Frequency (The Frenzy Series Book 3) (8 page)

Now he stood in front of me, staring between me and Porschia, who was sitting straight up on the bed.

“Mercedes?” His voice had even changed. It was deep and full of hesitation.

I nodded to him, wishing I could speak out loud. Just one sentence, one word to him. His hands shook as he reached through the bars to me. I lifted my hand and extended it toward his outstretched hand. The clanking sound of metal stole my attention from him. I looked over to see Porschia’s shackle dangling and bouncing off the cell bars below it. Her breath was on my ear. Shaking, I turned in a slow circle.

“I. Won’t. Let. You. Infect. My. Brother.”

Before I could tell her I wouldn’t hurt my brother either, she pounced on me, knocking me to the ground. My breath exited my lungs in a sharp puff and I couldn’t take in enough air. In any event it didn’t matter, because Porschia had other plans. She pierced my throat with her teeth and drank deeply. The pain was intense.

Burning.

Fire.

Stinging.

Stabbing.

Angry.

Full of rage.

Hate.

I pushed but she wouldn’t budge, I bucked but it didn’t matter. Nothing dislodged her. From somewhere far away I heard metal on metal, Ford shouting at Porschia to stop, Tage screaming curse words at the entire scene. Tage pushed his way in and removed her from me, but it was too late. My neck throbbed, the pain growing more and more intense by the second. I opened my mouth and released a shriek that made all of them cover their ears. My heart slowed, barely pumping. I was dying. My sister killed me and I pushed her to it.

Her eyes were satisfied as she looked down on me, but then she did something unexpected. She whimpered and covered her mouth with her hands. “What did I do? What have I done? Oh, God. Help her!” she screamed. “Where’s Roman? Tage, you have to help her.”

Tage crouched beside me and lifted me onto the cot. His tongue sealed the wound, but he looked at Porschia and shook his head slightly. It was too late. She’d taken too much.

Porschia’s keening filled the air as she tried to climb the bars of the cell. Tage retreated and made Ford lock the door behind them. Good. Ford was safe from Porschia.

And I was…cold.

Wren was a thirty-something rotter with dark skin and tired eyes that wrinkled deeply at the corners. His hands were cracked open in several places, bandaged with once-white cloth that hung loose and threatened to fall off at any minute. It didn’t seem to bother him, though. Before this moment, Wren seemed more like Pierce’s bitch than anything else. It had been two days since I saw the building with all of the test subjects and I still wasn’t able to sleep at night. Pierce was watching something in Blackwater and hadn’t been home much, thank goodness. Whatever game he was playing was far too complicated for me to decipher.

It turned out that Wren was more than just a servant. On the morning Pierce left for the forest, he walked quietly through the apartment to my bedroom and brought a small piece of meat to me.
I can teach you how to block your thoughts. Right now, you’re an open book.

Yeah. Sorry about that.

He tried to smile and shrugged.
You have to find the frequency someone is using. It’s different than the background noise. It’s clear, no static. Can you hear me clearly?

I could. Everyone else sounded muffled, their voices distorted.

Wren nodded.
When you hear someone loud and clear, focus on that sound. Each person’s tone of voice is different. When we were human, the tone and inflections, even the accents were different. It’s like that. You have to focus on the one in front of you, or the one you want to hear.

Okay. I think I have it
. The other voices that had prattled on non-stop since I became Infected finally stopped. There was only blissful silence, except for Wren’s occasional thoughts.

Now, in your mind, build a wall. It can be metal, stone, or brick; anything solid and impenetrable. Build it around your words, only letting those you want the other person to hear float up and over the wall.
I closed my eyes and built a concrete wall, taller than the flood wall, stronger and without weakness.

Try to block something from me.

I hid my worry for Porschia behind it. Her mother was in that place. Those people, we’d seen them in the forest. They were just another piece in Pierce’s game. He would turn them loose to roam the forest and scare the colonists. They didn’t have the cognitive ability to find their way out or for basic survival skills. It was a death sentence, inflicted twice over: once when he damaged them irreparably, and once when he unleashed them in the forest without the ability to get out or save themselves.

I can’t hear you. Good. Now send something to me.

Can you really not hear me?

Wren smiled.
I heard that. Nothing else.
After a long pause, Wren spoke again.
I understand his intent. I don’t agree with his methods, but Pierce started out by looking for an end to this curse. I’m not sure that if I were in his position, I’d do any differently. Especially with the vampires.

Over my mental wall, I eased the words,
What vampires? His brother?

His brother stopped helping him and stopped giving him vials of blood, so Pierce took the others. They were in the building you saw for a long time. But one by one, he ended them. It wasn’t easy. One large male almost killed Pierce. Everson was his name? Now he has no one to play with.

Everson was here? The other vamps that Roman said ran off…they were here?

He kept them bound in intricate knots, starved and half-crazed, and would take their blood when he needed it. If they got violent, he killed them. He couldn’t risk them getting free and coming after him. None of us are strong enough to fight off a well-fed night-walker.
Wren
paused before continuing
. Pierce didn’t want Roman to know what he had done. Roman honestly may not have known – no – he couldn’t have. Pierce was frustrated that Roman cut him off so quickly and definitively.

Wren circled the bed that I sat upon. I eased more words toward him.
Why would vampire blood preserve him?

He shrugged.
One drop can change a human, so Pierce thought that more than a drop might cure the disease. For a long time it kept him feeling better than the rest of us, but between you and me, I think he’s grown immune. He had a steady source of blood from the captive night-walkers, but he’s deteriorating rapidly now. Nothing helps him, and he is growing more agitated with each hour that passes.

He was growing more dangerous.

Exactly
, Wren answered. Oops, I didn’t block my words.

Wren?

Yeah?

How far away can you tune in to a frequency? Do you have to be close to the person, or can you – could I reach someone in the Colony, in theory?

He shifted on his feet, reaching for the handle of my bedroom door.
In theory
, he answered with a smile.
Some can hear others from several miles away. You just have to focus and project your thoughts. It might take a while to reach them if they aren’t expecting a message. If they know you’re reaching out, it should be easier.

How could I get word to her? How could I get her to listen?

I can help,
Wren offered.
Write a message. I’ll see that it gets to a colonist, but you can’t let Roman know.

I won’t.

What did I do?

What have I done?

What did I do?

What have I done?

I rocked back and forth, clamping my ears with my palms to try and close off the sound. Mercedes’ screams were enough to drive me insane.

I am just like my mother. I am insane. I’m crazy. I killed my sister. My sister is dying. I shot her. I bit her. Twice. This time, she won’t stop yelling. She’s in pain. Doubled over. I can hear her clawing at the sheets beneath her. The fabric grates together like nails on a chalkboard. No one’s safe. Ford’s not safe. Father isn’t safe. Mercedes is really dead now. Mother isn’t safe. Maggie isn’t safe. Tage isn’t safe. No one’s safe. I’m evil. I’m danger. I’m deadly. I’m death. Rock. Rock. Rock. Thump. Thump. Thump. Scream. Scream. Scream.

A cold hand clamped around my wrist. “Porsch!”

“Go away!”

But Tage refused to leave. He pulled me to my feet and held me up by the small of my back. “Look at me. Look!”

“She’s dying, isn’t she?”

His blue eyes bored into mine. “I think she might be. Do you want to talk to her, before...?”

“NO!” I shrieked.

He pulled me closer. “This might be your only chance to say goodbye. Do you understand?”

I nodded as bloody tears poured from my eyes. He helped me from my bed, in my room upstairs. He guided me, half-lifted and carried me to the basement where the screams grew so loud that I felt my eardrums would bust. Mercedes shook violently on the mattress as if she were having a seizure. I’d seen them before. Meg had them when we were kids. We would have to get something to wedge in between her teeth, lest she bite her tongue off or swallow it.

Mercedes’ eyes widened when she saw me step into the cell. She whimpered, trying to move her body away but unable to do so. My sister was a prisoner in her own body.

“Do you need blankets?” I asked softly.