The Last Marine (16 page)

“What’s wrong?”

He took a bite of the fruit and motioned to the book. “What else does it say in there? Anything about the Scarecrows?”

Prudence wanted to continue the conversation, but knew he wouldn’t cooperate, so she let it drop. For now. “I’ve read that chapter a hundred times. The Scarecrows live in the mountains.” She picked up her piece of fruit and wiped it with her shirt. “They live in caves and use echolocation to hunt.”

“They’re blind?”

“Seems so. Nocturnal, too. Doesn’t seem to slow them down, though. They can fly and they’re quick. The fool who wrote this book says he survived by staying in their caves at night.” She let out an unladylike snort.

“Sounds reasonable.”

She stared. “Are you crazy? This is the same author who says the Black Desert is about half the size of what we endured.”

He shrugged. “Think about it, they all leave to hunt and we’re safe until dawn.”

“Oh sure, we just have to sneak past them not once, but twice.”

“At least we’ll know where they are. Better than making camp out in the open and jumping at every little sound. You have a better idea?”

“Goddess preserve us, you’re insane.”

*****

“Oh, lady, you don’t know the half of it.”

Prudence reared back. “We’re back to that, are we? I’m just ‘lady,’ again?”

Griffin got up. “I’ll be right back.” He walked off to get away from her for a few minutes.

What the hell were they doing? For a few minutes there they were cozied up, sharing a moment over a book that he would remember for-fucking-ever. And there she sat, talking away about changing things. About not needing social classes. Making it sound like they were going to be together forever. She was making
plans
. And him, dumb-ass that he was, listened. Thought,
yeah, you know, she’s right. We could live here, the two of us happily-ever-after.

Bullshit. Horseshit. Scarecrow shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Griffin sat down and hung his head. He wasn’t supposed to care. He never gave a damn about the women he slept with and, damn it, they never gave him a second thought, either.

Why the fuck was she different?

She crawled right under his skin and snuggled up ‘round his heart. And now what?
And now you do what you gotta do. You find your brother, you get your ass back to Earth and you make things right. Leave her here, take her there, either way you can’t let her make plans until you get your honor back.

“Griffin?”

“Yeah, I’m coming.” He dragged his hand over his head and down his face.
Priorities. He had to keep his priorities straight.

Chapter 18

Griffin kept his gaze locked on the entrance to the cave.

The sun drifted below the horizon and, weapon in hand, he waited to see if anything was going to come out.

Behind him, Prudence had a shakey-handed death grip on his shirt. She was furious with him for this, but he’d be damned if he would sit out here in the open letting the Scarecrows pick them off like fish in a barrel.

Bit by bit, the lavender sky turned royal purple, deep violet, and then black. The stars appeared and the first of three moons rose above the treetops. Hell, when he’d first arrived, he didn’t think Asteria had a moon. Every other night since, a new one popped up.

His legs grew stiff and ached from squatting. He turned to Prudence. “We picked an empty cave. Come on, let’s get inside before anything sneaks up on us.”

She let out a long, shuddering breath and opened her mouth to say something, but her attention jerked to the side. “Look.”

There, to the side of the cave, one of those blue-and-black-striped creatures grazed in the blue grass. Griffin’s mouth watered. They’d nicknamed the creature zeblu and it was delicious. “Stay quiet.”

Griffin made his way closer, Prudence right behind him, easing around the bushes for a clear shot. The zeblu moved off to one side to graze in a fresh batch of blue grass, leaving nothing but the tip of its nose visible.

“Christ.” Griffin got back to his feet, sneaking closer to the mouth of the cave. Pressing his back against the stone surrounding it, he leaned around to take the shot. He lifted the gun.

Fluttering filled the night air.

The blue-and-black-striped zeblu lifted its graceful head, its ears perking.

A loud screech made Griffin freeze. The noise seemed to reverberate, sinking straight down to his bones and in its wake the flapping became almost deafening, a thousand wings beating simultaneously, echoing in the entrance to the cave. The zeblu darted away, and a big, gray blur flew out of the cave, followed by half a dozen more.

Griffin jumped back, trapping Prudence between him in the wall. Watched in awe as the creatures lifted their dinner high in the air. More winged creatures joined the first and tore the bleating zeblu into several pieces. Blood rained down. A ragged leg dropped, landing near the mouth of the cave with a meaty thump.

Scarecrows. Dozens more erupted from the mouth of the cave, taking to the skies in search of food. Griffin’s gut twisted as one circled back and landed not four feet away with its back to them. The creature bent down to retrieve the leg that had fallen from the sky. Wet smacking mingled with the sound of flesh being torn from bone. Griffin reached behind himself and squeezed Prudence’s hand, hoping she understood they were in peril.

Of course she knew, she hadn’t wanted to do this from the get go. And if they survived, it’d be a long while, he was sure, before she let him live this down.

He released her and she slipped the open Swiss Army knife into his hand.

A bird took flight from the trees behind them and the Scarecrow turned around.

The humanoid creature had leathery wings spanning from wrists to ankles like a bat. The fingers and toes resembled a bat’s, too, with thin, clawed appendages extending out from its limbs. That’s where the similarities ended. He’d always found bats to be cute, but there was nothing flattering about the Scarecrow. Its brownish-gray skin had the texture of a burlap bag. The eyes were tiny and black and the ears nothing more than holes in the side of its bulbous head. The sole feature of note was its mouth—a long black slash across its face.

The scarecrow tipped its head from side to side.

Neither one of them had moved. Neither made a sound, but something had captured the Scarecrow’s attention.

Griffin gripped the blade tight and studied the odd creature. He’d rather avoid using the gun—the sound might draw others. If he needed to, he’d go for the throat. Maybe the ear. If it was an ear, he’d have a direct-connect to the brain, providing his blade was long enough.

The creature stood before him.

His heart jumped in his chest and a healthy dose of adrenaline flushed into his system. He hadn’t even seen it move. One second it had been there, now it was here, so close he could smell its rotten breath.
Breath.

Christ, the sound of their breathing had drawn its attention. Griffin held his, praying Prudence would notice and do the same.

She didn’t.

The scarecrow opened its mouth, revealing rows of jagged, rotten teeth, and screeched. Hell, it must be trying to get a bead on them, trying to see them through echo-location.

Griffin’s muscles tensed with his weapon held between him and the scarecrow. If push came to shove, he’d fire, but how many more would he attract?

The creature opened its mouth again, and this time Griffin struck, ramming the blade into the creature’s ear.

He didn’t kill it.

The fucking thing screamed, the sound different from the noise it had made before. Thin, clawed hands reached for his neck and blazed a fiery trail down his chest, shredding shirt and skin.

He wrested the blade from the Scarecrow’s head and thrust the knife into its neck. The Scarecrow fell to the ground, thrashing wildly, and Griffin leapt onto it, stabbing into its throat and face until its arms fell limp to the ground.

The Scarecrow had black blood. He tried to wipe the sticky, foul-smelling stuff from his hands, but all he managed was to spread it around more He swiped at his face with his upper arm, and his sleeve came away black.

Christ, he needed to get it off before Prudence saw.

“Griffin.”

He refused to turn to her. “Get in the cave.” He had to get the blood off. If she saw him like this she’d know. She’d see how comfortable he was with killing. She’d know he had horrible secrets.

“Come with me.”

The sound of flapping wings drew his gaze to the sky. Four of the creatures had returned to investigate. Griffin reached behind him for Prudence. “Get in the cave, stay against the wall and don’t breathe if they get close.”

Her hands pulled at his shirt, urging him up.

He waved her away. “Go.” He got to his feet, following, but keeping his eyes to the sky. He’d be damned if she’d get hurt on his watch.

One of the creatures screeched.

Griffin froze. After a heartbeat or two, he moved again, easing back.

It screeched again.

Shit.
He froze, but knew he’d been caught. If the thing had half a brain in its head, it’d realize he’d moved.

The Scarecrows swooped down, encircling him.

Griffin lifted the Lockheed Martin. If he was going, he would go down fighting. He shot the closest, swinging around and stabbing his blade into the neck of the second. For a split second, he thought he might make it. He brought the gun around, ready to shoot the third, but the Scarecrow knocked the gun from his hand, leaving long claw marks across his arm. He ripped his blade out of the second one’s neck, slashing out at the third. He gouged deep into the thing’s boney chest.

Behind him, the second Scarecrow still moved, its clawed hand closed around his ankle. The third grabbed hold of his wrist. A vision of that blue-and-black-striped zeblu being torn apart flashed through his mind, except in his mind’s eye, the creatures ripped
him
to pieces.

A blast lit the night.

The Scarecrow holding his arm released him and dropped to the ground. He spun around, stepping on the other’s arm, and coming down on it with the knife, stabbing until it let go.

Prudence still held the Lockheed Martin in jittery hands, ready to shoot again if needed, lavender tears rolling down her face.

He stood up after a quick glance around. He was covered in blood. His. Theirs. And the way she stared at him—as if he were one of the Scarecrows—he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was seeing him for who and what he was: A killer.

He needed to get her inside where they’d be safe for a while, but he feared startling her if he moved. Holding his arms out wide, he dared a step closer, his gaze flicking up to check the sky before returning to hers.

She jumped at his movement and for a heart-stopping moment, he stared down the barrel of his own Lockheed Martin.

A shudder ran through her and she blinked. Her arms dropped to her sides and she ran to him, throwing her arms around him.

Jesus. She wasn’t afraid of him. The wave of relief that washed through him left him trembling. He gathered her into his arms and carried her into the cave. He found a place to sit and held her close. “You’re all right, Angel. We’re fine.”

She squeezed her arms around his neck and cried silently.

Christ. He leaned back against the wall and held her tight. Why wouldn’t she say anything?

Her whole body quaked with heart-rending sobs and it gutted him to think somehow he was the cause. “Say something. Yell at me. Curse me. Anything.” He rocked her, unable to sit still any longer. “Goddamn it, please, Angel. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

She sniffled, pulling away to look him in the face. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face tear-streaked and she was furious. “What’s wrong with me? I thought I lost you. They grabbed you and I thought . . . .” A shudder ran through her. “I remembered what they did to the zeblu.”

He gave her a shaky nod. “Me, too.”

She kissed him, her fingers twined punishingly tight in his hair. He got just a taste of her before she pulled away and got to her feet, pacing deeper into the cave. “Instead of asking what’s wrong with me, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong with you? I’m so upset with you, I can’t even look at you right now. You could’ve died, you stubborn ass.” Each word snapped with anger, but she kept her voice the barest whisper. She came back to him and planted her hands on her hips. “Get up. You got us in here, now let’s see where we are.”

Griffin got to his feet, ignoring the pulls and twinges of his torn skin. He didn’t think any of his injuries were life-threatening and he’d be damned if he drew attention to them and added fuel to the fire. It’d be bad enough when she realized Scarecrow blood now covered her, too.

Women. Why’d they have to get so damned emotional? Wasn’t like he was the first one to come up with this plan. And the cave was empty. They were safe until morning. Why the hell couldn’t she be appreciative of the fact they were both still alive?

He followed behind her, deeper into the cave. Two-dozen feet in, the moonlight stopped and everything grew black as Scarecrow blood. “You got my pack?”

She shoved the pack at him without a word. Holy hell, this was going to be a long night.

He dug around until his hand clamped over the night-goggles and slipped them over his face. The ceiling of the cave must’ve reached twenty or thirty feet up, bowl-shaped, with thin, worn scars from where the Scarecrows nested. Somewhere in the back of his mind came the unsettling realization that if they creatures nested up there, the base of the cave must be covered with their shit. Slowly, he lowered his head.

The floor was moving. Worms of all sizes slithered and snaked over the mushy, dung-covered ground. Some were tiny and thin as fishhooks, others were the length of a snake.

He took Prudence’s hand and started backing away, but a light toward the back of the cavern caught his attention. Brighter than moonlight, the light came from a hole in the opposite wall. “I’m gonna go check something out.”

“Not without me.”

Yeah, right. Like she would walk over all that. She didn’t even want to be there. “The floor—” He paused his explanation. If that light proved to be a safe space, he’d need to get her over there one way or another. “—is dirty. Why don’t you let me carry you?”

She snorted. “Keep moving, Warrior. I’m fine.”

“Well, all right, then.” He cleared his throat. This would be amusing. “If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Come on.” He started walking toward the light, his feet sinking into the squishy floor. One of those worms slithered over the toe of his boot and he kicked it across the cave.

Prudence grasped hold of his shirt. “What’s on the floor? I can’t—I can’t see.”

“You don’t want to know, Angel.” He kept going.

She squished herself against his back. “Can’t we go any faster?” Her voice edged up out of a whisper. “Something’s crawling on me.”

He turned, picked her up and bushed the worms from her feet, all the while keeping his steady pace. “Does this get me out of the doghouse?”

“No.”

He paused and her arms wrapped tighter around his neck. “Griffin Jude Payne, don’t you dare drop me.”

A chuckle broke from his mouth. “Christ, you are a piece of work, lad—”

“And don’t you call me lady.”

“What would you prefer?” Something squishy crunched under his boot heel.

“Angel. I like it when you call me Angel.”

“Then act like one.”

Her gasp echoed in the cavern.