The Host (18 page)

Read The Host Online

Authors: The Host

BOOK: The Host
11.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“We don't like to waste batteries, and most of us know the floor here by heart, but since it's your first time, you can find your way with this.”

Jeb pulled a flashlight from his pocket and held it out. The sight of it reminded me of the moment he'd found me dying in the desert, when he'd checked my eyes and known what I was. I didn't know why the memory made me sad.

“Don't get any crazy ideas about maybe the river taking you out of here or something. Once that water goes underground, it doesn't come back up,” he cautioned me.

Since he seemed to be waiting for some acknowledgment of his warning, I nodded once. I took the flashlight from his hand slowly, being careful not to make any quick movements that might startle him.

He smiled in encouragement.

I followed his directions quickly–the sound of the rushing water was not making my discomfort any easier to bear. It felt very strange to be out of his sight. What if someone had hidden in these caves, guessing I would have to come here eventually? Would Jeb hear the struggle over the cacophony of the rivers?

I shone the flashlight all around the bathing room, looking for any sign of an ambush. The odd flickering shadows it made were not comforting, but I found no substance to my fears. Jeb's tub was more the size of a small swimming pool and black as ink. Under the surface, a person would be invisible as long as they could hold their breath.… I hurried through the slender crack at the back of the room to escape my imaginings. Away from Jeb, I was nearly overwhelmed with panic–I couldn't breathe normally; I could barely hear over the sound of my pulse racing behind my ears. I was more running than walking when I made my way back to the room with the rivers.

To find Jeb standing there, still in the same pose, still alone, was like a balm to my splintered nerves. My breathing and my heartbeat slowed. Why this crazy human should be such a comfort to me, I couldn't understand. I supposed it was like Melanie had said,
desperate times.

“Not too shabby, eh?” he asked, a grin of pride on his face.

I nodded once again and returned the flashlight.

“These caves are a great gift,” he said as we started back toward the dark passageway. “We wouldn't be able to survive in a group like this without them. Magnolia and Sharon were getting along real well–shockingly well–up there in Chicago, but they were pushing their luck hiding two. It's mighty nice to have a community again. Makes me feel downright human.” He took my elbow once more as we climbed the rough stair-case out.

“I'm sorry about the, um, accommodations we've got you in. It was the safest place I could think of. I'm surprised those boys found you as quick as they did.” Jeb sighed. “Well, Kyle gets real… motivated. But I suppose it's all for the best. Might as well get used to how things are going to be. Maybe we can find something more hospitable for you. I'll think on it.… While I'm with you, at least, you don't really have to cram yourself into that little hole. You can sit in the hall with me if you prefer. Though with Jared…” He trailed off.

I listened to his apologetic words in wonder; this was so much more kindness than I'd hoped for, more compassion than I'd thought this species was capable of giving their enemies. I patted the hand on my elbow lightly, hesitantly, trying to convey that I understood and wouldn't cause a problem. I was sure Jared much preferred to have me out of sight.

Jeb had no trouble translating my wordless communication. “That's a good girl,” he said. “We'll figure this all out somehow. Doc can just concentrate on healin' human folks. You're much more interesting alive,
I
think.”

Our bodies were close enough that he was able to feel me tremble.

“Don't worry. Doc's not going to bother you now.”

I couldn't stop shivering. Jeb could only promise me
now.
There was no guarantee that Jared would not decide my secret was more important than protecting Melanie's body. I knew that such a fate would make me wish Ian had succeeded last night. I swallowed, feeling the bruising that seemed to go all the way through my neck to the inside walls of my throat.

You never know how much time you'll have,
Melanie had said so many days ago, when my world was still under control.

Her words echoed in my head as we reentered the big room, the main plaza of Jeb's human community. It was full, like the first night, everyone there to glare at us with eyes that blazed anger and betrayal when they looked at him and murder when they looked at me. I kept my gaze down on the rock under my feet. From the corner of my eye, I could see that Jeb held his gun ready again.

It was only a matter of time, indeed. I could feel it in the atmosphere of hate and fear. Jeb could not protect me long.

It was a relief to scrape back through the narrow crevice, to look forward to the winding black labyrinth and my cramped hiding place; I could hope to be alone there.

Behind me, a furious hissing, like a nest of goaded snakes, echoed in the big cavern. The sound made me wish Jeb would lead me through the labyrinth at a quicker pace.

Jeb chuckled under his breath. He seemed to get stranger the longer I was around him. His sense of humor mystified me as much as his motivations did.

“It gets a bit tedious down here sometimes, you know,” he murmured to me, or to himself.

With Jeb, it was hard to tell. “Maybe when they get over being cheesed off at me, they'll realize they appreciate all the excitement I'm providing.”

Our path through the dark twisted in a serpentine fashion. It didn't feel at all familiar. Perhaps he took a different route to keep me lost. It seemed to take more time than before, but finally I could see the dim blue light of the lamp shining from around the next curve.

I braced myself, wondering if Jared would be there again. If he was, I knew he would be angry.

I was sure he wouldn't approve of Jeb taking me for a field trip, no matter how necessary it might have been.

As soon as we rounded the corner, I could see that there
was
a figure slumped against the wall beside the lamp, casting a long shadow toward us, but it was obviously not Jared. My hand clutched at Jeb's arm, an automatic spasm of fear.

And then I really looked at the waiting figure. It was smaller than me–that was how I'd known it was not Jared–and thin. Small, but also too tall and too wiry. Even in the dim light of the blue lamp, I could see that his skin was dyed to a deep brown by the sun, and that his silky black hair now fell unkempt past his chin.

My knees buckled.

My hand, grasping Jeb's arm in panic, held on for support.

“Well, for Pete's sake!” Jeb exclaimed, obviously irritated. “Can't nobody keep a secret around this place for more'n twenty-four hours? Gol' durn, this burns me up! Bunch of gossipmongers…” He trailed off into a grumble.

I didn't even try to understand the words Jeb was saying; I was locked in the fiercest battle of my life–of every life I'd ever lived.

I could feel Melanie in each cell of my body. My nerve endings tingled in recognition of her familiar presence. My muscles twitched in anticipation of her direction. My lips trembled, trying to open. I leaned forward toward the boy in the hall, my body reaching because my arms would not.

Melanie had learned many things the few times I'd ceded or lost my command to her, and I truly had to struggle against her–so hard that fresh sweat beaded on my brow. But I was not dying in the desert now. Nor was I weak and dizzy and taken off guard by the appearance of someone I'd given up for lost; I'd known this moment might come. My body was resilient, quick to heal–I was strong again. The strength of my body gave strength to my control, to my determination.

I drove her from my limbs, chased her from every hold she'd found, thrust her back into the recesses of my mind, and chained her there.

Her surrender was sudden and total.
Aaah,
she sighed, and it was almost a moan of pain.

I felt strangely guilty as soon as I'd won.

I'd already known that she was more to me than a resistant host who made life unnecessarily difficult. We'd become companions, even confidantes during our past weeks together–ever since the Seeker had united us against a common enemy. In the desert, with Kyle's knife over my head, I'd been glad that if I
had
to die I would not be the one to kill Melanie; even then, she was more than a body to me. But now it seemed like something beyond that. I regretted causing her pain.

It was necessary, though, and she didn't seem to grasp that. Any word we said wrong, any poorly considered action would mean a quick execution. Her reactions were too wild and emotional. She would get us into trouble.

You have to trust me now,
I told her.
I'm just trying to keep us alive. I know you don't want to
believe your humans could hurt us…

But it's Jamie,
she whispered. She yearned for the boy with an emotion so strong that it weakened my knees again.

I tried to look at him impartially–this sullen-faced teenager slumped against the tunnel wall with his arms folded tightly across his chest. I tried to see him as a stranger and plan my response, or lack of response, accordingly. I tried, but I failed. He was Jamie, he was beautiful, and my arms–mine, not Melanie's–longed to hold him. Tears filled my eyes and trickled down my face. I could only hope they were invisible in the dim light.

“Jeb,” Jamie said–a gruff greeting. His eyes passed swiftly over me and away.

His voice was so deep! Could he really be so old? I realized with a double pang of guilt that I'd just missed his fourteenth birthday. Melanie showed me the day, and I saw that it was the same day as the first dream with Jamie. She'd struggled so hard all through the waking hours to keep her pain to herself, to cloud her memories in order to protect the boy, that he'd come out in her dream. And I'd e-mailed the Seeker.

I shuddered now in disbelief that I'd ever been so callous.

“Whatcha doing here, kid?” Jeb demanded.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Jamie demanded back.

Jeb went silent.

“Was that Jared's idea?” Jamie pressed.

Jeb sighed. “Okay, so you know. What good does that do you, eh? We only wanted to –”

“To protect me?” he interrupted, surly.

When did he get so bitter? Was it my fault? Of course it was.

Melanie began sobbing in my head. It was distracting, loud–it made Jeb and Jamie's voices sound farther away.

“Fine, Jamie. So you don't need protecting. What do you want?” This quick capitulation seemed to throw Jamie off. His eyes darted between Jeb's face and mine while he struggled to come up with a request.

“I–I want to talk with her… with it,” he finally said. His voice was higher when he was unsure.

“She doesn't say much,” Jeb told him, “but you're welcome to try, kid.” Jeb pried my fingers off his arm. When he was free, he turned his back to the nearest wall, leaning into it as he eased himself to the floor. He settled in there, fidgeting until he found a comfortable position. The gun stayed balanced in the cradle of his lap. Jeb's head lolled back against the wall, and his eyes closed. In seconds, he looked like he was asleep.

I stood where he'd left me, trying to keep my eyes off Jamie's face and failing.

Jamie was surprised again by Jeb's easy acquiescence. He watched the old man recline on the floor with wide eyes that made him look younger. After a few minutes of perfect stillness from Jeb, Jamie looked back up at me, and his eyes tightened.

The way he stared at me–angry, trying hard to be brave and grown-up, but also showing the fear and pain so clearly in his dark eyes–had Melanie sobbing louder and my knees shaking.

Rather than take a chance with another collapse, I moved slowly to the tunnel wall across from Jeb and slid down to the floor. I curled up around my bent legs, trying to be as small as possible.

Jamie watched me with cautious eyes and then took four slow steps forward until he stood over me. His glance flitted to Jeb, who hadn't moved or opened his eyes, and then Jamie knelt down at my side. His face was suddenly intense, and it made him look more adult than any expression yet. My heart throbbed for the sad man in the little boy's face.

“You're not Melanie,” he said in a low voice.

It was harder not to speak to him because
I
was the one who wanted to speak. Instead, after a brief hesitation, I shook my head.

“You're inside her body, though.”

Another pause, and I nodded.

“What happened to your… to her face?”

I shrugged. I didn't know what my face looked like, but I could imagine.

“Who did this to you?” he pressed. With a hesitant finger, he almost touched the side of my neck. I held still, feeling no urge to cringe away from
this
hand.

“Aunt Maggie, Jared, and Ian,” Jeb listed off in a bored voice. We both jumped at the sound.

Jeb hadn't moved, and his eyes were still closed. He looked so peaceful, as if he had answered Jamie's question in his sleep.

Jamie waited for a moment, then turned back to me with the same intense expression.

“You're not Melanie, but you know all her memories and stuff, right?” I nodded again.

“Do you know who I am?”

I tried to swallow the words, but they slipped through my lips. “You're Jamie.” I couldn't help how my voice wrapped around the name like a caress.

He blinked, startled that I had broken my silence. Then he nodded. “Right,” he whispered back.

We both looked at Jeb, who remained still, and back at each other.

“Then you remember what happened to her?” he asked.

I winced, and then nodded slowly.

“I want to know,” he whispered.

I shook my head.

“I want to know,” Jamie repeated. His lips trembled. “I'm not a kid. Tell me.”

“It's not… pleasant,” I breathed, unable to stop myself. It was very hard to deny this boy what he wanted.

His straight black eyebrows pulled together and up in the middle over his wide eyes. “Please,” he whispered.

I glanced at Jeb. I thought that maybe he was peeking from between his lashes now, but I couldn't be sure.

Other books

The Mission by Fiona Palmer
Love and Secrets by Brennan, Mary
The Stone Warriors: Damian by D. B. Reynolds
The Wish List by Jane Costello
Souvenir by Therese Fowler
Drive by James Sallis
Love LockDown by A.T. Smith
Not Just a Witch by Eva Ibbotson