Wisteria (Wisteria Series) (14 page)

BOOK: Wisteria (Wisteria Series)
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One of the men who came out with Mackenzie was waiting for her with a cricket bat.

“You need to calm down,” the woman called out. “There’s nothing you can do for him. I told you as a courtesy. Nun, or whatever you call him? His fate is sealed. Yours is undecided. I need to know if you can help us.”

“What do you want?” Wisteria searched for another way into the dungeon. There was none, because these people had barricaded themselves deep inside.

“You and your friend didn’t travel very far to get here. My bet is that you have a base somewhere in the city. You show up here with no protection and no shoes, like you just got out of bed. I’m guessing someone pushed you out of there.”

“It wasn’t safe, we were almost killed. When my friend is feeling better, you can talk to him.”

“Where is the base?”

“Why?”

“I’m guessing there is no one in there now.”

Wisteria had no clue who was in the Hunter Tower. Her thoughts went to Felip, Piper, and Enric. She’d no idea where they were and if they were all right. If by some miracle they survived, Wisteria couldn’t send these people into their home. Even though Bach and his friends were weird, they’d taken her in and she wasn’t going to betray them. “There’s only about fifty of you. His place has more than enough space for everyone. Talk to him.”

“A group of Polish people showed up here to
share
this place with us. Secretly, they tried to take over,” Mackenzie informed her. “We took care of them and if we move into your base, I do not expect the others to share.”

“Is that why you want to kill him? You want to take over?”

“We also need the food. It’s clear you have been sheltered from how hard it is out here. Everyone does what they need to to survive now. Don’t you think my people deserve the same quality of life you’ve had?”

“You’re worse than the crazies.” She moved away.

“Wisteria, tell me where the base is.” Mackenzie produced a handgun and this made Wisteria laugh.

“There’s no way you’d ever use that here. The infected from miles away will hear it and they will be here and completely—”

Mackenzie hit her across the face with the butt of the gun. “Stupid little girl, a gun can be used in many ways.” The woman struck her again. “Let her go back to her boyfriend. Once your friend’s gone, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”

The man at the door stepped aside.

Wisteria groaned from the pain from the blow to her face. “Why don’t you just ask him?” She slowly rose up.

“Because you strike me as someone who will eventually talk and you’ll need someone to save you when your boyfriend is gone. You’ll need me,” Mackenzie leered.

“I’ll never need help from someone like you.”

The door leading back to the dungeon opened and Sammy emerged.

“Take her back to her boyfriend,” Mackenzie ordered. “Let Owena decide which one of the two she wants first.”

“Are you sure we want the boy? I could get the sickness from him,” Sammy fretted.

“No, if he had Nero, he would’ve manifested by now,” the older woman replied.

Sammy didn’t look convinced. Clutching Wisteria’s upper arm, he dragged her back to the room where Bach was. “Just tell Mackenzie what she wants to know. It’ll be better for you,” Sammy advised before leaving her there.

 

* * * * *

 
 

Wisteria crouched on the floor of the kitchen, positioning herself in front of the door to their room, her sword beside her. Garfield had slipped it to her the night after her run-in with Mackenzie.

“Why are you helping me?” She had to ask him. “You’re finished, if they find out.”

“Because if I stay here, I’m dead anyway. Maybe we can get back to the Tower and we’ll be okay for a while, once we figure out how to get in.” He dropped the sword by her feet. “Mackenzie was able to kill the Hansen family, a family of four. I stand no chance alone.”

He snuck away and she didn’t see him again for two days. At least she thought it was two days.

It was hard to notice the passage of time because the room was dark all the time. Bach still seemed to be ill, as far as she could tell while waiting outside the door. The odds that she would be able to hold everyone off were slim, but she might make them think twice before trying anything. Bach was her way home and if he’d found a way to bring her from Norton to London, he must know a way back.

“Hiya.” Owena walked into the kitchen that led to Wisteria’s room.

The older woman was accompanied by two boys who looked to be about Wisteria’s age.

“Hi,” one of the boys greeted.

“Stop!” Wisteria drew out her sword. “What are you doing?”

“We just want to check on the boy,” Owena cooed.

“You stay back,” Wisteria warned.

“Darling, we’re not going to do anything to him,” the woman defended in a motherly tone. “Greg, Max, and I brought some food. I also know you haven’t eaten in a while.” She showed Wisteria a plate of what looked like spam.

“Why isn’t it in the can?” Wisteria was so hungry.

“We’re just trying to help,” Owena prompted. “I didn’t think you would be able to open a can and hold your weapon at the same time. Greg, why don’t you leave it over there for her?”

One of the boys Wisteria assumed was Greg, placed the food on the floor a few feet in front of her.

“You have to choose if you want to save your sick friend in there, or your new friend Garfield. To Mackenzie, it makes no difference.”

“What does Garfield have to do with this?” Wisteria asked.

The other boy, Max, lunged at her from the side. Grabbing her, he knocked her against the wall. She beat him with the handle of her sword and he jumped back as Greg lunged at her. She then swung at him, slicing him twice.

“Ah!” Greg screamed as his left hand fell to the ground.

“Ha!” Wisteria backed away in horror. She’d cut off his hand. Never before had she used her sword on uninfected people. “Sorry,” she muttered.

“Ah!” Greg reeled in pain.

Her instinct was to comfort him, but Max shot her a fierce look.

“You’re dead, Wisteria,” Max threatened.

The three offenders hurried out of the room.

Some tense moments later, she heard some muffled screams, but those soon died away.

 

* * * * *

 
 

A few hours went by. The aroma of smoked pork started to fill the clammy air. Wisteria heard the sound of laughter and excitement coming from the corridor.

Startled, she saw Garfield sneak into her apartment.

“You can’t come in here,” she warned. “They’re going to know you’ve been here.”

The boy was extremely pale and his eyes were red. “They already know I gave you the sword. They’ve sent me here to convince you to tell where you came from and let them through, or they’re going to come after me.”

“If I let them take him, then we’re dead, Garfield. Bach’s special and he can do things.”

“But how do you know he’s going to recover? You’re not a doctor.”

“I’m not a killer and I can’t just let them take him. You’re not either, otherwise you would’ve told Mackenzie yourself.”

“So, they’ll take me.” He closed his eyes as tears ran down his cheeks. He glanced at the trail of blood from Wisteria’s encounter with Greg. Garfield sighed heavily and pulled out a handgun which he pointed at her.

“Garfield?” Shocked, she stared at him.

Flipping the gun around, he offered her the handle. “I need you to shoot me.” He sniffed while fighting back tears. “I don’t want to be alive when they butcher me, like they did to Greg or Harry.”

“Greg?” Her eyes widened.

“What did you think they were cooking? Pork?” He shoved the weapon into her hand.

“I’m not a killer, Garfield.” She refused to take his weapon.

“Please?” He dropped to his knees.

Mackenzie entered the room, accompanied by Sammy and Owena.

The boy tucked the gun away and rose to his feet.

Mackenzie studied them for a moment before stepping forward. “I don’t know what I’m interrupting, but you should say yes,” she remarked. Then, she turned to Owena and took what looked like a plate covered with a napkin. “Wisteria, you look famished and I heard the spam wasn’t to your liking.” Mackenzie removed the napkin revealing a piece of very fatty, blood-red steak. “So, I thought I would get you something better, courtesy of Greg.”

“No,” Garfield rasped. “No!”

“Well, actually, it was courtesy of you.” Mackenzie offered the plate to Wisteria.

Wisteria was sickened.

The woman placed the plate on the kitchen counter and then stepped back. “I won’t come any closer, because we’ve all see what you can do, little girl. You’ve got a real dark rage in you. I admire that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Wisteria asked.

“Me? We’re here to survive, Wisteria, and we will,” Mackenzie informed her proudly.

“I’d rather die than become what you are.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You’re not a quitter. You’re a survivor like me and all of us,” Mackenzie maintained.

“You’re mad.” Wisteria frowned and chewed at her bottom lip.

“And what’s even more amazing is your dark rage reminds me of—me.” Mackenzie beamed like a proud parent. “Stay with us and help us.”

“You can’t have him!” Wisteria yelled back at her.

“You decide. We’ll take both of you and your friend Garfunkel here, or just Nun. Three for the price of one. Help and I promise you’ll be left alone and you’ll be by my side.”

Garfield looked stricken, as if he might throw up.

Wisteria noticed Sammy wince at Mackenzie’s statement. Then, he scowled at her.

“I’d rather become a biter!” Wisteria declared. “You used to run for cancer and you tried to help people.”

“I’m still helping people. I’m still a good person. I’m helping them to survive,” Mackenzie stated firmly as she made her way to the door. “But I’ll let you think about it for a while. It will be some time before we’re done enjoying Greg.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Bach sat on the mattress contemplating the choices that had brought him to live in such a disgusting place. However, he was happier than he would ever admit that Wisteria had decided to stick with him. Even though she preferred to wait outside the door, at least he knew she was near.

He was now feeling great. His dizzy spells ended a day ago and he was now fully in control of his mind, which allowed him to be in full control of his body. This meant he could heal himself faster. Yes, when he first arrived he was in a bad state, but having rested and eaten, he was regenerating nicely. Nothing works better than food and sleep for the Family. Inspecting the shana on his right arm, he saw the spots hadn’t turned to pure black yet, but they’d regained most of their color.

Wisteria came in. “You look much better.” Placing her sword beside him, she knelt down in front of him. A large, dark bump protruded from her temple.

“Your face is swollen.”

She seemed to ignore his observation. “I got you some more food.” She had brought another tin of that revolting pink tinned meat.

Even though it was revolting, he was eating what she’d been bringing, because she claimed that was all she could get. Felip was a much better steward, but he felt there was no benefit in complaining.

As she placed her hand on his neck, he wanted to grab her hand and remove it from his person. He’d told her hundreds of times that he hated being touched, but he was starting to not mind her doing it. His feelings for her were forbidden and would do her more harm than good in the end.

“You’re less cold than you were.” She tried to smile.

He could see from her eyes that she’d been crying. She’d never seemed happy in this place. Bach knew a lot of that had to do with him and the way he treated her. He should’ve been nicer, but how nice did one need to be to a Terran? Plus, he had never needed anyone and especially one who could be made into a Thayn. He hesitated and reached out to touch her hand. He found that he could not. Even though he knew he could trust her, he still couldn’t bring himself to touch her, a Terran, the way he wanted to. “What happened to you?”

Her hands trembled as she picked up the sword. “We need to leave as soon as you can. We’re not safe here.”

“I am not in danger any longer.” Bach knew full well that he was beyond any risk of danger from the dungeon dwellers, now that he had rejuvenated.

“Yes, you are,” she insisted. “As soon as you think you can travel, we have to go.”

“Wisteria.” He heard the Terran archer call out to her. “Come outside.”

Immediately, she got up and turned to leave him again. He reached over to pull her back. “Wisteria.” He felt her pulse racing in her wrist. “There is nothing those people can do to me now, but I will leave when I am ready.”

“I hope so.” For a moment, it looked like she believed him and her pulse slowed.

“Wisteria,” the archer boy, Garfield wailed. “Hurry!”

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