Night Beyond The Night (15 page)

“Sort of like a new Internet?” Elliott asked, wondering if she knew what that was. But of course she must if she’d spent any time with Lou and Theo, self-proclaimed computer geeks. No, wait. They were fucking computer geniuses.

“Sort of. Mainly for communication, although we haven’t used it much yet. Theo’s been setting up wireless network access points that run on solar power. He hides them on rooftops or wherever he can, and he’s slowly building a network.”

“So he’s also been looking for a way to hack into whatever communications system the Strangers use?”

She nodded. “He and Lou insisted there must be something like that, but it was only recently that they found evidence of what they call Chatter. His last message said he thought he’d found a good point where he could break into the system, so I’m thinking he’s just really wrapped up in the job and doesn’t want to leave yet. Which is why he asked me to go to Greenside to get the stuff from Luke.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not going alone.” He looked at her, and at that moment Elliott felt something he hadn’t for a long time. Something . . . solid, something good, tugged deep in his belly.

“I always go alone, Elliott,” she replied smartly. “I can take care of myself.” Then, after a moment, she added, “But I’m glad you came with me this time. If for no other reason than the fact that you took care of that awful snake.” The corners of her lips curled up in that intriguing way, and she sort of ducked her head, Princess Diana-style, when their eyes met—almost as if she were too shy to read his gaze. Or for him to see what was in her own. “Ready?”

Oh God, was he
.

“Let’s go,” he said, wishing he could reach across and drag her onto his horse.

She turned away and, bending low over the mustang’s neck, kicked it into a great gallop.

Greenside was green. That was about all Elliott could say about the place.

It was like the scattered random villages or settlements he’d come across during the last six months: a few homes that had been cobbled together in the sturdiest buildings in the area. A cluster of maybe three dozen, maybe four, people living there. They were friendly enough, and seemed content to live their lives simply.

It reminded him of that rerun TV show his cousins had made him watch, with Laura and Mary and Pa and Ma, but without the sunbonnets. And without the prairie.

A wild river rushed by, perhaps a quarter-mile wide, and hugged one edge of the town. Beyond the river’s low banks, trees offered shade, and Elliott saw small patches of garden. A few rusted-over signs and a wide patch of buckled concrete filled in with a maze of grass and small bushes indicated that fifty years ago the town had been at the junction of two highways, in the middle of what had to have been pretty much desert. But now, like Envy, the land was lush and green and overgrown except where the settlers—that’s how he thought of them—had kept Mother Nature at bay.

“Why do they live here, instead of in Envy?” he asked Jade as they approached the town. He noticed what appeared to be a well-tended field of corn to his left, near the height of his horse’s withers. And a low-growing patch of strawberry bushes, bright red berries glinting through the green leaves.

Jade shrugged. She’d easily managed to remain on her spirited mustang all through the day, even when they’d had to jump over a jagged crevice left by the quakes.

“They stay for various reasons,” she replied. “Some of them farm or hunt and sell their extras to Envy, some of them because their grandparents had survived the Change here and never left. Some people don’t like to be crowded.”

Crowded? He hardly considered Envy crowded. In fact, it was a freaking ghost town as far as he was concerned.

“Plus it’s safer.”

Elliott looked at her. “Safer?” A little prickle lifted the hair on his arms, and it had nothing to do with the way muscular thighs held her in place on the bare back of that mustang. Although he’d taken notice of that as well.

“Away from the Strangers, sort of beneath their notice,” she said. “Although that doesn’t always work.” Her face settled unhappily, and he knew she was probably thinking about the group of people she’d seen executed by
ganga
. He wanted to ask more about her experience with the Strangers, but now was not the time.

“Stay here for a sec,” she said suddenly, and before he could reply, her horse leapt forward.

Stones clattered on the ground behind her, and . . . he waited. The thing was, he trusted her. She knew this world better than he did, and she knew what she was doing. He’d already seen evidence of that—although it was a good thing she hadn’t been alone when she ran into that snake.

And it was a
really
good thing that he’d had some nasty
ganga
wounds to give the snake, right in its soft underbelly. He had Simon to thank for that unexpected weapon.

Still, the realization that somehow he not only healed people, but took on their afflictions and then passed them on to the next person—no, apparently it was the next living thing he happened to touch—was frightening and confusing, and yet exciting and fantastic all at the same time.

Once he learned how to control this power, how to use it, he would be formidable.

That was, if he managed not to get himself killed in the meanwhile. Before he unloaded them on the snake, those
ganga
wounds had been growing ever more acute and dangerous, slowing his every movement. It was as if the injury had intensified exponentially once he took it upon himself.

If he’d “carried” Jade’s fractured ulna for hours instead of minutes, would his own bone have done more than simply ache? Would it have broken? More severely? Or would something else have happened?

Elliott heard voices and looked up to see two women appear from between a couple of fairly well-tended buildings—meaning that though the windows were glassless, and the roof on one sagged (it was completely missing on the other), the brick underpinnings weren’t overgrown with bushes and trees. The women were walking toward the river, carrying small baskets and a slender hoe.

“Hello,” he said, moving forward in the same manner he’d done the times he’d come upon settlements in the past.

“Well, hello,” said one of the women, scanning up at him with one hand shielding her face from the sun. “Where’d you come from?”

She was in her mid to late forties, and wore simple, comfortable clothing: jeans and a plain white shirt with a sort of shiny, textured wide-brimmed hat. The other woman was much younger, closer in age to Elliott himself. Her clothes fit better, showing off a nicely curved body. She wore a plain T-shirt with a sort of vest over it, also made from the same type of material as her companion’s hat. Made from some sort of plastic?

Although neither appeared apprehensive or frightened by his presence, Elliott slid down from his horse and, since he had no bridle and therefore nothing to tie it with, released the mustang. Jade had assured him there was no difficulty catching another one, and if she couldn’t . . . well, then, he’d have to ride with her back to Envy.

Knowing that Jade’s activity as a Runner was supposed to be secret, and unsure how she would want him to react in this situation, he opted for the innocent, weary traveler persona.

“I’m Elliott,” he said, giving them a warm smile. “I’ve been traveling all day from Envy. I don’t suppose you’d have something cold to drink for a guy who’s been on a horse for a couple hours?”

“I’ve got some iced tea,” replied the older one. She had dark hair and a sweet smile and looked as if she’d be right at home baking cookies and bandaging skinned knees for a wide-eyed little boy. Did they bake cookies anymore? What did they use for skinned knees?

Elliott grinned with sincere appreciation. “I’d really appreciate that. As long as I’m not interrupting anything.” He figured Jade would find him eventually—it wasn’t as if he’d get lost in this skeleton of a town. Aside from that, he might have a little bit of an opportunity to check out what Lou and Jade had told him about the Strangers.

He was convinced. He just wanted . . . confirmation. Proof.

“We were just going out to pick a few beans in that field there, but I’d rather sit and chat with a handsome young man and drink tea than do that,” she said, looking as if she’d like to pat him on the head. Her younger companion, who’d definitely been checking Elliott out with her big blue eyes, nodded in agreement.

Elliott accepted the glass of what turned out to be iced mint tea, which tasted clean and cool. He’d noticed that Sally, the older woman, walked with a bit of a limp and wondered how he might create the opportunity to scan her and see if there was anything he could do to alleviate her obvious pain.

While he sat, he asked general questions about the beans they grew, and the weather, and other mundane things. He felt as if he were sitting at his
abuela
’s kitchen table, chatting with her friends while they canned salsa or did perms or played cards.

He liked women of all ages. He’d often wondered, when he really got to thinking . . . usually either late at night, or when he was simply blown away by exhaustion and stress after a long stint in the ER . . . if it was because he was still looking for his mother. She’d left him and his father when Elliott was three.

She’d decided she didn’t want to be a mother anymore. Simple as that. And she up and left.

Elliott, who’d nevertheless been raised with an overabundance of motherly love from his
abuela
—his father’s mother—and aunts, hadn’t seen her since. And he guessed that now he never would.

Sally and her pretty niece Andrea had escorted him to a small courtyard-type place that appeared to once have been the garden in front of the town hall. The space had been well kept and looked as neat as it must have been when landscapers did their edging and weed-whacking and seasonal planting a half-century ago. Sally lived with her family in the courthouse, on the second floor, and Andrea with her parents on the floor above.

Everyone lived on the second or third or fourth floors. It was the only way they could be safe from
gangas
.

The town and its environs struck Elliott as odd; he still wasn’t used to buildings being so close to each other but with so much green. In the cities and suburbs he’d known in his previous life, the homes and structures were close together, but there was little natural growth. Here, it flourished everywhere, making him feel as if he sat in the middle of a forest, shady and cool.

He took another enthusiastic swig from the tall plastic cup and just as he was setting it down, happened to look over at an adjacent building and saw Jade through an opening in the wall.

With her arms around another man.

And there was definitely nothing brotherly about the kiss they were sharing, or where his hands were.

“Luke,” Jade said, twisting her mouth firmly away from his. This was exactly why Theo usually went to Greenside—so she could avoid Luke of the quick-draw, octopus hands. Maybe she should have had Elliott come with her. “We’ve got to get this stuff put away.” Her knapsack had slipped to the floor when he took her by surprise, yanking her into his arms.

She supposed some women liked the strong, take-charge kind of guys who were always throwing them up against the wall to kiss them, and telling them what to do . . . but she’d outgrown that adolescent fantasy about ten years ago.

“I’d like to put something away,” he replied meaningfully, with a little lift of his hips against her.
Eww. What a scrub.
“Where’ve you been, Jade? It’s been
months
!”

It should have been longer
.

“Luke! What’s gotten into you?” She slipped away, taking care to keep a pleasant, regretful expression on her face and a teasing tone. She couldn’t afford to get Luke pissed off, especially when she needed information—and any data he had. It was a delicate balance—remain friendly, with a hint of flirtatiousness, but keep him at arm’s length. And that was why she’d asked Elliott to stay behind.

And now that he’d already told her he hadn’t seen Theo for a few weeks, she had no reason to stay once they made their data exchange. Obviously, she was wrong that Theo was trying to get her to come to Greenside for him—he just wanted her to pick up the data. So she would get it and get out of here.

She bent to pick up her knapsack, expertly dodging the swipe of Luke’s large hand. “But I brought you this. Do you have anything for me?” she asked with exaggerated innocence.

He grinned a wicked grin that failed to ignite even the slightest response in her. “Of course I do.” Taking her hand, he guided her out of the small room that acted as his main living space and through a short passageway to the hidden cellar.

She clambered down
ganga
-proof spiral stairs after him and at the bottom, instead of turning the light on, he turned and caught her full in his arms before she realized what was happening.

Ugh.

“Jade,” he groaned into her hair. He wasn’t much taller than she, and Jade was standing on the bottom step, so her mouth was a bit higher than his. His hands closed around her hips and then slid up to her breasts.
Holy crap.
His hands were fast. And strong.

A little niggle of fear threatened to sweep into panic, but she pushed it away. Never again.

“Luke,” she said in a firm voice. “Let me go.”

“Why?” he said, his mouth closing over her breast right through the tight, thin cotton shirt she wore.

Jade pushed ineffectually at him as she felt his tongue swishing back and forth through the fabric and her equally thin—and precious—bra, right over her nipple.
Oh, yuck
.

She resisted the automatic urge to shove him away, only because if she pissed him off, that would be the end of their alliance. And if he got really mad, he might be loud-mouthed about Theo and the Resistance. Not that he knew that much about it, but . . . she had to be careful. Diplomatic. A lot more was at stake than just her personal space.

But he had to remove his hands—and mouth—from her.
Now
.