Read The Wilds: The Wilds Book One Online
Authors: Donna Augustine
“Will it even work?” Fudge asked.
“I don’t know. But I’ve run out of leads.”
“Do you think she knows she’s one of the last ones left?”
“I think she has an idea. It’s good she’s tough. She’s going to need to be.” I heard some movement and scraping of chairs. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night.”
When I woke the next morning, my head felt like it was trying to revolt from my body and holding violent protests to accomplish its goal. Oh no, maybe eating too much did bring back the Bloody Death, because I felt like I’d died and been reheated. I better not do that again. It had tasted so damn good, though.
What if there was no redo? What if I was contagious already? What if I was already spreading it to everyone? I had to get out of here.
I didn’t bother changing clothes. I grabbed the discarded boots from last night and only stopped long enough to pause at the door, listening. It sounded relatively quiet, so a lot of people were probably sleeping in.
I tiptoed down the hall, ran down the stairs and was out the front door before the people at the buffet noticed me. It was a good thing I wasn’t hungry, because I couldn’t risk close contact with the breakfast crowd, even lighter as it was today. The sun seemed brighter than normal as I made it to the front lawn.
“Where are you going?”
Shit. Of all the people of course it would be Dax, and damn he sounded louder than normal. My head was already about to split open from the Plague as it was. I’d hoped to slip out and not have to tell a soul that I was sick.
I turned to find him leaning on the corner porch post, suspicion in his eyes. I’d learned one thing about Dax. You either read nothing on his face or what he felt like showing you. This look was a warning.
“Nowhere. Was just taking in the morning air.”
He pushed off the post and walked a few steps in my direction. “You wouldn’t be thinking of running out on our bargain?”
“No, of course not.”
He nodded but his face still looked suspicious.
“How are you feeling today?”
Not only was my head pounding but I felt like my heart was also looking to exit my body. If I told him what I feared, that maybe I was getting sick, he might kill me. It was amazing that someone from the Wilds would be so open-minded toward a Plaguer in the first place. How far would he go? If I was sick, would he let me walk or kill me here where I stood like generations of his people before him?
“I’m feeling great.”
“Really? I’m surprised after all that whiskey you drank.”
“What do you mean?” It was the booze that made me sick? Not the food? Please say it was so.
“As much as you drank, men twice your size would still be laid out or vomiting their guts up.”
I wasn’t sick and I could still eat? I wasn’t dying? I wanted to jump into the air, or would once my stomach settled down some and the world got steadier.
I still felt close to death but I couldn’t let that stop me. The people at the compound had stolen enough years of good food from me.
“Breakfast buffet still out?” I said, moving closer to the house and peeking through the door, knowing I’d gotten up later than normal.
“Yeah,” he said, and for the first time ever, it looked like he was actually really going to laugh. He didn’t, but he got really close.
I left him on the porch while I struggled toward the buffet line. Nothing smelled the same today, but I was eating whether my body wanted it or not.
With a heaping plate of food, I made my way out to the back porch to eat in peace. Then Lucy showed with a heaping plate of food of her own and made a loud disgruntled noise when she saw me, making it clear this was her spot and she was annoyed. I felt like saying this wasn’t my first morning in this spot either but didn’t bother. I had a job enough getting all this food down. I couldn’t add talking to the chores.
She sat on the other bench and then stared at me while I tried to pretend she wasn't there.
“I’ll share my breakfast spot but I will not be chitchatting with a Plaguer every morning,” she finally spat out.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, wondering why she thought I would have any desire to have chitchat, as she called it, with her. I hated small talk. I wasn’t good at it, and if I was going to make an attempt, it would not be wasted on her.
I looked out at the land, imagining I was alone, as I took in the beauty and told myself that I would not throw up.
“You stupid girls all want to talk about your hair or what dress you want to make and what stupid colors to dye the fabric. And if it’s not that stupid shit, it’s who’s a good provider and who just wants a quick lay.”
I looked back to Lucy where she was now shuddering in distaste, and just nodded. I didn’t feel the need to mention that my hair looked like a rat’s nest again and that I was in the same clothes I’d worn to the feast last night. I didn’t care enough to bother.
“And we aren’t going to become best buddies and start jarring jams together.”
Oh geez, when would this chatter stop? “Noted,” I said in between mouthfuls, hoping an acknowledgment might help.
She stabbed at some of the food on her plate. “And I know Dax is attractive, but seriously? You just
met
him. You think you’d wait at least a week or so before falling into bed with him, even if he did come along to your rescue.”
I had to pound my own chest with my fist to dislodge the sausage stuck in it so that I could speak. “What?” I asked even as a piece of meat was still trying to cling to a tonsil. “I did not sleep with Dax. Who said I slept with him?”
She looked over and cocked her head to the side. “You didn’t? Sure looked that way to me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
She leaned back and made some hmm noises. “Okay, I see what’s going on here.”
I coughed free the last bit of meat, enough to squeak out, “Mind sharing?”
“After he took your drunk ass to bed last night, he didn’t come back downstairs until about twenty minutes later and looking quite more disheveled than before he’d taken you in the house.”
“So?”
She rolled her eyes. “Clearly you don’t get it, but I, more worldly than you, got the distinct impression he’d just gotten laid, especially after all the cow eyes you were giving him letting everyone know you were ready and willing.”
He was good looking but I hadn’t thrown myself at him or anything…had I? My mind shuffled through blurry memories and the words
you’re pretty
came to mind. Then I remembered how soft his hair was. Had I curled my fingers into it when he’d danced with me? Oh shit, I had.
I didn’t say anything while I waited for the first wave of mortification to pass, hoping it would get better soon.
“You could see how a person would come to a certain impression. No one else was in the house,” she said like I was dumber than the patch of dirt five feet away.
“But why would he do that?” I asked. I sifted through more memories. He hadn’t touched me at all. Not a hint of anything sexual, but then he walked back out and made everyone think he had?
Lucy exhaled the longest drawn-out sigh I’d ever heard before she said, “So no one else would touch you.”
“I don’t get it.”
Her look made me think I’d dropped in her estimation, but I couldn’t think of anything dumber than dirt.
“Looks like I’m going to have to school you on this as well. It’s all about ass kicking when you get right down to it. There’s two types of women in the Wilds. Ones like me, that kick ass, and ones like you, who get their asses kicked. You’re either on one side of the line or the other. Although you might have shown some aptitude in willing to kick ass, you are still on the shit side of the line and look primed to get a boot to the butt at any second.
“Dax, on the other hand, is such an ass kicker, no one screws with him, like ever, because they know they’ll get their ass kicked. He’s almost got his own line. It’s such a sure thing that he can kick everyone’s ass that him claiming you as his keeps your ass from getting kicked by association. No one will mess with you now.” She made a little flair gesture with her fork and then said, “You’re welcome.”
There was only one problem with her spiel. “But isn’t this place his? Couldn’t he just say something like ‘don't kick her ass’?”
“I’m not saying it wasn’t overkill, but it’s not like he’s here twenty-four-seven, either. Things still happen. He was probably being safe.”
“But he didn’t try…” I shut up, realizing I was disclosing more than I wanted but it was too late.
“Of course he didn’t. He’s a gentleman. He would’ve wanted to wait until you were sober.” She looked at me, eyes round and eyebrows raised, with a
do you finally get it yet
kind of look.
I leaned back. It was just like the guards at the compound. But I hadn’t asked for his protection, so I certainly didn’t see the need to pay for it in that manner. Not that he was a bad-looking guy or anything, but it wasn’t how I saw my first time happening.
Or was it? I could do worse, way worse. After last night I could hardly deny finding him attractive. Apparently everyone in the immediate area knew it now. I was human after all, and he did have this thing about him. He’d probably thought I had initiated it too. The girls at the compound had done much less to get their guard boyfriends.
And
I was in survival mode.
And he was hot.
And I was also eighteen, fully grown. I’d told myself after I got out of the compound I would live life to its fullest potential. Shouldn’t that include sex? Maybe I should sleep with him? I mean, Moobie had all sorts of sexual conquests, and if I were being completely up front, I was curious what the deal was about.
The backdoor swung open and Dax was standing in between Lucy and me on the porch. “You ready?”
“For what?” I asked, almost stuttering. Did he want to do it now? I’d just accustomed myself to the idea of doing it but I needed a little time to prepare.
He was facing me, and Lucy was behind him and nodding an
I told you so
face.
“We’ve got work to do.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Here,” he said, handing me a pile of clothes.
“What are these?”
“Something to make you blend a bit where we’re going. Meet me in front in fifteen.” He walked back in the house.
Bookie was the first person to see me in my new getup when I came down the stairs. He looked me over in the non-creepiest of ways before announcing his verdict: “Cool outfit.”
“Thanks.” He was probably being nice, but my hands ran over my new clothes anyway. These fit, almost like someone had altered them especially for me, and when I’d looked in the mirror, I looked a little like Lucy now. I had a sleeveless shirt and leather patches on my pants. I’d pulled my hair back so the red coloring wasn’t quite so obvious. I might even blend, like I was a Wilds native.
Bookie leaned on the balustrade with a book under his free arm. “Dax is out front, waiting. Said you’d be back for dinner.”
“Another buffet?” What would there be to eat tonight? Dinners were even better food then breakfast, and I was finding that the highlight of my day was mealtime.
“No, that’s only in the mornings and special stuff, like Dax coming home. Everyone does their own thing at night. It’ll just be us, you know, the people who live in the main house.”
I had no idea who actually lived in the main house but I nodded anyway. “Okay, I’ll see you later,” I said, heading out to the front door, knowing without anyone having to tell me that Dax wasn’t going to be big on waiting.
Dax was sitting on his bike just where I expected him. He looked me over as well but wasn’t as forthcoming with an opinion like Bookie. I’d heard that men were supposed to compliment a woman when they wanted to sleep with them. Even the guards at the compound had told the girls they were sleeping with how pretty they were.
Dax must have thought I was somewhat attractive if he wanted to sleep with me. Then again, it wasn't like I was going to tell him he was pretty again, not while I was sober. Maybe we wouldn’t have that kind of relationship. On the other hand, he had said I was “tougher than he’d expected.” Maybe that was the “you’re so pretty” in the Wilds?
“Get on,” he said, jarring me from my musings.
“So where are we off to?” I asked as I climbed on the back of the bike, much more aware than ever before of where my hands touched him, wondering if maybe we would do
it
tonight?
“A traveler’s hole.”
“What’s that?”
“People who do business with the different countries go up and down certain routes. There’s one that runs from Myers all the way up to Newco and it has stopovers every so often.”
“Have you ever been to Myers?” I asked. Once upon a time, the country of Myers had been the state of Florida, back when the world had been full of people and promise.
“I’ve been to all of them,” he said, leaving me wondering if it had been in his search for Plaguers.
I’d hoped he hadn’t had to look that hard. It added another preoccupation to the list of things spinning in my head at any given moment, which was already juggling: break the girls out, avoid the Dark Walkers and the newest addition, have sex with Dax.
The bike roared and that was the end of conversation, which I was kind of grateful for. If I was one of the last Plaguers, I didn’t want to know. I didn’t even want to contemplate it.
We drove for a couple of hours south before he stopped the bike outside a brick building, about half the size of
Eat, Drink, Sleep
. This one only read
Bob’s
over the door. I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d be meeting this illustrious Bob inside, who was so important his name encompassed all other needs.
Dax got off the bike and said, “We need to talk about—”
I held up my palms to stop him—so much for what he knew about Plaguers. “Before you say anything, I can’t choose what I see and I can’t always get a read, either. There is no prepping and there is no control.” After I schooled him, I tugged at my gloves, admiring how they added a certain something to my new tougher look. I just needed a gun holstered to my hip or a knife strapped to my thigh and I’d
really
look the part.
“I don’t want their histories. That’s not what I’m after.”
I dragged my eyes up from my fascination with how cool I looked in my new clothes to his face. I shook my head and then froze. “Then what do you want?” I asked, hoping he didn’t mean the only thing left I could do, mark people as Dark Walkers. The look he was throwing at me was as promising as storm clouds over a picnic.
He was staring at me like a man who knew what he wanted and this had nothing to do with my conversation with Lucy and sex. I wished it had. The decision on whether to have sex with him or not was a lot easier than giving in to what I thought he was going to ask of me.
He lifted his eyebrows as if chastising me for trying to fake ignorance. “I needed a Plaguer for a reason. I could’ve dug up people’s backgrounds on my own. I’m looking for Dark Walkers.”
I hadn’t heard that term outside my own head since I’d entered the Giant. There were only two things that truly scared me on this Earth. Number one wasn't an immediate problem, but number two on my list was about to get trampled all over. I wasn’t messing around with Dark Walkers until I was ready to bust the girls out. Drawing their ire prematurely was a really bad plan of action. Tipping people off about their identities? That was guaranteed to piss them off and get every one of those things after me.
I’d been locked away long enough with my thoughts to come to one firm belief. The Dark Walkers were somehow responsible for the condition of the Plaguers. I didn’t know how many of them existed but I knew that if I started outing them, they’d come for me en masse, deep in the Wilds or not. Breaking my friends out of the compound would become impossible. I’d lose all the advantage of a surprise attack. Instead of biding my time and planning when to hit, I’d become the hunted again.
It could not happen.
I started shaking my head vehemently and then got a hold of myself. I couldn’t act defensive. “You heard wrong. There are no such things as Dark Walkers. You put too much faith into rumors.”
“Don’t deny it. It’s beneath you to run scared.”
He looked at me like he was disappointed. I tried to shrug it off but it bugged the shit out of me.
He had to hit my soft spot with the scared comment, didn’t he? No matter, I wouldn’t go down that easy. “Not scared. There’s nothing to tell.”
“We have a deal.”
I shook my head and stepped away from him. “I promised to tell you about the flashes, the scars people have.”
“No. You didn’t.”
I thought back to that first conversation and he was right. I’d
assumed
what he’d wanted was histories. He’d never specified. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I backed up a couple more steps.
“That first meeting at the compound, Ms. Edith was one, wasn’t she? I could tell how you acted.”
“Or maybe she was just a bitch?”
“Bullshit.”
Denying wasn’t going to work. Time to switch tactics. “Dax, I don’t know if what I see is even real.”
“We both know it is.”
It was nice to have someone finally believe me, but this wasn’t the time to get all conspiracy buddies, thick as thieves, on each other just because he might be as crazy as I was.
“If you wanted one so bad and you knew Ms. Edith was one, why didn’t you go after her? Why bother with me at all?”
“Wasn’t conducive to my plans.”
“But you think there might be one in this place that will work better for your plans?”
“I got you out. You would’ve died there. You made a deal, now honor it.”
“I’ve told you a gazillion times now, I was going to get out. I wasn’t going to die in that place. You didn't ‘save’ me.” And he thought I had a problem listening to what he said. “If this is the big reason you
helped
me escape then tell me why? What do you want with them?”
“That’s my business.” He took a step forward and the shutter on his expressions dropped all the way down and it said this was happening one way or another. “Don’t tell me you aren’t going to do this.”
I wasn’t going to get out of this, at least not on the up and up. Hands on my hips, I asked, “What are you going to do if I point a Dark Walker out?”
“It won’t be your problem.”
“According to you,” I said. I shook my head and made some grumbling noises like I was really going through with it. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
He shot me a look.
My hands dropped along with my will to argue the point anymore. “Enough with the looks. I get it already.”
He did the most unexpected thing then. He laughed and I felt my legs go weak, because when Dax laughed something very strange stirred within me and I had no idea what the hell the feeling was but it made me want to laugh with him.
Luckily he stopped before I made a fool of myself gawking at him and he headed toward Bob’s front door. He paused on the stoop. “No fighting today.”
“You act like I enjoy fighting.”
“You don’t?” His eyebrows shot up. “Few words of advice, just because your hands are free doesn’t mean you should use them to punch everyone in the face.”
I opened my mouth and then paused as his words really sank in. Maybe I did like to fight on some level, enjoyed the surge of feeling it brought to me. When I’d been at the compound, fights had been the only time I’d felt like I was among the living. “Still, not why I did it last time.”
“I know why you did it.”
“Why?” I said, doubting him.
“Because you can’t stand to see someone weaker getting pushed around.”
I shrugged. So he was a good guesser. I’d clearly been in a weaker position in my past. Guessing that my inclinations lay toward helping the underdog wasn’t that much of a leap.
“It’s an admirable trait, but you need to learn you can’t always help others, especially when
you are
the weaker one. Sometimes it’s smarter to sit back and wait.”
I dug deep into my well-honed theatrics, wanting to accent each word. “And sometimes, you wait so long there’s nothing left to fight for.” I threw my hands up. “The war’s lost while you’re still sitting around waiting to get in the game.”
Instead of him being impressed with my wisdom, his eyes rolled. “Fine. But no wars today.”
“No matter what?” No way I could agree to that. “What if it’s something really bad? War-worthy bad?”
“No matter what imaginary plight of the hooker you might think you see, talk to me before you do anything stupid.”
“I never do anything stupid,” I said. “Saving the hooker was not stupid. It was noble.”
“If she’d needed saving, maybe. She didn’t, so it was a little stupid.” He held up his thumb and pointer finger to emphasize.
I pulled open the door to the great and powerful Bob’s and walked into the dark interior, debating whether I would sleep with him after all. He sure didn’t know how to woo a girl.
The place was dark and smelled stale, with the odors of people that lacked the resources of fresh clothing and proper hygiene. I was actually grateful for the smoke filling the room from a group puffing away in the center, who looked like they were doing some tobacco trading.
I scanned the place, not from any desire to do due diligence but because I needed to act the part. Wasn’t as if I could walk the room shuttering my eyes and play it off while chanting,
No, no, no, I see nothing
.
My gaze passed right over a Dark Walker in the first thirty seconds. Figured there’d have to be one sitting in the corner, all ready to be plucked out of obscurity.
He looked just like someone from the Wilds, blended perfectly, but he was definitely a Dark Walker. Why would a Dark Walker look like a native to the Wilds? Only one reason. They were not only deeply involved in the country but they’d infiltrated the Wilds too. How many more were there? Were they watching over every aspect of the human race?
We stepped over to the bar as I made a show of looking at the entire place and trying to ignore the one who should’ve been my target.
Dax placed a coin down on the rough wood. It was Newco money and I guessed most of the people here did enough business with the country to make it a viable currency. “Two ales,” Dax said to the scruffy guy behind the bar whose beard was about a year overdue for a trim.
I wanted to ask why it wasn’t fuel, but that would show my ignorance to the barkeep who was still in hearing distance. The bartender placed two foaming mugs down a minute later, one right in front of me garnished with a dead fly floating on top.
The barkeep moved away and I looked for an excuse to not drink.
“Where does all the fuel come from?” I asked. He had to have a steady supply for the bikes. “I thought fuel was scarce in the Wilds?”
“It is. I’ve got a rig,” he said. Dax grabbed the ale with the fly that was in front of me, flicked the offending bug out and then took a swig. He pushed the other mug my way, obviously expecting me to drink it. “You want to survive, learn to blend.” His eyes shot to the ale.
“A rig?” I asked, more concerned with the mug I was to drink from. All those years in the compound, I never thought I’d miss anything about the place, but clean mugs were making it a close call. My drink, the cleaner of the two, still had a layer of greasy film that coated my fingers as they wrapped around it. I had to make a conscious choice not to throw up as I tilted the fluid back. Surprisingly, it had a nice taste. Not good enough to completely overwhelm my gag reflex but I managed to keep it down.