The Lair (32 page)

Carter was coming for her. She’d share the Rolos with him when he got there.

Josie was asleep by the time she pulled into the parking lot of the Town and Country. By the standards of a Wal-Mart, the place was tiny.

She left Josie asleep in the car when she went in to secure the freezer. Something—something other than Ticks, if Lily had to guess—had knocked holes in the roof in a couple of places. Maybe a tornado had come through here in the past few weeks. This was prime tornado alley.

A little moonlight filtered through the gaps in the roof, making it possible for her to forage as she searched for the freezer section. Along the way she found a few cans of food and some bottles of Gatorade. They even had some cleaning supplies. More bleach, which was always useful, and five mops. She brought Josie inside before carrying in load after load of plants and the other supplies she’d found. She set up the antenna for the sat phone just outside the car. Once she had locked herself and Josie in the freezer, she spent a few hours whittling the mop handles into stakes. There were some things you could never have enough of. Food was one. Stakes were the other.

Logic said she should sleep when Josie did, but her mind wouldn’t quiet. Had she done the right thing? Maybe she should have argued harder against Carter coming to find her. Maybe she shouldn’t have told him where she was at all.

Not calling him hadn’t been an option. He needed to know about Ely. And as much as she wanted to pretend that she was strong enough and independent enough to handle anything, she wasn’t. Everyone needed help sometimes. That was just part of life. When she and Mel had been planning their escape from the Farm, she’d tried her damnedest to do it all on her own. To rely on no one. But that hadn’t worked. Her stubborn self-reliance had caused more problems than it had solved. She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes twice.

By midnight, roughly the time that Carter had said he’d be rolling into town, she was even more keyed up. By one
A.M.
, she was downright jittery.

She’d told him where she’d be, but maybe he hadn’t understood. She tried calling him again, but her phone must have been too far away from the antenna she’d left at the Cayenne. Which meant if he was trying to get in touch with her, he wouldn’t be able to.

By two
A.M.
, when he still hadn’t shown up, panic was eating away at her. Josie had woken up, eaten, and gone back to sleep. Too jittery to even sit still, Lily cracked open the freezer door and stuck her head outside, listening for the sound of . . . anything.

She thought about what Ely had said. If the Ticks couldn’t hear you or smell you, you weren’t there. But that assumed there were Ticks in the area. She hadn’t seen any sign of them all day long. Signs of human looting and destruction, yes. Signs of Ticks, no. Maybe there just weren’t any here.

She was hours away from a Farm. They tended to congregate near their food source. So it was feasible that this entire town was as Tick free as an indoor dog.

She waffled for a few more minutes. Leaving the freezer to get within range of the antenna maybe wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but wasn’t being out of range of the antenna just as dangerous? It was a tradeoff.

Grasping the phone in one hand, she snuck out the freezer door and crept to the front of the store, opened the door, and stepped right outside. About a minute after the signal icon on her phone lit up, a beep sounded letting her know that someone had tried to call her. The number was Carter’s. From a half hour earlier.

She listened to the message with a pounding heart.

“It took longer than I thought to get out. We’re almost there now. Thirty minutes. Tops.”

Okay. Thirty minutes. So he should be walking through the door any second now.

She’d already made it back to the freezer compartment when she heard a noise from beyond the freezer. Not the quiet shuffle of human footsteps, but a loud noise. Something crashing—a noise that, under the circumstances, Carter would never make.

She waited, heart pounding, for the howl of a Tick. It never came, but the store echoed with more crashing. Shattering glass. Shelves being knocked over. It didn’t sound like Ticks. Ticks traveled in packs. They moved fast. They yowled and yipped to communicate over long distances. They didn’t forage in stores.

So who or what was this?

What kinds of creatures prowled around this part of Texas at night? There were all the benign small things: rats, possums, raccoons, and nutria. Then there were the bigger things. Coyotes. Bobcats. Mountain lions. None of those were animals you wanted to meet in a dark alley. Or an abandoned grocery store.

Had she attracted the attention of some creature when she’d stepped outside to listen to the phone message? She must have. Crap. That was a newbie mistake. And Carter would pay the price. Because he was about to walk into the store and come face-to-face with whatever beast had followed her scent.

He was about to walk in unprepared. Because of her stupid mistake.

And she couldn’t warn him. She couldn’t call him. She had no way to let him know. Unless she walked out of the freezer and faced down this creature herself. Except, if she was wrong, if this thing was a Tick, then going out there was the last thing she should do.

Christ, she hated feeling useless. Hated knowing that her genetic makeup made her a risk to everyone around her. It was like her very blood had turned against her.

For a few heart-wrenching moments, she paced back and forth, listening to the sounds of the beast out in the store and watching baby Josie sleep. She clipped the holster she’d gotten off Ely to the waistband of her jeans. She checked the clip before sliding the gun into the holster. Seven bullets wouldn’t kill a Tick, but it would sure as hell get the beast’s attention. She picked up one of the mop handles and tested the jagged point against her thumb before sliding it through the belt loop of her jeans. She picked up her bow and quiver only to put it down again. Was she really doing this? Was she being smart or foolhardy?

Then, finally, she snatched it up and headed for the door. She didn’t have to go all the way out into the store. There was a refrigerator section right beside the deep freeze in back. She could sneak in there and look out into the store though the glass doors. If the doors were well-sealed, whatever was out there wouldn’t be able to smell her. It might see her, but it might not. She wouldn’t bring a flashlight. Her night vision was good enough that she should at least be able to tell the difference between a Tick and a mountain lion.

She waited for another burst of racket from the main part of the grocery store, then opened the freezer door, snuck out, and shut it tight behind her, all the while praying that Josie wouldn’t wake up and start crying.

A few steps later through the darkened backroom, she found the latch to the dairy case and slipped inside.

The stench of rotting food made her nostrils curl. No wonder Ely had thought these freezer sections would hide them. If the Tick’s sense of smell was strong like an animal’s, then this had to be horribly offensive to them.

Breathing shallowly through her mouth, she wended her way through discarded boxes and other trash to the shelves that made up the dairy case. Most of the food was long gone. She quietly removed the few plastic tubs and bottles that remained at eye level, and stared out.

At first she saw nothing. She could still hear something rummaging, she just couldn’t see it. It didn’t sound like a raccoon. Something bigger then. Would a mountain lion be better or worse than a Tick? Surely both would be equally dangerous, if they were hungry and hunting.

Then she saw a flicker of movement maybe twenty feet away. Then that movement morphed into a recognizable shape. Not the low, svelte swagger of a panther or mountain lion, but a hulking, upright form. A Tick.

Her heart seemed to thud to a stop. She didn’t even dare breathe. Suddenly, the dairy case seemed like a bad idea. A very bad idea.

Theoretically, it was securely closed, but that didn’t make her feel much better. The freezer section had only one door. This thing had a dozen and they were all glass.

She had to get out of here. She took one, extremely slow, step backward. And then another.

Unfortunately, he was also moving. Toward her hiding place.

Why was he alone? Ticks were pack animals. They hunted in groups. Except Ely said their behavior was changing. That the Farms had poisoned the blood at the feeding stations and killed off all but the smartest of the Ticks. Was that why this one hunted alone? Was he all that was left of his pack? The smartest of the bunch?

He was too far away for her to tell for sure, but he didn’t seem to be looking at her. He kept sniffing the air. Like he was following her trail. Okay, then. Unless something else distracted him first, he would find her. He would follow the trail right to the door of the dairy section. Or would the stench of the rotted dairy confuse him? Was the human scent of blood stronger going to the freezer section? Would he go there first? Would he be able to open the door or would he get discouraged and wander off? If he did follow her to the dairy case, the door handle’s mechanism was less complicated. He might be able to open it.

And all of this would be a moot point if Carter wandered in here in a few minutes. The Tick would catch the scent of his blood, nearby and unmuddied by rotting dairy. The Tick would bound across the store in maybe five or six leaps. Carter might have a chance to raise a weapon, if he had one handy.

No. Carter
would
have a weapon. He always did. He was cautious. He always had a plan.

The Tick moved closer to the glass door; he was the biggest she’d ever seen. When they ran or attacked, they moved with grace and speed that was as unnatural as it was terrifying. But Ticks were at a disadvantage when they walked. Slow and awkward on his feet, this guy shuffled forward upright for a few steps, dropped to his knuckles and scuttled another ten feet closer in a few easy movements. This guy was huge. In life—in human life, that was—he must have been more than six feet tall. He paused, raised up on his knuckles, head tilted to sniff the air. He resembled a gorilla way more than the human he’d once been. His body was covered in patchy hair that didn’t quite hide his bulging muscles.

Lily had no doubt, none at all, that he could crush her chest with one hand. That he could close his fist around her heart. He took another shuffling step forward, into one of the beams of moonlight. And he stood. Except for his pelt, he was naked—of course, Ticks didn’t wear clothes. She’d just never been close enough to a male Tick before to think about it. A shudder of pure disgust went through her, and she was hit with a punch of nausea that had nothing to do with the scent of rotting dairy. Bile pooled in her mouth, but she fought the urge to spit it out. She didn’t dare move.

He was close enough that she could see his eyes flash to black as his pupils contracted. If she so much as twitched, he’d see her. Hell, he could probably see her now. She was just counting on his diminished brain capacity to overlook her if she didn’t move.

Even then, her heart was pounding so strongly, she was sure he could see her pulse. Afraid to even breathe, she held her breath so long her head swam.

Then he dropped back down to his knuckles and twisted away to sniff at the air in the direction of the freezer.

She sucked in a deep shuddering breath that did little to calm her racing pulse. Okay. It was go time. She couldn’t dawdle anymore. If he was heading for the freezer, she had to act. She crept toward the door out of the refrigerator. If she timed it right, she’d fling open the door right as he reached the freezer door. She’d be close to him, but she could still get off a shot with her arrow. And she still had the stake. And the gun. Of course, she had no way of actually timing it. It’d be guesswork at best. But given the choice, she’d rather take a chance than wait for him to find her—or worse, find Josie.

At the door, she pulled an arrow from her quiver and notched it. She would nudge the latch with her elbow and step out of the door ready to fire. It was the best she could do.

Except before she got the door open, she heard something behind her. Nails on glass.

She whirled around to see the Tick back at the glass-fronted door to the dairy case. He hadn’t gone around to the freezer at all. Either he’d seen her move, or he’d tricked her into revealing her location. Could a Tick be that smart?

She spun to face him, keeping the arrow up and notched.

He lifted one massive paw and slashed at the door again. The grating sound of claws on glass rent the air. He pawed at the door with one hand and then the other, his massive brow furrowed into a frown. He clearly saw her but couldn’t figure out how to get to her. He tipped his head back and howled with rage. The sound sent her pulse racing, and pumped adrenaline through her body, making her hands shake. Adrenaline and standing still: not a great combo, but at least the adrenaline deadened some of the pain in her shoulder.

He clawed at the door again, yipping his frustration. And one of his nails caught on the edge of the door, pulling it open for a second. He stopped instantly and tilted his head to the side staring at the door for an interminable moment. Then he brought his hand forward, that same finger extended and caught his nail on the edge of the door a second time. Deliberately. It pulled open, then slipped from his nail and slammed closed. He stared at it, fascinated.

And she stood there, simply watching, unable to do anything. She couldn’t shoot an arrow through the glass. She could fire her gun, but that would do almost nothing. Unless he got the glass door all the way open, she was screwed. And if he got the door open, then she’d have exactly one chance to put an arrow through his heart.

“Come on,” she murmured softly, “Use that ugly brain of yours.”

He ignored the handle, but he obviously understood the concept of a door. He repeated the action several more times, catching the door, opening it, letting it slam closed before he thought to wedge his hand between the door and the frame. Then he opened the door all the way. And he looked at her, his features twisting into a horrible mockery of a smile.