The Wilds: The Wilds Book One (8 page)

I’d zeroed in on her soft spot but I hadn’t let loose the killing blow. Yet. “Boy killer? What was he, ten? Twelve?” I asked, underestimating the age on purpose. They didn’t understand, and I didn’t either until that moment. I’d shut up for so long and taken so much shit, I wasn’t sure I was capable of holding back anymore. It was like the restraints were off and the anger spilled out. “How did it feel?” I asked her. “Did you enjoy killing that little boy before he’d even hit the prime of his life?” I asked even though I knew she hadn’t.

“See, Dax? She’s fucking crazy like they say.” Her voice cracked as she said it, and I turned around, realizing he’d come back. I’d just been about to feel bad for what I’d said to her when she had to go and call me crazy.

I turned and looked at Dax. He didn’t say anything, but I saw the warning there. His stare was telling me to shut up or else. Then he was tugging me along with him until we were a good twenty feet away.

“Don’t do that again,” he said once we’d stopped.

I looked up at him undaunted. “She had it coming,” I said, but with a lot less heat than a few minutes ago.

“She had something coming. Not that.”

“What about all the shit she’s been spewing at me?” I asked, getting angry again, but this time it had nothing to do with Lucy. It must be nice to have someone protecting you.

“Different level.”

I backed up. “How do you know what hurts me and to what level? I didn’t get out of that hellhole to be dictated to by anyone.” I put my hands on my hips, broadcasting
who the hell do you think you are
at full blast in his direction. “You might be in charge with them but you aren’t with me.”

“You think so?” He shrugged. “Fine. Stay here.” He looked up at the sky and then back at me. “You’re not in great shape, so my guess is they’ll catch up with you in about two hours. Have a nice life, whatever you’ve got left of it.”

He turned and walked away from me.

Shit. He was totally right. I didn’t even have shoes and Newco probably wasn’t that far behind. This stuff didn’t happen in the Moobie books. Moobie always had the upper hand.

I followed after him, cursing as I went but knowing I was screwed. “I’m coming,” I said.

He stopped and turned to look at me, and I knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Are you going to keep teasing Lucy?”

I looked over at Lucy where she was waiting by her bike looking…well, pretty emotionally fucked up. I guessed I could’ve held back a little, but who knew what a delicate flower she was going to be? I’d been called worse things… Maybe not worse but a lot more often, and I was fine.

“Fine.”

“When we come in contact with other people, don’t speak. You’re a mute. Understand? And don’t take your gloves off again.”

“Why am I mute?” I asked, looking down at the gloves I’d just put back on.

“Because you don’t know the way of the Wilds. You start talking and you might give up the fact that you’re an outsider.”

I nodded but he still didn’t move to get on the bike.

“Do you hear me? Keep your hands out of view and don’t speak.”

“Am I supposed to be deaf too? Because you don’t have to keep repeating yourself.” Hmmm, on a Moobie scale of ten, I wondered where that comeback rated? Probably a five. Certainly not my best.

“I am starting to wonder,” he said, but finally went to get on the bike.

I wasn’t stupid enough to wait for an invite.

Chapter Ten

We rode through the woods for a while before we hopped onto a path that seemed to be more well traveled than anything we’d taken thus far. Every now and then I’d see an old metal sign along the side. The last one we’d passed had the first three letters “VIR” still visible and made me think that this had once been part of those big roads they’d had in the Glory Years. As much as Dax said I wouldn’t make it a week in the Wilds on my own, I definitely wouldn’t be taking any road used as much as this one appeared to be.

It made more sense once we slowed and I looked over Dax’s shoulder and caught sight of the largest bridge I’d ever seen. The thing was an engineering marvel. Seeing something like this made me wonder what the world looked like once upon a time.

As we got closer, I could see a gate blocking the lanes to the bridge, and no one was getting off their bikes to go open it.

“Why are we just sitting here?” I asked. The gate didn’t look that sturdy. “Uh, hello? People still chasing us? Anyone remember that?”

“Shhh. You’re supposed to be a mute,” Dax said.

I was about to argue the point that I was only a fake mute. If he thought I wasn’t going to be talking on a regular basis he was as crazy as Moobie’s sidekick, Doxie. Then I stopped because I doubted he’d know who Doxie was.

Before I got my brain back on the original argument, Dax’s hands went to mine where they’d dropped to the tops of my legs. He grabbed them and put them back at his waist. He tugged his shirt up and over them, my fingers on the flesh of his stomach.

“What are you doing?” I said, about to pull my hands away. His grip on them stopped me and made it worse. All I could think was I hoped he couldn’t tell that my palms were sweating through the gloves. Even if he could, it wasn’t like it was touching him that did it. Maybe I was just nervous because I was on the run for my life? Huh? What about that, Dax?

I saw a guy stepping out of the trees that lined the road. His approach interrupted my silent self-defense and saved me from myself. The guy looked exactly how I’d always heard most of the people from the Wilds described. Leather pants hung low on a wiry frame, shirt ripped in several places and greasy hair slicked back into a thin ponytail at the base of his skull. He also looked like he could use a meal as much as I did.

Dax nodded while remaining seated, but this signal seemed to set Tank into motion. Tank got off his bike and grabbed a capped glass jar with liquid from his bike’s pack. He walked over to the man, who was now positioned in front of the metal gate that blocked the bridge.

The guy took the jar and held it up, eyeing the half-full contents, and shook his head. “There’s four of you now.”

“Three bikes,” Tank argued.

The guy shrugged. “We charge by the head.”

“We aren’t giving you any more,” Dax said. “That fuel in your hand is it.”

“Not enough.” The bridge man’s eyes scanned our group. “What else you got?” And then the man’s eyes settled on me.

“Why he’s looking at me?” I asked. “I don’t have anything to give.”

“Shut. Up,” Dax said, and nudged me with an elbow. “Do you hear anything I say?”

The greasy bridge man started talking. “I think you do.” What he’d just said and the way he was looking at me finally sank in. This guy had to be mighty hard up. No one ever wanted to sleep with me. I looked over at Lucy, the only other girl present, but I totally understood why he might not want to go there. She was beautiful in the same way a praying mantis was, and he’d probably be just as dead after the deed was done.

“Buddy, you and me? It ain’t happening.” And then I said to Dax, “Why does this guy think he owns the bridge? Why are we listening to this crap?”

“I say she fucks him and we get the hell out of here,” Lucy added.

Dax turned toward her for the briefest of moments and her mouth shut. He had that look down. It didn't work on me, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have some skills. Nothing really worked on me.

I looked over at Lucy, amazed at how she’d shut up so quick, and felt a tinge of pity creeping in. I did really lay a mental trip on her earlier. Maybe she’d earned a reprieve for a few days. But I couldn’t let it go without saying something. She needed to know I was being gracious on purpose. “I’ve decided to give you a little leeway. We’ll see how that works out,” I said, not wanting to commit to unlimited cordialness.

“Where’s she from?” the greasy bridge man asked. “Seems different. I never fucked a foreigner.”

I heard Dax sigh loudly. “What did I tell you?” he asked me.

“You had to know the mute thing wasn’t going to work well. I'd say that’s just as much on you as me.”

“Where you from, girl?” the man asked, taking a couple of steps closer.

“None of your fucking business,” Dax said, and was getting off the bike. I reflexively put out my feet and grabbed the handlebars to keep it from tipping over. He walked past Tank and grabbed the fuel on his way. “Stay by her,” I heard him say as he did.

Tank got back on his bike and rolled it a bit closer to me, while Lucy was shooting me the evil eye but not saying anything.

Dax stopped a foot from the guy and handed him the jar. The bridge man shook his head.

I grabbed the handlebars and tiptoe-rolled myself a hair closer to Tank. If I was going to survive in this place, I needed to start learning their ways.

“What’s going on?” I asked Tank, since the mute thing was blown anyway.

“He wants more fuel,” he said, his eyes never leaving where Dax stood and his hand on his gun strapped to his hip.

“That’s, like, your money?” I asked.

“One form and the only kind the pirates will take.”

I looked around. The bridge spanned a huge expanse of water, definitely a nice-sized bay that probably let out into the sea. But there was no boat. “This guy’s a pirate?”

“Pirates control all the waterways. From what I know, they alternate duties. The guys working the bridge are always pissed off.” He looked at me briefly to stress his next words. “They
hate
land duty.” He shrugged a
not my problem
and went back to watching Dax’s back. “I’ve never seen this one before, but Dax will work it out.”

Dax and the bridge man walked a bit farther away. I couldn’t hear what was being said but the bridge man’s stance softened, from something confrontational to very accommodating.

Then the bridge man was shoving the jar back at Dax, shaking his head with one hand up in what looked like a gesture of surrender. Dax didn’t accept the jar and walked away from the man and back to the bike. I scooted backward as he grabbed the handlebars.

“What did you say?” I asked. I needed these kinds of details to add to my arsenal of information on how to live in the Wilds.

“Not now,” he said, and seemed annoyed for someone who’d just come out the winning side of a negotiation.

The bridge man was opening the gate while hollering some gibberish toward the tree line.

“Why’s he yelling at the trees?”

“He’s not yelling at the trees. He’s telling the gunmen who have their sights on us that it’s okay to let us pass.”

“I don’t get it,” I said as we waited for him to finish opening the gate. “Why do the pirates get to say who goes over the bridge? It’s not theirs.”

“Because they’re the ones that keep this thing standing. It is their bridge. It would’ve crumbled a long time ago if they didn’t.”

Tank leaned closer. “Did he agree to the other thing?”

Dax nodded. “Yeah. If they come this far, they won’t let them pass.”

“They’ll never pick up our tracks after that,” Tank said.

We started moving again as I realized he was talking about the group from Newco following us.

***

After crossing the bay, we went deep into the forests again. I hadn’t seen anything but greenery for a few hours until we stopped about thirty feet shy of a large wooden building. It had the kind of detail in the woodwork and a certain character that made me think it had been standing here for a very long time. There was a large porch that ran along the front, with a few wooden chairs sitting unoccupied. A painted sign over the entrance read
Eat, Drink, Sleep.
There were a handful of horses lined up to a hitching post and a barn out back where I guessed a few more horses might be.

The place was amazing!

Dax got off the bike and I was doing a mad grab for handlebars again, wondering what he’d do if I just hopped off with him and let the bike drop next time.

He took a few steps toward the building and started his commander act again. “Tank, you stay out here with Dal. Lucy, you come with me. We’ll get some supplies and be back.” He took another step or so before stopping like he’d forgotten something, and nailed me with one of those
I mean business
stares. “You don’t move, talk or do anything.”

I rolled my eyes but he was already walking off again.

I watched their backs as they went inside, leaving me and Tank behind. I leaned forward, arms resting on the bike’s handlebars as I viewed my very first experience with a true-life establishment in the Wilds. Even the knotty wood of its siding was cool.

“It’s not that great,” Tank said from beside me.

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s not,” I said, wishing I knew what I was doing that looked so pathetically longing. “I’ve just never seen one, is all.”

“One what?”

I waved a hand toward the building. “You know, an
Eat, Drink, Sleep
place.”

He nodded.

I leaned my chin on an arm. I wondered what it was like in there. Were there men drinking and flirting with women? People having bar brawls? Groups playing cards with pistols ready? The more I thought about it, the more it drove me plain crazy. There were all sorts of windows, but I wasn’t going to go shove my nose against one no matter how much I wanted to get a peek in.

“Why don’t you go look through a window and see how they’re making out?” Tank said. “They’re probably fine but you never know.”

I scratched my head. “Yeah, if it’ll help you out.” What else could I do but press my nose against the window if it was for the better of the group?

He nodded. “But don’t go in.”

My tired muscles felt invigorated. I was finally going to see some of the real world. And not even the regular Newco world, but the lawless Wilds where only the toughest survived. I could barely control my enthusiasm. I was hopping and twitching all over the place as I crossed the distance at a jog and climbed up a box to get to the window.

I looked through a thick coat of grime; there were mostly men, and a rough group at that. The place was hazy as people smoked. I’d seen some of the guards do it at the compound and I remembered my father smoking before I’d gone away.

A long wooden bar ran the entire length of the back wall and there was a man standing on the other side of it. I saw Dax and Lucy speaking to him. The rest of the place was filled with tables and chairs and people were eating here and there. There were a couple of girls carrying trays, and they both had these large lumps pressed up toward their chin in a very uncomfortable looking position.

One of the girls served a table not far from the window and the guy yanked her down on his lap. He looped an arm around her waist and she started squirming and fighting him.

I started banging on the window. The guy holding the girl looked over and I wagged my finger, warning him he was doing something bad. Moobie always gave a warning. He thought it was only fair. I was inclined to agree.

The attacker wagged a finger back, but it was his middle one.

Luckily, Dax noticed me and I pointed at the offensive behavior. All he did was point for me to go back to the woods and mouth
get out of the window
. He tried to nail me with another
I mean business
stare.

Poor Dax. Didn’t know how long it was going to take him to realize they didn’t work on me.

But I did do part of what he asked. I stepped out of the window. Then I went to the door. Someone had to go help that girl. I’d been bullied in the Cement Giant for years, and hell if I was going to be another person who stood by and watched another person get abused without helping. Some of the world’s greatest atrocities could’ve been stopped if people hadn’t just stood around watching.

I stepped into the place as I heard Tank screaming, “What the fuck you doing?” from the direction of the woods. I was in before he could stop me.

No one noticed me at first, but once they did, they kept staring. I knew even without the brand, I didn’t look like I belonged. Maybe it was the white dress—I’d left the darker shirt by the bike—or my red hair. No one seemed to have hair like mine. I wasn’t sure what, but something about me seemed to be sticking out to these people. It didn’t matter. I was fine with being different and they could stare all they wanted.

I came up behind the man who still had a firm grip on the struggling girl. He hadn’t noticed me. I grabbed a glass from the table beside me from some guy whose forehead was on his arm. Contents and all, I smashed it over the offender’s head. He slouched over and his arms fell to his sides. I didn’t feel any remorse. I’d given him fair warning he’d crossed the line.