Chapter 4 #2
“No.” I didn’t dare look at any of them, willing my lies to be steady and convincing.
“So after the Reapers fell, you traveled to Berk by yourself?” Nemo spoke up.
I hesitated, panicking a little, but Mac, of all people, saved me.
“Berk is where we found you,” he said. I glanced at him, but his expression was stony.
“I didn’t go into the town. The mercs found me in the woods.”
I hadn’t known the name of the town, but I’d seen the mercs pouring in and out like worker ants, so I’d elected to stay far away. Not that it mattered. I’d ended up there anyway.
“So why did Wrangler have you locked up in his safe?” Madame pushed.
I hesitated again, my gut twisting. I didn’t have to lie about this. “I don’t know. They knew who I was. I guess…I guess one of the Reapers must’ve talked.”
“Do we know who was coming to collect?” the old man asked Madame.
Madame frowned. “No.”
“Wrangler doesn’t know who took her,” Mac said, his voice flat. “They didn’t know Exo. They’ll figure it out eventually, but we have some time.”
“Wrangler knows better than to make a move against me.” Madame smiled, sending a shiver down my spine.
I tried not to panic as my mind whirled.
Someone had been looking for me. It could’ve been a Reaper.
Gods, I prayed it was a Reaper. I’d even prefer it to be Vulture coming for revenge.
I couldn’t begin to entertain the idea of it being someone else.
Not without totally falling apart. Under the table, my hands twitched anxiously.
“If Vulture is alive, he’d be looking for me,” I said, unable to keep my voice from shaking.
“The Reapers are broken,” Zana sneered. “Even if it is Vulture, they’ve got maybe a dozen people left in one piece. I doubt he’d be a real threat.”
Nemo watched me. I tried to school my expression into something neutral.
“There’s always the possibility that a Reaper used their knowledge of Bones’s powers to join a different gang,” he said. “The Voiceless were near New Salt. So were the Crows.”
The blood rushed from my face. The Voiceless were a fanatic religious group who devoted themselves to the seven gods who rose from the ashes of the old world.
The prophets had their lips stitched crudely shut with thick black thread so they could only speak to the gods or some shit.
How they communicated or ate with their mouths sewn shut, I had no idea.
I’d first seen them shortly after joining the Reapers, passing through one of the smaller desert holds.
I was no stranger to religious men using their appearance to intimidate, but I had nightmares about those stitched lips and black empty eyes for weeks.
As far as I could tell, most people had no idea Juck had once belonged to the Voiceless.
The Crows were a rival gang to the Reapers. Their leader, a woman named Seven, had hated Juck. If one of the Reapers had joined the Crows, Seven would be delighted to track me down and take me for herself solely to spite Juck’s ghost. Neither option would be good, but the Voiceless scared me more.
“The Reapers were a few hours south of Pokey Junction.” Madame leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Never seen them so far north. Where was Juck headed?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Nemo tried to speak, but Madame held up a hand. “You don’t know?”
My face heated. “He was meetin’ with someone. That’s all I know.”
She stared at me. The silence stretched, and sweat beaded on my forehead. She didn’t believe me. If she thought I was lying, would she strap me into that chair and carve me up?
“He was lookin’ for more powered people,” I blurted shakily.
Madame smiled. “Was he now?”
Only Vulture and I knew the real reason Juck had been traveling farther and farther outside of his regular territories—the ones where he had immunity. He’d been chasing stories of miracles and unexplainable things, but that’s all they’d ever turned out to be—stories.
“Are there more powered people?” Nemo asked, a line appearing between his eyes.
“Not that I’ve seen.” Be calm. Breathe.
“You were born with this power?” Zana asked.
“As far as I know,” I answered.
“How did you figure it out?” Nemo sounded genuinely interested, but my stomach plummeted.
“I found an injured dog and when I picked it up, its wounds healed.” My voice shook, and I hoped no one noticed.
“Fascinating,” Nemo murmured.
A short silence fell where I prayed no one would ask more questions about my past.
“I assume Mac gave you all the details about your new job?” Madame asked, as though I had any say in this.
I nodded.
“Good. Mac, have your informant keep an eye out for who comes looking,” Madame added. “I want to stay ahead of this, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Mac said.
“I want around-the-clock guard on her,” Madame commanded. “We don’t want our precious treasure to get lost.”
I stared at the table, but that must have been our dismissal, because Trey pulled me out of the chair.
Mac followed and the three of us left the room.
Even in the hot sun, I shivered. I let Trey tow me along by the arm, focused on trying to keep the dark, awful memories from clawing their way out.
Before I knew it, we’d arrived at the clinic.
Trey and Mac conversed in low voices, and I stood where they left me at the metal exam table, staring down at it without seeing it.
It couldn’t have been him.
It couldn’t.
I hadn’t heard a whisper of him in a long time now. I was sure I’d shaken him off.
“Bones.”
Startled, I looked up to see Mac glaring at me. “Is there someone else looking for you?” he asked sharply.
“I don’t know.” My voice shook.
Mac stalked around the table toward me, and I wanted to hold my ground, but I couldn’t help taking a step back.
“I meant what I said before,” he said in a dangerous voice. “I’m not risking any more of my people for you. So if I find out you’re lying…”
An icy numbness filled me.
“You’ll what?” I asked with none of my earlier bite. “Burn another letter into my skin?”
Horror flashed through his eyes. “No,” he said harshly. “I’m not Juck.”
I turned away, my throat aching from suppressing the tears that begged for release. I couldn’t figure out why they all kept acting so shocked at Juck’s cruelty. As far as I’d seen, Juck acted the same as most people with any bit of power. Madame sure as hell wasn’t any different.
“Bones,” Trey said, “it’s not gonna be like that—”
“Get out,” I interrupted as harshly as possible. I did not want to cry in front of them, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold myself together.
Trey stepped toward me, but Mac halted him.
“Griz is outside if you need anything,” Mac said as they left.
I climbed up to the loft and folded myself into the darkest corner. I hugged my legs and let go of everything fighting to escape, crying as silently as possible until my head pounded.
Survive, Wolf said.
Why? I wanted to scream at him. What is the godsdamned point?