Page 9
I can’t bring them with me. Not a child and her babies. Not when we plan to invade a rebel camp.
But I can punish the man for what he’s done. I can make him regret ever laying a hand on Tessa.
Chapter 2
Wren
They say the residual gases and contamination in the atmosphere, from after the Dredge hit and factories went up in flames, is the reason the weather is so erratic. Why we have unbearable heat as early as sunrise, and a massive drop in temperatures by dusk.
A cold chill winds down my spine, as I sit beside the campfire where we’ve stopped for the night, along Route 66. At only a couple of months along, my belly hasn’t yet begun to show the life growing inside of me, but I somehow feel it. As if my internal organs are shifting around to make room for my womb.
A deep, cramping ache throbs in my stomach, and I clench my eyes, rubbing my hand across it, breathing through my nose while the cold and clammy sensation settles over me.
“What’s wrong?” Six places his hand over mine, the warmth of his skin leaching into my bones. Though I’ve since learned his real name, Rhys, I’ve found myself slipping too many times, calling him by the nickname I gave him all those years ago. Eventually, he insisted I keep calling him Six. He told me once that he missed hearing it during our years apart, and that it reminded him of our short time in Szolen together, when we were young and innocent.
Opening my eyes, I take in the weariness of his stare and the concern shadowing it. “It’s nothing, I’m okay. Just a little sore from traveling.”
“We should stay a couple nights, then. Let you get rested.”
“No. We need to keep moving. A good night’s rest, and I’ll be fine.” About two dozen tents make up our temporary camp, along with the dozen, or so, sleeping bags situated around each bonfire, for the men who act as lookout. We left Ceniza early this morning, leaving behind only the few survivors from Calico, who opted not to travel with us, and managed to get halfway through New Mexico by dusk. According to Rigs, after two more days of driving, we could hit Florida and find the other solar powered community. Hopefully, one more welcoming than Szolen.
“Don’t be tough, Little Bird. We’re in no hurry. We’ve got enough supplies to last a couple weeks on the road.”
“Really, I’m okay. My body’s preparing for a baby. There’s bound to be some discomfort, you know?” Smiling, I lean forward to kiss him, and he grips the back of my neck, keeping me from pulling away too soon.
“So long as you’re not in pain. You’ll tell me, right?”
“I promise.”
His brows come together, reminding me so much of the boy I fell in love with. The silently contemplative boy from the other side of the wall, who always looked troubled. “I’ll get you something to eat.”
“I can get my own.” I push against his thigh to get up, but he grips my shoulder.
“Sit, woman.” He’s on his feet before me, and bends to kiss me, before striding off toward a vat of stew two of the elder women cooked for the group.
Across the camp, I catch sight of Tripp, Six’s brother, who piles up more wood for the fire. He gives a solemn smile and a curt nod, before going back to his stacking. Somewhere in the camp, his little girl, Trinity, runs around motherless. After having betrayed the hive, I guess Leanna couldn’t bring herself to face them again. Not even for Tripp, or her daughter.
“You’re Dani, right?” The name takes me by surprise, and I turn to find a younger guy, one of the survivors we picked up from Calico a couple months back, has sat beside me. “That’s your name?”
“No one’s called me that in a long time.” I’ve seen this one around the camp, watching me from afar sometimes, but he’s never spoken a word to me until now.
“At Calico, they tell stories about you. The girl who escaped. Except, they said you were eaten by Ragers.” He doesn’t carry the multitude of scars like many of the survivors, and on instinct, my eyes divert to his nape, where there isn’t a number tattooed there. A few new scars, still pink with healing, show he didn’t escape Calico unscathed, though.
“Just goes to show you, you can’t believe everything they tell you there.”
He rubs his hands together, his brows pinching tight, as he stares off toward the bonfire. “My girl tried to escape. She wasn’t so lucky.”
It’s possible he was a new subject, just brought in from the Deadlands, but even the new ones had tattoos inked on day one. I can’t begin to think what role he played at Calico to avoid such branding. “I’m sorry to hear that. What was her name?” Though I didn’t know any other women in Calico, I make it a point to know their names, to hear their stories.
“Roz. She worked transport.” His lips tremble, eyes carrying the shine of tears. “I tried to get her out of that place. Her and … her friends.” There’s derision in his voice when he mentions them, and I get a sense they wronged her somehow. “I wanted her to be free. But she was shot by one of the guards. They left her for dead. Just … ran off without her.”
I want to tell him that, in my own experience, escape from that place was a solitary act of survival. That there wasn’t room, nor opportunity, to think about the others I left behind, ones I wish I could’ve taken with me, but I don’t.
“I think … if she’d have just waited a little longer, she could’ve come with me. With you. I would’ve protected her. I would’ve taken that bullet for her.” Even with his attention turned away from me, I catch the tear at the corner of his eye before he quickly wipes it away. “We could’ve escaped together.”
“What’s your name?”
“Kenny.” The wobble in his voice matches the rueful look in his eyes when he turns back toward me.
