Clone Three (The Clone Chronicles Book 1), page 7
The idea of going on alone again makes me sad. I look down at the puppy in his arms then to the dog. His eyes are locked on mine. Will he leave his little ones to join me? I can’t ask it of him.
I doubt he’ll give me a choice in the matter either way.
The dog sighs, closes his eyes. Conversation over.
Fair enough.
***
Chapter Seventeen
Again my sleep is uncomfortable and uneasy. I know I’ve caught a few bits of rest here and there. Part of it comes from being segregated from the others. Not that I’m completely surprised. They all found a place far from me when they’d finished eating what Beckett fed them from the sack. He retrieved the golden puppy Poppy has named Shine and brought it to me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s not your fault. But they’ve been through so much.”
He won’t meet my eyes. I try not to be hurt. But it’s hard.
Now that they’ve settled, I catch myself starting at every noise, every breath of air, even when Shine and his sister, now called Shade, murmur in their puppy sleep. I wish I had someone to watch my back. It isn’t until I groan at last and roll over on my side I remember I’m not alone after all.
Deep, dark eyes watch me, a wet nose wiggling slightly as the dog sniffs. Poppy hasn’t named him yet, I think waiting for me to do it. For some reason it doesn’t feel right to put a name on him, when he has no say in the matter. I’m not sure why I’m surprised he’s so close to me, but I am. He’s practically right up against me, body stretched out full. The two puppies sigh and squirm against his side and I soothe them with a soft touch, settling them to rest.
The dog allows me to scratch his ears, even stroke the soft fur of his muzzle. I lie there for a long time, looking into his eyes and he into mine, wondering how much he really understands. When I finally close my eyes again, it’s with greater ease.
He’s there to watch over us all.
It seems I’ve just closed my eyes when I’m opening them to the dog’s teeth closing on my throat. I pull back, terrified, striking out at him even as he growls low in his chest, eyes not on me. He tries to grab me again, but this time I understand—he’s reaching for my collar, tugging at me. The puppies are already gone.
What is he doing?
Someone moans. I glance over my shoulder, wondering what disturbed whoever made the sound. And freeze.
Dark shapes shuffle through the room. Two hunch over one of the kids. A scream builds inside me, my heart beating impossibly fast as one of the shuffling forms rises from the ground and turns toward the window and the light. The girl’s face is slack and vacant, her eyes empty shells, seeing past me, skin as pale as death.
There is blood around her mouth. Running down her throat and chest. She is chewing. Something.
“Beckett!” The scream escapes at last. I’m on my feet, the snarling, snapping dog at my side, while the invaders turn on me as if I’ve triggered some instinct. They are already moving my way, groaning and moaning in horrible voices, arms reaching out for me, grasping fingers and gnashing teeth.
I see the others rise, some of them running, escaping, leaving me to face the Shambles. That’s who they must be, the zombie-like remnants of the Sick. I see Beckett’s stricken expression, hear him shouting, but I can’t hear him past my terror and the moans of the Shambles.
It’s not just them, their slow-motion movements, the horror of their existence, keeping me locked into place. It’s the sight of the kid they’d killed, the source of the blood, body wrenched open by greedy hands, steaming entrails exposed, lungs, heart, half a cheek missing to eager mouths, blood and more blood pooling and pooling.
I feel as if I will go mad.
Teeth clamp on my sleeve, pulling me backward, breaking my freeze. I scramble away, just in time, feeling the softest of scrapes as a fingernail grazes my cheek. I follow the dog, weaving through the pack of grasping creatures. He whines once and I understand completely when he stops. The puppies are scooped from the hiding place he secreted them, tucked inside my coat again as I run on.
The whole place is filled with Shambles, it seems. I hear my name, turn to see Beckett calling for me, one arm around Dauphine as they run, Nico ahead of them. She forces her way past me, abandoning everyone, even trips one kid by accident on her way. She doesn’t stop to help the girl to her feet. Not just any kid, I realize as I grasp her hand and jerk her back out of the reach of a Shamble, but Poppy.
Poppy sobs once, but keeps her head. I can’t carry her and the puppies and we have to hurry. The two wriggling babies are dumped in her arms before I swing her up in mine and run.
A Shamble boy reaches for us as we dart past, but Poppy shrieks and lashes out with her sneakers. I can hear Beckett calling for us, but my terror is too strong, my calm nowhere to be found.
The building goes on and on and I run deeper into it.
***
Chapter Eighteen
The building is infested, that much is apparent. And I’m so turned around by the time I manage to get a hold of myself we’re deep inside, not a window visible. I slow for a moment, at the top of a set of stairs, knowing going down is the worst thing I can do. But when I turn back to retreat they are coming for us, from the left and the right, a mass of groaning Shambles who stink of death.
Poppy screams, the dog barks and I’m filled with fresh panic while the puppies whine over and over again. I run down the stairs, praying there will be an exit, another staircase, something, anything. More long halls, more windowless rooms, more Shambles.
Finally, an empty corridor. I pant, unable to catch my breath, forced to set Poppy down for a moment while she sobs and strokes the puppies. She’s having a hard time holding them. Food and love has done wonders for their strength.
“Here.” I whip off my jacket, tie the arms together to make a sling, slide it around her neck. Shine and Shade fit inside, and she’s able to button the front up to keep them from escaping. The dog stares up at me like he assumes I know what I’m doing.
I hope he’s right. Because I really think I’ve killed us all.
Poppy grasps my hand as we move on. My heart has quieted some, my calm returning. There is something about these Shambles triggering absolute terror and I just hope I can keep control of my fear long enough to find an exit. The dog sniffs ahead, leading us on. I trust his judgment far more than mine.
I hear something behind us just as we turn a corner and see Beckett running toward us, calling for Poppy. She spins, sees him, her relief apparent. So is mine. He almost reaches us when I hear the dog bark once, sharply and turn too late.
A Shamble emerges from a dark doorway, heading right for me. I shove Poppy backward without thinking, toward Beckett, and charge toward the creature. It falls back, hands scrabbling at my chest and throat, hideous, stinking breath breathing into my face. A girl this time, though I have a hard time thinking of her as female. She stumbles, I lose my balance and we go down together.
I feel the floor give way beneath us, hear the cracking, splintering sound of old, decayed wood and barely catch a breath before we’re in free fall. The Shamble dies beneath me as we land, gasping her final rattle into my mouth, thick, black blood spurting out of her nose. I pull free, lurching to me feet, wiping at the droplets on my cheeks, panic giving way to relief.
Until I hear them. All around me. Stirring, coming closer. In the dark, I’m surrounded.
I have to fight. The calm is impossible so I reach for rage. It helps some, fear and anger being not far from each other. But I feel slow, despite being faster than the Shambles, as if the leftover terror has weighted my limbs.
Their bodies are soft under my lashing feet, my striking hands, and I can only imagine they are slowly dying, decaying from the inside out. The stench is overwhelming and I’m finding it harder and harder to breathe.
I’m aware of peripheral sounds, of the dog barking above me, Poppy screaming my name, but I can’t spare a moment for them. I can only fight and fight and fight while my soul shudders and a part of me shrieks in absolute madness.
The sounds above fall silent. Have they been attacked? Or have they left me? I have no way of knowing. Something hisses past my cheek, I feel it more than see it. I’ve adjusted as well as I can to the minimal light in the pit where I fight, just enough to see the outlines of Shamble bodies as they surge toward me.
Another hiss and a grunt from a mindless boy who goes down with a thud, taking two more with him. The soft sounds of projectiles, over and over again, all coming from above me. Again I can’t spare a moment to see who’s defending me, but the surge of hope and gratitude is enough to keep me fighting, harder, faster, more angry until I stand alone, a ring of fallen Shambles at my feet.
Now I can stop, thank my savior. Only to look up into the muzzle of a gun.
One last hiss. Something red and fuzzy sticks out of my shoulder. I grasp for it, feel my fingers go numb as the world slides sideways, multiplies into two, four and then blackness.
***
Motion. My body registers it before my brain fully understands I’m moving. My head bobs on my neck, uncomfortable, but I’m unable to do anything about it just yet. I hear myself groan and feel a shudder run the full length of me, fed by the memory of the Shambles.
I’m alive. They didn’t eat me. I could sob my gratitude, but instead settle for the soft warmth of tears trickling slowly free, escaping to drip from the end of my nose.
The first thing I see when I open my eyes is a floor passing by, concrete, dirty, with a blue painted line, faded with age. Whoever holds me gives me a little toss. I must be heavy. The thought makes me want to giggle. I know my giddiness comes from the drug they’ve given me and shake it off as best I can.
Down a set of stairs. Another. All concrete. I’m able to see to my left. Long lines of blue chairs, plastic with fold down seats and neat little numbers attached to the backs run on and on forever. Thin metal handrails offer support at each staircase though my carrier ignores them. Orange seats take the place of blue, then yellow.
We’re not alone, either. I see other pairs of feet following behind.
Where are we? And who has taken me captive?
One last set of stairs and we’re crossing through a small but heavy wooden door and onto grass. Grass? The real kind, I think. Recently mowed, but how? My mind tries to fit all of the images together, but I’m out of time. There’s no way to save myself, my body still unresponsive as I’m dumped on the ground and left to fend for myself.
Three people bend over me. I know them. I know them all. Met them in the school that first horrible night. They grin at me like it’s funny I’m here, but with terrible intent behind their smiles.
“Is she awake?” A voice I don’t know, coming closer. One of them looks up and nods.
“She’s coming around.” He backs off, they all do. Someone grabs me from behind, hauls me upright by my arms. My shoulders protest while my head wobbles. I’m able to support it a little, resting my cheek on my shoulder, as my eyes climb up the jeans-clad legs before me, noting the thick spiked black leather belt, the matching leather jacket. A t-shirt, actually clean. Amazing. And another smile, this on a face I don’t know, with an equally evil undertone.
He’s attractive. I’m surprised. Shouldn’t bad people be ugly? Kidnappers shouldn’t have hair as blonde as new honey or green eyes making you want to trust them. Chiseled features, a model’s face. Perfect teeth. Not fair, I say.
“At last,” he says, hands on hips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
***
Chapter Nineteen
This must be Cade. I try to speak, but my throat is tight and I only end up gurgling. He glares suddenly at one of the boys who watches, smirking.
“How much did you give her?”
The grinning one stills, suddenly fearful. “Just the usual,” he says, his anxiety clear in his voice. It makes me want to laugh. “I swear.”
Cade’s scowl is as handsome as his smile. “If you’ve damaged her, I’ll kill you myself.”
The kid backs off, head dropping. Somehow the threat doesn’t sound empty.
I take the opportunity to look around, eyes wandering from corner to corner. We’re inside some kind of stadium and my memory flickers to the past. I can hear the roar of a crowd, see masses of people, flashes from cameras going off, hear the crack of a ball on a bat, see fireworks overhead. I’ve been to a place like this before. With the woman. She sat beside me the whole time. Shared her popcorn.
So much for that happy memory.
Whoever is holding me suddenly lets go and I fall to the ground. But I’m happy to find I can support myself when my hands automatically reach out and catch myself. The grass is soft under my touch, almost wet. I feel it dampening my jeans, the cold of the dirt beneath it sinking into my right hip. I manage to look up again, see the crowd of people surrounding me.
I’d thought Genki had a large group. Cade has an army, it seems.
Cade comes to stand before me, crouching, eyes at my level. “Trio,” he says. “Right? That’s what they’re calling you?”
I blink, bob a nod that threatens my balance. “Cade.” I’m able to speak. It’s a phlegmy whisper. I clear my throat, speak again. “You’re Cade.”
He grins, winks. “You’ve heard of me.”
If I had the strength to roll my eyes, I would have. “Yes,” I say instead. “I’m Trio.”
“So tell me, Trio,” he says, “what exactly do the Crawlers want with you?”
His curiosity is a front. I can feel him vibrating in the small distance between us. For some reason he thinks I’m important. And for all I know, I am.
But I only have the truth to tell him and I’m certain it’s not going to be enough. “I don’t know,” I say. “I don’t remember anything.”
His expression tightens, but his good nature remains. “So I’ve been told.” He stands abruptly, hands going in his pockets, a smile on his lips. “But I’ve also been told you’re figuring out some things.” Cade snaps his fingers and a boy scuttles forward. I know this kid. He’s one of Genki’s people. Seems he’s changed sides.
“Tell me again,” Cade says to the kid, “what you saw.”
The boy is a mess, shaking, hugging himself like I’m a demon here to devour his soul. “She killed Menzel,” he says. “Touched him, just pushed him back. And Menzel died of the Sick. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he repeats the phrase. “Just like that.”
I want to throw up at the memory, can still see the boy dissolving. I did it. But I have no idea how. And that’s not going to satisfy Cade. I can see it in his face, in his crystal green eyes which never leave mine as the boy talks, tells them all what a monster I am. I can’t look away. Cade needs to know I’ve told him everything.
“How?” He gently nudges me with one boot, smile small and tight, eyes glittering with need. “Tell me how you did it.”
“I don’t know.” I watch his patience wearing out, the false smile sliding further and further. “Honestly. It just happened.”
Cade stares at me, silent. The toe of his right foot taps softly against the ground, the crowd so quiet I hear the sound of the grass whispering under his boots.
When he shrugs, I think he’s accepted my answer and allow myself a brief glimmer of hope. That hope dies when he grabs the kid beside him, the very one who has just told him everything, and shoves the boy toward me. Terror shines in the kid’s eyes, mouth gaping. He struggles against Cade’s grasp, but the boy is small and skinny. His feet slide out from under him, shirt up under his chin as the larger guy heaves him forward and drops him in front of me. The kid sobs, scrambles back, but Cade is there holding him in place.
“Show me.” Cade cocks his head to the side, gaze still on me, ignoring the panicked whimpers of the kid at his feet.
I am able to shrug. It’s an ineffectual gesture at the best of times and does little for my case now. I reach out, take the boy’s hand. He stiffens, the front of his already dirty cargo pants darkening at the crotch. The stain spreads, runs down his legs to pool at both knees. The scent of urine is strong, strong enough Cade backs off with a muttered curse, finally letting the boy go.
My hand falls away as the kid collapses in a heap, choking on his tears. I feel terrible for him, but there’s nothing I can do. I look up at Cade again. “Like I said, I don’t know how I did it. It happened once, when I was threatened.” When we were all threatened. I was so angry. I remember. But I’m not telling Cade . Not when I’m sure he’s capable of anything.
“Cade.” I glance to the side, see a tall, dark haired and dark eyed boy standing just to the left. Cade meets his eyes. He’s spoken up, so he must be important.
“Brick.” Cade’s perfect eyebrow arches. “Suggestion?”
Brick’s empty brown eyes meet mine. “Threaten her.”
Cade grins. “Just what I was thinking. Only better. Threaten someone she cares about.” He turns to me again and laughs like he just said something funny. My blood runs cold, whole body sheathed in goosebumps. If I had the strength I’d be on my feet and I’d kill him where he stands.
Then he’d know how it works, wouldn’t he?
But I’m still weak, it’s hard to focus my thoughts.
“First one,” Cade says softly, almost to himself, “then the other, I think.” He pulls out a knife, handing it to one of the boys from the school. “Kill her.”
The kid shakes his head, backing off a half step, but Brick is right there behind him. I see the fear in the boy’s face, watching as he calculates his chances and can only assume he chooses with his fear of Cade being the greater of the two because he squares himself and comes toward me.
I stumble to my feet, swaying. My limbs are heavy, still full of the drug. The moment I rise, the boy looks like he may have changed his mind, but I don’t allow him time to act. I have to trust my abilities despite my weakness. Before he can lunge at me I strike, hand coming down on his wrist, the knife falling from his grip and to the turf with a snick as it embeds in the ground by the tip.
