Shiver (3 page)

Knox stepped into the jeans and slipped the shirt on over his head, and winced with every move. Between the vampire’s attack, fleeing the arena, and being airborne, everything hurt. He finished up with the boots that miraculously fit him a lot better than he could have hoped.
 

Knox was about to leave the barn when he remembered the only valuable thing he had left. He yanked the small bottle filled with green fluid from the pocket of his discarded jeans and stuck it into his new pair.

The dog sat in the corner, watching and waiting. When Knox headed for the doorway, the dog raced out in front of him, then glanced over its furry shoulder to make sure Knox followed close behind.

Stumbling out of the stable, Knox was glad for the dark sky above. The chill of the night seeped into his bones but didn’t make him cold. Walking made his legs ache and feel as if he hadn’t used them for weeks. He pushed himself to keep going because getting off this rock before anyone reeled him back into slavery was the only thing that mattered.

He noticed the entrance to the arena had been completely sealed by rubble. The air was thick with embers, fumes and smoke. He gagged, almost throwing up because he suddenly felt queasy and desperately craved something to eat. But who was going to feed a man without a single credit on him?

The farther he walked into these stone alleyways, the more he realized no one from the arena would likely track him now. Anyone who’d survived had to be either long gone or in hiding.

The dog barked up ahead, urging him to follow.

“Hey, I don’t need you trailing me.” As stupid as the comment sounded, he didn’t need a dog competing for food. He might have been an animal lover once, but after what he’d seen inside the arena he preferred to keep his distance. Some creatures were more than met the eye and he didn’t need any more trouble. Even if a Recast—one that had come out of nowhere—saved his life, he preferred to stay away from animals at the moment.
 

He had to shake this dog and get as far away from the Clash Arena as he could.

Moving past the canine, Knox was relieved to find himself in the thick of a market. Amongst the crowd, he could blend in and go unnoticed.
 

Unfortunately, the endless chaos of beating drums wasn’t easy to ignore.

He’d never ventured into these streets, but finding so many market stalls still crowded at this time of night would help him mingle. If none of these people were bothered by the putrid smell wafting from the arena, they wouldn’t care about some random guy. Everyone had something to do and someplace to be.

Their disinterest confirmed what the man in the stables had told him—he must have been out for days. Otherwise, why else would the population appear unmoved and getting on with their lives? Chaos and uncertainty should have reigned.

Shoving past several stalls while keeping his eyes downcast, he decided to take a left turn, followed by a right. Until he realized he was following the damn dog.
What the hell am I doing?

When the canine suddenly paused and peered over its shoulder, Knox found they were standing in the middle of a deserted length of stalls.

“Where did you lead me to, huh?” Though the real question was—why had
he
followed the dog?

The canine strutted ahead at a leisurely pace, then stopped at one of the unattended stalls. Knox strolled past, glancing at the colorful fabrics and beaded curtains. Maybe
now
he could shake the damn mutt.

“I can read your palm,” someone called from the stall behind him.

Knox jumped, positive there’d been no one there a moment ago. Yet, when he turned, a crooked, old lady sat behind a small, round table. The mutt lounged near her feet as she patted its back absently with a wrinkly hand.

“Is that your dog?”

The old woman shrugged and the scruffy wig on top of her head shifted. “Sensor is no one’s dog. He’s free to go where he wants. Don’t you think that’s a luxury we sometimes take for granted?”

The way she narrowed her beady eyes at Knox made him uneasy. Almost as if she knew exactly who he was, and where he’d stumbled from. She made him feel strange. A shiver crawled down his spine as if someone had stepped over his grave, which reminded him about the vampire’s bite.
 

He’d been unconscious for days so the vampiric toxin had to have taken hold of him, which explained why he could so easily pick out the scent of blood everywhere. And the drumbeats…were heartbeats.

His head spun at the thought, but Knox had to accept his fate.

“I can read your palm,” the woman said.

“No thanks.”

“What about your eye or foot—”

“I don’t think so.” He shook his head and was about to turn away when the coot spoke again.

“How about your heart, then? I can read your heart.” The old woman’s smile revealed a row of tiny, pointy teeth. “It looks like you need some guidance, and I can hear your sluggish heart from here. I can help you. I know what you’re becoming.”

Her creepy tone, coupled with the suffocating isolation in this part of the market, made him wonder if this woman’s trade was of the preternatural kind. He wasn’t the type who believed in hocus-pocus but he’d seen some weird shit in the dungeons. Not to mention he’d been infected by a vampire.

“I can help you.”

“I doubt that very much.”

“I
know
I can help you,” she insisted.
 

“What I really need is something to eat.” It was worth a shot because his stomach felt hollow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten.

Her dark gaze went to his throat and he pressed his fingers against what were now two deep holes on the side of his neck.
 

“I can offer you sustenance,” the woman said with a smile. “For a price, of course.”

“I don’t have any credits.”

“I would like to read your heart so much—
that
would be the price.”
 

This woman was creepy but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Starvation was making his stomach cramp. His life was doomed anyway. He hesitated for a moment. “So if I let you read my
heart
, you’ll give me food?” His stomach rumbled at the mere mention.

She nodded. “But I will have to go first.”

He was sick of wasting time, so he nodded when she motioned to the small chair across from her. As he sat down, he peered at the crystal ball between them and watched as it somehow projected his image along the shiny surface. He looked away and focused on the woman instead.

The old coot was dressed in what looked like a one-piece, silver spacesuit that hung baggy off her bony frame. The brown wig twitched, revealing a single, blinking, yellow eye with a vertical pupil, staring right at him.

She leaned over and placed her left, wrinkly palm over his chest, right above his heart. As soon as she did, he felt warmth flow through him and forgot about the creepy wig. Her smile disappeared, replaced by pursed lips that caused the wrinkles on her lined face to appear deeply etched. The humor faded from her twinkling eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, swallowing his uncertainty. What did she feel?

“It’s just as I suspected. You have a sick heart.” She closed her eyes for just a moment. “And it will stop beating soon.”

“Nah, I don’t think so.” This woman had no idea what was going on with him. Vampirism didn’t equal a sick heart.

“When you find something to live for, your heart will stop beating for a short time. And as soon as it beats again, you will be a blood-getter.” Her dark eyes shone brighter. “That’s how the change works.”

“How the hell—”

“Becoming a blood-getter doesn’t mean death, but finding a purpose makes all the difference in your new life.”

He scoffed at her words. He doubted anything would ever strike any sort of passion within him again. But he was here for only one thing. “Okay. Now, where’s my sustenance?”

Her features darkened and the dog barked. “Don’t you want to know more about your
condition?
You might be facing a long life, but there’s much you don’t know. There are different paths you can take.”

“Listen, lady, I just want something to eat—”

“If all your focus is on feeding, then you’re already doomed.”

“I haven’t eaten for days.”

She hesitated for a long moment, too long, before finally exhaling and meeting his gaze. “Fair is fair, I suppose.” She removed her hand from his chest a little reluctantly. Reaching behind her, she grabbed a silver goblet from a small shelf and poured liquid into it from a colored flask. “Here you go.”

Knox took it from her and as his mouth filled with liquid, he gagged so violently he leaned to the side and spat it out. “What the fuck is this?” He wiped his mouth and coughed a few times, then dumped the goblet beside the crystal ball. The glass turned to red and was still reflecting his warped and elongated face.

“Blood,” she answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“
Blood?
I’m not a bloodsucker yet. I asked you for food.”

“You expected herbal tea, perhaps?”

“I expected a protein drink, at least.”

“I delivered the sustenance you need.”

“Did you just con me, old woman?”

Her eyes flashed amber before returning to brown. “I am a woman of my word, so don’t you dare accuse me otherwise. The parasitic nature will soon overcome you. When the first drop of fresh blood hits your stomach and spreads throughout your body, the change will begin. The sooner you get your system going, the better. I was trying to help you along.”

“Good thing I didn’t drink that blood—”

“Just remember, you have a choice. Don’t let the hunger dictate who you are. Remain who you always were, Eniell Knox.” Her dark eyes flickered to amber again. The wig-thing sitting on her head opened its eye, scrutinizing him as much as the old woman. “You don’t have to become a coldblooded parasite.”

Unable to bear this bizarre situation, Knox pushed the rickety, wooden chair back and stood. They hadn’t exchanged names, so how the hell did she know who he was? Actually, the only name mentioned during their conversation was the dog’s.

“Remember who you are.” Her words chased him up the aisle as he made his way from stall to stall, close to collapse. “You have a good heart, Knox. Let yourself find passion or you will be lost to the bloodlust.” Her voice sounded as if it were inside his ears.

He peered over his shoulder and saw her sitting at the creepy, colorful stall staring at him. But when he turned back and took a step, he stopped suddenly. She stood directly in his path, the top of her wig at eye level. How the hell could she be in two places at once? He checked again and found her sitting at her stall, while simultaneously standing in front of him.

What the hell did she put in that drink?

“Don’t lose yourself, Knox,” she whispered, touching the back of his hand.

Knox’s skin crawled as he jerked back his hand and walked right through her. He didn’t look back this time, determined to get out of this mess and hitch a ride off this rock as soon as possible.

At least he’d managed to ditch the dog.

After several hours of asking around the main part of the market, he still hadn’t found a space port or docking station anywhere.

He wasn’t going to give up and decided to try again when he spotted a man with a beaming, golden-toothed smile. This stall was covered with electronic devices, and the curtain behind was constantly changing color. “Excuse me. I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction…”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m looking for the closest port. I need to get—”

“We don’t have one of those around here,” the man said with a shake of his head. This seemed to be the most common response.

Knox nodded and was about to move on when the man grabbed a hold of his forearm. He turned to look him in the eye.

“There have been whispers during the last few days,” the man said, pausing long enough to peer over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “They say that since the arena went down, we are free to not only leave Clash, but can actually leave Fray. It’s a good turn of events, being able to leave the planet after so many Maine-forced restrictions.” He smiled. “Anyway, if you go to the town of Grit, you might find someone who can help you.”

“How do I get there?”

“Just leave the market and keep walking northwest. It’s not too far from here. You can’t miss it. Visit
Mike’s
.
He’ll be able to help you find your way.”

“Thank you, mate. I appreciate it.”

The man smiled, almost blinding him with all that toothy gold. “I’m sorry about what happened to you.”

Knox rolled his shoulders, nodded, and walked away. Just how many people had been watching the live streaming of his fight with the bloodsucker? It could be paranoia, but it seemed as if everyone knew what had happened and kept giving him strange, pitying glances. He turned his back on the market and avoided making eye contact with anyone. Instead, he found himself concentrating on trivial details, like wondering where the man had gotten so much gold that he could wear it on his teeth.