Chapter 5
She’d done this before. Not without sustaining an injury or two, but what did that matter?
The outward markings of old wounds on her skin were healed; the scars within, not so much. Killing was not at the top of her list of things to do, but her people came first.
Always first.
And Donald here was standing in her way of protecting them.
She rolled her head as she stretched her muscles, then shook her arms in hopes of loosening her tendons, tight from sleeping like a pretzel on the bus.
She could take him.Donald was large, but he would most likely be slow. As she watched him prepare to fight, she noticed he limped on his left leg. She could work with that.
Now all she had to do was concentrate, and based on the looks Krieger was giving her, that was going to be downright hard. Don’t look at him ...
Luke was keeping Krieger at bay with a strong hand on his shoulder and a stern tone in his voice. Explaining how things worked around here to a newbie was no easy task. After all, it was pretty messed up.
It was eat or be eaten. Kill or be killed. The animal kingdom had spilled into their lives, leaving them no other choice but to adapt.
And adapt she had.
She just had to remember the steps to this particular dance—the moves that won her the title of keeping her life for another day, and the honor of providing for her people. Forget about respect, this was about survival.
She had the supplies this lowlife needed in order to keep living, but she wouldn’t give them up. Not willingly.
Tough luck, Donald.
Donald moved to the center of the group and waved her forward.
Focus. Focus. Focus. Don’t think about—
Before she could finish her thought, Krieger shoved Luke out of the way and ran in her direction. She sighed. The fact that she saw him was proof she wasn’t concentrating on the fight before her.
Don’t look at him. Whatever happens, don’t look at him.
She turned her back on him, determined to pay attention to the fight before her. But he took hold of her arm, and with a force she wasn’t expecting, he turned her around to face him.
His grip was firm, anger and fear swirled in his eyes. “You’re not going out there.”
For a moment, she basked in his concern and the husky vibrato in his voice and the way his thumb absentmindedly caressed her arm.She even let the word sweet form in her brain. Her crew, so used to this type of situation, thought little of her safety, yet his anxiety was refreshing. But then the reality of what he was doing sank in. His words were not a question—he was demanding she not go out there. Who did he think he was?
He was here as a soldier. Another guy that took orders, from her no less, not gave them.
Over his mounding shoulders, she saw that her crew was watching. And Donald’s men were watching. Donald himself was eyeing her with a suspicious gleam in his eye.
She yanked her arm from his grasp and narrowed her eyes on him. The anger took hold in her gut as her blood rushed through her veins, fueling her adrenaline for the coming battle.
“Lock it up. This is not a debate. Luke, make sure he doesn’t interrupt this fight... no matter what happens.”
“Yes, Eva.” Luke moved to Krieger and tried to haul him back to the group, but he shook Luke off.
She turned back to the fight but felt the brush of his hand against hers. Her gaze held steady as he whispered, “Just be careful.”
She couldn’t stop herself from giving him a short nod in response. She wanted to answer him, let him know she appreciated his concern... on some level.
Behind closed doors—absolutely. In the privacy of the woods—of course. But not on the doorstep of a death match, in front of all these men. This was not the time or the place.
She stepped away from Krieger and motioned for Donald to come forward. The men formed a circle behind them, per tradition, and began shouting. The smell of wood rot and the reek of the men surrounded her as she ready her stance.
Someone yelled for blood while another screamed for a quick death. She wasn’t really in the mood to drag this out; the latter may get their way. The Others, well, she’d let her crew handle them if they became unruly.
Was today a quick death kind of day... maybe, but how?
A jab to the heart or a slice to the neck. Decisions, decisions.
No guns were allowed in this type of match, but she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was only one real rule in his game, and that was there weren’t any.
Sizing her up, he circled her and opened his arms wide, his grin turning into a snarl as his feet moved with a telling rhythm.
Watch the eyes... they’ll let you know when an attack is imminent. How many times had her father said those words to her? Her father, conversation, marriage.
Anger filled her then, and she got lost in her thoughts. Her father had suggested she marry their sworn enemy. This was all the repercussions of the apocalypse. Mother Earth, what lengths would she have to go to preserve the land that kept her and the people of Everwood alive? What would she have to sacrifice? A feeling of dread settled in her gut as she averted her eyes from the threat before her. Mother, she was distracted—
In that moment, Donald took advantage of her preoccupied mind and tackled her to the ground. He straddled her waist and belted her in the head. Blinding, hot pain branded the side of her face as spots filled her vision, but then the voices of her crew registered.
Krieger’s voice stood out among them. “Come on, Eva!”
He was cheering her on, supporting her in this battle he hadn’t wanted her to fight.
She blinked hard, trying to clear her vision. Donald was winding up for another hit to her head, but this time she would be ready. She threw her arm up to block his swing, and with quick movements, she took hold of his wrist and bent the palm backward with all her strength. His back arched as the pain registered.
The lapse in his concentration was all she needed. She rolled on her side, taking his weight with her and using it as an advantage as he fell onto his stomach and his face met dirt. A hard jerk on his wrist forced his arm into an awkward angle just above his head.
Eva stood and hovered over him, applying more pressure to his wrist. His scream ricocheted off the buildings.
The men had gone silent, but she refused to take her eyes off Donald. If he moved, if he even blinked the wrong way, she’d force her weight onto his bones and snap the sucker in two.
She leaned in close to his ear as her knee rested on the middle of his back. “Listen carefully. I will give you one chance. And one chance only. Leave now and forget you ever saw us. Don’t, and I’ll finish what I started.”
“Go to hell,” he spit between heaving breaths.
“Wrong answer.” She applied more pressure to his arm, but she didn’t stop at the sound of his screams. No, she waited to hear the crack of his bone.
Seconds passed as her patience grew thin. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a screamer. She needed him to hear her, but conversation was a no-go with him wailing like a child.
She sighed. “Let’s try that again, shall we? Leave, or I will force your jagged broken bone through your dirty skin.” Dead silence followed. “I smell infection—”
“Okay!”
The corners of her lips twitched. “Good. So, here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to stand up and move to your men. Then you’re going to explain to them that you value your life over whatever we might have in our packs. That’s when you and I part ways and never see each other again. Are we clear?”
The side of his cheek rubbed against the soft mud of the ground as he nodded. She eased off him, taking his pathetic excuse for a wrist with her. After he’d straightened, she shoved him in the direction of his men.
She felt the eyes of everyone watching her, their thoughts almost transparent as she stopped before them and added just a bit of force on his bones to let him know she was still there. “Speak.”
He cleared his throat. “Boys, we’re wasting our time. They have nothing we want or need in those packs of theirs. The lady has so kindly informed me of greener pastures, and I don’t know about you, but I would like to be on our way.”
Murmurs arose among the men, a buzz of deep vocals and grunts, which were all but lost on her ears. Would they take his word, or would they fight to the death?
Surely, they valued their own lives, but as she looked among them—from the young, boyish features of some of their faces, to the middle-aged followers, to the gray-haired old men—she wasn’t so sure. They were all filthy, the bags under their eyes a sign of their fatigue, and their skinny frames a blatant mark of starvation. When was the last time they’d eaten, or rested for that matter?
She shook her head.
Don’t let them in. You can’t save them all, only your people.
Pain seared her temples.
“Forget this,” she said as she let go of Donald’s arm and turned back toward her crew.
She didn’t want this—the killing, the fighting, the constant struggle to survive. And not just against Mother Nature, against each other. What would her mom think of her?
As she walked back toward her crew, her eyes met Krieger’s. His gaze was softer than it had been only minutes before. He nodded as if he understood the choice she’d just made.
Her shoes squished in the mud as she made her way back to her crew, when suddenly a familiar sound met her ears. She stopped in her tracks as a gun cocked behind her. All in one breath, time slowed down and the air thickened.
She had disobeyed the first rule in combat—never take your eyes off your enemy. Now she was going to pay for it.
Krieger’s face paled as she turned.
Donald’s gun fired one shot, then another, as she tumbled into the wet dirt. She managed a kneeling position and reached for the knife in her boot. The item left her hand with force and sailed through the air toward its target.
Another shot left his gun as the knife struck him in the chest. He fell hard on his side as burning fire erupted on her left side. The bullet had struck her shoulder, sending hot spasms of pain radiating through her body.
She pressed her hand over the wound and then lifted it to her face. Blood covered her fingers and palm. “Shit.” She took a deep breath as she applied more pressure to the hole in her shoulder. She tried to stand, but her legs wouldn’t support her weight.
Donald lay flat on his back, his now recognizable screams sounding off as his men ran to him.
Another round of pain assaulted her as her stomach heaved and the world waved in front of her.
A blurry Krieger appeared before she was able to make another attempt at standing. “Eva, we’ve got to get you out of here.”
She shoved him away with her good arm, but the act did little to sway him. Leaving was currently not an option she was willing to entertain. Donald wanted a true fight to the death, and she wasn’t leaving now only to watch their backs all the way back to Everwood.
No, this ended now. What on earth had she been thinking only moments ago? A match was a fight to the death, period.
A deep breath seemed to clear away some of the nausea. If she could just get past the initial shock, she’d be able to stop the bleeding herself.
Krieger had a tight grip on her non-gaping shoulder, and she wondered if she could use him to help her legs support her. She looped her arm around his neck and pressed up with her weakened legs. Once they accepted her weight, she let go of him and started toward Donald, but Krieger protested. “Eva, I don’t think it’s a good—”
“Leave me.” She pressed the palm of her hand to the wound and took another step toward Donald’s twitching legs. Another step and then another. Her movements seemed to be getting quicker as Krieger and her crew hovered not far behind. She felt their presence getting closer as she neared her victim.
Soon Krieger was striding by her side. “Eva, what are you doing?”
They stood opposite Donald’s men, looking down on the bleeding man. He inhaled an unsteady breath, then released a heavy one. His eyes remained open, but the man known as Donald was gone.
The warmth of her blood oozed between her fingers, reminding her why she came. “I’m retrieving my knife.”
Donald wanted a good fight, well, he got it. He just hadn’t realized she wasn’t just a woman—she was a soldier.
She bent at the waist and drew the dagger from his chest. Suppressing the urge to grimace was difficult as she felt the blade gliding along his breastbone and heard the suction sound the weapon created as it left his body.
The Others began to scatter. Their purpose here accomplished, the disdain clear in their eyes and in the way they moved.
As she wiped the excess blood from her knife, the coppery smell assaulted her nose. Her sense of smell wanted nothing more than to shut down and call it a day, but that wasn’t an option.
There was still much to do. The letter needed to make it to the Skyline Sanctuary, and she needed to make notes of the weather in the villages. Her crew needed her to lead.
She faced Krieger, not afraid of what she might see. This was life. This was the way things were, and it was better he understood that now.
As they stood over the still form of her enemy and she bled from the shoulder, she found no shock in his eyes.
Did he really understand the ways of this land, of her?
He studied her face as if she was going to turn into mist and disappear. That didn’t sound like such a bad idea to her.
In another world, in another time, in another place, she might have been the prom queen or a college grad. Not a warrior, a leader, a killer...
He took her arm. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”
It was then that her head began to feel like a hot air balloon. The pain in her shoulder seemed to lessen as her legs went numb and gave out. Krieger caught her in his arms before she hit the ground, his strength encompassing her. Compassion glowed in his eyes as he caressed the side of her face with the back of his fingers.
Her eyes squeezed shut as she whispered, “Bury him first.”
She wanted to disappear, that much was true, but not into mist, into these arms. His arms. Arms that offered her something she thought had been long forgotten and lost to this world.
The mist was winning—creeping, wanting entrance so badly. She couldn’t fight it; she let it consume her mind and block out the pain.
She heard movement around her, but her lids were heavy. The fog had eased out of her brain, but the weakness remained. Her back was against something hard, and her body was weighed down... with a fur pelt?
The voices of her crew surrounded her, an argument brewing between them.
“We should remain here.” Krieger’s voice held an edge of anger.
“You’re not in charge here. I am. Let’s get that straight right now.” Derek’s voice rang out and echoed around them. “And I say we move out, now. Eva would want us to.”
“She’s lost too much blood, she can’t be moved,” Krieger said. “What’s your plan, to leave her here?”
It would be hard for him to understand, but this is what she had tried to explain to him. The sick and the injured were liabilities. They endangered the rest of the crew and made moving around difficult.
Derek was right. They had to keep moving. The longer they lingered in one area, the more dangers there would be. The Others were only part of the problem of coming into the valley. Wild dogs and weather could also be issues. Their motto had always been and would continue to be: get in and get out as fast as you can.
Derek didn’t have to answer. He would leave her here and assign someone to tend to her as the rest of them moved out to finish their mission. It’s what she would do. The whole of their people was more important than just one life. The people of Everwood depended on them, and they would not let them down.
She heard Krieger’s low growl of frustration—a sign his temper was rising. He didn’t understand. Maybe he thought their ways cruel, but it was the way things worked. The method they found held the best chance of survival for the masses.
Waking up was a must. She reached deep for what strength she had, hoping to clear away the weakness in her limbs. She had to blink a few times to clear her line of sight, but then she was able to see him. Krieger sitting with his back to her, as if to protect her from any approaching threat. He was serious about safeguarding her? As a way to repay some debt he thought he owed her for saving his life?
Ridiculous. She ignored the flutter in her belly as she focused on the area before her. They were in some kind of drainage ditch, camped in a giant dislodged concrete pipe. Morning sunlight graced the land with its presence. Had she slept through the night? Water trickled outside the tunnel and the smell of sewage was strong, but it was a good place to camp. Off the beaten path, easily protected, and hidden out of sight.
She was leaning against the hard wall while Sarah tended a small fire in the middle. Glancing to the right, she saw John guarding the opening. Luke must have been outside scouting.
She watched as Derek readied his weapon, counted his ammo, and studied his pack near the left exit. His intention to leave was still very apparent. Luke, John, and Sarah would follow him; they had been trained to do so, but Krieger, not so much. She could see by his stiff stance, the tight set of his jaw, and his lack of pack that he had no design of moving from this tunnel.
Did Derek appoint Krieger to stay with her? It was obvious they didn’t get along, and Derek had known the other members of the crew a lot longer. He would pick them over Krieger to fight next to in a heartbeat.
She lifted herself into an upright position and felt a stab in her shoulder. Her gasp caught the attention of all in the tunnel.
Krieger turned. “You’re awake.”
Her hand went to her shoulder. Gauze had been applied over the wound, but even now, it was soaked in blood. She needed stitches or worse . . .
She nodded, then muttered, “I need to speak to Derek. Alone.”
Krieger’s brow furrowed. He didn’t like it, but that was tough shit. With her out of commission, Derek was in command.
He stood as he glanced in Derek’s direction. Sarah and John moved to wait outside the tunnel with weapons in hand as Derek smiled at Krieger, then crouched by Eva’s side.
She waited to speak until Krieger had exited. “You know where the Skyline Sanctuary outpost is, correct?”
He nodded.
She reached into her bag with her good arm and removed the letter her father had given her and then rested her head up against the cool, slimy concrete. “I’ll give you a week. Krieger and I will stay here and wait for your return. I should be able to travel by then. If, for some reason, you don’t return in a week’s time, Krieger and I will head for Everwood and send a search team for you. Keep tabs on weather patterns you see, and we will do the same.”
“Understood, but we shouldn’t have any trouble. I-I’m sorry, Eva.”
She shifted her weight, but no position would be comfortable, not with a hard slab of concrete under her backside. “Don’t be. I’d be doing the same in your shoes. Protect them.”
He reached for her hand, but she jerked away. He grimaced and said, “You going to be okay with him? He doesn’t—”
“I’ll be fine. The bullet went straight through. This is a safe-ish spot. Just get done what we set out to do so we can go home.”
Derek straightened and started to turn but stopped halfway. “Just watch him, okay? Sleep with your gun if you have—”
She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. He’s a good guy.”
His fists clenched at his sides. “How do you know that? He’s an outsider, Eva, you don’t know him. Remember that.”
Why was he so angry and concerned? She could take care of herself. Had she not proven that time and time again?
“I’ve spent enough time with him to know he’s not a threat to us.”
His eyes darkened as he took a step toward her. “You trust him, then?”
“Yes!” The word flew from her mouth, but did she really? And why was her temper rising at Derek’s suspicion of Krieger?
“Fine. See you in a week.” He turned from her and walked to the round opening at the end of the tunnel.
Words were exchanged outside, but she couldn’t hear them. Derek walked past the open hole with John, Luke, and Sarah in tow.
The fire still burned, and she watched the flames as she waited for Krieger to come back in. She could trust him... couldn’t she?
If he was a threat to them at all, they’d have known it by now, right? He had ample opportunity to attack them, yet he hadn’t.
He seemed interested in their lifestyle and had made an effort at fitting in. Sure, she didn’t know where he came from or his past history, but neither did he. Right now, he was working off instinct, which seemed to be genuine and true.
As he walked back in, the smell of sunlight came with him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes as he settled across from her and searched his pack.
Had he overheard the conversation she had with Derek, or did he say something to Krieger to upset him?
She closed her eyes. Why did she even care? She had bigger things to worry about. Getting well and getting the hell out of here was at the top of that list.
The sound of grain hitting metal met her ears, and she opened her eyes to see Krieger filling a small pot with oats and water.
He set the item down on rocks amid the fire and turned to look at her. He rested his arms on his thighs, his usual MO, and tilted his head as he regarded her. “So, are you and Derek an item or something?”
“What? Why would you ask that?”
He shrugged. “He seems . . . protective of you.”
She tugged at the collar of her shirt. “N-no, we have never been an item. H-he may have expressed interest a while back in becoming more than friends, but I didn’t reciprocate. He was fine with that, and really, he’s just protective of all the residents of Everwood. It’s his job.”
He shook his head and surveyed the ground. “No. This is different.”
She scoffed. He was one to talk.
He looked up at her again. “What?”
“You think Derek and I are an item because he’s protective of me, but have you checked yourself out lately?”
His brow furrowed. “T-that’s . . . different.”
She snapped her mouth shut and looked away. Was it?
When the oats began to boil, he placed a cloth over the handle and removed the pot from the heat. Using a wooden spoon, he scooped out portions into bowls, then handed her one. “Here, you should eat.”
She accepted the dish but poked at the contents. He was right, she should eat, but could she keep the food down? No time like the present to find out. She placed a spoonful in her mouth, chewed slowly, then swallowed. The oats tasted good.
He made himself a bowl, then asked, “What’s the deal with your father and this council?”
She shook her head. “There’s no deal.”
He ate a heaping spoonful of oats and asked, “But why do the people follow him?”
“My father was a colonel in the military. Afterward, he became the mayor of our village and, in his free time, became an excellent huntsman. Everyone knew my father. He was loved and respected, so when the end came, survivors looked for a leader.”
“So, they chose him, then?”
She nodded. “They knew he could provide for them and keep them safe.”
He finished his bowl and said, “And the council?”
“They keep the balance and help preserve order. It would be hard for one man to mind hundreds of survivors, now, wouldn’t it?” She set the bowl aside with some oats remaining.
He laughed. “I thought that was what he had you for?”
She met his gaze. “No, although the people have come to trust me as they would my father.”
“So, someday you’ll take over for him?”
“The council would never allow it.”
He leaned against the wall. “Why?”
She sighed. “They’re . . . old fashioned about these things. I would need . . .”
“What?”
“A husband.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, can we talk about something else now? I’d ask you twenty questions, but you can’t remember shit,” she said, trying to suppress a smile.
He stood to his full height. The huge tunnel seemed to shrink in the presence of his large frame. A half smile played on his face as he said, “Fine. I’ve been thinking, I should go hunting, that way we can save our provision for when we travel—”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why? I have everything I need.”
She wanted to stand and face him, but movement seemed to anger her wound. “And what do you know about hunting?”
He grinned. “I have air in my lungs, perfect eyesight, and a gun. What else is needed?”
“Umm, aim.”
He removed his gun from his pack and turned it in his hand. “I could have aim. How do you know?”
She rested her hands in her lap. “Do you?”
He removed an empty black bean can from his pack, placed it at the end of the tunnel, and returned to her side. “Let’s find out.”
She looked to the can, then back to him. He held the gun with a skill that seemed natural, but if he could actually use the weapon was yet to be seen. He looked down the barrel of the gun and pressed on the trigger.
She couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Yeah, you have to load the pistol first.” Shit, that hurt. Note to self, no laughing.
He growled in response as he moved back to his pack and loaded a magazine. With quick movements, he returned to his stance and held out his arms. His gaze was steady as he focused on the can and fired.
The clang was immediate. The can flew up in the air, then came to a crashing halt onto the cement ground. He lowered his weapon as a wide smile spread across his face.
Oh, that beautiful smile.She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Eva shook her head and said, “Beginner’s luck. You’re still not going. When I’m feeling better, I’ll go with you and—”
He tucked the pistol in his waistband. “Angel, we need food. I’m capable of doing this. You just saw it with your own eyes. Besides, you said I was strong. I. Can do. This.”
He called her Angel again. “Okay.”
“Okay? Good, I’m glad you’re seeing things my way now. So, what do you prefer, rabbit—”
She shook her head. “No, I meant, okay, I’d listen to you. Not okay, you can go.”
He took a deep breath. “Damn it, Eva, I’m not asking your permission, but I would feel better if you were comfortable with me going.”
She needed him to understand why it was dangerous for someone unfamiliar with this area to travel alone, and accomplishing that from the ground was a no-go. She eased herself off the tunnel floor. Her knees were weak and shaky, but she had the strength to stand.
She reached for the wall to steady her footing as Krieger came to her side.
He placed his hand on her shoulder and asked, “What are you doing?”
She leaned into him. “I’m still your commanding officer, and I said no.”
His brow furrowed as he moved away from her. “I’m not just gonna let you starve, Eva. I won’t be far, just a few yards from this tunnel. If you’re stable, and the weather is not shit, I’m going.” He turned from her and made a beeline for the tunnel opening.
She had to stop him. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into and was likely to get himself killed. She couldn’t allow that—couldn’t handle that.
She pushed off the wall and started after him. “Krieger!”
He was almost to the end of the tunnel when she lost her footing and went down hard on her side, knocking the wind out of her lungs. She moaned as the searing heat ate its way through her limbs and torso. Her hand went to her wound just as he came rushing to her side.
“Shit, your wound’s bleeding again,” he said as he touched her shirt, which was already wet with fresh blood. He leaned her up against the wall again. “Tell me what to do.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Stoke the fire and get my knife.”
“The fire, your knife . . . I don’t understand.”
“The wound is too deep. I’d hoped it would heal on its own, but there’s no choice now. It’ll have to be cauterized.”