Chapter 20 BEE
TWENTY
BEE
I trudge along roads and avenues for so long that I wind up on narrow city streets—and realise I’m lost.
Somewhere along the way, I got turned around, and my escape led me deeper into the city blocks.
I don’t know how long I’ve been running now, but the burn that’s shredding the muscles of my thighs, and the ache searing up my chest to my throat, those have me slowing down to a stagger.
I need to find a landmark or a street sign, something I can use to figure out where I am on the map.
I’m just staggering around blind.
Lost in a wasteland of cars, tripping over toppled strollers and dropped bags, my boots crunching on snow and broken glass and littered pamphlets.
My scent is dragging all over.
I need to think, I need to get out of the open, mask my scent, I need to link with Tess, and get far from here.
I remember Dare.
I remember what he told me that one night, when I asked what he does for a living, and he simply said, ‘I hunt.’
And now he’s here, in this world—but with his unit. That should ease me a little.
From what I’ve seen, and what I know of the litalf warriors, the dokkalves won’t willingly wander from their units. That is desertion.
So I doubt Dare follows me. I doubt he is hunting my scent through the city.
Still, there is that… niggle in me. It’s faint. A barely-there scratch of a fingernail along the grooves of my brain. It’s more than a what if… but less than an absolute.
And it’s enough to fuel me with the instinct to flee, and it pushes me through the aches and pains in my legs, and I just keep on going, trekking through the snowy streets—because what if I do stop, and Dare is following me?
I shudder to entertain that possibility.
My boots stop on the road.
The snow reaches up to my ankles then settles around my sudden stillness—and I stare ahead into the darkness stretched by the nightlights, and I go blank at the thought of Gary.
I left him behind, sure.
But I might have seriously messed up with that. With any other dark warrior, it’s a non-factor, but Dare?
If Dare chooses to hunt me, to chase me… then I have left behind a talking flesh-bag of knowledge for him to find.
Gary might talk.
If Dare finds him, if he asks questions, then he might learn all about me, the hospital, the group…
Tess.
My heart slingshots into my throat.
A wave of nausea strikes me like a blow to the gut, and in a flurried breath, I’m hiking my way through the ankle-deep snow to the buried sidewalk.
I press my shoulder into the stone wall of a grocery store, glass windows long gone, and I climb inside.
Unlooping the CB radio from my belt, I stagger over the broken glass lining the floors of the grocery store.
The flick of my thumb on the button ignites static from the radio. I give the signal that I’m here, that I can talk, and as I wait for her response, I sludge through the wet, slushy aisles, searching for bleach.
I find the shelves of cleaning products.
My eyes scan along bottles of window cleaner, drain cleaner, shower cleaner—
The static pauses.
Tesni’s voice is a trembled whisper, “Bee?”
I lift the radio to my cold lips. “I’m here.”
There’s silence for a mere moment, then a gush of her strangled voice. “I thought… Gary came back without you—I thought…”
My gaze snags over the bottles of bleach, a frown, then, “Gary? He’s there? At the hospital?”
“He got back an hour ago, said he woke up to the fire in the street and you were gone… and he bolted outta there.”
My cheeks swell around a long, drawn-out huff.
“Did you get out ok?” The flat base of her voice borders on stern. “Bee, where are you?”
My shoulders deflate with a breath.
I consider the bottom shelf of the cleaning supplies, bottles of bleach knocked over, only a few, but dented and broken by the toppled metal of another shelf, and a fallen trolley.
Great.
That’s just fucking great.
I tighten my grip on the radio.
My lashes shut on a sickly sensation that rolls through my stomach. Disappointment ebbing at my insides with prickles of anxiety, burning my chest with a flurry panic.
Without bleach, Dare might find me if he is looking for me. I don’t know if he is. I only know that he is unpredictable.
And frankly, I’m afraid of the what if.
I speak into the CB, “Listen, Tess. I saw someone I know. Dare. A dark fae… and he recognised me, I’m sure of it.”
Silence is the answer from the other side, beyond the crackle of static. I can picture her, tense, hidden in a closet or a room, door shut firm, and hunched over the secrets I’m spilling over radio frequencies.
“It might be ok,” I go on, “and he might have stayed with his unit. But maybe not. If he has followed me… It isn’t good. We need to be prepared.”
The static returns through the CB for only a heartbeat before, “Hummus?”
My smile curves.
Not my idea to nickname Operation Dip ‘hummus’. That’s all Tesni. And I love her for it.
My answer is firm, slicked with a fatigued smile. “Hummus.”
“Ok.” No hesitation. “Where are you?”
“I’m in the city, in a grocery store—but I don’t know where exactly. Look, I need to find bleach and figure out where I am on the map. I’ll check back in with you soon. But get ready, ok?”
“Yeah. I’ll be ready.”
I hesitate. I ask because I must. “You won’t forget Emily?”
Static comes for a beat. “How could I?”
My smile is wry.
Tesni isn’t the most likeable woman around. Never has been. But I loved her the moment I met her at our house-share in London, lifetimes ago.
I saw her for what she was.
Tesni doesn’t have much patience for people or anything, really. Her grumpiness is that of an old Englishman’s. Her pessimism is perpetual.
Someone who doesn’t know her might see a stone woman, fearless in this world. But I see that the stone is a mere glass mask, cracked, and beneath the surface is fear.
Tesni is my absolute priority.
But Emily has grown on me since quarantine. She feels like one of us.
The thought of leaving her behind, it doesn’t come as easily to me as it does Tesni.
So I confirm, “You’ll get her out?”
The pause is thick.
I can just imagine her, chewing back venomous words she itches to lash at me, impatience rising through her, but she takes that moment to steel herself, as she always does with me.
Then, “I’ll get her out.”
“Wait for my signal.”
With that, I turn off the radio on my end.
Tesni will keep hers on.
I return to the road and walk, and walk, searching for another grocery store, another place to grab bleach, another place to hide out for a moment while I pause to check the map.
The muscles and bones of my arm are weeping.
Holding up the bracelet of nightlights to illuminate my path is getting to me. But I keep my arm upright, sweeping my gaze around the street signs I pass along the way—
And I stop.
My boots take root in the snow.
One arm outstretched in front of me, the glow of the nightlight wisps over the nose of a car. Snow is packed onto the bonnet… but so is a set of boots, not unlike mine.
I lift my stare up a pair of legs, crouched, to a woman’s face, all sharp features and lowered lashes. In her clasped hands is a pistol, lazily aimed at me.
I part my lips, a plan swift to form in my mind.
I’ll tell her the enemy is coming, that we need to get out of the street, hide, mask our scents with bleach, and I can give her enough panic that she’ll believe me, and lower that fucking gun.
But all that comes from me is a raspy breath when the cold kiss of a metal blade touches my neck.
This woman is not alone.
Someone else has snuck up behind me—and holds a knife to my throat.
Fuck.
I seriously don’t have time for this.