No Mere Zombie: Deathless Book 2 (29 page)

Blair released his friend’s mind, suddenly landing back in his own. The wind howled around him, and his arms ached from the effort of maintaining his grip on the edge of the cockpit. Trevor stared out at him, a pilot’s headset covering his ears. His gaze bore the same sadness as he raised a hand. Then sickly green light burst from his palm, washing over Blair in the familiar agony he’d felt when Irakesh had paralyzed him back in the Ark.
 

The wind ripped him away from the cockpit, sending him tumbling through the air towards the jungle’s thick canopy hundreds of feet below.

Chapter 45- Present For The Mother

Yukon trotted down the dock, largely ignored by the Mother’s new pack. They moved a variety of strange-smelling boxes and loud guns onto the very large boat where the Mother waited. Yukon knew he should be at her side, but she’d been preparing the boat for days and it was dreadfully boring just standing there.
 

He hadn’t gone far, of course. The memory of the strange not-deads was still large and frightening. They’d tried to eat him, would have eaten him if the Mother hadn’t saved him. She protected him, just as he protected her in his own small way. She kept him alive and he went places that she could not, watched her growing pack to make sure none of them were dangerous. He guarded the door while she used the poop-stealing water chair, always watching. You could never be sure. Even if they smelled right humans could sometimes surprise you in a nasty way.

Yukon ducked between a pair of men hefting a wide wooden crate that looked heavy. He couldn’t smell any food, but he recognized the odd tangy scent of cans. Tasty things came in cans. He hurried past them, up a long walkway that led to the railing circling the huge boat. A cargo ship, Rodrigo had called it. He was the Mother’s new beta, a pleasant enough man who liked to scratch behind Yukon’s ears as though he were some mangy cat. Yukon tolerated it of course, because he knew it was meant as a friendly gesture.

“Ugg, wet dog,” one of the men said, crinkling his nose as Yukon slipped past. Yukon ignored him, though he knew the comment was meant as an insult. Was it his fault the rain continued to fall for the third straight day? Besides, he didn’t smell nearly so bad as that man had. He reeked of beer and sweat, with something less pleasant lurking underneath. Yukon didn’t even want to know what the last part was.

He trotted up to the railing, pausing for a thorough shake to remove most of the rain, once he was under the shelter of the boat’s lowest level. It was covered by the floor above, which was covered by the floor above. It continued like that all the way to the top, which was a long flat surface now covered in stacks of big metal crates. Yukon had enjoyed running between them for a while, but it had grown boring with no one to play with.

Yukon adjusted his grip on the purple dodo, an amusing little stuffed animal he’d found near the dock. The Mother was very tense and he hoped the present might make her smile, something he’d very rarely seen since she’d saved him. How long ago had that been? He didn’t know. He wanted to understand the human concept of time, but it was lost on him. It was day, or it was night. What did yesterday matter? It was gone and it wouldn’t come back. Tomorrow would get here soon enough. Why worry about it?

He padded around the edge of lowest level until he came to the steep metal stairs leading to the next level. They’d scared him at first. They had holes in them, not quite large enough for a paw to go through but enough that he still felt as though he might. Yukon ran up the stairs, almost tripping as he finally made it to the top. His heart was beating faster, but he moved on quickly and did not look back at the stairs. At least going up was easier than going down.

He repeated the process several more times, finally making it to the level just below the top. It was the last with any shelter and some of the rain pelted him over the railing. It wasn’t bad though, just a little cold. He didn’t understand why humans were so offended by the idea of getting wet. Rain fell, you got wet. It was natural and you dried off if you lay down by a fire or with the rest of your pack.

Yukon wandered through the narrow door, stepping over the strange lip and onto the cold metal sheet inside. Was the lip meant to keep water out? Only humans would bother. Of course only humans were smart enough to build a giant house that floated on water. They were very handy in their own way and they took care of dogs, so he probably shouldn’t be so critical.
 

Critical. Such a strange word for a dog. The Mother had warned him that he would begin to change if he spent time near her. Awakening, she called it. He wasn’t sure exactly what that entailed, but he thought it meant he was getting smarter. He was also a little faster and a little larger. That could be handy if he needed to protect his pack.

“Yukon,” the Mother called warmly from her place next to Rodrigo. They stood in front of a strange wall full of dials and controls, like a car only more complicated. Above the wall sat a wide window, which showed the harbor in front of the boat. Yukon couldn’t see much of it unless he got up on his hind legs. The Mother had called it undignified, so he avoided doing that in her presence.

The Mother patted her thigh, summoning him closer. It was a subtle acknowledgment, but enough to fill him with joy. She was his world and he would do everything in his power to keep her happy and safe. Yukon trotted forward, pushing the purple dodo at the Mother’s tiny hand once he reached her. She glanced down, surprise evident on her radiant face. Then her eyes twinkled and she delivered a rare smile. It was brilliant. Like the sun.

“Thank you, Yukon,” she said, resting a delicate hand on his head. She never pet him like most humans. They saw him as a pet, a lesser animal to be praised like one of their pups. Not the Mother. She treated him with respect, as an equal. “You remind me of the gentleness that this world still possesses. Once again, you have humbled me.”

You don’t smile enough. I wanted you to smile.
He thought at her. Yukon was aware of a very confused Rodrigo standing a few feet from the Mother. He watched her uncomfortably, the way Yukon had once eyed the vacuum cleaner.

“You’re right. I have been consumed by all that has gone wrong, but I must not lose sight of the reason I fight. To preserve the gentle parts of the world,” the Mother said, placing the dodo on top of the console. That was the word for the strange wall with all the dials.
 

The Mother gave him another smile, then turned back to Rodrigo. If another human had done that he’d have known he was dismissed, but Yukon could feel the Mother’s mind. Gratitude swept over him even as she spoke with Rodrigo.

“How soon can we depart?” she asked, absently stroking the tuft of crazy fur on top of the dodo’s head.

“The men will be done loading supplies within the hour,” Rodrigo answered, giving a slight bow of his head. The man smelled of oil and wariness. “Alfonso used to run construction sites.
 
Big hotels and stuff. He knows about the equipment we’ll need to break up the rock once we reach the island. He says we can use jackhammers and we’ve loaded up a small truck to carry loads back to the ship.”

“Well done, Rodrigo. Your efforts don’t go unnoticed,” she said, crossing her arms over the strange white garments she always wore. They weren’t like other people’s. They shimmered and moved like living things. “Have you given any more thought to my offer?”

“I have, but Mother, I am afraid,” he said, scrubbing his fingers through the wispy beard he’d let grow on their way here. Yukon approved. It wasn’t quite fur, but it was the closest humans could get. “You say that I probably will not rise, but if I do I’ll be a great champion. I want to help you, but I don’t want to die.”

“I understand. It is a difficult sacrifice to make, one very few are willing to attempt,” she said, reaching up to place a hand on Rodrigo’s shoulder. Yukon felt a little stab of jealousy. “There is no shame in serving as you are. I value your counsel. Please, make the crew ready. I will await your return.”

Rodrigo gave a grateful nod, all but scurrying from the room. After his departure the Mother turned to the console, staring out the window at the open ocean. Yukon couldn’t see much, save the steel grey sky blanketing the horizon. What was she staring at? He wanted to put his paws up on the console, but knew she’d disapprove. So he lay down at her feet and waited.

Chapter 46- Awaken, Ka-Ken

Awaken, Ka-Ken. You are in danger.
 

Liz came to with a gasp, blinking away the grogginess. She sat up, or tried to, anyway. The movement was halted as she reached the edge of the motion allowed by the restraining straps. They were black and metallic, but woven somehow. Bands looped around her chest, arms and legs neatly pinning every limb against the metal bench. It was cold even through her clothes.

She gave up struggling, choosing to study the inside of her cell rather than listen to the bubbling rage that accompanied the voice. It was a small room, perhaps six by eight. The narrow bench was molded from the same chrome as the rest of the room. It didn’t even have a cushion. Not exactly the Plaza back in Acapulco.

The wall opposite her was clear like plexiglass, revealing a hallway that stretched in either direction and an identical cell across from her. The thin lighting came from twin tracks set into the hallway ceiling. The same type she was used to in places like airplanes that were trying to conserve power.
 

Wait a minute. What was the deep thrumming? It reverberated through the walls, through her entire body. Powerful and deep, like a jet engine. Oh god.

Had Irakesh captured her? Why would he have let her live instead of killing her immediately. Was he that much of a storybook villain, predictably stupid? Perhaps he’d captured the others too. She scooted up as far as the straps would allow, peering at the cell across from her. There was a dark shape on the bench in the other cell. Another prisoner. Liz tested the air, but there was nothing beyond her own scent. The room was completely sealed.

The figure leaned forward, resting tree-trunk arms on top of his knees. Jordan was bare chested, with a pair of camouflage pants and familiar black boots. The light glittered in his hazel eyes, unmoved by their current circumstances. He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head with a half-smile. He must have just realized what she had; if the rooms were sealed, no sound would travel between them.

Why wasn’t Jordan bound? Liz glanced at the bench next to him, finding a familiar trio of straps piled there. They weren’t frayed or broken. How had he gotten them off?

Males are notoriously difficult to imprison, Ka-Ken. They have many such tricks.

She latched on to the voice, hoping it could keep her afloat. She wasn’t alone. Not truly.

Do you know where we are?
She thought back.

Yes, Ka-Ken. We are in the slipsail that the soldiers brought. They were not allied with the deathless, but have no love for us either.

Not allied with Irakesh. A third party had intervened. At a Mohn facility. After the world had ended. Her eyes rose to meet Jordan’s, a satisfied smile growing across that chiseled jaw as he nodded at her. It was the sort that a proud father gave a child who’d just done something impressive. Or figured something out. But how could he know, unless…

Can you hear me, Jordan?
She thought at him, praying for an answer.
 

None came. Jordan’s expression tightened and he began to pace back and forth behind the glass. Was he trying to reach her and failing? He’d shown neither the interest nor aptitude for the abilities Blair had taken and run with. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to reach her.

To her surprise he stopped pacing and began nodding vigorously. He pointed to his head, then back at her.

If you can hear me hold up three fingers.
She thought at him. Her back had begun to ache from the awkward position, so she settled back against the bench. She could still see Jordan. His hand shot up, three fingers extended.

This was going to be tricky. She’d never been very good at charades. Hmm. If she stuck to yes or no questions she could at least get some answers.

“Did Mohn capture us?” she asked, voice hoarse from disuse. She knew he couldn’t hear her, but hearing a voice helped. Even her own.

Jordan nodded. So the beast had been right about that much, at least.

“Were any of the others captured?” she asked, shifting again. Her neck ached.

He shook his head, then his face grew uncertain. He gave an apologetic shrug. So maybe Mohn had more of them, maybe not. They could be in the neighboring cells. Or they could be dead.
 

The Ka-Dun lived upon our capture. He and the spiteful one ran. I believe the other Ka-Ken may have accompanied them.

Blair, Bridget and Steve had escaped then. They could have been captured or killed after they’d fled, but she wouldn’t accept that. She needed to know they were out there, still trying to stop Irakesh or maybe coming to rescue her. She quieted the voice telling her they weren’t coming, that Blair would do his duty and stop Irakesh even if it meant sacrificing her.

Her face blazed. Jordan could hear her.
 

“How do I get out of my straps?” she asked, turning her gaze back to Jordan. She felt a tear slide free but ignored it. She had to be strong. There wasn’t any other choice.