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I chuckle, imagining how angry they’ll be when they do. “Clever.”
“When you’ve been evading them most of your life, you come up with clever schemes.”
Steam rises up from each mug as she gathers them from the counter and crosses the room, then heads out of the kitchen. Finishing off the last of my water, I look around the small space that holds similar props to the kitchen back at Calico where I worked: the stove, though this one is significantly smaller, the sink and counters and dishes. We once lived in a place while roaming the Deadlands that had all these props, as well, but none that actually functioned.
This place is strange, but unlike Wren, I find it intriguing. If not for Legion officers and the doctors I’d risk running into here, it’s a place I’d like to stay. One where I could raise a family with Valdys, without risk of being snatched up by marauders, or attacked by hordes of Ragers. However illusory that may seem, the fact is, I’ve lived hard my entire life. From birth. It’d be nice to simply enjoy what’s left of my time.
Wren reappears, her face emotionless as she returns to her packing. I’d have laughed uncontrollably, if I’d been tasked to offer the mugs, knowing what misfortune awaits them.
“What now?” I ask, feeling somewhat useless and antsy.
“Now we wait. Takes about ten minutes for the poppies to kick in. Once they’ve passed out, we’ll be sure to move them out of sight, but prop them up, so it’s like they fell asleep that way.”
“And how will we get the others inside?”
Wren smiles over her shoulder, stuffing another jar into the sack. “Silly girl, haven’t you learned to trust me yet?” She rifles through a drawer and pulls out a sharp blade, twisting it in front of her, before she shoves it inside her bag.
Lowering my gaze, I crack a smile and nod. “Of course. You already have it figured out.”
With the soldier’s legs stuffed beneath my armpits, I hobble along, struggling to hold my grip, as Wren and I carry him across the porch and lean him up against the wall of the house. She takes a moment to prop one of his legs, giving the appearance that he casually fell asleep while on watch.
By the time we’re finished, I’m out of breath.
“Okay, let’s go.” She takes the lead, down the front porch, and keeps to the shadows as she crosses the yard. “We’ll stay off the main road where Legion patrols,” she whispers.
The moon is high in the sky by the time we reach a fence of some sort, where a sign hangs from it.
“Do not touch the wires, unless you like your insides extra charred.” Wren places a stick between them, lifting one high enough to climb through. Her comment brings to mind the soldier I saw cooking on a spit back at the marauder camp, where Neela, Cadmus and I were captured after we escaped Calico. The soldier, I’m certain, was still breathing when they strung him up.
The thought of him stirs a shiver as I step through.
Once on the other side of the fence, I twist around and hold the stick for her, as well, waiting for her to climb through.
“You’ve done this before, I take it.” Tossing the stick to the ground, I trail her footsteps into the dark woods ahead of us.
“I have. When I first met Rhys, he was a prisoner of Calico, nothing but a broken shell of a boy. Battered and scarred. He couldn’t even speak, after all the atrocities he suffered. I snuck out with some rope and helped him escape that place.”
“He was in Alpha project.” It’s not a question. It’s clear from the unnatural size and build of his body that he’s been subject to the same treatment as Valdys, Cadmus and Titus. No one in the desert is built that way, not when food is scarce. “How long?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe a couple years? He doesn’t talk about it often.” She glances back at me, before climbing over a fallen tree branch. “You and the two Alphas …. What’s your story?”
There’s an inexplicable twinge of hesitation in telling her. Part of me likes the curiosities we invite with our unconventional companionship. It tends to make others keep their distance. “We’re friends.”
“Friends? From what I’ve learned of Alphas, they tend to be aggressive.” She pauses midstride and swings around, and I get the sense she wants this conversation had before we reach our destination. “Sexually so.”
My defenses flare with her accusation. The last two months of traveling with these men, who’ve done nothing but look after me, is something I’ll be grateful for long after we find Valdys. In that time, the only aggression they’ve shown is toward each other. “Whoever supplied you with that information knows nothing about Alphas. I’m certain you would’ve given caution otherwise.”
The corner of her lip quirks. “You’re right. I gave little care to the warnings when it came to Six. But he was a boy then. Not a full grown man. Their needs differ greatly.”
“They respect me.”
“Why? What purpose do you serve for them?” She looks around the forest. “It seems they could get what they seek from any one of the hives, without having to share. Easily taking what they want.”
She’s right. They could’ve easily stayed behind and had their fill of women, who’d have fallen at their feet for the protection they could provide in these harsh lands. Some did proposition them, in fact, which only proves my point about them. “Why do you make them out to be monsters? Sex-depraved villains? These men have nearly lost their lives for me over the last two months.”
“I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.” She holds out a hand and offers a slight smile. “Friends?”
Still wary of her, I reach to shake her hand.
