Blaze Page 5

  "He was promised to my sister, Albania." He smiles to himself, clearly lost in a memory. "Together they created chaos. My dads would say if those two ruled the lands we would all starve." Shaking his head, he wipes his face on the back of his bare arm, smearing dirt across his cheek. "She was kidnapped shortly after your brother died. We never found her or heard word from who took her. She just vanished."

  His face crumples and his bottom lip trembles slightly. Suppressing the instinct to roll my eyes, I reach out a hand and place it on his shoulder. Unknown to me this must be some sort of social signal because he practically throws himself at me. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me towards him in a tight embrace. Awkwardly I press my chin into his shoulder, my arms hanging loose at my sides.

  "There’s so much I want to tell you, Kay, but I'm frightened. My brothers will tell it better than I can." I raise an eyebrow at the crack in his voice. He’s close to tears and emotional. I've never seen a man act this way. My fathers are gentle men, patient until the sun set and then they'd disappear along with my mother. It wasn't until I hit my teens that I finally understood what them disappearing meant. Ew. No one likes to think of their parents that way. That was until she was killed, then they were wild… like animals.

  The sun beats down on us and Conner gives no indication of letting me go anytime soon. So, I decide to settle in. Relaxing against him, I lift a hand, placing it softly on his hip. The material there is rough against my skin. They must drive him nuts walking around all day in this heat. I make a mental note to find him another pair. A softer pair. And a shirt. Because his torso is going to get me killed with distraction.

  "Kay," he says my name on a moan which shoots all the way down to the apex of my thighs. I shift uncomfortably, the foreign feeling confusing me slightly. I’m not a virgin. Well, at least not in the conventional sense. Fifteen and too cocky for my own good, I'd been caught stealing ammo from a mercenary convoy. The farm got attacked by Panda regularly and my family used homemade rifles. Bullets… well they're hard to come by.

  I got caught. The first and last time I let that happen. The guy who'd caught me was young but not as young as I was at the time. Instead of turning me in or simply beating me to death, he raped me. He was so shocked to discover I was a girl; he almost decided to keep me for himself. Luckily for me, but definitely not for them, he already had four slaves with him and no patience to teach another. He'd beaten me a little, used my body, then sent me on my way. Scarred, bruised, minus my innocence, but alive. He'd let me leave and I collected the ammo I'd stashed before being caught.

  "Shit, Kayla!" Connor's hand snakes to the base of my hair, wrapping around my neck. His other hand cups my face and he looks deeply into my eyes, searching for some semblance of feeling there. Finding nothing, he leans his forehead against mine.

  "I'm so sorry, sweet face. I should’ve been here to protect you from that." Laced with regret and sorrow, his words echo in my mind. Could he have protected me? He seems so ... inept.

  "I would’ve gutted that bastard, Kayla. With my bare hands." He’s so earnest and full of passion I'm half tempted to believe him.

  "I took care of it. The next night I followed the convoy. I hunted him for two weeks." I take a sharp breath as the memories assault me. I can almost feel Connor's fury as he watches with me.

  The night was cool. The moon provided little light, but I managed to find Tac's tent by scent alone. The smell of putrid peaches and rotten corpse was forever embedded in my mind. For the last thirteen nights, I tortured my rapist. I started by stealing the ale his horse carried. Weighted down with the foul stuff, the horse looked at me with appreciation as I poured every drop onto the tent Tac called home as the gaggle of Tri-City mercenaries set up camp each night.

  That night I set fire to his only shelter, causing white smoke to plume into the night. The smoke was visible for miles as the flames burned the ale. Panda attacked the camp several times that night. I stood hidden amongst the broken buildings, watching but taking no joy in the chaos I created. I'd killed several zombies who got too close to Tac. I needed him to survive. I wasn't done with him yet. I wasn't about to let a Panda take that away from me.

  The next day I followed on silent feet as the group tore through farms and small shantytowns filled with Hands too old or infirm to work. They pilfered and plundered like thieves in the night showing no mercy to the vulnerable people. I gave those arseholes no quarter as I moved from shack to shack, barn to barn behind them. Slitting throats and stabbing the fuckers who dared to pick on the weak. Their blood painted the shantytown. The group’s numbers had been cut by half at the end of the night, my blade dulled.

  The next night I decorated Tac's new tent with the innards of his brethren after letting them sit in the hot sun all day. I smelled the rotting flesh for days, the stench stuck in my nose. He cursed and fought his fellow troops, accusing them of the act. His fury stirred my own. The memory of his weight on me and his dirt-caked hands on my skin fuelled what happened next.

  For the next two nights, I filled his new tents with bugs and dead animals. Tac garnered no information as to who was doing these heinous things to him. He took it upon himself to pay two men to stand watch as he lay under a piece of tarpaulin tied between two trees, laying a bed of rags on the dirt floor. The first cracks in his facade began to appear.

  As the group took off to the nearest lake to gather and boil water for their journey a few nights later, I snuck into their camp. Small enough to pass as a boy with my wig, no one paid me any mind.

  I dug a small hole next to his rags, just deep enough to bury a leg up to its ankle. I placed dead leaves atop the hole and climbed the tree next to where he would lay. High in the branches, no one could see me, not unless they were looking for me. Hours later he'd returned drunk, about to rape one of the male slaves, when his foot fell into my trap snapping his ankle, causing him to scream over and over in pure agony. And still, I felt nothing.

  Every other night I created chaos for him. Stealing, setting things on fire, leading him to slowly lose his mind. If I wasn’t so broken, it would’ve been fun to watch.

  Only, I was broken, and no matter how I tortured my rapist, I felt no better. Justice for his crimes, not just against me, but against his slaves too, had yet to be exacted.

  On the fourteenth night, I planned to end this. Justice would be mine. Would it fix me? I hoped it would. I’d watched closely as Tac quickly lost his mind, convinced one of the group was trying to off him. He'd grown paranoid and secluded himself away from the convoy.

  Sleep deprivation added to his madness. He laid on the mossy floor clutching knives and guns, his ankle bandaged and useless. His black scraggly beard was hacked into, his clothes stained with urine and faeces. Tac couldn't fall any lower than he was in that moment.

  As dawn broke that morning, I set his slaves free, two women, a young man and one who's age I couldn't determine. They were bloodied, bruised and suffering from near starvation. They stood there, waiting for instructions. Clearly immune, I sent them to the only place I knew they'd be safe: my family. They wanted to follow me, but I told them I had no plans to form a crew. I was a lone wolf, always had been.

  Perched on a branch above my rapist and gripping matching swords, I leapt on him. I planned on taking this slowly. We were out of hearing distance from his fellow mercenaries and I had the opportunity to torture this sumbitch to my heart's content. But something broke inside me the day he’d forced himself upon me. I felt nothing. I didn't have it in me to slice him up the way I’d wanted to.

  Screaming, Tac scrambled away from me. He begged and pleaded for his life and it only served to make me more determined. Dropping my swords, I pulled the gun from the holster at my hip and shot Tac in the dick. His wails and screams drew the attention of nearby Panda and I left him to bleed out or be eaten. I didn't stick around to see which.

  “Fuck! That cunt!" Connor narrows his eyes at me, an emotion I can't decipher on his face. I really n
eed to learn more emotions other than pissed-offness.

  "I won't touch you, Kayla. Not until you give me express permission. I swear!" His hands drop from my body and he steps away. I almost cry out at the loss of contact and heat. It hadn’t felt completely terrible having him hold me as I relived the horrors of my past. I wanted to ask him to hold me and never let go.

  Instead, I shrug and look away, unable to look at the pity in his eyes. At least, I think it's pity. "Let's move," I say. I turn and walk away. The heat would dehydrate us if we didn't find a clean source of water soon. My waterskin was almost empty with us both sipping from it. Carrying him was exhausting. Now I'm pouring my heart out to him like we’re friends? Why couldn't I have just left him in that field?

  Hours later, my feet are sore, and my clothes are soaked through from sweat. We haven't found a source of water yet and Connor’s driving me crazy.

  "Kayla, look!" I turn just in time to watch as a deer and her fawn sprint across the blackened ground behind us. "Wow. I haven't seen a deer in forever."

  I turn towards him; his blue and brown eyes sparkling in the sun. Gravity seems to pull us together, but I resist and keep moving.

  We walk in silence again. For reasons unknown to me, I'm the one following Connor now, my thoughts completely scrambled. I trail behind him humming my favourite tune from my device. Once it's in your head, you'll never get it out: the one Baby’s named after. Shifting my feet across the dirt, time slows to a snail’s pace. My throat’s so dry I could start a fire with my tongue.

  He's utterly silent as he leads us God knows where. I just hope he knows somewhere with water and we arrive soon, before we both start feeling the effects of the heat. "You know where we're going, Connor?" My words make him jump. He was clearly lost in his own thoughts. His mismatched eyes meet my blue ones and my breath leaves me. I know this look, or something similar. Fear.

  "Where?" I spin slowly in a circle, trying to find what danger he's seen or heard. Suddenly I see it. There in the tree line is a mountain of a man.

  "Crow," Connor mumbles out.

  I squint my eyes to get a better look at the potential threat. His dark hair’s cropped close to his scalp and tattoos peek out from under the rolled-up sleeves of his black shirt, too far away for me to make them out. Muscled arms and broad shoulders take up the space between two oak trees. Impeccably clean black pants strain over thick thighs. He’s so out of place in the wastes that if I didn't know better, I'd swear he just walked out of a picture.

  "Crowley," Connor shouts like the idiot he is. Even if he knows this hunk, I mean guy, it's foolish to scream like that so close to the trees. Who knows what’s lurking beyond the trunks? As the mountain man stalks towards us, Connor and I move too. We close the distance quickly. Meeting in the middle, the two guys throw their arms around each other in an embrace. I stand there holding my katana, seconds away from calling for Baby. The show of affection has me looking down at the ground, kicking at the dirt awkwardly.

  "Crow, I found her! This," my head flicks up, eyes locking onto dark green ones, "is Kayla!" Crowley’s eyes roam my body from head to toe, taking in my dirty wig, face and clothes. He wrinkles his nose at me. Rude.

  "Kayla isn't a boy, Connor." Yea, look again, big guy. With my small stature and the wig, I'm easily mistaken for a male. Which is the whole idea.

  "It's a wig, Crow. Here." Connor starts to reach up towards my head, but when my eyes flick to his hand he stops short and raises them in the air. "Sorry!" His face crumples as he retreats a little. "It's ok, Kayla. He's my brother."

  "So?" I scowl at him, brother or not I don't know him from a stick.

  "You can trust him. He knows you too, remember?" I squint my eyes at the man before me, trying to get a read on him. His arms are folded across his broad chest, but he seems relaxed. I see no weapon. Which is both foolish and good news for me. I reach up and push back my short black wig slowly. Revealing a small patch of my golden hair.

  "Shit." The look on new guy's face tells me he wasn't expecting that. But at the same time recognition dances in his eyes. "Kayla?"

  "Yup, that's my name. Listen, guys." My eyes scan the trees. The sun’s already going down, we've got maybe two or three hours of daylight left. We need to find food, water and a place to lay our heads. "I need supplies." I look at the brawny man's green eyes "Do you have any water? Give me some and I'll be on my way." My voice is croaky with thirst.

  "Yes. And shelter. We've been waiting." He spins on his heel and walks back into the forest. Turning to Connor, I raise an eyebrow in question.

  "You'll see. You'll see." I twist my body to look the way we came, expecting to see Baby on the horizon but finding nothing. My feet follow Crowley as Connor strolls by my side. I'll get some water and then ghost.

  We weave through the copse, dodging branches and fallen trees. None of us say anything, but Connor and Crowley share a lot of knowing looks. If I didn't know better, I'd say they were having unspoken conversations. A few metres ahead is a clearing and as we enter, all the air in my lungs comes rushing out of me and I almost fall to the floor.

  The trees surrounding the area have been felled, or rather torn from the ground, if the fresh mounds of earth are anything to go by. In the centre is a large fire, it's heat radiates to where I stand. To one side the tree trunks have been sawn and chopped, fashioned into benches and a table. On the other side, a man with long golden hair stands in front of a pure white building type thing. My mind fails to come up with an explanation as I stand there open-mouthed. His hair!

  "It's called a Campo. A pop-up mobile home. One of Charlie's inventions." Connor gestures to the guy with the hair when he says Charlie. Damn, I have envy for this guy's hair. It’s past shoulder-length, wavy, frizz-free and so shiny the sun glancing off it makes me squint. My hand unconsciously goes to my own bound hair. I haven't washed it in weeks. It’s too dangerous to take off my wig. I’m forever paranoid about being seen.

  Connor strolls over to Charlie and they hug for a long period. The feeling of Crowley's eyes on me has me turning to face him.

  "What?" I bark. He shakes his head, his eyes not leaving mine.

  "Can't believe you're here, Kayla. We've-"

  "Not now, Crow. Let's get some food and drink, then we can discuss things with our guest,” Charlie says. Barely even looking at me, he breaks away from Connor and enters the Campo leaving me with Connor and Crowley. The hairs rise on the back of my neck as both their eyes lock onto me.

  "Shall we?" Crowley asks.

  Turning to mountain man I nod and move to the tree benches, perching on the end of one of the thick trunks. More looks are exchanged between the two of them and I lose my temper.

  "What the fuck is happening here? What is that?" I jab my finger towards the white monstrosity Charlie disappeared into. "You two are freaking me out with the looks. Are you aliens? Spill before I leave." I look from Connor to Crowley as I speak, their faces masks of emotions that change so quickly I can't keep up. Crowley speaks first.

  "Connor, Charlie and I are, for lack of a better word… yours," Crowley answers so casually it takes a second to sink in. My mouth gapes and my eyes widen. Mine? Like, for keeps? I giggle inside my head. Connor barely conceals his chuckle joining me in the madness.

  He continues, ignoring the fact that my face displays how funny I find this situation. "That," he hooks a thumb over his shoulder. "Is home base. Erected eight weeks ago when we landed in this Godforsaken wasteland."

  Charlie exits the… home base, as Crowley finishes speaking. He has two large covered platters in his hands which he places on the rough sawn table. Lifting the lids, he reveals a feast upon each. Meat, vegetables and Tates on one; bread, seeds and fruit on the other.

  Covertly, I pinch my leg under the table. My flinch makes the three guys look at me in concern. This can't be real. That food… I've never seen so much in one place before. Despite growing up on a farm, food was still scarce. Over ninety per cent of our crops were sold or gi
ven away. The meagre leftovers had to feed the five of us.

  My mouth starts to water and my stomach rumbles loudly. Unable to stop myself, my hand shoots forward and snatches up a roll. I bite a chunk out of it before I can even blink. My eyes roll back in my head as my mouth has a party around the fresh bread. I haven't had bread in years. Flour was too difficult for farmers to grind; they send the wheat whole to the city to turn into flour.

  All three men sit and watch me devour the roll and wash it down with cool water. Actual real cool water. Not even warm. How'd they keep it cool? Between bites I pop seeds into my mouth, the satisfying crunch drawing moans from me. Every time I look up the guys’ eyes flick away from me, pretending to look at anything other than the skin and bones girl in front of them eating like an animal.

  I eat from the platters until I can't fit anymore in my stomach, and then I unbutton my jeans and scarf down another roll. I don't care if it's unladylike shovelling food into my mouth like this. I'm way beyond caring. When you're presented with food featured in your dreams, you dive in headfirst, coming up for air only when absolutely necessary.

  "More water?" I look up into Charlie's brown eyes and swallowing the last piece of bread, I nod. Charlie’s around six feet and has narrow hips covered in blue jeans with holes in the knees but clearly not old. His black t-shirt is clean and hole-free. His face is kinda long with a scar running down the side of his cheek. It looks like a burn mark if the spider leg-like marks coming from it are anything to go by. He’s handsome, but not as built as the other two. He stands to fetch more water and I can't help but watch. His bubble butt makes my mouth water. Despite being thinner than the other two, he’s clearly strong.

  "Spent much time around men, Kay?" My eyes snap to Crowley's grass-green eyes. The colour keeps changing and I can't settle on what colour they are.

  "Nope. Ugh, I'm so full." I lean back and pat my round belly. "But that last roll is calling to me." They both laugh, their eyes twinkling with some feeling, making me frown. I watch them wearily as I munch on the last bit of bread. Charlie comes back, places the full pitcher in front of me, and sits down. His handsome face breaks out in a huge smile. Something stirs in my belly as our eyes meet. He seems familiar in ways that can’t be possible.