Survival Instincts, page 13
Lynn pulled the bread apart and smushed the cheese between the halves. She hummed at the sour taste as it hit her taste buds.
“It’s actually a nice day.” Dani looked up at the clear blue sky. The muscles of her jaw flexed as she chewed.
Lynn took another bite and contemplated her surroundings. She supposed it was true; everything man-made was decaying, but nature blossomed. The area was green and lush, with flecks of color breaking up the singular palette. The relentless barrage of sun, wind, and rain had reduced most of the cars here to a state of collapse, making them less present somehow. Birds and monkeys sang and yowled in chorus. Lynn could see how—if the world had been a little less deadly—it might be enjoyable. That was a dangerous thought. Letting down your guard was a surefire way to get killed. “We should go before your feet give out entirely.”
Dani sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” She held her bread with her teeth and pushed Skeever off her.
He got up reluctantly and went straight for her lunch.
Lynn took pity. She pushed away from the railing and grabbed the dog’s collar. “Come here, you.”
He struggled against the hold but stayed in place after another firm yank.
Dani sent her a look of gratitude and hurried to stand up. A flash of agony scrunched up her face, and she groaned around her lunch. After she closed her backpack, she shook out her feet one at a time. She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. “This,” she said, “is torture.”
Lynn couldn’t help grinning. “I thought you were supposed to be the big, bad hunter? You must be used to walking.”
“Not for days on end!” Dani hoisted her backpack onto her shoulders. “Besides, most of what I do is either short tracks from trap to trap or lots and lots of lying in wait with a short dash at the end. I can stand for hours, sit on my haunches for ages, but walking? Not my thing.”
Lynn let Skeever go and watched him bounce around a few times before circling them and racing off. She gave Dani’s shoulder a teasing pat. “Well, you’ll either get used to it really fast or be in agony for the rest of the trip, won’t you?”
Dani slumped a little. “Don’t remind me.”
For the first time, Lynn found herself sympathizing with Dani’s plight a little.
“I think we should have taken the other lane after all.” Dani leaned against the fence over the divider to peer at the other side of the road.
Lynn climbed one of the abandoned cars and looked out over the mess ahead. Why was this road system so bloody massive? Had the Old Worlders navigated this tangle of supersized roads with ease, or had they been as confused as Lynn was by all the overhead signs, exits, and rows upon rows of lanes? “I don’t know. I think our exit is still up ahead. The last sign said Manhattan to the right, didn’t it? And that’s not the one we want. I think that if we head on, we should be directed off this interstate and onto the right one eventually.”
Dani looked back at her with a frown. “Maybe.”
Lynn put her hands on her hips and sighed. She scanned the horizon. It was a mess of green and roads, a convergence point for a number of lanes as they swirled from the streets below onto the height of the overpass. “The map said we were on an island, so we have to go over another bridge to get off. I don’t think we have yet. If we go straight on, we’ll cross the water and we’ll come to another split. There we make sure we go on along the 278.” Well, that’s your plan anyway.
Dani climbed the stone divider and gripped the fence with her fingers. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the rapidly fading sunlight and peered out over the road as if searching for a divine sign.
Skeever crawled into a car, out of sight.
Lynn kept her balance on the car’s roof while she turned to look back at the weird little houses with the boom barriers that they had just passed. Signs above had read cash and E-ZPass. Neither had meant anything to her.
“Okay, I guess you’re right.” Dani jumped down and hissed. She shook out her feet again.
Lynn climbed down carefully to spare her arm. Fine pair we make. She bit back a snort. “So onward?”
“Onward.” Dani squinted. “Skeever?”
“He’s in there.” Lynn nodded at the skeletal vehicle that was distinguishable from the rest only by the fact that its roof hadn’t rusted away completely.
“What’s he doing in there?”
Lynn heard the high-pitched squealing long before she glimpsed inside. “Lunch.”
“Lunch of—oh!” Dani swiveled away. She swallowed, presumably to keep her own down.
Skeever pulled a wormy little creature, a baby rat, from the tattered remains of the backseat cushioning. He threw his head back, crushed the small meal, and swallowed. His tail pounded the back of the passenger seat.
Lynn grinned at Dani. “How can you be a hunter and yet be so damn squeamish?”
“There is a big—” She paused and swallowed. The hand not around her spear lay on her abdomen. “Big difference between butchering an animal and then roasting it over a nice fire or eating live mice.”
“Rats.”
“What?”
“Those are rats. The tail.” She held her thumb and index finger a few inches apart. “Rat.”
Dani squinted. “Is that really what matters here?”
“Probably not.” Lynn grinned. “But I can’t help being just a little bit amused.”
“Whatever.” Dani scrunched up her features when a high-pitched cry sounded, then cut off abruptly.
Lynn leaned against the car’s frame as she waited for Skeever to finish his meal. “Be happy he catches most of his own food.” She was; if he didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to keep him.
Dani didn’t reply. She walked over to the railing and looked down.
Lynn listened to the birds, enjoyed the sun, and made sure they were still alone. Respite, but she was also getting anxious. She really wanted to make it over the bridge today. “Skeeve, come on.” She pushed away from the car and snapped her fingers at knee-height. “You’re done.”
Skeever tilted his head up. His reddened tongue lolled. His enthusiasm seemed to have returned as his stomach had filled.
“Coming?” Lynn had already walked off.
Dani fell in line with a glare at Skeever.
Skeever licked his lips and trotted off, head in the wind.
Lynn stared out ahead. They must be getting close to the bridge leading off this island now. When they did, how was she going to find her route out of New York? Would it be listed on any signs? The sun sank lower as she studied every sign, either on the side of the road or overhead. The anxiety returned in the form of sweaty hands and a swelling heartbeat that worsened the painful pulsing in her arm. What if it wasn’t listed?
The next overhead sign said something about bridges that meant nothing to Lynn, but the one after that said to take the next right for the 278 East. Far more important was the red and blue shield above the sign next to it, which read: 87 North. Her exit.
Lynn expressly focused on the road that led east. “That’s the one, right?”
Dani glanced up at the signs. “278 to Bruckner expwy and New England?”
“The 278 part is correct, according to the map. I have no idea what the other things are. They aren’t on the map, I think. Want me to check?” Lynn moved to slide her backpack off.
Dani shook her head. “No, we don’t have a choice anyway. East is where we want to go. The 278 is the road we were looking for, not the 87. So let’s take the exit and find somewhere to sleep tonight.” She peered up at the rapidly sinking sun. “I don’t think I’ll get to soak my feet.”
Lynn nodded. “’Fraid not.” She stole a glance at the 87 sign one more time before she followed Dani over the bridge and toward the first exit.
The lock clicked under Lynn’s gentle prodding. A flash of pride surged in her chest. If only I’d had these when they locked me up in that damn closet. She would have been out of New York by now. “There we go.” Almost every building on this street had been secured with a roll-up garage door and a small roll-up next to it with, presumably, a regular door behind it. This door was the only one without a security grate and had thus become the target of her lock-picking skills. She stowed her tools and picked up her tomahawk. While crouched to the side of the door, she pushed the metal door open.
It creaked horribly.
Dani jumped. She clutched her spear and whipped her head about to look down both sides of the street.
Lynn stood and peered inside. She inhaled deeply. Dust. Mold. It didn’t smell of animals or death.
Skeever almost knocked her over in his hurry to explore the inside of the garage.
The only bit of light from a source other than the door opening came from small holes in the metal grate right next to it. The garage was small and still held a big, red car that filled up almost the entire space.
Skeever didn’t growl nor bark. She could hear him sniffing in the echoing brick box.
“Let’s go in.” A quick inspection revealed Skeever’s nose had been right: the space was deserted. Lynn slid off her pack and groaned when her shoulders came to life with an explosion of pinpricks.
Dani closed the door behind her quickly, minimizing the duration of the noise, then pushed the room’s sole chair under the handle to bar it.
Lynn tried to open the driver’s side door. It gave. When she pulled the handle, the rubber seals around the edges of the door panel extended for the last time, then crumbled into dust. She threw her hair back and bent down to peer inside. The upholstering was fairly intact. No signs of snakes, poisonous spiders, deadly traps, or anything else that might cause harm. Nothing scurried away, and if there were ratholes, they weren’t apparent.
She slid in gingerly and laid her tomahawk on her lap so she had her hands free to run along the leather-covered steering wheel. Dust came away in flakes and tickled her nose unpleasantly. She grinned in spite of it.
When Dani pulled the passenger side door open, the sound of the rubber seals coming unstuck echoed through the garage.
Skeever scratched at the concrete floor in a corner.
The pedals under Lynn’s feet moved to various degrees, which heightened both the experience and her sense of glee. She’d never seen a car this intact and could almost imagine how it would be to drive it.
Dani slid in and stilled.
“Have you e—?” The words died on Lynn’s lips as the last of the daylight caught on something metallic in Dani’s lap.
Dani’s fingers tightened around the handle of her long butchers’ knife.
Amusement turned acidic in Lynn’s gut. Her hand twitched as a prelude to lifting from the wheel.
“Don’t.” Dani’s tone was short. She turned her head to look at her and tilted the tip of the knife in Lynn’s direction with a minute motion of her wrist. The rest of her body was tense. “Don’t take your hands away.”
Lynn swallowed and tightened her hold on the steering wheel instead. Dani was a hunter and had a hunter’s reflexes. There was no way Lynn could grab, angle, lift, and bring down her tomahawk before Dani ran her through. Options! She could throw herself out of the car and hope Dani didn’t get her first—hope the tomahawk wouldn’t skitter away into the solidifying darkness and leave her defenseless while she grabbed her knife. She could try a bare-handed attack and pray she could get the knife out of Dani’s hand. Risks, risks, risks. “What are you doing?”
“We need to talk.” Dani’s voice strained like something bound and prodded.
“Since when do we talk with weapons?” Lynn tried to put amusement into her voice, but the tightness in her throat mangled it to something shrill and adversarial. She set her jaw and forced herself to look away from the knife and up to Dani’s face.
“Since we’re at a…uh…well, a fork in the road. Literally.” Dani managed a little snort.
When their gazes met, Lynn’s insides churned. She knows. Instinct took over. Deny it! “Fork? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t do that!”
Lynn startled. Her hand flitted away from the steering wheel.
“Last warning! Keep ’em on the wheel, or I’ll have to—to—”
“Do what, Dani? Are you going to kill me?” Lynn halted her hand but didn’t move it back. These inches closer to a weapon were too hard earned. She took her fear and turned it to anger. “Hm? Is that the plan? Spit it out!”
“I don’t know!” The shout seemed to drain some of Dani’s hostility. She slumped into the seat, but the knife didn’t budge. That wasn’t anger in her eyes now; that was desperation. “I don’t know, Lynn. What do you want me to say? To do?”
Lynn stared her down. She took advantage of Dani’s inner turmoil by lowering her hand a few inches more. “What’s going on?” Back to neutral, maybe a bit of care. She needed to figure out what chord to strike to get out of this situation—and fast.
“Could you not lie to me?” The unspoken for once was as loud as Dani’s voice in the claustrophobically small space.
Lynn didn’t react. She wondered if Dani could hear her heart pounding.
Dani took a deep breath. “When you run away tonight, were you going to kill me first?”
“What?” Lynn frowned and shook her head. “No, I wasn’t.”
Dani inspected her. “That’s stupid.”
Lynn felt dizzy, a physical reaction to the continually shifting tone of the conversation. “Wha—why?”
“I could hunt you down.”
Lynn shorted. “No offense, but I sincerely doubt that.” She nodded at Dani’s feet. “You can barely walk, and you’re exhausted. Yeah, you have the food, but I’ve been without food before. And I’ll have Skeever. You’d limp back to the Homestead instead of coming after me.”
Dani’s hand around the knife twitched.
Lynn’s gaze flitted down. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You’re wrong.”
Too quick, too shaky. “I’m not.”
Dani’s eyes narrowed, and she sat up straighter. “You are.”
Lynn’s certainty faltered. She was silent for several seconds. “Even if you did, Dani…” She felt the strong urge to drive this point home, just in case Dani was really stupid enough to come after her. “You won’t be able to catch up. You’re a good hunter—you must be—but you’re not used to the Wilds. You can’t track me on the roads; you can’t move as fast as me, and you’d be in danger the whole time.” She reached out toward Dani but withdrew before she touched her.
Dani squinted at the hand, but her posture had slumped as if the dose of reality Lynn had unloaded onto her shoulders was weighing her down.
Lynn seized the moment. “Really, Dani. You’re so much better off just letting me go. Tell them I died or something or that I knocked you out and ran away. That you tried to find me but couldn’t. They’d take you back. They wouldn’t be angry.”
Dani seemed to consider the proposal. The knife remained trained firmly on Lynn.
“I could tell you where to go, and you can have the map. I’ll tell you all the markers I remember. You can go back to the Homestead; the whole group can go out to get him, and it’ll be much safer than just you and me. All you have to do is agree to let me go, okay? Think about it. You didn’t want to come out here either, did you?”
The almost imperceptible headshake felt like a major victory.
“Good.” Lynn smiled softly, and risked a now-deliberate move of her hand toward Dani as a sign of comradery.
Dani tensed. Her features were becoming harder and harder to decipher now that the light had drained away almost entirely.
“Sorry.” Lynn shifted and forced her body to relax even though every fiber in her being pushed at her to grab her tomahawk. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” She smiled. “Do you have a candle or something?”
Dani nodded.
“Okay, how about we get that lit, eat something, and we’ll talk, okay? We’ll have a rest, and I’ll tell you all I know. Then I just…get my things and leave. You can sleep here tonight, safe and sound. You know the way home, and if you leave really early tomorrow, maybe you can even make it to the Homestead by nightfall. Sounds good, right?”
Dani dipped her head down. She lowered the knife onto her lap. “I can’t.”
Even in the confined space, Lynn struggled to hear her. She frowned. “Why not?”
Dani’s head came up again. Her expressions were now entirely obscured by darkness. “Because you’re wrong.”
Lynn waited for an explanation.
It didn’t come.
“What am I wrong about?”
“I can’t go back. Kate won’t let me in.”
If Lynn could have one wish granted right now, it would be to be able to look Dani in the eye and tell if she was lying. “She won’t leave you to die at the gate, Dani.”
Dani was silent for so long that Lynn got ready to prod her again. “That’s what she said.”
Could anyone manufacture the intricate layering of pain, anger, and fear in Dani’s voice? Lynn couldn’t, but she wasn’t a very good liar. The question was: how good a liar was Dani? “She literally told you that unless you came back with Richard’s body, she wouldn’t let you back in?”
Dani shifted. Another pause—shorter this time. “Yes.”
Lynn turned fully toward her now. “And you believe her?”
“Kate’s a woman of her word.” A little tremble to her voice betrayed she wasn’t exactly sure of Kate’s actions if Dani went back.
“Even if she is, she must have said it as a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing, Dani. You know that.” She scrambled to find the right words to convince Dani. “I don’t know Kate very well, and I can’t say I like her, but you said it yourself: you’ve been useful. And you like each other, right?”
