Bound to Ashes (The Altered Sequence Book 1) (7 page)

Vinder has his arms crossed and is drumming his fingers anxiously on his arms. “So,” he says.

Why does he feel the need to talk...? “What?”

“How long have you....” he wiggles a finger at my chest. “Been able to... you know.”

My breath falls out of me in an angry sigh. “Birth.”

He avoids my gaze and fidgets with his hands.

He’s probably wondering about the word ‘birth’. If I was actually born, or spewed out of some amniotic test tube.

No, no. Stop that. You can’t afford to get mad at
these
humans. Don’t make them change their minds about you. They still outnumber you. They’re still capable of killing you at a moment’s notice if you prove to be too dangerous. To them, you’re unpredictable. You’re dangerous.

Feeling’s mutual.

Alessandra comes back with a fat backpack and says to Vinder, “Tell everyone that I’ll be gone for a few days tops. If I don’t come back before then, leave without me, the plan is still the same. You know where to find everything. And,” she smiles, “tell Peregrine I’m in good hands.”

Vinder salutes and squeezes past to rush down the hallway and out a door. Alessandra looks at me and says, “Let’s get going.”

[Alessandra]

I won’t kid myself. I’m pretty freaked out, here.

E4-17. Such an old number in my memory, but it’s him alright. Is that his name he goes by, or does he have a different one? Who would have given him a name? If I ask, what’ll he do?

He’s not exactly the most comfortable company. The whole time we were in the yard in front of the lobby, he looked like a cat ready to bolt, hackles raised. Every time someone passed, his big yellow eyes followed them. Praying for them not to notice him. But it was hard for them not to. He looked so anxious he might die. I’m glad we hurried things along for his sake.

But even now that it’s just me and him, walking down the highway, nothing’s changed. I’m going crazy from the silence. Nothing about him is loose or casual. At any second, it wouldn’t surprise me if he changed his mind and took off without me. Or worse.

My mouth operates without my consent. “I never got your name,” He jumps a little.

He waits for a second, then says, “It’s Dev.”

Dev. I smile.

He furrows his brow. “What?”

“Nothing,” I say, and turn my gaze to the horizon, which is very slowly becoming lighter and lighter. It should only be a half-day’s walk to the bridge like he wants.

Urges to attempt conversation rise in me, but I suppress them. I can’t afford to have him asking questions. How I knew about his fire breath, for starters. Things he... doesn’t need to know. At least right now. I feel cold despite the sweltering, midsummer drought. The sun doesn’t need to be up for this place to feel like a desert... hard to imagine that a long time ago, it wouldn’t stop raining here.

Thankfully, curiosity doesn’t seem to be E4-17’s—err, Dev’s—strong suit. He’s dead silent and glaring into the distance.

The highway passes under us slowly. I can hardly remember what a clear road looks like. Concrete barriers, crumbling and strewn, bar our straight path. Dead cars coated in thick dust are still standing after their owners drove them into the barriers or other cars, or tanks, ending it all. Most of the bodies have turned to skeletons by now. Scavengers had their way with the debris, but even they’re gone now.

That was so long ago, Aless, it’s pointless to go back down that road.

I glance up at Dev. It’s amazing how something so powerful can look so on edge. His body is well proportioned, corded muscles very prominent, but there’s no healthiness to it. Like a skeleton with muscles and skin, no cushion or room for error. The way the shadows fall on his grey skin, so sharp and angular, seems wrong. His altered body is trying to fulfil its purpose—strength, agility, stamina. But how can anything function well in a world like this? I can only imagine what he’ll look like when food isn’t a constant worry. Thinking about it makes my heart race.

“So,” I say. “Where is it we’re going?”

“The bridge.”

Vague, but okay. “How many are we meeting?”

He doesn’t look at me and says, distantly, “Three.”

I’m going to get a conversation out of him eventually. I guess what’s the harm? Gotta be tactical about it, though. “Tell me about them.”

He doesn’t want to talk, I can tell, but to his credit he does anyway. “Ashton, Jules, and Cain. Um. Ashton and Jules
might
be okay, but Cain....”

I wait.

His mouth screws up into an unsure frown and he says, “Cain might try to kill you.” He doesn’t give
kill
the expected emphasis. I’m still nothing to him.

“I guess that’s expected. We haven’t exactly been fair to the supersoldiers over the ages.”

“Altered.”

“What?”

He looks down at me sternly. “It’s Altered, not supersoldiers.”

They named themselves. “Ah. No, I like that more, too.”

My reaction seems to take him by surprise, his fists uncurl a little and his shoulders relax.

Survivors who grew up when society was still functioning, they still act like they have something to hide, they don’t wear their emotions. Not like the young kids and teenagers nowadays, they’re brunt and expressive, probably without meaning to. They have no weird societal expectations or standards to cling to. Girls fight till they’re bloody, boys cry without fear of looking weak. They have no time to waste beating around the bush, they can’t afford to worry about stuff like appearances. Not when strangers will kill you and you have to fight every single day. Dev is doing the same thing. His heart’s on his sleeve because no one told him it was wrong. We’re more alike than he thinks, and I hope more than anything that he’ll realize that in the end.

[Dev]

I can’t stop thinking about Alessandra’s dead body with an entry wound in her forehead. Cain is not going to be pleased. He might even turn on me, too. But that would be fair. Because to him,
I’m
the traitor, bringing the enemy past our lines.

Would the humans rally their remaining forces and come after us for killing their leader? It would
still
be all my fault.

The highway fades into smaller roads as Alessandra leads us down the highway exit. We’re still ages from where we need to be. Every step closer feels pointless. We won’t make it in time.

Cain said one day and one night. But who knows, he might have a change of heart and cut out early. But where would they run to? They wouldn’t go back home. Not if my situation was compromised. They wouldn’t... leave me. No. Of course not. At least Jules and Ashton... right?

If I were them, I would have left me long ago.

At the end of our narrow road, lined by buildings, the horizon shimmers. The washed out sky bears no clouds and the land blends into featurelessness by the uniform yellow dust coating it. A dark blemish forms in the mirage on the horizon.

It’s usually so quiet in the middle of the day. Too hot for anything to be up and moving, and animals are smart enough to stay hidden. That can only mean....

“What? Why’d you sto—”

I shush her and close my eyes to listen.

Skittering, breaks in the pattern. Stepping on asphalt.

A heat-distorted form shimmers on the horizon. It flickers in and out of sight with the mirage. Am I imagining it?

A bullet buries itself by our feet. Alessandra jumps and cries out.

She runs for cover down an alley— good idea. Our backs hit the side of a brick building one after the other and she’s already craning her head around the corner.

“Who the hell was that?”

“No idea,” I admit, but a thousand ideas are flying through my head. It’s a trap. Maybe one of Heydrich’s men who survived. They caught one of my friends and got them to talk, they knew where we were going and met us halfway. Vengeful, angry, armed.

“Hey!” Alessandra hisses at me. I snap to. She looks at me like she’s been trying to get my attention for a while. “Got any bright ideas?”

I scowl at her and say, “No. Wait, didn’t you say you—”

But she’s already loading a small handgun, little hands working like nimble insects, unlocking the safety and pulling back to load.

“Give me that.” I snatch it from her and move out of the alley. I’m assuredly a better shot.

She sputters, empty hands clutching air, and says, “Where are you
going
?” She won’t fight me for it. She stays behind the alley. Her uneasy feet shuffle under her like she wants to follow, though.

My feet pound on the hard asphalt and the figure is closer, less of a silhouette now. It’s tall and lanky, more of what I know. He lowers the rifle.

“Hey!” I shout, slowing to a jog and waving my arms.

He approaches me, rolling gait slowing to a stop. His white knuckles grip Cain’s rifle. Sweat beads on his brow.

I smile. A heavy weight lifts away from me just seeing a familiar face. All the shit with the humans, Alessandra, the deal, the uncertainties— fade into nothing. Because he’s safe.

“Hey, Ash.”

6
• unwanted guest

[Dev]

Ashton breathes heavily, though probably not from the run, and stares at me like I’m back from the dead. “Dev?”

Before I can say anything he drops the rifle on the ground and bends down to wrap his arms around me. An aggressive hug. “Good to see you, too,” I choke out, laughing.

Ashton lets out a frustrated sigh and says, “We all thought you were dead!”

I pull away from the embrace and finally get a decent look at him— his face is... well, it’s looked better. A black eye, a cut lip. “What happened to you?”

He touches his puffy eye like he forgot it was there and grins. “Cain wouldn’t let me have his rifle to come look for you, so, you know....”

I grin. “Thanks. That couldn’t have been easy.”

But the moment is dead already. Ashton’s eyes are trained on something behind me, tense and focused. I turn and see Alessandra advancing. Slowly, her empty hands rising.

“Oh, um, I guess I should mention....”

Ashton looks at me suddenly.

“Ash,” I say as Alessandra approaches and Ashton takes a step back, “this is Alessandra.” Her name feels strange on my tongue.

Ashton looks back and forth between me and Alessandra.

“Well, um,” he sputters and gestures to Alessandra, “explain.” He snatches the rifle off the ground in a clumsy grapple.

Alessandra doesn’t take her eyes off Ashton and takes a step forward, sticking her hand out. “You must be Ashton.”

Ashton doesn’t move.

She just smiles. “I don’t bite.”

Please don’t let this end with blood....

Ashton’s eyes dart over to me, and I do my best to not look scared out of my wits. He slowly reaches out and his hand completely envelops her tiny one. Alessandra shakes it firmly, but Ashton jerks his arm away as soon as it’s done. Did I look like this back in that white room? Like a jumpy, timid animal?

“I’m here on behalf of my people,” she begins. “We mean you no harm and only want to talk.”

Ashton’s mind is working a mile a minute.

“Where are the rest...?” she asks half to Ashton and half to me.

Ashton glances at me as if asking permission to tell her. I nod. “Jules and Cain are back at the... rendezvous point. We found all the humans dead, so Cain decided it was safe. We’ve been waiting for you.” A wave of guilt crushes me.

“That was my fault,” Alessandra says. “We took Dev so we could speak with him.”

Ashton bristles slightly at the mention of my name, as if Alessandra is encroaching on our privacy. “About what?”

Even though she’s acting composed, her hands shake at her sides and her eyes hover nervously by Ashton’s feet. She swallows and says, grinning, “About a ticket out of this wasteland.”

Ashton quirks an eyebrow at me.

I just nod. Words fail me.

Ashton rakes his long fingers through his black hair and turns to me. “I don’t believe it,” he says. “This is too weird.”

Alessandra stands quietly: an immovable pillar of confidence in the dusty road. She wouldn’t risk her life like this for a lie. Or is she doing it to gain our trust so it’s easier to turn on us later? But what if she
is
telling the truth? Is the promise of her Ecodome worth the risk of betrayal?

I guess we’ll just have to find out.

“She’s not lying,” I tell Ashton.

Alessandra is watching me, the edge of her mouth up in a tricky smile.
We can handle anything they throw at us. Anything is better than here.

“They can help us.”

[Alessandra]

If I were anyone but myself, I’d be a quivering mess on the ground in a fetal position. The prospect is still tempting.

I had the impulse to ask Ashton’s model number—an E12, right? Probably, but the tip of his left ear looks like it was chopped off a while ago, so it’s impossible to know for sure. And if I ask, I’m as good as dead. Those legs would turn my rib cage inside out with one kick. The topic of Caduceus is still... tender.

I’m not a tall person. Maybe 5’ 3” on a good day. I’m dwarfed by Dev, who I imagine is about as tall as James. But it’s still a bit bizarre, put lightly, to walk next to someone that’s probably seven feet tall. I only come up to the bottom of his ribs. Everything about him is stretched and long. Legs, torso, arms, neck. But still somehow well-proportioned and, I want to kick myself for it, pretty attractive. If you look past the under-fed look, permanent uneasy expression, and long skinny
tail
, that is. (Don’t stare at the tail, Aless. Just don’t.) And his weird feet. Digitigrade, I think is the word for it— animals like dogs and cats that walk on their toes, but have long feet. His ankles almost line up with my knees. The long straight bones laced with thick veins ripple under his skin with every slight movement. His toes are clawed, like a cheetah’s— long, thick, and sharp. And with every movement, every muscle twitch, any smart person could tell you his reflexes are probably pretty catlike, too.

He walks with almost a swagger, his hips slightly following the direction of his step, but not from attitude— I bet his pelvis is shaped differently to accommodate his center of balance, and his built quadriceps. I wonder what it’s like to take a step with your toes first instead of your heel. Always on tip-toe, always ready to spring. It almost seems wrong for him to be wearing
clothes
for how sleek and natural his body looks.

Whoa, that was a creepy thought. Back to the real world, Aless, come on.

I realize the conversation’s reached a lull so I say, “Ashton, can you lead us to the rendezvous point?” Trying to make it sound as friendly as possible.

I’m way in front of our little entourage. They’re keeping me in plain sight. I haven’t been met with this kind of hostility, this kind of caution, in a long time. Heydrich had total control over me, but I was never a
threat
to him. The new arrangement quickens my pulse.

Ashton takes a while to reply. “You’re going the right way.”

Thanks for the directions. At least up front they can’t see me glare.

Ashton: “Tell me what you told Dev earlier.” That could mean a lot of things, but by his tone, he means, ‘How did you convince him to agree to human terms?’

“I’ve told all this to Dev already, so I’ll just give you the quick and dirty version. We’re a group of survivors about fifty-strong living in the remains of my father’s company, Stem Incorporated. About a year ago, a man named Heydrich came around with his thugs and instigated a full-on takeover, taking control of our resources and manpower. But recently, we... well.” How to phrase this.... “He’s gone now. His men, his officers... We finally got rid of them. Heydrich, too.”

“Stop,” the command comes as soon as I close my mouth. I stop and turn around. Dev looks at me curiously, silently asking for elaboration, but Ashton’s brow is furrowed.

“When?”

His curt words bite at me like mosquitoes. I wish he’d relax like he does when he talks with Dev. The way they stand together, they’re like items in a set, less potent when separated.

“Yesterday evening, Heydrich gathered recruits—and forced James and I—to go with him on a mission to the city. Since the scout failed to report back, he assumed you found him and were flushed out. James and I used the opportunity to get Heydrich alone. He’s not a problem anymore. And his men back at the base are all dead, too.” It feels cheap to explain it in such plain language. But how can I portray their years of cruelty in a synopsis? The wounds are too fresh.

Behind me, the soldiers—Altered—just go on walking, processing, apparently not all that bothered that we poisoned and murdered almost fifteen men in one day. It still sits like rocks in my stomach.

Ashton says, “How many men of Heydrich’s went with you?”
Where’s he going with this? “Two.”

Ashton glances at Dev for every little thing. Making sure they’re on the same page, asking for permission, I can’t tell. He looks at me and says reluctantly, “We found the two. But not Heydrich.”

I stop. I can only say, “What?”

He just looks at me, because he knows I heard, but I just—it can’t be.... “But... James confirmed three. They should have all been in the same place.”

Ashton shrugs and looks away, putting his hands in his too-small coat’s pockets. Dev watches me with a blank expression.

So James must have... got them down, done the injections like we planned, but... it didn’t work on Heydrich. Maybe in his haste he missed a vein? Maybe there was a mistake, he broke the vial, tried to kill him another way... it boils down to how much I trust James, in that case.

James wouldn’t lie to me about something this important.

So he’s alone, without resources, followers, or even a skimmer. James did send those back. Heydrich is as good as dead. “We’ll deal with that later,” I say, trying to move on. “What I was getting at is....”

After the tale, Ashton nods sagely. I don’t know I’ve ever been listened to more intently in my life. Ashton keys in on the speaker and nothing can tear him away. I found it unnerving and satisfying at once.

“So I have it straight,” he says after a pregnant pause, “there were two platoons of humans, operating under opposing commanders. Heydrich, the leader of one, invaded and took over the base of the other. It was only until recently that you, the leader of the oppressed, were able to gain the upper hand. Poison. And failed assassination attempts.”

He makes us sound distant, like historical fiction. My nerves feel like bones exposed to the dry desert air. “Yes,” my own biting tone alarms me, “and you glazed over the parts about how we’re trying to help you and your friends start a new life in the northern Ecodome.”

Ashton glances down at Dev, who looks away from both of us. His yellow eyes smolder with dormant thought. Why does the fact that we don’t want to hurt them have such a hard time sinking in?

“Dev.” Ashton’s voice speaks in multitudes of meanings with one simple word.

“Okay,” Dev says. As an afterthought, he says to me, “We’ll be right back.” How courteous. They turn away and move off a few paces, then start talking in hushed voices.

[Dev]

“Absolutely not,” Ashton says.

“Ash, wait a second—”

“No, Dev! I can’t believe I even have to elucidate
this for you. This is a bad idea.”

I stare at him. “Give me more credit than that.”

“I’m trying, but you know you can’t trust her. You can’t trust
any
of them.”

“I know, but—”

“Did you forget about Spec?”

My heart forgets to beat. “Don’t bring him into this.” I thought Ashton would be above bringing up Spec like he’s fodder for an argument. When Ashton was the one that almost killed Cain for Spec’s death.

“I’m not bringing, Dev, they’re directly related. The humans murdered him for no reason.”

“That wasn’t us,” Alessandra interrupts firmly. We both look at her. She’s weirdly commanding for a small-statured human. “That was Heydrich.”

“That’s easy for you to claim,” Ashton says, “but hard to validate.”

She tilts her head and looks at Ashton through her eyelashes like, ‘Are you kidding me?’ She sighs and says, “Look, I know nothing I say is going to prove to you that I’m telling the truth. But think about it this way. If you come with us, and we do double-cross you, you can just kill us. Easy! To make it even— okay, more like one-sided— we’ll issue each of you a firearm for the trip. Okay?”

Ashton snorts and looks away.

The rest of our trip continues in silence. Ashton insisted that we walk behind Alessandra so we could keep an eye on her. I know where he’s coming from, but it seems a little... paranoid. She’s not even armed. We could put her down with our eyes closed. I hope it won’t come to that.

With Alessandra out of earshot, Ashton says, “Alright, Dev. Give me your rebuttal. What is it about her that you trust?”

I breathe the stale air and take a moment to gather myself. Words like trust set me on edge. A lot goes into such a small word. “I think following along with their plan is a logical choice. No, I mean it, don’t look at me like that. Seriously, Ash. What’s the worst that could happen? They take us there and kill us there instead? I mean, what would be the purpose of that? Why wouldn’t they have tried to capture or kill all of us yesterday? It just doesn’t make sense. I was inside their stronghold... or base, or something... and they... well, I didn’t read any hostile intentions, I guess.”