The Wilds: The Wilds Book One (19 page)

BOOK: The Wilds: The Wilds Book One
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Chapter 26

 

 

No one would let me out the next day, not alone, not with Bookie. I was officially on lockdown, and I didn’t have time for this bullshit. Dax wasn’t even around to go hunt Dark Walkers, so what was the point? I was wasting valuable hours for no reason. Bookie and I still needed to try and find books in the library so we could come up with detailed plans of how many explosives we’d need to blow through cement. Neither of us knew what kind we had or exactly how strong, how many to set off and where. The questions seemed endless. But instead of doing any of those worthy things, I was sitting in my room, basically grounded like a child.

When I did get out again, there was a whole new issue. Bounty hunters. I had a price on my head. In one strange and overly dramatic way, it was kind of cool. It was just like some of my characters. I wondered if I had a poster, too.

In a real-life sort of way, it sucked the big one. I toyed with a lock of too-bright hair. It was like a beacon.

Maybe there
were
some things I could do while I was stuck here.

I went downstairs and saw Fudge in the kitchen.

“I need to borrow a couple of things if you don’t mind.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Borrow or keep?”

I knew she was thinking of the knife, which I returned every evening and re-borrowed every morning.

“Borrow-ish?”

She rolled her eyes. “What do you need?” she asked as she continued to mix some dark brown concoction, which may or may not have been fudge. I’d recently found out her real name was Mary. She got the nickname Fudge because she liked to make it once a month. I’d never had it myself, so I was hoping that’s what she was about.

I rattled off my list and she directed me to the various cabinets to find the items. Luckily, there was coffee in abundance. She had a nice stash of rags and she warned me not to drink too much when I took the small bottle of whiskey for good measure. Living in the well-stocked main house had some perks.

“What are you up to?” Her mixing arm stopped mid-motion as she took in my small collection.

“Nothing much.” I smiled and hightailed it out of there.

 

 

 

“What did you do to your hair? It’s darker.”

Dax’s voice startled me a few hours later. His timing was the pits. I hadn’t heard the door open, and he didn’t knock.

“Thought it might be a good idea.” I hadn’t managed to get my hair to the brown I’d hoped, but at least it was more auburn now than bright red. There were limits even to the miracle of coffee.

“It was,” he said as I could hear him take a couple more steps into the room. “Are you dripping blood?”

I kept my back to him, holding the rag to the still bleeding hand. I looked down to see a small puddle had formed in between my feet. “It does look that way.”

I turned around, keeping the rag pressed to my skin, figuring the cat was out of the bag. “A brand leaves no doubt. A scar leaves them guessing. I should’ve done it before now.”

“Let me see it.”

“It’s fine.” I didn’t need someone to care for me. I’d cared for myself well enough for a long time. Besides, it was better now, other than the blood and some pain and the almost disgusting flap of skin I’d sliced off… Blah, blah, blah; it wasn’t worth making a big thing over it.

He shrugged. “Fine, handle it yourself.” He walked over to the window seat and made himself comfortable, watching me with a
go ahead, you said you had this under control
look on his face.

“What is it with you and the faces lately?” I shot at him, annoyed that he was insisting on sitting here and watching me. “I either get no emotion or the most obnoxious expressions known to man.”

The bastard laughed at me.

“No, you and your gloating
I know it all
expressions are not funny.”

He laughed harder. Damn if the sound of it didn’t shoot right inside me and start churning stuff around, even as annoyed as I was with him. Now not only would he not leave my room, I was going to be his evening’s entertainment.

I grabbed one of the longer strips of rags and tried to wind it around my hand but I couldn’t get it tight enough to do any good, even when I tried to stick one end underneath my chin.

“You don’t have that many outfits. I’d think you wouldn’t want to bleed on the ones you do have,” he said from his comfortable perch.

I looked down and saw a speck of blood that had already stained the dark pants. Bloodstains wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but I would’ve preferred they were my enemies’, not my own.

“Fine. If you’re not going to leave, you might as well help. I guess.”

He got up, walked over to where I was and took the rag from me. He pulled off the rag and held up my hand, looking at it this way and that at the chunk of skin missing. “Not a bad job considering that you did it one-handed.”

“Why thank you. So gallant of you to notice.” I relaxed a little after he didn’t remark on the butchered edges and had stopped smiling. I knew I hadn’t done the best job ever but it had hurt like hell trying to slice skin off.

“Did you happen to borrow any of Bookie’s salve while you were gathering supplies, or was that what the whiskey was for?” He raised an eyebrow, already guessing.

“Whiskey.”

“Now that had to hurt like a bitch.”

“It didn’t tickle,” I said as my palm started sweating in his hold. I tried to concentrate on the burning that still came from it as he wound the rag almost gently around it. I’d gotten used to being close to him on the bike, but standing here, face to face in my room, was a whole different ball of wax.

He tied off the end and then bent my elbow until my hand sat next to my ear. “Keep it above your shoulder until the bleeding stops, and come with me.”

He stepped back and I was relieved I didn’t have to worry about my breathing seeming normal or my palms sweating anymore.

“Where? We going on a run?”

He squinted. “No. You’re not even done bleeding yet.” He was still shaking his head as I followed him out of my room. He walked out the front door, across the yard and through the gate. We kept walking until we were near my assassin in the forest.

He stopped and leaned against the dead tree. “Go.”

“Go where?” I asked, not following what he meant. There was no hint on his face. Expressionless Dax was back in action.

“Anywhere you want.”

There had to be a catch. Had to. He didn’t wait very long before telling me what it was, the explanation preceded by a smile. “But you’re going empty-handed. I’ve got your explosives.”

He was the only one smiling. He knew about my bombs. He had my stash.

“Not sure how you’re going to blow anything up without those,” he added, as if I couldn’t have figured that out.

“They’re mine.” Those explosives were my only hope. I couldn’t do anything without them and there weren’t that many left behind in the bunker—if he hadn’t already found them too. Bookie never would’ve said anything, but I was learning Dax had his ways.

“They’ll be yours again after you do what I want.” There might have been a smile on his face but it didn’t match his eyes.

He had me. He’d won and I’d do what he wanted. I needed those bombs more than the risk of the Dark Walkers coming for me. But if I could deliver him some quick enough, I might be able to break my friends out before every Dark Walker in the area knew I was giving them up.

He wanted full disclosure? He was going to get it. “You want the truth? They’re all over this godforsaken place. How’s that for honesty? There’s been at least one in every single place you’ve taken me. The Wilds are crawling with these monsters. How many you want? We’ll be done in no time.” I kicked some stones out of my way instead of walking over and nailing him with a solid blow like I wanted. “It’s your death.” Hopefully just his and not everyone else’s as well.

I watched and waited for a reaction from him that didn’t come. It hit me like a log to the side of my head. “You knew that they were all over this place, didn’t you?”

He shook his head. “I suspected.”

“Why?”

“Just a hunch.” He didn’t bother trying to act like he was telling the truth. It was bullshit. I was starting to believe there wasn’t a single thing in the Wilds that he didn’t have the pulse of.

“Don’t try and play me again,” he said, and turned back toward the house.

“Seriously? You guard me like I’m the most precious thing ever and now you just walk away, not caring if you leave me in the woods?” I yelled after him. “What if I change my mind? Tell you to keep the bombs?”

He stopped and turned around. “Is that what you’re saying? I should go throw a match on them?”

I started forward. “Sometimes I really don’t like you.”

“Why? Because I stole your toys?”

“For the record, they aren’t toys. They are a means to an end. But yes, that is exactly why.”

 

Chapter 27

 

 

I saw Tiffy heading my way dragging her feet, as I sat in between two rows of tomato plants. I was back to free rein again, but unfortunately, Bookie had to go help someone in the next settlement over, where they didn’t have a doctor. I was stuck again, at least until tomorrow, but it was hard to complain about it while enjoying the scent of the plants.

“Bark’s here,” Tiffy said as she shuffled over to my side, all the joy sapped from her tone.

I’d heard the name come up during one of our dinners. Bark did some trading with Dax, coffee for fuel. I looked up and around, curious to meet the person who Tiffy clearly wasn't enthused by. A man with wiry gray hair and overalls strolled across the grounds toward the house and then changed direction toward us. He looked like a typical farmer—to a normal human, that is. Not to me. Dax was doing business with a Dark Walker.

A Dark Walker had just invaded the one safe place I thought I had. I wanted to grab the knife at my ankle and kill him right now.

“I thought I heard he didn’t come by until the fall?” I asked, trying to remain calm in front of Tiffy even as I thirsted for his blood.

“He doesn’t usually,” she said as she watched him with a pout on her face. “I don’t like Bark.”

“Why? Because Dax is a little funny about him?” I remembered when the topic of Bark had come up, Dax hadn’t seemed overly enthralled with the guy. It was as if he knew something was off with him but couldn’t say for sure what it was. Boy, had he been right.

Tiffy let out a long, tired sigh that sounded like it came from a much older person. “My friends don’t like him very much either. It could be tainting my opinion, but I don’t believe so.”

Her friends might have had one knock against them—being invisible and all—but they did seem to be good judges of character. “Tiffy, can you go to the back shed and get the special shovel for me? The one no one uses that you told me about.”

“The shed all the way on the other side?” She pointed in the direction that led to the farthest corner of the grounds, as if I couldn’t mean that one.

I nodded.

Her shoulders dropped. She looked at me, already exuding fake exhaustion, and said solemnly, “Only for you will I do this.”

“Thank you,” I replied, as if she were bestowing a great honor.

She skipped off a few minutes before Bark got to me.

I grabbed a huge handful of weeds, grateful for the bandage around my hand and the mutilated skin beneath, which now replaced the brand.

Bark’s toes came just shy of stepping on plants as he paused as close to me as he could.

“I’m Bark.” He leaned forward, slightly bent at the waist with a hand extended, trying to reach me with the plants in between. I waved my handful of dirty weeds at him, not reaching over at all. “Sorry,” I said. “Little dirty right now.”

He dropped his hand and straightened. “You’re the new girl, right? I’ve heard about you.”

And boom, just like that, I was positive he’d heard I was Plaguer. It might’ve been paranoia, but my gut said he knew, and when my gut screamed like it was now, I listened.

I’d known it was only a matter of time before word got around about me. Most people talked. They couldn’t help themselves. They just ran their mouths like a spigot turned permanently on, and having someone like me in their midst must have set the stream to full blast. I just hadn’t expected there to be so many Dark Walkers for it to get around to.

I smiled and nodded. He smiled back. There was nothing friendly about the exchange. We were like two hyenas showing our teeth. He knew what I was. I knew what he was and there were no delusions past the surface layer of crap we were dishing out in each other’s direction.

He tucked his hands in his
I’m a big fake farmer
overalls
and rocked back on his heels. “So how’d you end up around here?”

Really? Were we actually going to play this out to the bitter end? “My community was taken out by a case of Bloody Death. All three thousand of them just keeled over in a day and dropped around me. It was horrible.” Lie, lie, lie. Three thousand was an absurd number for a community out here. Everyone knew that, even me, but if we were going to play make-believe I might as well have a little fun with it.

He nodded and his hyena smile grew a little toothier. I knew he didn’t believe a damn word I said and got the feeling he didn’t like the game when he wasn’t setting the rules.

“Dax around? We’ve got some business.”

Dax wasn’t there and I’d bet this jerk already knew he wasn’t. Dax hadn’t told me where he was going, but Fudge mentioned this morning that he wouldn’t be back until late tonight. “Not sure. Maybe check up at the house,” I said. “If he’s not there, maybe try in the woods. He likes to kill wild pigs and then drain their blood and drink it while he performs ritual dances.” It was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever said, and Bark’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t like that I was amusing myself at his expense. Didn’t matter. This wasn’t going to end pretty no matter what was said.

Bark nodded, his hyena teeth hidden away now as he walked off. I imagined throwing a knife at his back as I watched him enter in the house. By no means did I believe that would be the last of him.

Now what? Did I leave? Make a run for it? Should I try and tell Dax? Dax had known this guy for a lot longer than me. What if he didn’t believe me? No matter what he said or how much he didn’t like Bark, I was still the crazy Plaguer and this was someone he’d done business with for years. Would he really take my word over his?

Bark was a Dark Walker. If he left here, I was doomed. The Dark Walkers wouldn’t just leave someone out here, roaming free, that could ID them, and I wasn’t going back to the previous hell I’d been living in willingly.

I yanked a couple more weeds while I figured out a plan of action. Offense or defense? Kill him or flee? If I fled, I’d be leaving the stash of explosives behind.

I’d have to kill him. In truth, it was what I wanted to do. I’d had to flee once and I didn’t like the feel of it. But first I’d give Dax a chance to show his true colors.

He wanted a Dark Walker; I was going to deliver him one right up in his very backyard. Hopefully he’d believe me, because I wasn’t sure what would happen if he didn’t, and I hadn’t done a whole lot to encourage trust.

 

***

 

I was watching Bark and Bark was watching me. We were doing a dance of sorts. No matter where I went, I made sure I knew his location. He did his part by never being far behind. I moved. He moved. If I was in the kitchen, he showed up in the dining room, pretending to wait for Dax to do business. He thought he was stalking me. I could’ve put his mind to ease. In this moment, I was the hunter. He couldn’t have lost me if he wanted.

By the time dinner came around that night, I’d strapped my knife to my ankle and had borrowed another I wedged in between my belt and pants.

With or without Dax’s cooperation or consent, I was going to have to kill Bark after Dax got what he wanted. Bark wouldn’t leave this place and me in peace, and I was starting to realize how deeply the Dark Walkers were embedded in every aspect of this world.

I’d always thought that if I could get to the Wilds, I’d have the humans to deal with, but I would be free of the monsters. Now my suspicion that I might never be truly free was cemented, and it really pissed me off.

Bark was already there at the dinner table, waiting to eat, when the rest of us strolled in. Should’ve known he would be, considering Fudge’s manners. The fact that he was sitting in Dax’s spot, of all places, burned worse than if someone had ripped the bandage from my hand and dumped the entire contents of the saltshaker on it.

“To dinner?” Fudge asked, eyeing up both knives.

“Trying out a new look,” I said.

She rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything else.

Tiffy was on me like glue and was giving Bark a wide berth. She took in my new look and gave me a nod of approval. The kid was sharp.

Dinner was surprisingly normal, or would have been if I could’ve eaten. Every bite was forced as my adrenaline was trying to tell my stomach to go screw. So I chewed on delicious food that turned to sawdust in my mouth as I waited. I had to kill this monster before he left here. It was the only way I’d be safe.

Bark said he was going to leave at daybreak tomorrow morning if Dax wasn’t back by then. It was bullshit. He wasn’t leaving here without us having it out. I saw it in his eyes. He was going to try and kill me or take me with him before morning light. They’d all think I’d taken off on my own. Everyone knew the turmoil of my situation.

But I wasn’t going to let that happen. I watched how the rest of the house had easy banter with Bark over dinner, just chatting it up with an old buddy, only me and Tiffy with watchful eyes for the monster. Even Bookie was laughing with him.

One of my favorite times of day—which was any time we ate—ruined by this goddamn interloping monster that shouldn’t even be here. I went to my bedroom that night full but unsatisfied.

I lay upon my bed, fully clothed and awake, gripping my knife. Dax hadn’t returned and Bark was supposedly sleeping on the couch below. The only question was: wait for him to come to me or take the initiative and figure out what to do with the body afterward?

The choice was taken from me as I heard my door open. The smell of him confirmed it wasn’t one of Tiffy’s nighttime visits.

He’d come for me. I wasn’t upset. He’d saved me a trip. This wasn’t anything like killing the human the other day. Not one part of me felt anything about killing Bark, a Dark Walker. I’d killed one at the early age of four and I’d been waiting for another chance ever since.

My hand tightened around the knife as I heard him close my door. I debated whether to wait and try and find out why he was here or be safe about it and just kill him quick.

I sat up, deciding I’d take the risk and try to get something out of him. It would be nice to know what these monsters were and why they were roaming the Wilds before I did the world a favor and got rid of one.

I didn’t get the chance. The second the door clicked into place, he lunged for me. The knife released from my hand almost as if it had its own mind. It struck true in the middle of his chest and he fell to the floor, knocking into the dresser and banging it against the wall as he did.

That was loud. No way I was going to be able to sneak his dead body out of here now.

My feet had barely touched the floor when the door burst open, Dax standing in the entrance still in travel clothes. As he took in the scene, I knew it didn’t look good. Bark was lying on the floor with my knife sticking out of his chest.

I didn’t have time to explain before Bookie, Tank and Lucy were jostling to see who’d get through the door next. Lucy and Tank got in first and Bookie only had room to peek over their shoulders as they partially blocked the door. I heard Fudge in the hallway telling Tiffy to stay in bed, so I knew she was aware something was happening. Dax stayed standing where he was as Tank knelt by the body.

“Holy shit. You killed Bark?” Lucy asked, like someone else might have done it and fled the scene.

“Why’d you kill Bark?” Tank asked.

Lucy and Tank were both looking at me like maybe they didn’t quite know who I was anymore. I could feel myself getting boxed in to giving them answers they weren’t going to like. I knew whether I hung for this or not was going to come down to one man’s decision, and he wasn’t saying much of anything.

For as much as Dax wanted me to hunt him down Dark Walkers, would he really believe someone he’d known for years was one?

If Bark had just left tomorrow morning when he said he was going to, this could’ve been handled in the woods and no one would’ve linked his death back to me. They wouldn’t have had a reason. But I’d known it wasn’t going to happen like that.

I took a step forward, eyeing the knife in Bark’s chest and missing the feel of it in my hand. I hoped I wouldn’t need it again tonight.

“Why did you do that?” Tank asked again, looking at me as if I were a threat he hadn’t realized. “
How
did you do it?”

I glanced at Bookie, who also looked shocked.

I was saved from answering by Tiffy in the doorway, squeezing her head alongside Bookie’s legs. “I’m glad he’s gone.”

“Tiffy, I told you to stay in our room,” Fudge said from somewhere farther down the hall, trying to shield the young girl from seeing too much. I wish I could’ve told Fudge not to worry about it. That kid was tougher than all of us.

Tiffy smiled at me and gave me a thumbs-up before she left. She’d bought me some time. No one had wanted to pursue questioning in front of the little girl.

Dax pointed to my shoes, the only things I’d taken off when I’d gotten in bed. “Put your shoes on and come with me.” Dax moved to where Lucy and Tank knelt by the body. “You two, move him to the back shed and lock the body in. Bookie, I want you to look it over.”

“For what?”

“Anything strange.”

Lucy looked from me to Bookie, obviously not liking her role. “Why do we have—”

“Lucy, shut the fuck up,” Dax said, and Lucy’s mouth shut. But only until he walked past her to the door and she mouthed to me,
You’re gonna get it now
.

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