Bound to Ashes (The Altered Sequence Book 1) (18 page)

“They’re back,” he says in the happiest tone I’ve heard come out of him.
 

“Reaction time, strength, and that weird window disappearance....” Jules says, throwing her arms up in the air. “So what if he’s one of us. Good for him. What
I
wanna know is why he hates our guts so bad.”

The smoke from our fire probably dissipates into nothing by the time it escapes the underground market. We’re far from the stadium, no one followed us, I don’t think. But the others don’t show it. James sits with a rifle in his lap and Peregrine still has one of the pilfered backpacks on, ready to go at a second’s notice. I reach out and lay my hand on her knee, for her benefit, but mostly mine.

“Who knows,” Dev says, staring into the fire.

“What are the chances he found his way so close to our route?” James says. He couldn’t wash the blood out of his dark hair all the way and it’s a little less than unbecoming.

“Pretty fishy,” Peregrine agrees.

“He’s tracking us,” Ashton says. “Somehow.”

“How would he even know we were leaving in the first place?”

James looks at me soberly and says, “He could have interrogated someone.” A wave of heavy silence follows as my friends remember past instances. Just knowing that guy is still alive and out there, wreaking his cruelties on the world and my people—

“Dammit!” I slam my empty can on the ground next to me and the spoon rattles crazily. “Sorry.... But you’re probably right.”

“Thanks,” he says acidly.

“So let’s lay it all out,” Peregrine says. “We’ve got a crazy su— I mean, Altered— after us, probably right now. And we’ve got about a third of the supplies we need to get to the dome.”

“At least we have plenty of ways to defend ourselves,” Vinder says, eyeing the literal pile of firearms behind him. “Maybe if there’s anyone left that’s not totally bloodthirsty like those guys, we could use them to trade. Maybe.” He doesn’t sound convinced, he’s just trying to help. Forcing himself to stay optimistic. We need it.

Peregrine smiles weakly and says, “We’ll make it.”

The weak stares from the others are her only answers. The silence reaffirms that those words are just empty niceties.

“I’m turning in,” James says, standing up and brushing his hands. “Did we get back any sleeping things?”

“Nope,” Peregrine says.

He says nothing, just emits a long, heavy breath as he heads off.

“Looks like we’re roughin’ it for real this time,” Vinder says with a smile.

“Guess we are.” Wouldn’t be the first time. We’ve all come from worse. I look around the fire at everyone—Vinder we found huddled under an overpass wrapped in flea-infested blankets and a tarp. I met James for the first time when he was more or less a zombie, dried out and hollow, scarred from who knows what. Peregrine and I weathered the collapse together. And that’s not even counting the Altered. We’ve all been through hell. What’s one more trip?

[Heydrich]

I was so close.

Close to my goal. Close to them. That damn human got in the way again. I think of her with that gun, on my skimmer, those eyes... I thought she was under my thumb but she was planning it all from the start. I think of her and I think of breaking her neck in my hands. I think of grabbing that rifle out of her hands, gunning down anything in my way, getting to her, killing her, making her know what she did to me. All the plans she ruined.

The wind is cold, not cold enough, pushing past me as I cling under the overhang. Below me, nothing but blind humans going about their lives. Pointless toiling, pointless lives. Why do they bother?

I crawl into the window. It just reminds me that I failed. I failed to kill that soldier. I failed to best that woman. That lying, crafty,
bitch
of a woman—

Heydrich. You failed. You failed yourself. But maybe that’s what was meant to happen at that moment—we can still find them. They’re easy to track. They barely know where to go. Tracking wounded game is more difficult. They practically leave a trail of blood in the dirt saying, ‘Come get us.’

I pass Etcher’s lifeless body in a heap. He deserved it. I only wish I was the one to do it. He was hesitant when he should have struck the killing blow. Typical human naivety. Soon I won’t have to deal with them ever again.

I won’t have to put up with this world anymore.

There’s just one thing left on my list.

I have to make the other soldiers
know
.

[Dev]

My eyes blink open and I find that everyone is still asleep. No surprise, there. I shift against the concrete pillar behind me and glance around. It must be midnight by how deep the darkness is. I count the bodies—everyone’s here. Breath comes easier. But there’s another dark lump in the group—a furry one. Wow, that mutt found us again. I have to hand it to Punk, he’s a pretty good survivor. He twitches in his sleep, maybe dreaming. He must be sleeping the deepest out of everyone. At least they’re sleeping.

Except Jules.

“You’re up early.”

She flops over and stares up at me apathetically. “Same to you, Cat-Eyes. Nightmares?”

I shake my head. “No, not this time.”

“Well you must have given me all of yours,” she says, chuckling and sitting up. She rubs the back of her neck and groans a little.

“But I thought you ‘didn’t get nightmares’?” She’s always throwing that around, acting like nightmares are for the weak. She could use a taste of her own medicine.

She looks in my general direction, since I don’t think she can see an inch in front of her face, and raises an eyebrow at me. “Yeah, you got me. Whatever. They
suck
, though.”

Put lightly, yeah. “Want to talk about it?”

She snorts and says, “Actually, I don’t think they were nightmares. More like... I dunno, pieces of memories. Like in one,” she shifts to face me, “I’m plowing fields and planting bean seeds and thinking about how much of a waste this is, and how we should be looking for supplies in the city instead. Some canned stuff, you know. Much more yield than planting dead seeds.”

That’s... strange. “Unless you had a secret garden back at the silo....”

She shakes her head and smiles. “No, it’s not my memory.”

“...What?”

“It was Michael’s,” she says thoughtfully. “That guy I put out back at the stadium.”

I stare at her a moment longer, waiting to see if she’ll elaborate. She just looks solemn and almost nostalgic, like she’s facing something she can’t avoid.

“When you use your ability... you get people’s memories.”

“Brilliant deduction,” she says, but with a shadow of her usual luster. “Yeah. When I get in their brain to turn it off, memories are all over the place. It’s all just electricity, which I think is how my abilities work. Probably. But memories aren’t just stored in a little safe box in the brain, they migrate and wander, and I
get
some of them sometimes. And sometimes it’s more than memories. Bet you didn’t know I know how to ride a bicycle. Or hotwire a car.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. Got that from one of the prisoners back at the lab. But you know, speaking of which,” she laughs, “you know what’s really messed up? I can’t even
remember
the labs.”

It takes me a second to register what she said. The labs. The labs that are such a permanent fixture in my mind, the labs that won’t leave me alone. “What?”

“Or the revolt, or, well, anything up until I found you guys,” she says. “It’s like....” she looks down at her hands and flexes them a few times. “Like the other peoples’ memories replace mine.”

I wonder if she’s got some of mine churning around in her mind. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. “That might be a good thing. If I could get rid of some of my memories, I would.”

She looks at me with bold, serious eyes. “Would you?”

My thoughts snag on her question. I mean, I would, wouldn’t I? No more nightmares, no more weird flashbacks, no more freezing up at the wrong times....

“Whatever,” she says, afraid of being too serious for too long. “I’ll get over it.” But by the way she hangs her head and stares listlessly, I have a feeling she won’t. I know that look. I’ve been there. The thousand-yard stare.

“Try to get some sleep, Jules.” It’s all I can say to try and comfort her.

She lingers for a moment and says quietly, “Yeah. G’night.”

[Cain]

This city has way too many people in it.

Compared to the last city, it’s packed. So far I’ve counted five stragglers hiding in building shadows and watching us through boarded up windows. Wonder how long they’ve been holed up here. I sneer at any that catch my eye. They’re all scared. Scared and weak. I can’t count on Ashton to listen for the click of a rifle loading, or the shuffle of feet. He’s too busy in his dreamland to pay attention.

The human woman Alessandra stops us again. “Cain?”

Every time she says my name I want to put a bullet between her eyes. “What.”

“Do you see that?”

I glance in the direction she gestures. Out of curiosity only. About a mile away, a tin can rattles across the asphalt. A stray breeze, maybe. Or a stray human. I wait for a second, hand resting on the rifle. It’s not mine, and it feels unfamiliar, but I’ll put it to use. “Yeah. Something’s down there.” There it is again, a sliver of movement—a glint of steel.

I raise and fire. Everyone around me jumps.

“What the hell, man, some warning next time—” Jules says.

I ignore her. It’s the only way to get her to shut up. I walk between them with the barrel trained on the movement by the alley. Judging by the weight, I have five shots left. The shot is still echoing along the flat buildings.

“Wait,” Alessandra says, placing her hand on my rifle. I jerk it away from her. Before I can do anything else (like smash her face in) she lifts her own weapon and jogs forward.

What’s she going to do that I can’t?

“Hey!” She shouts. “We know you’re there. We outnumber you and outgun you. Get where we can see you.”

A heavy moment later and a human stumbles out of the alley, hands held up. “Don’t want any trouble,” he says. He’s scared. I can see his eyes flick from Alessandra, to me, to Ashton, all of us. The pulse in his neck quickens. Sweat beads on his forehead. He knows he’s dead.

Alessandra has everyone’s attention. She keeps walking forward. The others follow for a few paces, then stop, leaving me to bring up the rear. She’s only a few yards from him now.

“We need supplies,” she says. I wonder if the other humans can hear them, they look clueless. Dev and the others can hear it loud and clear, though.

“I don’t got—”

She jerks the gun at him and he flinches. “Don’t lie to me.”

I’m impressed. This is the first time she’s shown some metal. We’re finally getting something done.

“I don’t have much. Look, it’s just me and my daughter, we—”

“Give us your supplies. Food, water, ammunition, whatever. Hand it over and we’ll leave.” Her voice isn’t used to commands. It breaks and her grip is shaky.

“But— but we’ve spent—”

He’s cut off by another jab from her. “I
don’t
want to have to kill you.”

He’s facing the asphalt, shaking, hands hovering awkwardly near his head. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, please, just— don’t kill her. Look, the stuff’s over there in the alley, just please don’t—”

Alessandra lowers her rifle a few inches. A mistake. That one passive gesture is enough to change her body language, she’s no longer in control. She has no idea. She also doesn’t see the man reach for his pocket.

No one sees my finger pull the trigger, but everyone sees him flip over in a spray of blood and hit the ground like meat, arms spread-eagled.

Alessandra jumps and whirls around to face me. She’s shocked. So is everyone else. I reload. The guy said his daughter was with him, she could be watching, I won’t let my guard down. Not like Alessandra did.

Everyone else is silent except for Alessandra’s stomping feet and raising voice: “We didn’t have to kill him, he was offering—”

“You don’t see.”

She stops and looks at me, baffled, and says, “What?”

“He was reaching for his pocket. You let your guard down and he read you.”

“So you
saved
me?”

I can’t admit to that. Of course I didn’t. I don’t care what happens to this dense bitch. “Reflex.” That’s it. Just a reflex. That’s what snipers do. We provide cover in the form of high-range firearms. Even if our ‘commanding officers’ are completely inept.

Another movement: a sleeve whipping around a door frame in the building nearest us, behind the boarded-up window. Ashton looks as well. I pull up the rifle and fire.

“What the hell!?” Jules shrieks accusingly. Multiple voices join hers.

“What are you
doing
?”