Blaze Read online

  Nothing’s white in the wastes. If it was it’s now grey, or so caked in dirt it’s blacker than anything. But I don't see a single streak of dirt on this strange building. Fuck, aliens? I sigh inwardly. I mean really, Kay? You've lost your mind girl. Aliens.

  The stranger stands behind me, far too close for my liking. The only people I’ve ever interacted with willingly were my parents. My Dads were rough men. No patience for ankle biters. Except Klaud. He was kind to me on occasion when I ventured back home. So, being this close to someone new has my insides slithering like snakes in a barrel.

  "Could you be any louder, kid? This place is crawling with Evo’s."

  I turn to face my fellow captee and instantly wish I hadn't because… Hot damn!

  Just short of six feet tall, ripped and tan. No shirt on his torso. He looks like one of the guys in my mum's magazines from before the wars. She'd let me take them out of the plastic once in a while when she would tell me stories passed down to her. This guy’s sex on legs, and he knows it.

  "Shh!" I scold him for being loud while being too loud myself. He rolls his odd coloured eyes at me and I'm suddenly speechless. The left one’s brown. Rich and earthy. The right is blue like bright blue. Freaky. Yet intriguing.

  Square jaw, pouty lips, arms laced with tattoos I couldn't even begin to describe. They snake down his arms, stopping at his knuckles. The ridges of his muscles have my fingers twitching to touch. Hot. As. Fuck. He's a beast. My mouth waters and I stare like an idiot. Not wanting to miss a single hard inch of him, my eyes greedily drink him in.

  You just don't see guys like him in the wastes. Most of them are either half-starved walking skeletons in skin sacks, or so dirty you can no longer tell what colour their skin should be. Neither appeals to me. But this guy… He must be from the city, which makes me want to gag.

  "Move aside, kid. I have places to be." He roughly pushes me to the side. Rude! What the fuck? Anger rolls in my belly. Obviously, he's an immune like me, otherwise, he’d be dead ‘round about now. Except he's not dead, nope. He's very much alive. Good. Lord. I should kick his arse for that… As he walks away from me, my eyes flit to his rear, and my mouth drops open. I'm pretty sure drool just landed on my foot. Hoo boy. Bubble butt rude mother fucker. Why'd he have to be a cock gobbler?

  He stomps like we’re not currently in the middle of escaping hostile territory surrounded by Evo's. His footfalls surely heard by every Advanced in this place. Pulling myself out of my funk, I move silently to the side of the spacecraft. Because let's face it, this ain't a building. Too clean. My hands automatically go to my shoulder and hip, only to realise my eye spies and my bow and arrows has been taken from me. Bastards! They got my precious blades too; even the small ones I keep strapped to my inner thighs in case of emergencies. Fuck a duck, I'm defenceless!

  "Don't follow me, boy. This is not the time for play, run along." He shoos me with his hand, never once looking at me. Well, fuck you, mister. I skirt around the side of him and make my way down the wall of the shiny thing beside me. My eyes scan the area in front of me, not just for Evo’s but for Panda too.

  Panda, the result of a virus the Alphas created in an effort to kill off the few remaining humans. Named as such because the skin around their eyes and mouth turned black while the rest of their skin became white as ghosts. They mindlessly crave flesh. Human. Animal. They’re not picky. Slow, but deadly in groups, Panda wreak havoc on the wastelands, infecting or killing anything with a pulse.

  This area’s probably packed with the rotten buggers, they're everywhere. I have to be very careful extracting myself from this situation. It would be a ball ache to have to fight off any Panda without my weapons. I mean, I can do it but… why churn butter with your hands when there are more efficient ways of doing it?

  I stop at a corner. Tendrils of my golden hair have escaped from under my short black wig. It would be a mistake I couldn't make twice if I were to roam with my natural hair flowing free. I'd be dead quicker than I could sneeze. My mother would cut it short when I was a girl.

  "Never let them see, Kayla. They’ll take you from us if they see it."

  The memory of my mother assaults me, simultaneously filling me with grief and anger, temporarily distracting me. Giving the beast enough time to sneak up on me.

  "Move it! Seer over there." His hand grasps my chin, turning my head in the direction of a wooden shack in front of the spaceship behind us. Shit. The feel of his hand on me sends shivers down my spine. Down, girl!

  I push off the shiny white surface at my back and run as fast as my legs will take me into the streets of London.

  After about twenty minutes of navigating Panda and street debris, I end up in an area I recognize and am able to make it home quickly from that point on. Home. Yea, it's an old bus. Big, yellow and rusted, but watertight. I'd found her when I was a child, ripped the rotten seats out and made her my wastey home.

  I press myself up against the brick wall that faces my bus, Old Yella. Listening, watching. This is protocol, always. Always check for enemies before entering your home. Failure to do so gets you killed, or worse… turned into a Panda.

  Behind me, a rock scuffs the ground and I turn. My hand comes up and is just about to connect with a handsome face when the fucker easily catches it and shoves it towards me.

  "Don't be stupid, kid. I killed three Panda who were following you. You owe me your life," the beast of a man growls at me. My mouth pops open. There were no Panda following me. Dude was confused from lack of water. I shake my head and give the area one last scan. "Fuck off, mister."

  I bolt away and run into the makeshift door of my bus, closing it behind me. I slink down to the floor and use the looking glass I placed on the roof and the attached one in the footwell so I can see outside without being seen myself.

  Beast is casually walking towards Old Yella. His body’s relaxed, his gait loose and sure. He's not even looking around him for Panda! Idiot. He's gunna get himself killed. Or worse, me. Three loud clangs rent the air and I jump to my feet. "You'll attract zombies, you freaking idiot!" I stage-whisper through a small open window.

  "You gunna let me in, kid? I saved your life. You could at least give me some water."

  Nah. Take a note big guy, Kay doesn't share. I shake my head and move further back into my bus. I'm not letting him in, and I ain't sharing my water. I grab the canteen I always keep for emergencies and slip the little device I love so much into my pocket. I found it a few years ago when I was fourteen. I have no idea what it's called but it's my favourite thing in this fucked up world. Except for Baby of course. Black, sleek and sexy. The screen’s cracked a little and the solar charger’s been repaired so many times it's now all tape, but the things in it keep me entertained when nothing else does.

  Books about a kid and his two friends who are all magic. Their school’s full of perils unheard of but the boy always prevails. Music sung by a young boy. His hair over his eyes, singing about his "Baby". And photos. Lots and lots of photos of small creatures. They appear to be the same species but all different colours. Apparently, they enjoy knocking breakable things off surfaces and sitting in small spaces.

  I plop myself down on the dusty settee in the middle of the small space and take a long sip of water, ahh, liquid gold.

  "Let me in, kid. You don't want me to bring Panda to your door, do you?"

  Bitch has a point. I huff and rise slowly, making my way to the door without haste. When I finally get there, the look on his face has me both squirming and hot at the same time. Unlatching the rudimentary lock, I step back as he pushes his way in, almost knocking me on my ass.

  "Water?" He raises an eyebrow at me, hands on his hips like a mother. I snigger inside. Pansy. It's safe to say that in the wastes there isn't an abundance of sexy males to choose from. The Hands and mercenaries who call the barren land home tend to be rough, moody and oftentimes brutal.

  I've mostly kept my distance from them. This guy? His clothing has no holes in it. His sto
ne coloured pants are tight around his legs, the top half of him naked for the world to see. Beautiful artwork graces the toned muscles of his arms that beg to be licked. I think I'm in heat or something. Why is my body reacting so strangely?

  Shit. I throw a bottle at him, not to him because I'm not his friend. He catches it midair. The smirk on his face makes me want to throat punch him and kiss him. I'm not sure in which order. As he drinks the entire contents, I’m mesmerized watching his throat work. It has me licking my lips. What the fuck is actually wrong with me? Why am I drooling? I wipe my chin. With the imaginary drool removed, I shrug at him.

  I pull my hood up and concentrate on my feet. I can’t get attached here. He'll be gone before I get the chance to even learn his name. At least I hope he will. Finishing off the water he gasps softly, making my eyes flick up to watch as he wipes the back of his hand across his plump lips.

  "What's your name, kid?" I look at him from under my lashes as he eyeballs the place I call home. Over the years I've collected scraps of fabric and pinned them to the walls creating a cacophony of colour and texture. The bits of furniture I’ve managed to scavenge is well used, dusty and repaired multiple times. I built a stove of sorts into the sidewall, its chimney poking through the dented roof. The floor’s bare. I used to have rugs, carpets, and rags but I couldn't keep them clean. So now it's bare metal.

  "Cat got your tongue, kid?"

  Cat? What's a cat? I shake my head slightly and push my hair back under my wig. Couldn't be too careful. I can't wait to take it off. It itches. "No," I answer. Smooth like ice. "I've got nothing to say that's all. Just leave!" I can feel the anger bubbling in my stomach. I need this guy to leave. If my mum found out…. Except she won't, will she? She's dead. Emotions I normally don't feel rise to the surface and tears leak from my eyes.

  "What's the matter, kid? Where're your parents?". With that, I break down, my body heaving with sobs.

  "Ah shit." I hear him move as tears stream down my face unchecked. I don't know where it came from, but I wish it would stop. There's a stranger in my bus. He's attempting to comfort me as I curl up into myself and mourn the loss of my mother for the first time since her death.

  "There, there, kid. Everything's going to be ok."

  No, it isn't. It'll never be ok again. Closing my eyes, I see my mother wrapped in an old sheet, oddly flat and floppy in one of my dad's arms. Shit. Pull yourself together, K! I angrily swipe my tears away, then shift so the stranger's hand falls from my shoulder.

  "It's good to cry a little sometimes. Listen, I know of a small tribe just south of here. Follow me and I'll get you to safety." A sarcastic giggle leaves me, unbidden.

  "I'm safe. Just leave." I rise and walk away from him, picking my stuff up as I go. I can only rely on myself in order to stay safe. Others aren't to be trusted. I intended to get him to follow, and as soon as he was out the door, I'd close it behind him and lock it. Only, that's not what happens. What happens is so terrifying, I scream loudly, and it echoes around the metal space of my bus.

  "Come here!" Beast grabs my hood and with it a handful of my wig and pulls, hard, revealing my golden blonde hair. Without thought and going against my instincts, I scream as my heart pounds in my chest.

  "What the fuck?" Beast stands there with my short black wig in his hand, staring at it like it's a new species of animal. Scrambling I pull my hood back up but it's too late. He's seen it. I'm dead.

  "Oh my God. It's you!" His face is full of shock, mouth open, catching flies.

  I duck my head and dash out the door, barely managing to grab a spare sword on the way out. I run headlong into the city streets as I strap it to my back. Shit. Shit. Shit. He saw! I'm so fucked right now. For almost twenty years I’ve managed to hide my hair. Within a half-hour, I've exposed my weakness and he's seen my bloody hair! Now I’m running around London for the first time without my wig! Way to go, K!

  I weave between mangled cars and piles of rubble as I run as fast as I can from the threat behind me. My goal is to get to the hiding place just down the next street, but I trip and fall, landing face first in the dirt. I hit hard and my breath leaves me. I lay there panting, barely able to breathe through the dust. What a newbie move. Always take care when running. A fall could end your life.

  I hear footfalls behind me. Wheezing and spluttering, I turn on my back and move my hair from my face. The sun shines on it, making the near-white locks shimmer so bright I'm almost blinded.

  "Here, put this on. We've gotta get you out of here. I smell Panda." Beast thrusts my wig towards me, and I quickly slip it on. His mismatched eyes never leave mine. Is he going to kill me now? I mean, why give me the wig if he’s just going to kill me anyway? What's his game? Fuck, I'm lying on my sword and can't breathe. If he decides to kill me now then I'm de...

  "I'm Connor. You're Kayla, right?"

  Hold the fuck up, how's he know my name? My head spins and I dry heave. I push off the ground, shove my wig back on and stalk away. He follows. Damn.

  "How'd you know my name?" It's already getting dark, the air reeking of death and rot. I pull my bandana over my mouth in an attempt to block out the smell. My black jeans and jumper help me blend into the night as well as keep me warm.

  "Kathryn." He says my mother's name like he knew her. Like he'd said it a million times before.

  He knew my mum? I stare at him, my jaw hanging open all attractive like. I'm so stumped by her name on his lips I don't even stop walking.

  "Your mother and my father had known each other for many years before you were born. Kayla, don’t you know who you are?" He stops and turns to me. I skid to a stop mere inches from his body.

  "I'm Kayla." Giving him my best 'well duh' face. Obviously, bitch. The one and only!

  "Yes. But you're more than that." Beast takes hold of my elbow and drags my arse into the nearest building. This whole day is fubar, and I can barely even think let alone stop him.

  It's pitch black in here and I stumble and trip over debris, but he never lets me fall, his grip on my elbow punishing. Depositing me near the door, he builds a small fire, breaking pieces of furniture and scraps around the space and piling them up. The flames cast just enough light to be able to see his features. He looks intensely at me with narrowed eyes. I pull down my bandana and take a deep breath of stale air. My head swims with information and confusion. How is this even possible?

  "Kayla, my dad’s President Keeper." The breath leaves my lungs. His dad’s the freaking President of the UK? As in the richest, both in monetary and food value, man on this island? My confusion must show on my face because he slides his hand down my arm then grasps my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. I look down at them in confusion, not mentally present enough to actually think about the fact my hand’s encased in his.

  "You're Connor Keeper? As in, the son of the guy who runs Tri-City?" My hand automatically reaches behind me to toy with the twine wrapped hilt of my blade.

  "Yes, love. The one and only. Sit." It's not really an order but I still bristle a little. I fold my arms across my chest and lean against the wall. His face breaks out in a huge smile and he laughs softly. I can't help but smile too. I don't laugh though. I can't remember the last time I laughed without sarcasm lacing the sound.

  "Ok, precious. You make your stand, I get it. I do. The wastes… they're harsh. Survival of the fittest. But, honey, I would never hurt you. Quite the opposite, actually."

  Ok, so now I'm getting freaked out. No one’s ever spoken to me in such a... a … I don't know what way. My vocabulary’s severely lacking when it comes to emotions.

  "What's going on?" My voice raises the more I speak. Sweat forms on my brow. I drop my hands and once again I'm dismayed to feel empty holsters. I miss the comforting presence of cold steel.

  "I… we…" He stumbles over his words. It makes him adorable and I hate him for it.

  "Spit it out, man!" The words are harsher and louder than I intended. He shifts uncomfortably. I decide to sit down, feari
ng what he's about to say will make my legs turn to jelly. I park my bum on a pile of rubble and sharp edges bite into my flesh, but I ignore it. My arse can wait.

  "We’re promised. Not just me, " he begins.

  Promised? No freaking way. Nah ah. I am not marrying this beast. Not happening. Outdated laws mean that when a woman reaches the age of twenty, she must marry those she’s promised to. But my mother never once told me I'd been promised to anyone, so I thought I'd escaped those archaic rules.

  "Your mother and my father grew up together, Kayla. We… we played together as kids. Those marks on your shoulders?" He points a finger toward me. Instinctively, I raise a hand to press on one of the scars I have on my back. How does he know about them?

  "Those are from Panda. Listen, we don't have time now. I need to get you back to safety. I need to hunt, and you need to sleep."

  I sit there open-mouthed as he turns on his heel and walks away. He knows about my scars? We played together as kids? I’ve never met another child in my life. They’re so rare. And how could a Panda have scarred me? I'd be infected or dead. Once scratched or bitten, immune or not, you die. I’m so exhausted. I take my jumper off and roll it into a ball for a pillow. Unable to continue to think for another second, I lay down and fall headfirst into sleep.

  "Con! Come chase me?" I run from the boy in front of me. My little legs pumping as I speed away. My head turns to watch the cute boy chase after me, excitement on his face. The sunlight catches his golden hair, the same colour as mine. The sound of giggling echoes inside my mind.

  "Gotcha! You're so pretty, Kay." Our eyes meet, his one brown one blue, so full of love. He's a little older than me and much bigger. He tickles me relentlessly. Our laughter is loud and carefree. I feel alive. And loved. I love this boy.