Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel (35 page)

When his opponent was close enough, Harlan mule-kicked him in the knee. The leg cracked like dry twigs and bent the wrong way. "For Hammer."

Titan slammed into him.

Harlan went down. Heat raced across his belly and his hand came up red. The bastard had cut him. Harlan shoved him off and rolled on top.

The blade flashed in his peripheral vision.

After several quick chops to Titan's wrist, the knife went sailing. Harlan played rock, strangle, pummel inside his head.

Fear widened the asshole's eyes.

A shadow drifted across the arena.

Brolyn towered over Harlan, holding his crossbow. "For Mirabelle."

Was this a trick? The rules stated only knives could be used.

She smiled. "Since Titan is no longer a 'Vider, the code doesn't apply."

Harlan took the crossbow. Would it even work at this range?

"No! Don't." Titan squirmed, shoved the tip of the arrow away. "I'll leave."

"Leave." Harlan rolled off the man. Hardly seemed fitting to kill the sniveling little worm when he was already down. He lifted his shirt, inspected the bloody slit along his belly. No doubt about it, he'd been got good. Guess that was the price of cocky.

The 'Viders booed.

Served them right if he deprived them of their blood. Of course, given his enemy...

Titan staggered to his feet, hopped around Harlan's feet. In one motion, Titan picked up the knife and turned. "Fool."

Harlan pulled the crossbow's trigger. The arrow flew through Titan's chest and exploded out his back. Harlan rolled away as the body fell. Dusting himself off, he rose to his feet. "Sorry, I don't think I got the trajectory right on that one."

Something collided with his back. Arms wrapped around his waist. "Dammit Harry, don't do that again."

He hissed as Belle’s fingers touched his wound. "Just didn't want you thinking I had anything to do with your sons' deaths."

Brolyn strode forward and kicked Titan over. He stared unseeing at the sky. "Display this vermin for our enemies to see."

Two men shuttled forward and carried the body away.

A big man stepped into the clearing. "I challenge the raider in a fight to the death."

Three others joined him.

Then four.

Christ. Harlan raked his fingers through his hair. They were planning to kill him after all.

Chapter 40

Belle stepped in front of Harlan and faced the crowd. They couldn't challenge him to another fight, not now. He was hurt and she wouldn't lose him; she'd just found him. "'Vider Brolyn."

The woman raised her hand and silence immediately descended. "'Vider Harlan's kills were all in Juror approved combat."

Mumbling drifted through the mob. 'Viders pulled knifes from boots, machetes from belts and swords from scabbards.

"He just wasn't on our side. Now that the raider knows his true place as a 'Vider, he will fight with, teach us this weapon." Brolyn raised his crossbow in the air. "And with it in our hands, the streets of Abaddon will run red with our enemies blood."

Belle winced at the cheers. Would it ever stop? Even with the pens overflowing, the 'Viders wanted more. How many people needed to die to satisfy their hunger?

Harlan couldn't save her; she'd saved him by bearing children. And now the big village of Abaddon would be taken down. There was no safe haven. No one big enough, strong enough, ruthless enough to put down the 'Viders.

Was it better to live with the winners than die with the innocent?

She had her daughters, her son and Harlan.

Maybe that was enough.

Brolyn lowered the crossbow. "Let us eat, celebrate the victory to come, and the arrival of our newest brother the Great Spanner had sent to us."

Pounding armor like war drums, the 'Viders melted away to have their tributes serve them.

Brolyn smiled. "Sit with the Jurors. I shall have your tribute brought to you, 'Vider Harlan."

Her brother pressed his hand to his stomach. "Let me get this attended to. I wouldn't want to eat and just have the food leak out my belly."

Laughing, Brolyn smacked him on the back. "That would be a sad waste of meat."

Belle bit the inside of her lip. Good Lord, when had her brother become such a flirt? "I'll have Nattie patch him up, then I'll return with the children."

Brolyn shoved a wad of hair at Harlan. "Have your tribute start weaving you a proper shirt. 'Viders should not wear the cloth from unclean animals."

Harlan hot-potatoed the ball of fuzz. "Er, thanks."

Belle took it from him and shoved it in her skirt pockets. "Come on, show-off."

Wrapping his arm around her shoulder, he limped away from the square. "Show-off. Me?"

"Yes, you." They walked past the last of the tables, when the tributes began serving the meal. The greasy scent of human stew turned her stomach. "Why didn't you just pick up the knife and stab Titan with it?"

"Because if I had the knife, he would have done anything to get it, making him unpredictable." Blood oozed between Harlan's fingers. "With the knife in his hand, I could anticipate his moves and use his cockiness against him."

The night grew quiet as they neared the side street where her house was located. "Looks like he used your cockiness against you."

He glanced over his shoulder as they turned the corner. "They sure get quiet when they eat. Is that a 'Vider rule? No talking with your mouth full?"

They walked between empty houses and plowed fields fuzzy with new growth. Overhead, a pale ball glowed through the lead-colored clouds. The air thickened with the promise of rain and wind picked papers off the dirt road, swirling it around.

"She's alright, don't you think? Sera, I mean."

The grass deadened their footfalls. And the chickens scurried toward their coop.

"If you really care for her, you'll stop flirting with Brolyn." Belle climbed the steps, two-footed as her toddler did. "Two 'Viders mating is like marriage, no one or tribute can come between them. Sera will be killed."

"I don't care about Sera. At least, not that way." He paused at the top of the steps and clutched the post with one hand. Beads of sweat streamed down his temples as he panted for breath. "I'm just responsible for her."

"Then keep your..." Belle's motion included everything from his head to his groin. "between yourself and her."

Harlan blushed.

Belle turned away so he couldn't see her smile. She'd made the big bad raider blush. "How long have you two been together, anyway?"

"Couple days. But it's not like you think."

The screen door opened as she reached for it.

Five-year old Cat clutched a bloody rock in her hand. "Momma. Momma, Ginnie won't play 'Viders and Tributes no more."

Belle's heart sank to her knees. No, not 'Viders and Tributes! She set her daughter to the side and stepped inside. The sweet child she'd rescued lay on the floor, blood wept from the gash on her forehead. Belle set her hand on Ginnie's chest, nearly collapsed when it rose and fell.

"Where's Nattie?"

Her friend was supposed to be watching the girls. Why hadn't she prevented them from playing that game?

Cat scrunched up her freckled nose. "Dunno."

"Nattie. Nattie!" Silence rung in Belle's ears. She shook the trembling from her arms. Drat the woman for losing her mind when she needed her. Fear hit her back molars. "What about Ester? Have you seen her?"

Cat tilted her head to the side and stared at the ceiling. "Gone with the lady. Nattie showed 'em the mountain."

"Belle?" Harlan spoke behind her.

"Get me some water and a rag." She could clean and bandage the wound, but Nattie was the expert, knew which herbs to mix together to help the healing.

"Momma?" Cat's bottom lip quivered. "I sorry. I——"

This poor child harmed and for what... A tidal wave of anger crashed over her. "I told you not to play 'Viders and Tributes. I told you..."

Her daughter backed away, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I sorry."

As quickly as the rage came, it left, leaving Belle empty inside. She'd become a monster. Yelling at her daughter. Thinking the 'Vider way was better than death.

Handing his sister the rag, Harlan dropped to his knees next to Cat. "Hey sweetie, why don't you show me your dolly, while Mommy cleans your friend up?"

Cat's green eyes narrowed, and her hand curled around the rock until it trembled. "You're not my sire."

Belle shook herself out of her stupor. She had to get ahold of herself, plan. "This is mommy's brother 'Vider Harlan."

Cat shook her head. "You have hair."

Harlan smiled. "I'll shave it off, but see..." he lifted the shoulders pads off. "I have the tattoos."

Cat touched the black leaves crawling over his chest and up his neck. "You a good 'Vider?"

There was no such thing. Belle knew that now. She had to make a choice, even if it killed her. "Go get your dolly to show Uncle Harry." She squeezed the rag. Water spilled over her fingers. With gentle swipes, she cleaned the girl's wound.

Harlan leaned against the wall. "Figured your daughters would have a doll. You used to play with rocks and sticks until Ma and Pa bought you that ugly thing with the yarn hair. What did you call it?"

"My doll was not ugly." Belle finished cleaning and set a scrap of cloth over the wound. She'd have to look at her brother's injury soon. Why hadn't Nattie taught her more than clean, dry and dress a wound? And just where was the woman?

The hair on the back of Belle's neck prickled. "It's quiet."

Wincing Harlan pushed away from the wall. "I'll check on them. You were always the most devious when you were quiet."

"No." Tying off the bandage, she rose to her feet. "That's not what I mean. I mean it's quiet. Too quiet."

Harlan pulled aside the curtain and peered outside. "We should hear the 'Viders."

"They're not exactly a quiet lot." Her knees trembled. This had to be bad.

The back door slammed.

Nearly wetting herself, Belle spun around.

Nattie charged through the door, an axe in one hand, a machete in the other. "The 'Viders are dead and the prisoners are on the loose. They're killing all of us, 'Vider and tribute makes no difference."

Belle blinked. The woman must have gone insane. But the quiet... "What?"

Setting her weapons on the mantle, Nattie tossed a bundle at Harry, then stripped off her top shirt and used it to tie up her hair. "Figure out which of those TSG-27s is yours and prepare to use it."

Screams came from the village, then footsteps pounded.

Harry opened the bundle, selected a shiny metal object and dropped the one with the red stripe onto the couch. "Someone's coming."

Through the window, Belle watched as women she'd known for the last few years ran around the corner. Terror masked their faces, they surged forward——young children in their arms or sprinting at their side.

Two male prisoners tackled one woman and her toddler. They went down in a tangle of limbs then other prisoners of both genders swarmed over the fallen, kicking and swinging.

Screams pierced the air, then fell silent.

"Nattie, cover the windows, block the doors." Harlan ripped the curtain off the rod. Dust danced in the air while he tied the fabric around his waist. "Belle, get the girls and hide."

Hide? He expected her to hide? Where?

"Each clip has seventy rounds." Nattie stuffed four rectangles in his waistband. "Make them all count."

Harlan nodded, opened the door and stepped outside. "There's so many of them, it'll be hard to miss."

Next, Nattie handed her the machete then shoved her to the bedroom with her children. "Focus, Belle."

Belle stumbled along.

"Momma?" Cat sat next to her brother and their sleeping younger sister.

"It's alright." But it wasn't. It wouldn't be again. God had decided since Belle couldn't.

Today, she would stop being.

Nattie laid another little girl on the floor next to Cat. "Watch her, too."

Cat nodded and raised the rock. "I fight, too."

"We'll seal off the windows first." Nattie ripped the mattress off the bed and shoved it against the sole window in the room.

When she pushed at the dresser, Belle helped. "I can't just do nothing."

"No." Nattie frowned before wrestling the bed frame between the mattress and dresser. "I expect you to cut off anything that comes through that window."

Footsteps pounded in the other room. Two women and four children rushed into the living room.

"Arm yourselves and block the windows and doors." Harlan shouted.

The women pushed their children toward Belle then slipped into the kitchen.

Nattie left. Then furniture scraped the floor in the room next door.

Clutching the machete, Belle perched on the dresser and pressed against the bed frame. No one was getting in through the window. Frightened eyes stared up at her. "Alright everyone, let's sit down and I'll tell you a story."

Two more women stumbled in. Only one child.

Four women. Five children.

The children sat in a tight knot, leaning and touching each other.

Belle cast her mind back to her childhood and dredged up a story.

Number five and six came in. Three more children. A battered man stumbled across the threshold, carrying an object wrapped in a bloody blanket.

Harlan backed into the living-room, his arms raised in front of him. He kept firing outside. The door slammed shut and he wedged a chair under the handle.

Six women, one man, and nine children, out of a camp that once boasted four hundred.

Belle licked her dry lips and prayed, even as she told the story. "There once was a young girl named Goldilocks.”

Nattie left the bedroom and two women, armed with knives, rushed inside.

Setting down his motionless bundle, the man and two other women picked up the sofa and carried it to the kitchen.

Harry crouched in front of the window. His muscles tightened and relaxed at even intervals as he shifted his aim along the sill. "How many are coming?"

Holding her axe and North's long knife, Nattie dipped her ear toward her shoulders then rolled her wrists, testing the weight. "All of the prisoners, and they want revenge."