Bloodlands (21 page)

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Authors: Christine Cody

BOOK: Bloodlands
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A
fter I listened to Gabriel talking to the oldster, me and Chaplin followed him to my domain.
It was the time when night was at its coolest, with the sun a few hours away from starting its rise, but Gabriel clearly wasn’t ready to rest. No, now that he’d given us his opinions about what we needed to do, I could see he was itching to grab a weapon and go outside, because he wanted all of us to see that he wasn’t afraid, and we shouldn’t be, either.
Right. Hell, I could still feel my neighbors’ gazes on each other, watching. Waiting. Seeing what I would do next, too.
In the end, the oldster had been full of his own ideas. Gabriel had obviously revved him up to a level where he could spit fire, but I knew the rest of the community wouldn’t act. There was too much to lose.
Still, a part of me had listened to Gabriel and wanted to follow him, ready to face down Stamp, whatever the cost. And part of me knew it was just a plain bad idea, because once we came out of hiding, there’d be no holding back—that’d be it. Our lives would change.
They might even end.
Gabriel perused my weapons wall, and I retreated to my room with Chaplin, who was still sluggish. There, I shed the knit cap and blanket I’d been huddling under, my hair still damp from an earlier bracing shower until I took my time now in drying it more. Then I put on my nightclothes—a simple linen sleeveless top and pants. I intended to bury myself under my covers, just as soon as I made sure Gabriel wouldn’t be causing any trouble.
Though my getup wasn’t an outfit a woman would wear to entice, I think I ended up doing it to Gabriel, anyway, because when I came out of my quarters, his gaze lingered on me, making me aware that the material showed off much more than my usual baggy shirts.
Even half out of it, Chaplin seemed to notice Gabriel’s attentions, too. My dog positioned himself in front of me, close to my legs, his fur seeming to bristle, his gaze lowered at our guest.
Gabriel sure enough caught my friend’s protectiveness. But would he also recognize that Chaplin was just as put out with me, too?
I rushed to get this over with so I could bury myself in bed. “You going out again?” My voice was flat, and it sounded as if something inside me had lain down and wouldn’t get back up after the drama with Chompers and Chaplin. It sounded as if I’d already been beaten by the trouble that was bound to rain down on us now, with this newest death.
Gabriel checked over my shotgun, which I hadn’t unloaded after I’d used it to cover him when he’d arrived that first night. “No use in my staying in here. You just go on and get some sleep, and I’ll hammer my time out by patrolling for any activity until the sun arrives. Maybe Stamp hasn’t discovered Chompers’s body yet. Besides, I think the heat will bar any imminent attacks, even if Stamp’s crowd has got suits to withstand the day. If you ask me, I can’t see anybody coming at us until dusk, but it’s good to watch the entire landscape for signs of them now. The viszes wouldn’t give me such a wide view from down here.”
I couldn’t believe it. “You want me to
sleep
?”
“It’s either that or go outside with me.”
He said it like it was a challenge, as if he suspected I was some sort of coward for using walls and blankets as cover.
I was just about to go back into my quarters without giving him the satisfaction of an answer when Chaplin woofed at me.
He was talking nonsense, and I bent down to quiet him. Gabriel stood there, uncomprehending.
He’s right,
Chaplin said.
Let’s go outside, Mariah. It’s time. It’ll make you stronger. It’ll whip the fear out of you, bit by bit, until you can master it.
“I don’t think so.”
But before I could rise to my feet, the dog took his paws and pushed at me, making me stumble back. I fell on my ass, my breath jarred from my lungs.
Gabriel took a step forward, but Chaplin slumped away from both of us, muttering something angry that not even I understood.
Had the mutt lost his senses? His behavior was almost enough to make me think he was pissed at me for letting him get captured. Didn’t he know I’d been out of my head with fear when I’d seen him bound up and drugged on the visz? I’d been so upset that I’d even lost some time or . . . I don’t know what I lost, but there’d been a blank spot in my emotions and thoughts, a blip, just like I remembered a television looking when you switched from one channel to another.
But I knew Chaplin was angry about more than my staying inside.
“Going out there wouldn’t result in anything constructive,” I said. “It wouldn’t mean I was gaining control of any kind of fear, and you know it.”
Gabriel’s expression told me that he was using my side of the conversation to build a whole one, as if he were thinking that Chaplin was asking me to go outside in order to make up for not coming after him earlier. No wonder Gabriel looked at me as if I were a coward.
I could feel my face flushing, my blood boiling.
Chaplin turned round to bark at me, his comments sleepy yet irate. Gabriel’s expression changed, as if he suddenly understood what the dog was saying. But how?
Unless he was a vampire and Chaplin was allowing him access to his mind . . .
Get it together,
the dog said to me.
I told Dmitri I would see to your survival. Told him I would help you get better. Yet, how can I if you won’t allow it?
“But what if—” I started.
Try,
the dog said with a yowl.
Instinctively, I held up a hand in front of my face, rearing away from his livid sounds. But just as my own frustration and rage was welling up, Gabriel reached out, offering his own hand to help me up.
I turned my face away from him. I breathed, settling my pounding heart, the rise in my blood temperature, the quaking that threatened my body.
Chaplin smoothed out his tone.
This is the situation we find ourselves in, Mariah. I’m doing my best with it, and you need to, also. Prove to me . . . to yourself . . . that we will get over this. Do it now while we’re still offering to help. While
anyone
is still offering.
Gabriel picked up where the dog ended, keeping his palm outstretched. “Just come outside for a short time. Give Chaplin what he’s asking for. It clearly means a lot to him.”
He was apparently trying to keep the peace in this household, because the last thing we needed was to be divided in the face of Stamp.
He added, “Chaplin would be able to sense any of Stamp’s men if they do come around, Mariah, and I’d get you inside pronto if need be.” He leaned closer to me. “Just take one step forward, because you’re going to need all the ground you can get underneath your feet from this point on.”
It seemed as if Chaplin had given Gabriel some background on me, and I glanced at the dog. Tears were making my vision wavy, so I saw Chaplin through the heat of them.
None of this was fair. I hadn’t asked to be like this. I hadn’t let those men into my family’s home in Dallas to do what they’d done.
I’ll be out there, too,
Chaplin said,
just in case. And Gabriel . . . having him with you is going to do a world of good. You’ll see.
Gabriel . . .
He still had his hand out to me, and I knew if I refused him, Chaplin would give up on me altogether. There was nowhere for me to go, really, no other choice for me to make.
I had to move forward.
Closing my eyes, I gripped Gabriel’s hand, expecting the body-electric awareness I got just from touching him.
A second zinged by. I don’t know what he was thinking, but his fingers seemed to tighten, as if my flesh on his shocked him just as much as me.
Then he hauled me to my feet and helped me to a stand.
Chaplin clumsily rushed over, as if hurrying before I changed my mind. He nudged me to my quarters, and it wasn’t a minute later when I emerged wearing a large, pea-colored coat and my boots. Afterward, with the dog panting at the foot of the ladder, I ascended, one rung at a time. Gabriel followed, and Chaplin went to his trapdoor to get out.
When Gabriel came up top, he immediately covered the a with his weapon, just in case something was round. But we were all clear. Then Gabriel helped me outside, Chaplin’s gaze trained on me, as if proud to see me taking this step. But there was concern there, as well, as he again sniffed the relatively cooler air, which was traced with dryness and the grit of wasteland.
Gabriel took up position at my shoulder. “Looks like Chaplin didn’t find anyone out and about who shouldn’t be.”
I merely stared into the distance, toward the rock-jammed hills. Stamp’s place would probably be just beyond.
Chaplin lethargically circled round to bump the back of my legs, urging me to move. My heart rate seemed to take me over, fast and frail, likely to snap at any minute into a run. I breathed, told myself I could do this, if only to show Chaplin I could.
“So where’s your usual perimeter?” Gabriel asked me. “I mean, how far do you normally go at any given time you need to be out here?”
“My normal perimeter?” My mouth turned up in a mirthless grin. “I don’t go past the cusp of our community, if I come out here at all.”
Thud-a-thud
went my pulse.
I had the coat bundled round me as if it were a life jacket in this sea of dirt and gray-cast, waning-mooned night. A slight wind cuffed at my hair, and I thought that it just might be with enough force to send me back inside.
Gabriel grabbed hold of my coat, discouraging me from going anywhere while clutching the shotgun in his other hand.
“Come on, then,” he said. “Might as well make the dog happy.”
He pulled me along, Chaplin following at a distance. Smart dog.
My flailing pulse beat harder when we came to the edge of the community caverns. I stopped, unwilling to go any farther, my breathing strained as I lowered myself to a knee.
I wanted to break free . . . wanted to run . . .
Couldn’t . . . do . . . either.
“Far enough,” I said. “Can we go back now?”
Chaplin barked.
No. You’ve been doing fine, so now you’ll sit here and face it for once.
“And this is your way of helping,” I said, wishing I could just kill him.
Stop being afraid.
Chaplin was glaring at me via his sleepy eyes.
Fear destroys this control you’re showing right now. Don’t. Fear. We can’t afford for you to be weak—not anymore.
Gabriel stood by, as if knowing that this was something he had no business in. Still, he said, “Mariah, you’re going to be stronger now, for when trouble comes again. Just remember that.”
Listen to him, thinking he had his finger on the pulse of what was happening. As I sat there, cursing Chaplin, I almost hated Gabriel, too, for seeing me like this, shamefaced and put in my place.
Surveying the area, the dog acted as a sentinel, and I kept breathing. One inhalation, one exhalation. In. Out. Before now, the rhythm had been outpacing me, but miraculously, I seemed to be catching up.
Maybe Chaplin had been right. Maybe I just needed to face what was out here, master it.
That was when I stopped hating my dog.
“You okay?” Gabriel asked.
I stopped hating Gabriel, also, and I started to shake my head but then halted, nodding only once.
That seemed to be good enough for him. He was peering at the sky now, as if concerned about the coming sunrise. I watched him carefully, wondering if he was going to bolt for shelter if we stayed out here for too long. If he would finally admit to what he was.
Funny, but there wasn’t much of a monster evident in him. It could be that he really was one of the good ones and I’d only misjudged.
“You know,” I said softly, “I can normally tell my bad guys from good.”
“Can you?” he asked.
“Don’t ask me to explain, but I’ve had my time with evil. Every one of us out here has, and that’s why I’m glad Stamp’s men are dying. Bad guys deserve their comeuppance, and they sure don’t get it back in society. There, unchecked greed is rewarded. Out here, it’s punished, and that’s why you don’t go outside if you’ve got something to answer for. That’s the way of the world here. Everyone but Stamp seems to know it.”
“Not all bad guys are like him. Some don’t try to be greedy. Some are grouped in with the rest because they had no other choice.”
He sounded like he had something to defend, and the hair on my skin reacted.
Vampire,
my common sense whispered. I wished he would just tell me, because there was so much I wanted to know. Could all monsters be good? Could vampires read minds?
Then it hit me: Could they soothe a person and give them peace merely by looking in their eyes and willing it . . . ?
Chaplin barked.
Time to move farther on, Mariah.
Damn the dog. He was going to hold my feet to the fire.
My heartbeat picked up again.
“Ready for a yard more?” Gabriel asked. “I think that’s all Chaplin is asking right now—for you to cross over from where the community is beneath you. Then maybe you can go on home.”
I was about to tell him to screw off, but then I slowly got to my feet. He was right. Chaplin wouldn’t let me off the hook until I did what he wanted.
“Just a couple of steps,” Gabriel said, putting his hand on the small of my back.
The bulk of my coat didn’t really erase what he did to me: sending a buzz up my spine, fingers of energy thrusting out to every part of me.
He gave me a little push, and I all but tripped a few steps forward.
And there I was, across that imaginary line between here and there—the borders I’d tried so hard to keep myself to. My heartbeat was a crash of panicked keens roaring together.
In the midst of my chaos, I inadvertently looked toward Stamp’s place. He was the reason I was so vulnerable, the reason I was in a crisis.
But when I heard Gabriel behind me whispering, “Mariah?” I came to myself, stunned by my remaining emotion.
What would I have to do to overcome it? Would I ever be able to?
Without Chaplin’s approval, I turned round and bolted back home, craving the serenity of my workroom.
But once I got inside my domain, I never quite made it there.
16
 
Gabriel
 
G
abriel watched as Mariah ran ahead of them, darting inside the entrance. He’d heard her flailing body rhythms this entire time, connecting to them, so he hadn’t been at all comfortable with what’d just transpired. Before Chaplin could get to his trapdoor, Gabriel stepped in front of the dog.

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