Friction (The Frenzy Series Book 4) (17 page)

Two sharp knocks at the door in the middle of the night startled me awake, although Father was still snoring loudly from his room. I grabbed my candleholder, used a match to light the wick, and jogged down the stairs while cupping the flame with my hand so it didn’t blow out. When I opened the door Roman was standing there, looking like he was well again. Until I realized
why
he looked so well. Two pointed fangs appeared when he smiled.

“Where are my sisters and why are you a vampire?”

“They’re fine. They’re in Mountainside and will be here in the next day or so. I came early. We have a situation and I need your father’s help. Yours too.”

“What kind of help?”

“Wake him up. I’ll wait in the kitchen.”

I walked up the stairs, hearing him slide into a seat. “Make yourself at home, Roman,” I grumbled.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he shouted. Night-walkers. They didn’t need sleep, but we still did. I preferred Roman back when he was human and sick. He wasn’t as cocky.

Dad woke with a start. His immediate reaction was to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“We have a guest.”

“Who is it?” he asked, throwing back the covers and reaching for his candle.

“I have my candle, just follow me. And it’s Roman.”

“Where are the girls? Are they okay? They haven’t been gone long.”

Before he could spew more questions, I held my hand out. “Let’s just talk to Roman together.”

He followed me down the stairs, his own steps stiff. I could tell he wanted to go faster, but his body was holding him back. Father was getting more and more tired each day. I’d seen a huge change in him in the past few weeks. Luckily the girls hadn’t noticed yet.

Roman tapped his fingers impatiently on the tabletop. “Nice to see you, Mr. Grant.”

Father growled, surprising us both. “Why are you in my house? Why are you a vampire? And where the hell are Mercedes and Porschia?” The candlelight illuminated the tension between the two men.

“I’ll tell you everything. Just sit down and calm yourself. Your daughters are fine. Porschia asked me to come ahead. She needs the council’s help.”

“For what?”

“For the refugees.”

Roman spelled it all out. How the people of Mountainside had been so afraid of Porschia, and how there were no night-walkers in their settlement, even though in the past vampires and humans in Mountainside had co-depended on one another, much like those in Blackwater. He told us what Porschia said about the emptiness of The Glen and how she was taken to The Manor by a female night-walker. How Tage had come to get him, Saul, and Mercedes, and then changed them in order to free her.

Roman raked his hands through his dark hair. “We didn’t realize that she didn’t need saving from those women. She needed saving from herself.”

“What did she do?” Father asked tentatively, leaning his forearms on the scarred wood.

“She gave them what they wanted, and then she ended them.”

Father’s sharp inhalation echoed across the room. “She isn’t cut out for this life. Mercedes maybe would be, but not Porschia.”

“Mercedes was the first to volunteer to turn back into a human, but Saul and I decided to stay night-walkers until all are here and safe, maybe longer to ensure their safety. Don’t ever think that Mercedes is the stronger of your offspring.” His eyes flicked to me. “No offense, Ford.”

“None taken.” And it wasn’t. Mercedes wasn’t a bad sister or person, but I wouldn’t necessarily describe her as being strong in her own right. In a crowd, she would follow. She went with the flow, afraid to face the current in case it was too hard or swift. Porschia was always the stronger one. I knew it and deep down, so did Father.

“Now the refugees have made it safely to Mountainside, but the resources—namely food—in the forest have been depleted or driven away. The people will starve without Blackwater’s help,” Roman explained, leaning his chair onto the back legs. The wood strained while balancing his weight.

“How many people are we talking about?” Father asked.

“Eighty-seven.”

Father leaned his head into his hands. “Where will we put them all? We have some houses open, but enough for so many?”

“The city,” I offered. “There are still some who will choose to live there, and it can be easily defended.”

“It may be the only option,” Father muttered.

“We can help defend the city
and
the Colony,” Roman added. “Now that there’s a cure for both plagues, we can rest assured that—”

Father stopped him with a bang of his fist on the wooden table. “Don’t think that just because a cure exists, there will be rainbows and unicorns, Roman. You of all people should know the truth of it after this week. It’s foolish to think this is all over with. Most of the world still doesn’t know about the cures.”

The front chair legs of Roman’s seat fell on the floor with a thud. “I know that, and I’m no fool.”

I was too tired to mind my own mouth. “How are you even here? If you just changed back, aren’t you in Frenzy?”

“Turns out that the same flower that caused Porschia so many problems was a simple solution to controlling a night-walker in Frenzy. It calms the...cravings and emotions.”

Father’s mouth gaped open. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope. So,” Roman said, slapping the table and standing up. “Think about what we should say to the council. I’ll meet you back here just before dawn.”

“Why didn’t you just show up at dawn?” I grumbled as Father saw him out, making sure to lock the door, even though that tiny sliver of metal wouldn’t stop Roman from busting in if he was motivated enough to breach it.

It wasn’t possible to rest knowing what work needed to be done, so after an hour of tossing and turning, I finally got up and went outside. Father was already sitting on the porch waiting for me. “We have a lot of work to do,” he said. “Not just in making room for those who seek shelter, but in feeding them as well. Did you show Brian your trap?”

“I did yesterday. He seemed impressed, but one trap won’t be enough.”

“The extra meat will help. Can you make more? Maybe teach some of your friends to build them, too?”

“I can.” Not that there were a lot of friends around, but I could find a few to help me. Rats weren’t the tastiest creatures in the world, but they were meat and we needed more than we had now. We’d need a lot more in the coming days, and if what Roman said about the animals being scarce so close to home was true, it may be our only option. Feeling the weight of the moment with unspoken words, I scuffed my boot on the wooden planks, feeling the rubber tread grab hold of the grain.

“Say it,” Father instructed gently.

“I’m worried about all of this.”

“Me too, son.” That said, I sat next to him and silently watched the sky as it began to lighten, waiting for Roman. The night-walker was punctual, I’d give him that, but I still didn’t trust him very far. I wanted to see my sisters with my own eyes. Until I did, I wouldn’t rest at all. Neither would Father.

I wasn’t privy to the conversation with the council, sitting outside of Town Hall as the men and women spoke. But in the end, Father emerged with a heavy smile and nodded his head once. They would allow the citizens of Mountainside to seek shelter in Blackwater where there was room, or in the city if there wasn’t.

Life was a constant changing thing, and we just struggled to hold on as best we could lest it sweep us away. The moment Roman stepped out of Town Hall behind Father, I felt my fingers trembling, threatening to give up. But if I ever wanted to be as strong as Porschia, I knew I would have to dig in and man up. So I grabbed the night-walker’s sleeve.

“Can you take me to my sisters?”

His face was blank as he considered my question. “What does your father say?”

“I haven’t asked him.”

“Well, go ask him. Let him know I’ll take you there myself. Porschia wants to take things in waves; harvesting the plants they have in Mountainside so we can replant them here. Some of the frailest will need to recover for a few days before traveling again, and some of the strongest will have to stay and help work. She also said we’ll need horses and the wagon.”

“She may have asked for it, but the council won’t give up the wagon.”

Roman smiled. “She isn’t asking them to give it up, she’s asking to borrow it. And they
did
consent.”

“Did you have to work your mind-mojo on them?”

He smiled and ruffled my hair like I was some kid. “Absolutely.”

The survivors didn’t fear me, and that bothered me worse than anything. They should never let their guard down. They should never feel that a night-walker, an Infected, or even another human was one-hundred percent good. Evil was evil. It lived and breathed in men and the creatures that used to be men.

I worked alongside them, digging up the tender crops they’d planted, wrapping the roots gently with torn cloth, and tying them with twine. They were quiet, talking to their neighbors, their children, stealing glances at me occasionally. But I didn’t talk and they didn’t try to converse with me. It was better this way. The distance between us all was comfortable to me.

Tage kneeled to my left and Saul to my right. Like always, I was stuck in the middle of them, on the rope they pulled between them. And much like a rope, my nerves were fraying by the second. Roman would have already made it to Blackwater by now. He would have seen Father and asked for help. Did the council grant it? Would they provide the shelter that we had already promised? It was midday and there had been no word from Roman for three days. Did he make it at all?

I sat back on my heels and laid another cabbage plant in a small box we found after rifling around in our hole in the ground. Anything and everything would be used. Pans, bowls, boxes, and pitchers. Everything that would be useful was brought out in preparation for the move – a move I hoped was still taking place.

“He’ll come,” Tage said quietly. He’d given me much needed space over the past few days. It wasn’t that I needed it from him, I just needed it for me. Maybe it was selfish or mean, and though I didn’t intend for it to be either, it was necessary.

“I know. I just wonder what’s taking so long.”

Saul chuckled beneath his breath. “What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Nothing at all....” he paused. “Patience, grasshopper.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny.”

The simple exchange sparked Tage’s anger and I watched as he stalked away, too aggravated to chase after him. Saul offered the metaphorical olive branch. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I growled, going back to the task at hand. “It was a simple joke.”

“Among friends?” he asked hopefully.

“Exactly.” Saul and I could be friends. We were friends before this whole mess started.

“Well that’s what’s wrong. Tage doesn’t want you and me to be anything but enemies.”

“Well, he’ll have to get over it.” I looked over at Saul, mud streaked across his face and caked on the tips of his fingers. “Won’t he?”

He smiled slightly. “I hope so. I want to be friends again. If you’ll let me in.”

It was a slippery slope, but one I was willing to slide across. “Friends, then?”

“Definitely,” he said, unearthing more plants. I couldn’t deny that my heart leaped at the sight of his smile. His fangs were like him, long and lithe and... I stared at the ground. No wonder Tage was angry.