The Immortal Rules (24 page)

“Dammit,” I muttered, gently prying open the girl’s mouth, pinching her nose shut. “I have no idea what I’m doing here,” I warned her, before lowering my mouth to hers. I had to remember to take a deep breath, drawing air into myself, before releasing it slowly past the girl’s lips.

I did this five or six times, breathing for the girl, feeling her stomach expand and contract with each breath. Bethany remained limp, unresponsive. I wondered if I shouldn’t shove on her chest, as I’d seen the man do with the boy, but decided against it. I still didn’t know my own strength, and the last thing I wanted to do was snap a rib by mistake. It made my stomach crawl just thinking about it.

By the seventh breath, I was about to admit defeat, when Bethany suddenly choked, gagged and started coughing, expelling river water from her mouth and nose. Relieved, I drew back as she struggled upright, bent over and vomited water and mud into the grass.

Shivering, she looked up at me, her small body tense. “Relax,” I told her, recalling all the wide-eyed, fearful looks she’d given me whenever I walked by. Ruth’s doing, probably. “You fell into the river, but you’re safe now. When you’re up for it, we can go find the others—”

Bethany lunged forward, throwing her arms around my neck, burying her face in my shoulder. I froze for a second, startled and uncomfortable, not knowing what to do.

She sniffled, mumbling something incoherent, and pressed closer against me, snuggling in. And her little neck was suddenly
right there,
inches from my cheek. We were all alone out here; no Zeke, no Ruth, no Jebbadiah Crosse to find us. It would be so easy, to turn my head…to…

Stop that.
I closed my mouth, feeling fangs slip back into my gums, and gently freed myself from the girl’s arms. “Let’s get back to the group,” I said, standing up. “They’re probably looking for us.”

I hoped. Or had Jebbadiah already given us up for dead and moved on?

Gazing at the foaming river, I winced.
I hope Darren made it out okay,
I thought, trudging along the bank with Bethany close behind.
There’s nothing I can do for him now.

It was a long, muddy walk back up the river. The current had carried us quite a ways, farther than I’d first thought. Bethany whimpered and sniffled a bit, especially when having to walk through deep mud, but I refused to piggyback her through the wet spots, so she eventually sucked it up and trailed doggedly after me.

The rain had finally let up, and dawn was fast approaching when I at last spotted a figure, walking down the bank toward us. It walked with a sense of purpose, scanning the bank and the edge of the water, and spotted me almost at the same time I saw it. As we drew closer to each other, I blinked in surprise. It wasn’t Zeke, as I was expecting, or Ruth or even Darren.

It was Jeb.

Bethany suddenly broke away from me, half running, half stumbling toward Jebbadiah who, shockingly, bent down and lifted her in his arms. I watched in amazement as he spoke to her quietly, smoothing back her hair, and wondered if this was perhaps Jeb’s long-lost twin brother. The one who wasn’t a heartless bastard.

Bethany suddenly pointed back at me, and I stiffened as Jeb’s steely gaze turned in my direction. Putting the girl down, he approached, his impassive face giving no hints to what he was thinking.

“I commend you for your bravery, Allison,” he said when he was a few feet away, and I blinked, shocked for the second time that night. “I don’t know how or why you did it, but you saved one of our own, and I will not forget that. Thank you.” He paused and said, very seriously, “Perhaps I was wrong about you.”

“What about Darren?” I asked, not sure if I should trust this unexpected change toward me. “Are there people looking for him? Is he all right?”

“Darren is fine,” Jeb replied, no change in his expression. “He managed to grab the trunk when he surfaced, and we were able to pull him to shore when it became lodged between two rocks downstream. We had almost given up hope with you and Bethany.” He paused and looked down at the girl, a soft, almost grandfatherly look crossing his face. “You are both very lucky, indeed.”

Abruptly, he straightened, brisk and businesslike again. “Come,” he ordered. “Dawn is approaching, and we must get back to camp. This delay was unfortunate, and I wish to have an early start tomorrow night. Let us go, quickly.”

We followed Jeb back to camp, where Bethany was greeted with hugs and tears of relief, and a few smiles and nods were thrown my way. Teresa even took my hand in both of hers and squeezed with her withered fingers, murmuring how I was a godsend and they were so thankful that I had joined the family. Embarrassed, I excused myself and retreated to the edge of the camp, setting up my tent per normal. When I’d finished, I straightened and turned around, and nearly ran into Zeke.

“Whoops.” Zeke put out both hands to steady us. For a half second, we were face-to-face, so close I could see the rings of silver around his pupils, hear the pulse at his throat. The Hunger stirred, and I clamped down on it, hard.

“Sorry,” he apologized, taking a step back. His clothes and hair were still slightly damp, and he smelled faintly of the river. “I…just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he said and ran his fingers through his bangs, shoving them back. “
Are
you all right? No broken bones, no hidden concussions? No fish swimming around in your lungs?”

I smiled at him tiredly. “There might be a minnow or two, but I’m sure I’ll cough them up before tomorrow,” I said, and he chuckled. My stomach squirmed weirdly at that laugh, and I eased back toward my tent. “I think I’m done for the night, though. Something about near-death experiences always wears me out.” I faked a yawn, covering my mouth just in case fangs were showing. “See you tomorrow, Zeke.”

He reached for me before I could turn, taking a strand of my wet hair, running it lightly through his fingers. I froze, my stomach in knots, the Hunger stirring curiously at this newest development.

“Allison.” Zeke’s smile sent a rush of warmth through me, and I had to stifle the urge to touch him, skin to skin, just to feel that heat. My gums throbbed, fangs aching to break through, and I forced myself to stay put, to not step forward and lean up toward his neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Zeke murmured without a trace of embarrassment or guile. “It’s nice, having someone else we can count on. I hope you’ll stay, so we can see Eden together.”

He gave my hair a final, gentle tug and turned away. I watched him go, Hunger and longing and that strange, squirmy feeling twisting my insides. Crawling into my tent, I pulled the blanket over my head and tried to sleep, to forget Ezekiel Crosse. His touch. His warmth. And how badly I wanted to sink my fangs into his throat and truly make him mine.

Chapter 14

The plains couldn’t go on forever. The next night, a scattering of trees appeared on the horizon, growing thicker and more numerous, until it became a proper forest. Trudging through brush and tangled undergrowth, our progress slowed even more. People began to mutter; the forest was more dangerous than the plains, harder to get through, especially since we weren’t following a road. The shadowy trees hid predators like wolves and bears, and of course, the worst fear of all: rabids.

Not surprisingly, Jeb was deaf to these fears and continued to push doggedly through the woods, pausing only to let the little ones rest and to ration out our nearly exhausted supplies. When we finally stopped to camp a few hours before dawn, Zeke and Darren grabbed their bows to go hunting again, and this time I joined them.

“So, do you know how to shoot one of these things?” Darren asked as I followed him and Zeke into the woods. He seemed fully recovered from his tumble into the river, no worse for wear except for a small cut and a purple-green bruise on his forehead. Zeke had teased him about his hardheadedness, and Darren had responded by saying that scars were sexy to the ladies.

I smiled at him, secretly thinking he was making far too much noise for us to be able to sneak up on anything. Ahead of us, Zeke was much quieter. At least Darren was speaking in whispers, though I winced whenever he stepped on a twig or made the leaves crunch.

“I think I’ve got the general idea,” I murmured back. “Point the sharp end at something and pull the string, right?”

“There’s a bit more to it than that,” Darren said dubiously. “It takes a fair bit of strength to pull the cord effectively, and you have to know how to aim it, too. Are you sure you don’t want me to show you how? I’ll be happy to teach you.”

My annoyance flared. “Tell you what,” I said, holding up my bow. “Let’s make a bet. If you shoot something before I do, I’ll leave the hunting to you and Zeke. If I make a kill first, you let me come hunting with you whenever I want. Deal?”

“Uh.” His eyebrows shot up, appraising. “Sure. You’re on.”

A pebble came sailing through the darkness then, coming from Zeke’s direction. I stepped back, but it bounced off Darren’s chest, and he turned with a hiss, scowling. Zeke frowned back, then put a finger to his lips and pointed at a clump of bushes ahead.

I was instantly alert. Something was moving in the undergrowth about fifty yards away, a large black shape, shuffling low to the ground. Zeke smoothly reached behind him, drew an arrow from the quiver, fit it to the string and raised the bow. As he pulled back the cord, I breathed in slowly, trying to catch the beast’s scent.

The stench of blood, rot and general
wrongness
hit me like a hammer, and I gasped. “Zeke, no!” I whispered, throwing out a hand, but it was too late. Zeke released the string, and the arrow shot into the bushes, striking its mark with a muffled
thunk.

A maddened squeal rose into the air, making my blood run cold. The bushes parted, and a huge boar lunged into the clearing, frothing and shaking its head. Its eyes blazed white, with no pupils or irises, and blood streamed from the sockets, running down its bristly fur. Two yellow tusks curled from its jaw, razor sharp and lethal, as it screamed again and charged at Zeke.

As I lunged forward, Zeke dropped the bow, pulled his gun and his machete at the same time, and fired several shots at the rabid pig. I saw blood erupt from the boar’s head, face and shoulders, but the crazed animal didn’t slow down. At the last instant, Zeke stepped aside, swinging himself out of the boar’s path, and brought his machete slashing down across its flanks.

The boar whirled with frightening speed, but by that time, I had drawn my sword and sliced deep into the animal’s back, shearing through flesh and bone. The pig squealed and whirled, gouging at me with those deadly tusks, but its spine had been severed, and its hind legs gave out before it could reach me. Zeke stepped up and hit it again, landing a blow directly behind its skull, opening a gash in its neck, and the boar stumbled. Raising my blade, I brought it down with all my strength, aiming for the gaping wound Zeke already opened. The katana edge sliced cleanly through the pig’s burly neck, cutting through spine and flesh and bone and severing the head from its shoulders. The huge body crashed to the ground and rolled over, kicking the air, as the head clenched and unclenched its jaws in helpless rage, before they both, finally, stopped moving.

I slumped against a tree, letting my sword arm drop, watching Zeke as he sank to the ground, gasping. I could see his muscles shaking from adrenaline, the sweat running down his brow and cheeks. And I heard his heart racing a mile a minute, thudding loudly in his chest.

“Oh, my God.” Darren staggered forward, shaking as well. There was an arrow fitted to his bowstring, but everything had happened so very fast; he hadn’t had time to shoot it. “Are you two all right? I’m sorry, I couldn’t…it just came out of nowhere.”

Zeke waved it off and stood, grabbing a hanging branch a bit unsteadily. “It’s all right,” he panted, holstering his gun. “It’s done. It’s over, and everyone is fine. Allie?” He looked at me. “You’re okay, right? It didn’t hurt you, did it?”

I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

“More than fine.” Darren’s voice was awed and jealous all at once. “Damn, girl. You cut its head clean off! I take back my side of the bet—you can go hunting with us anytime.”

I smirked at him but was suddenly aware of Zeke, watching me now with a thoughtful expression on his face. “You were incredible,” he said softly, then seemed to catch himself. “I mean…that sword must be crazy sharp, to cut through a full grown boar. You’re not even breathing hard.”

Alarm shot through me. I deliberately took a deep, ragged breath. “It just hasn’t hit me yet,” I said, trying to sound breathless and shaky. Zeke stepped toward me, looking worried, but my attention suddenly shifted to something else. In that breath, I smelled the foul, rotten carcass of the rabid boar, making me slightly nauseated, but I also caught the hint of blood. Clean, untainted blood. Human blood.

“Hello?” called a weak, unfamiliar voice through the trees. “Is…is anyone there? Are you still alive?”

We all jerked upright, pointing weapons into the darkness. “Where are you?” Zeke demanded, easing back to stand with Darren and me. “Show yourself.”

“I can’t,” the voice answered. “The boar…my leg. I need help…please.”

I peered into the forest, tracking the voice by sound, trying to pinpoint its location. “There,” I muttered to Zeke, pointing to the branches of an old pine tree. A dark shape huddled among the needles, clinging desperately to the trunk. He smelled of fear and pain. And blood. A lot of blood.

We approached the tree with caution, weapons still out and ready. The dark shape came into focus; a middle-aged man with a short yellow beard and dirty blue overalls. He watched us with glazed eyes, his teeth clenched in a grimace of pain.

“The pig?” he whispered.

“It’s dead,” Zeke assured him. “You can come down. We’re not going to hurt you.”

“Thank God.” The man slumped in relief and half fell out of the tree, landing with a gasp. The smell of blood was suddenly overwhelming. I bit my lip to keep my fangs retracted.

“Damn pig caught me off guard.” The man gasped, sinking back against the trunk, extending one leg with a grimace. The right pant leg was torn to the knee, stained dark. “I was able to get up the tree and out of reach, but it got me anyway. Stubborn thing was waiting for me to come down. I’d be dead if you hadn’t come along.”

“Do you have a safe place to go?” Zeke asked, kneeling beside him. He nodded.

“There’s several of us living in a compound about two miles west of here.” He pointed with a bloodstained hand, and Zeke stood.

“All right,” he said. “Darren, go back to the others. Tell Jeb what’s happened. Warn them there are probably rabids in the area. Allison,” he continued, nodding to the injured man, “help me get him home.”

I frowned. Zeke noticed my hesitation and stepped close, lowering his voice to a murmur. “We can’t leave him here,” he said earnestly. “That wound looks deep, and he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Exactly,” I hissed back. “He’s probably attracted every rabid in a ten-mile radius. Fighting an endless wave of rabids for some random stranger doesn’t sound like a good plan to me.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Zeke said firmly. “Random stranger or not, I’m not going to let another human die out here.” His eyes hardened, and he lowered his voice. “I won’t leave him to be torn apart by soulless demons. That’s not going to happen. So, either help me, or go back to the others with Darren.”

“Dammit,” I growled as Zeke turned away. The stupid boy didn’t know it, but rabids weren’t the only thing he had to worry about. The man reeked of blood, and deep within, the Hunger stirred restlessly. My fangs pressed against my gums, and I could almost taste the heat spreading over my tongue. But Zeke was already bending to help the wounded man, shouldering half his weight and lifting him to his feet. The human gasped and leaned on the younger man, keeping his injured leg off the ground, and Zeke staggered under the weight.

“Dammit,” I muttered again and stepped to the opposite side, looping the man’s arm over my neck. Maybe if I didn’t breathe and stopped fantasizing about plunging my teeth into his throat every few seconds, we would be all right.

“Thanks for this,” the human panted as we began the agonizingly slow hobble into the dark woods. “The name’s Archer—Joe Archer. My family owns these lands, or at least, they did back before the plague.”

“What were you doing so far from home, Mr. Archer?” Zeke asked, gritting his teeth as the man stumbled. I braced myself, keeping all of us upright. “Especially at night, when the rabids are roaming around?”

Joe Archer managed a short, embarrassed laugh. “One of our damn goats got through the fence,” he admitted, shaking his head. “We keep them outside in the daytime, when the rabids aren’t awake. But one of them decided to go roaming the forest, and if we lose even one of the little buggers, that’s half our meat and dairy right there. So I went looking for it. I didn’t mean to be out so late, but it got dark quicker than I expected.”

“You’re lucky to be alive,” I muttered, wishing they would both move faster. “If that pig had bitten you a few times instead of just gouging your leg, you’d have a lot more to worry about than finding a goat.”

I felt him go very still under my arm, and his heart rate sped up. “Yeah,” he mumbled, not looking at me. “It was a lucky thing.”

* * *

M
IRACULOUSLY
,
DESPITE
the obvious scent of blood in the air and the conspicuous trail we left behind, we managed to avoid any sudden rabid attacks. Breaking free of the trees, we found ourselves at the edge of a large clearing, encircled with a barbed-wire fence. The remnants of an ancient barn sat rotting within the fence, overgrown with weeds and falling apart, and a rusty tractor sat beside it in the same condition.

In the middle of the clearing, a wall of corrugated metal, wood and cement surrounded a low hill. Bonfires had been set a few feet from the perimeter, lighting the darkness with heat and smoke, and I could see lights and other structures beyond the wall.

We eased Joe through the barbed wire, taking care with his leg, and started across the clearing. Halfway across, a shout came from somewhere up ahead, and someone on the wall shone a flashlight into my eyes. Joe shouted back, waving his arms, and the light disappeared. A few minutes later a rusty groan echoed across the field as the gate opened and three people, two men and a woman, rushed toward us.

I tensed out of habit, and because the younger-looking man did have a rifle, though it wasn’t pointed at us. The other man was lanky and rawboned, but it was the woman I paid the most attention to. Her brown hair was in a ponytail, and though she didn’t look very old, a few gray strands poked out from the sides. She might’ve been pretty once, but her face was lined with creases now, her mouth pinched and severe. And her eyes told me that, without a doubt, this was the person in charge.

“Joe!” cried the woman, flinging herself at us. “Oh, thank goodness! We thought you were dead.” And despite her words, she looked as if she would have slapped him if it wasn’t for his injuries. “What were you
doing,
going into the forest by yourself, you great damn fool? Never mind! Don’t answer that—I’m just relieved you’re home. And—” her shrewd brown eyes suddenly fixed on me “—I see I have some strangers to thank for your safe return.”

“Be nice to them, Patricia,” Joe gasped, making a feeble attempt to smile. “They saved my life. Killed a rabid pig without blinking an eyelash—damndest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Did they now?” the woman continued coolly as Joe was taken by the two men and limped back into the compound. “You don’t say. Well, the Lord works in mysterious ways.” Her sharp, no-nonsense gaze fixed on us. “My name is Patricia Archer,” she said briskly, “and I don’t know who ya’ll are, but anyone who takes care of one of mine is welcome here.”

“Thank you,” Zeke said solemnly. “I’m Zeke, and that’s Allison.”

“Pleased t’ meet you,” Patricia shot back, leaning forward and squinting at us. “Let me see you better—my eyes ain’t what they used to be. Lord have mercy, you’re young. How old are you, boy? Seventeen? Eighteen?”

“Seventeen,” Zeke replied. “I think.”