wrong man,” I tell Cerena after maybe fifteen minutes or so. “There’s no way I’m connected to Bane’s bloodline, if this asshole even exists.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I’m just a regular guy,” I reply. “Listen, you said that Brick and Shithouse over there are the grandsons of gods. They’ve got powers, right? I mean, Tym said he’s this magical lockpicker because apparently, his grandfather’s the god of locks. Even goes and draws that symbol, like a circle with a hardon means a key or something. And Lance can stop time, right?”

  “Correct,” Cerena says. “And?”

  “I can’t do any of that! I have a decent punch because I’m strong, and I’m strong because . . . well . . . I think I’ve had a hard life. I’m strong because I’ve had to be, not because I’m related to the god of death!”

  Cerena shrugs. “Elizabeth said to find you. You match the profile she gave me. So you’re getting an all-expenses-paid relocation from the shitpits of Bane to Solace. Trust me, it’s a major upgrade.”

  I sigh, looking up at the fiercely blue sky with distrust and frustration. “Are you fucking even listening to me? I don’t have powers. I don’t have any paranormal skills! I’m just a normal human! Or at least as normal as apparently it gets in this new world where supposedly, the gods have come down and started getting their freak on with us. Speaking of which, which god supposedly fucked your grandmother?”

  Cerena stops, and I can see I’ve pushed her too far. “My ancestors were the lucky ones. They got to spend a hundred-plus years living in a fucking fallout shelter and came out to a world filled with the worst refugees of their darkest mythology, dick face. My grandmother spent from her fourth birthday until the day she died training, defending, and fighting for the last pure strain of humanity left in this fucked-up forsaken world. She didn’t fuck a god. She got fucked by this entire world!”

  “Then why do you fucking care what happens to me? Just let me fucking walk away,” I demand. “Because I’m not who you think I am.”

  Cerena shakes her head, and I can see she wants to fight me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lance and Tym stop, and they’re probably thinking the same thing. I wonder, if things do pop off, will they jump in on me too?

  “Listen . . . Brandon,” Cerena finally says, making my name sound like the deepest, filthiest curse she can muster up, “it doesn’t matter. I have orders. And you’re going to stay with us because first, you’re useful in a fight. You’ve shown that. And with Lucian’s pack on our ass, we’re going to need you.”

  “Glad to know I’m wanted.”

  “But,” she says, holding up a finger again like she’s the fucking queen, “you need to understand your place on this tea
m. There’s only one person in command. Me. I’m the team leader, and you will listen and obey my orders.”

  “The fuck I will!” I fume. “I might not know much, but I can tell you this. I don’t take orders from anyone. I give them. And if I’m going to stick around here, it’s not being bitch boy to some girl who thinks her swords make her the goddamn boss!”

  She moves . . . fast. Before I can do anything, Cerena’s flipped me over her shoulder to the ground, and I can hear a faint electronic whine from the gloves she’s wearing, her eyes blazing with rage. “Listen to me, and listen to me well, son of darkness. I’m not just some girl with a sword. I’m a fucking Huntress. And if I have to, I will break your arms, your legs, and your spine in order to have Tym carry your crippled ass all the way back to Solace. You can spend a month in the autodoc. I don’t give a shit.”

  I try to pull away, but whatever it is in those gloves, she’s got an unbreakable grip on my shoulder that won’t let up. I punch at her forearm, but it still doesn’t move. “Fuck . . . let me go, you crazy bitch! I’m not going to take orders from some psycho!”

  Cerena sighs and cocks her other hand back, but before she can punch me, Tym intervenes and catches her arm, lifting her off me. Her hand pulls free in a burning rip that makes me grunt in pain, but before I can move, Lance is there, a knife at my throat.

  “Don’t move, for your own sake,” Lance says quietly, all jokes forgotten. I watch as Tym carries Cerena ten yards away, setting her down and talking with her quietly before she storms away. He looks at Lance, nodding, and Lance takes his knife away. He looks down at me, cracking a feral grin. “Next time, I won’t pause my knife.”

  “There won’t be a next time,” I growl, sitting up as Lance backs away. “I can promise you that.”

  “Perhaps . . . but in the meantime, it’s your turn to carry the backpack.”

  I’m tempted to tell them all to go to hell, but looking around, I’m pretty sure we’re next door to it already. Instead, I get to my feet, dusting off my coat. “How can you let her boss you around like that?”

  Lance laughs. “First, she’s the boss, but she’s not an empress. For a Hunter, she’s pretty open-minded. Maybe you’ll understand that eventually. Secondly, she’s got a lot of good points to her as well. And frankly, Solace is paying me enough holochips that even if it wasn’t for all the fringe benefits, I’d still figure out a way to deal with this mission.”

  “Deal with me?” I ask, and Lance nods, passing me the pack. I slip it on, adjusting the straps to my larger chest and shoulders, and we start off again.

  “Yup. Just one thing, though. If you risk Cerena’s life, Tym’s life, or my life at all during this trip back . . . ain’t enough holochips in the world to stop me from leaving you for dead on the Scorched Earth,” he says. “You see, I look at it this way. If you’re supposed to be this being that Bane wants to use to be reborn in some immortal physical body, I think the solution is pretty clear.”

  I nod, knowing the same thought’s been running around in my head too. “Yeah. Well, at least you’re honest about it.”

  Lance nods. “It’s what a trickster does.”

  Chapter 26

  Cerena

  There’s still an hour or so of daylight left, but as we approach the farm, I lift my hand, calling a halt to things. “That’s enough for the day. I doubt we’re going to find a better defensive position than here.”

  Tym, who’s been carrying the backpack for the past hour, shrugs it off while Lance checks out the buildings. The place looks abandoned, the fields that I had hoped were green with food when we first saw it two hours ago as a blurry splotch on the horizon have turned out to be green with overrun weeds. Not pleasant ones either, but twisted, mutated things that I suspect would turn our stomachs sour before killing us painfully if we tried to make a salad out of them.

  Still, we need to check, and when Lance comes back in two minutes, he gives me a thumbs-up. “Barn and main house are deserted, all right. I spied a few outbuildings, and there might be some stuff in the barn, but it looks like we’re alone.”

  “Fine, let’s take the main house and try to bunker in there,” I say, heading toward it. I see Brandon open his mouth to make another of the hundred snarky protests that he’s done since I kicked his ass this morning, but before he can say anything, Lance claps him on the shoulder.

  “Brandon, I think you and I should check out some of the outbuildings and the main house for supplies, see if we can find something left behind or to help with defenses,” he says, and in my heart, I thank Lance deeply. “If you don’t mind, Cerena?”

  “No . . . I think that’s a good idea. Tym and I will check the barn,” I reply. “We can decide then which is the better shelter for the night.”

  Lance leads Brandon away while Tym and I head into the barn. It’s relatively big, at least two floors, and before the mutant weeds got in here, I suspect this farm was quite productive. There’s at least fifteen stalls for animals, and the wooden beams leading up to the second-floor hayloft are strong and sure. “This didn’t happen all that long ago.”

  “No . . . I’d heard stories of a mutant weed spreading,” Tym says as he follows me up, “but I hadn’t seen it. Does Solace have this problem?”

  “No . . . our farms use genehacked seeds,” I reply. “So far, they can push aside just about anything to flourish in the ground. Even if there is an outbreak, though, the Hunters have a way to survive.”

  “What’s that?” Tym asks as we reach the top of the stairs. There’s not much up here, but I suspect that Tym didn’t lead me up here to really search for anything useful. Other than a few scraps, the barn’s pretty picked over anyway, although I suppose the prybar I saw downstairs could make a decent weapon in Tym’s hands. “Cerena?”

  “Huh?” I reply and realize I’m distracted. “Sorry, Tym. The weeds . . . well, we’ve still got growth vats and a team of scientists that produces strains of algae to eat that can provide all you need. The tanks are large enough to produce enough for ten thousand people if needed.”

  “Algae . . . your backup plan is algae. Interesting.”

  I grin and pat my stomach. “Don’t knock it. You ate that stuff for most of the trip to Bane. What do you think Hunter rations are made of? It’s compact, gene edited to allow it to be pretty much a superfood, and grows quickly. Best of all, through a series of intermediary algae growths, it’s fed with Solace’s sewer waste.”

  “It eats sewage . . . and makes food?”

  “After a few steps,” I admit. We come to a large door, and I open it, looking out over a dramatic view. From this angle, the weeds still look like natural growth, and in the distance are the northern mountains, which are beautiful this time of year. There’s a little bit of snow on the tallest peaks, just barely visible in the distance, and I know once that melts, it’ll start the long journey toward replenishing the rivers and aquifers here in the Scorched Earth. Still, while I sit down, I’m not able to feel at peace.

  Tym sits next to me. “You’re still upset.”

  I nod, and he shrugs off his coat, planting his hands on the edge of the loft as he lets his legs dangle out into space. I mirror him, looking out into the distance. “You know how you meet someone, and there’s this sort of . . . spark?” I ask. “And you’re not sure what it means, but it always ends up one of two ways. Either it’s someone you’re going to keep in your life forever, or it’s someone that you’re going to hate with such an acidic, visceral intensity that you never want to deal with them again?”

  “Ah, you’ve met my aunt and uncle,” Tym says quietly, smiling when I chuckle. “They were like oil and water but at the same time madly in love.”

  “Yeah, well, Brandon and I are never going to be in love,” I growl. “He doesn’t listen, he talks back constantly, and even when he doesn’t, he looks at me like I don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about! He doesn’t want to be part of this team!”

  Tym chuckles. “You know, your re
putation as a Huntress is quite similar to what you just said about Brandon. I bet if I found some of the senior Hunters, they’d say you talk back constantly, don’t listen, and you definitely don’t want to be part of a team.”

  “Perhaps I just didn’t want to be a team player, but a team leader?” I ask, and Tym chuckles. “What?”

  “There is an old saying. To be a good leader, you must first learn to be a good follower. I don’t know if it is correct, but just a little over a week ago, you told Lance and I that you didn’t like teams. In fact, you hated the idea of working with us at first and only accepted it because we knew Bane.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So, have things changed?” he asks quietly. “Do you still hate teams?”

  I sigh, shaking my head. “It’s not a matter of liking teams or disliking teams, Tym. I have no specific feelings either way on that matter. But for me, I need teammates I can trust. I’ve never found that with other Hunters, except for maybe my mentor. But anyone else? I don’t like teams because I haven’t been able to trust the people around me enough to put my life in their hands.”

  Tym nods and looks out at the sun, which is just starting to color the western sky. “And now?”

  There’s something in the way he asks that makes me pause, and I reflect on what I know about Tym. He’s so commanding in his own way, usually by being the example that everyone can turn to. He’s never tired, never angry, always strong. Even when he was nearly crippled by his fear, he still tried to be the example. If he is a leader, he’s a leader in the most honest way.

  “You and Lance are good fighters. You’re resourceful, and you’ve helped me a lot.”

  Tym nods. “Is that all?”

  Wow, talk about getting heavy, but looking at Tym, I don’t feel like he’s putting any pressure on me. It’s like he just wants me to be honest and open with him. I suspect my keeping the secret about Brandon’s bloodline from him hurt him a lot.