Frenzy (The Frenzy Series Book 1) (11 page)

Saul moved in front of me. “We heard something strange and had to hide until it was safe.”

Roman turned to Dara, who picked at her cuticles as though she were bored. “Did you sense anything last night?”

“Nothing of urgency,” she deadpanned.

Roman let out a pent up breath. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He grasped my elbow from around Saul and pulled me toward our bench. “Sit.”

I sank onto the gritty concrete slab and brushed away the tendrils of hair that had escaped my braids. Roman wasted no time numbing my neck and then sinking his fangs in. A few quick draws, his arm possessively snaking around my abdomen and between my breasts to hold the front of my neck, and he was licking my wounds again. I was reeling. Between the morning’s sprint, the feeling of Roman’s hands on me, and Saul’s eyes cutting into us both, it was too much.

I tried to sit up straighter, but Roman refused to let me go. His warm breath fanned my ear as he whispered, “Don’t be late tonight.”

“Why? Will you turn to dust if the sun hits you?”

I could hear his smile and small puff of laughter. “You wish. I do, however, worry about you.”

“You mean your next meal.”

With his free hand, he tilted my head toward him. “No. Just about you.”

I swallowed and he released me, standing up and silently calling for the others to follow him.

Saul and I stopped for our rations at Town Hall. I was able to grab the dress I stashed, slip into the bathroom and change back into it before many saw me in Ford’s pants. Most people probably had the manners and couth not to say anything, but my mother was not like most people. She would have a fit.

I didn’t check my ration bag; I just hurried to Mrs. Dillinger’s, promising to meet Saul for dinner before the evening rotation. She was working upstairs, as usual. “How did the hunt go?” she asked hopefully.

“We got a few things. Saul took down a huge buck and the Browns were able to kill a raccoon. The Freemans set snares, so hopefully those will be full tonight.”

“Sounds like you all have a plan. You split up?”

“Yeah.”

She looked up at me. “Could be more dangerous that way.”

“Sometimes you have to take the risk to get the reward.”

Mrs. Dillinger smiled. “You’re exhausted.”

There was no point lying to her. “I am.”

“Go home and rest. Come tomorrow only if you feel that you can. I understand your burden.”

I thanked her and gave her an awkward hug before heading toward my house. The sun was peeking out from behind thin bands of clouds. The concrete was warming. Steam wafted up from its surface. Smoke rose from the kitchen chimney.

Steeling my spine, I stepped onto the walk, crossed the porch, and pushed my way inside, keeping Mercedes’ coat pulled tight. Mother was busy in the kitchen. I peeked into the ration bag and saw a pint of cooked apples, more bread, more cheese, and an egg. I tucked the cheese and apples into my pockets. Mother’s eyes narrowed when I stepped into the kitchen and laid the bag on the counter. Before venom could begin to spew from her mouth, I walked away, up the steps and to my room, locking the door behind me.

From under my arm, I pulled the bag containing Ford’s clothes and from the pockets, I took the food. I chewed quickly and then sank into my mattress, pulling the covers over me in a cocoon of warmth.

I didn’t want to move. My muscles were sore. I was tucked inside the warm bed clothes. My feet weren’t freezing. My hands weren’t shaking or numb. Nestled inside the blankets, I could stay in a tiny world where my mother didn’t hate me, my sister was across the hall asleep, my father was brave enough to handle my mom’s crazy, and my baby brother didn’t have to steal food.

Peeking out of the dark cavern, I saw the sun, too much of it. The acrid smell of smoke filled the air. “What’s burning?” I mumbled to myself, throwing the covers back and slipping my feet into my boots.

From the window, I could see Mother outside, stoking a fire—a fire that was built way too close to the house. The laundry on the line thrashed in the blustery wind. She was going to burn the house down!

I laced my boots quickly, grabbed my coat, and ran down the steps to the back door. Just beyond lay a huge burn pile. “What are you doing? You’re going to catch the house on fire!”

A mirthless laugh bubbled from her throat.

“You won’t take anything from her again,” she taunted.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, pushing my hair out of my face. Then I took a good look at what she was burning.

Drawers full of clothes and Mercedes’ things were thrown into the inferno. Her drawings. Everything from my sister’s bedroom was being destroyed. “NO!” I screamed and launched myself to the base of the pile. The skin of my fingers boiled but I managed to pull one of her drawings out of the flames, one of her summer dresses, and her brush.

“Why would you do this?”

“She’s gone and it’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have anything of hers!” she roared.

“You’re crazy! I didn’t kill her. She isn’t even
dead
. She’s just across the river. I didn’t go out on the hunt. I didn’t volunteer for her. I wasn’t
supposed
to protect her! If you want to blame someone, Mother, blame Mercedes! Blame the night-walker who was supposed to be guarding her. Blame yourself for not teaching her never to volunteer for the rotation, but this is NOT MY FAULT!”

The pride in her face crumbled and she ran into the house, wailing, slamming doors behind her in a fit of insanity and rage. Glass shattered. Thumps. More screaming.

I heaped dirt onto the edges of the blaze, smothering it before it could consume any more of my sister’s life. There came a point in everyone’s life where they came to a crossroads. This was mine. I couldn’t live here anymore. Mother was going to smother me, one way or another, and I couldn’t be an accomplice to her malice anymore.

Ford jogged around the side of the house and pulled me to my feet. “What did you do?”

I shook my head as tears carved paths through the soot that felt thick on my face. “Mother?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m done,” I rasped.

He scanned the burn pile. “I understand.”

“I’m sorry, Ford.”

“Don’t be. I won’t be far behind you.”

I rushed upstairs and grabbed only what I could carry: my dresses, shoes, Ford’s clothes, and food. I knew Father deserved to hear from me that I was leaving. Mrs. Dillinger had offered a room at her house, and I decided I would take her up on the offer for the time being.

Ford silently stood guard around my things as I made sure to get all that I could. When I was finished, he asked me where I would go.

“Mrs. Dillinger has a spare room.”

“I’ll check on you tomorrow,” he promised.

The sun sank further to the west. It was already evening. I needed to meet Saul at our spot, but I needed to move my things. “I’ll take them to Mrs. Dillinger’s shop, if you want. You can go.”

I grabbed the sack of his clothes, half a loaf of bread, and a jar of beets. “Thank you. I’ll tell Father tomorrow.”

He stacked everything into the barrel of our wheelbarrow and pushed it down the walk and into the street. “Be safe, Porschia.”

“I will.”

Anger pulsed through my veins and I wondered whether Roman would taste its bitterness tonight. Carving a path through neighbor’s yards, I walked quickly toward the river. The clouds, which were mere wisps this morning, were dark gray and roiling, clamoring for dominance in the sky.

I could hear the roar of the falls in the distance. Even the dryness of autumn hadn’t stopped their ferocity. The river barely seemed affected at all. I wanted to see Mercedes’ pool, the site of her false farewell. I wanted to let it and her know that I hadn’t forgotten, hadn’t given up on her. She needed to know it, too. Or, I needed her to know that I still loved her and I was sorry.

The water on my bare feet would calm me. It would connect me with my sister. And I needed that connection now more than ever. The bank wasn’t steep here. I made my way to the water’s edge and bent to unlace my boot. That was when I saw her.

She was in my sister’s pool, the water tinged red around her, coating the smooth rocks. Her red hair was spread in a wide halo around the eyes that stared into forever. Bite marks, spaced very far apart, were on her neck on both sides. Meg. White linens filled with air pockets hovered in the water around her. Her arms stretched wide, welcoming eternity.

I couldn’t breathe. Sliding down the river bank, I couldn’t catch my breath. No.

My heart sank. “Meg?!” I screamed, wading into the water. “Meg, please.
No
.”

I grabbed her arm and pulled her heavy, soaked body to the edge of the shore. She was gone. She was dead before I even came here. Meg was gone. Meg was dead. Meg wasn’t Infected. She wouldn’t be Jonas’s wife. She wouldn’t be my friend and make tea for us and...

My skirt was heavy as I stepped out of the water and climbed the bank. Her blood was in the water. Her blood was on my dress, seeping into the fabric, staining it.

I ran for help. I ran for Saul.

Saul’s easy smile faded when he saw me running, slinging water and blood and crazy everywhere. “What’s wrong?” His hands clamped onto my upper arms.

“M-Meg. She’s dead. She’s dead in the river,” I sobbed uncontrollably. My friend was gone. My friend was dead. Someone killed her. A vampire.