The Last She, page 2
“Yeah, no wonder. He looks half-starved. Probably just looking for food.”
This came from Kaden. God, he was heavy. But through the panic came a single thought: He didn’t know I was a girl.
“Anyone with him?”
“No.”
“You think he’s part of a clan?”
“Nah, I mean . . . look at him.”
The weight of their eyes was suddenly as heavy as the silence. I didn’t like that I couldn’t see them with my face ground into the dirt. Then—
“Jeb, come help me check him for weapons. He had a gun, might have a knife too.”
My leg muscles tightened, screaming to run. What did checking me for weapons entail? There were a few things he’d notice if he checked too closely.
I readied myself for Kaden’s weight to lift. My breaths came shaky and shallow, fingers tingling as I prepared for the race of my life. Instead, powerful hands grabbed my arms, and held me steady. For a brief moment the weight lifted as Kaden stood. I kicked wildly, making contact with someone, hearing a satisfying umph.
The satisfaction didn’t last long. Sudden pain exploded across my lower thigh: one of the men had swung something hard against me. The pain radiated down my leg and I swallowed a whimper. Another set of hands held my legs now, and I was shaking, blinking back my tears.
What sort of pain would I endure if they found out I was a girl? Hands worked steadily up my leg, squeezing my thigh viciously. I jerked, but the hands kept moving. Maybe he would just search my back? When he paused at my waist, I allowed myself a feeling of hope.
The metallic note of a knife leaving its sheath broke it. Slicing upward, the knife cut through my shirt and cool air swept over my back. I closed my eyes.
“What the hell is . . .” I could almost hear him making the connection in his head at the sight of my bra. I was skinny, but even then, a woman’s shape was still different from that of a man.
“Turn him over.”
The pressure released. My window of opportunity. Like a viper, I flipped over, kicking the man who’d been searching me full in the face.
I should have aimed for Kaden. He tackled me and was sitting astride my waist before I could get to my feet. Damn! His eyes blazed into mine with a sudden understanding.
He reached forward and ripped my shirt away completely, not even bothering with the knife. Then he pulled the hat from my head. Tangled, auburn hair spilled down around my shoulders. My hair was one of the few features I was proud of; thick and straight, hinting at red in the light. I cursed myself now for not cutting it. Not that it mattered. I was trapped beneath a strange man, shirtless except for my bra, my pale skin exposed to the sunlight.
Kaden spoke first. “It’s a girl.”
He said it with such disbelief that, had I not been terrified, I might have been insulted. I resisted the urge to spit on him. The other men came closer. My eyes burned with humiliation and fear.
“I don’t know how you were raised but sitting on a girl is not a polite way to introduce yourself.” Or at least, that’s what I probably should have said. What actually came out was a mix of profanities that amounted to, “Get off me. NOW!”
Kaden smiled, not at all cowed. Without taking any weight off me, he looked up at the others. “It’s definitely a girl.”
“Can’t be. There’s not any left.”
This from the boy with red hair, freckles, and long limbs—the one whom I guessed had been running alongside me. His eyes seemed too big for his face, and they were filled with a sort of innocent longing, like he saw in me a lost mother or sister. I didn’t want to imagine what the other men were thinking.
It didn’t take long to find out.
“We should check, make sure it’s really a girl, all the way,” said the man with the drawl and the small, rat-like eyes, the one I’d run into. He was balding and had a rash across his arms. The left side of his face was an angry red, and I realized with satisfaction that he was the man I’d kicked. His eyes traveled down my body.
“No, it’s a girl.” This from Kaden. Somehow, I felt like he was the leader here. His green eyes trailed over me, and my face flushed. I returned his gaze with all the hate I could muster.
Then, suddenly, the weight was gone. I sat up slowly, surveying the men surrounding me. Besides the boy, Kaden, and the ugly one I’d kicked, there was a tall man with a hatchet strapped to his waist who hadn’t been part of the fight. His deep bronze skin was contrasted by facial hair peppered with gray, a detail worth noting as I’d not seen anyone over thirty who’d survived the plague, besides my father. I stood, favoring one leg, still burning from the hit.
“Sam, give me your jacket,” Kaden said.
The younger boy, Sam, took off his jacket and handed it over. He stared at the ground, face littered with freckles and hair unwashed. Kaden tossed the coat at me. When I caught it, I considered throwing it at his feet, but settled for glaring at him instead as I pulled it on. I was outnumbered, and my leg throbbed. In a foot race, I could beat every man here, except maybe Kaden. Even standing still he looked fast, with long legs and an athletic frame.
He caught me watching him and smiled. I decided I could outrun him; but I’d put a knife in him first, to be sure. I crossed my arms. The jacket was well worn, soft, and still warm. When I breathed in the scent of leather, there was a metallic tang—blood, in my mouth. I had bitten my cheek when falling and didn’t even notice.
“What’s your name?” he asked. A simple question, but I hadn’t been asked it for so long.
“What’s your name?” I countered. Even though he’d already told me his name, I felt caught off guard, not sure I wanted to tell this group of men anything about me. Even my name.
“Kaden. That’s Sam, Issac, and Jeb.”
Sam, the youngest of them, gave me a soft, boyish smile, contrasted by Jeb’s leer: he was the ugly one I’d kicked. Issac looked me square in the face and nodded, a quiet sympathy. He looked the oldest of the group, maybe even older than my father.
“Ara,” I finally said. Short for Arabella.
Kaden picked up a rope from the ground, and I realized that was what Jeb had swung against my leg. He stepped forward, and I jerked back when I understood what he meant to do. “You’re going to tie me up?”
He smiled, watching me through oddly long eyelashes. “Will you come with us if I don’t?”
“No.”
“Then it doesn’t look like I’ve got much of a choice.”
A cold breeze drifted through the trees, carrying scents of the forest, smells I’d spent the last three years in and had protected me—until now. He tied my hands in front of me with the meticulous movement of someone who knew what they were doing. I leaned as far as I could away from him, shifting the adrenaline, pain, and panic back with a plan. They’re just men. They die as easily as animals. I could still steal a weapon. I could still make it home.
While he tied my hands, Sam ran back to the clearing and returned with my pack and my gun. He pulled out the magazine.
“It’s empty,” he said, sounding confused.
Kaden smiled knowingly, but I refused to acknowledge that he’d been right.
“You know,” Kaden said as he gave the rope a final tug, forcing me a half step closer, “most people shoot a gun. But I like your style. Throwing one is much more sporting. Your aim is a little off, though.”
“Give me the gun and a bullet and I’ll show you how off it is.”
He laughed. Then in a gesture that felt far too intimate, he stepped behind me and wound my hair into a bun. I tried to ignore the feeling of his hands in my hair as he pulled the cap back over my head and then picked up the rope.
“You know, princess, I don’t think I will.”
Two—Kaden
Three years ago, I’d held my little sister, Kia, as she took her final breaths. I’d buried our brothers the day before, beneath a dying Montana sky, and knowing how alone she would leave me carved a fear as deep as the pain. In life, she never stood still. In death, her small body was limp, the only movement a track of blood rolling from her white eyes. Let the horses free, Kaden. The last words I’d heard from a female. Until now.
A cool breeze blew leaves across the street, whistling through broken windows with a high-pitched cry. The eerie sound masked the steady footfalls of our small group. My whole body felt wired, on high alert, and it was impossible not to glance at Ara as often as I looked behind us. An hour ago, I thought my biggest problem was telling Gabriel we’d failed our mission and had lost our team’s gun. Now I had to tell him, and the clan, we’d found the first woman I’d seen in three years. A woman who, judging by her stiff-legged walk and angry eyes, wasn’t nearly as thrilled to be with us.
“Turn here, Sam,” I said softly. Sam nodded and led us off the pavement and onto a game trail that wove through the remains of a community park. Now it resembled more a forest than a clearing, with weeds and trees growing where once there had been only grass. Still, the vine-covered outline of a children’s playground stood as a reminder of what this place had once been. I tried to keep my eyes on the surrounding trees and houses, tried to watch for trouble, but everywhere I looked, all I saw were those eyes, high cheekbones, and reddish-brown hair tucked beneath a cap that couldn’t completely conceal what she was. It seemed unfair that the last woman on Earth would be beautiful. But I suppose God had already proved Himself a cruel bastard.
Issac caught my eye, tilting his head toward Ara in as clear a message as he’d ever sent. Talk to her. Yet I felt a sudden uncertainty that was as out of character as our group’s silent procession.
“Sam, let’s stop for water,” I said when we’d reached the massive oak at the center of the park, the leaves a riot of coppery oranges and red with the fall. Sam held the trailing rope that secured Ara’s hands, happy as a new kid with a puppy. The fresh scent of earth and leaves mashed the rotted scents of the city as I turned to her stiff form. “Would you like some water, Ara?”
Her eyes instantly narrowed—fair—so I drank deeply before I held the bottle out to her. She hesitated, then snatched the bottle from me and did the same. When she was done, she dumped the bottle on the ground instead of handing it back to me. I lifted a brow but didn’t say anything.
“Ready?” Sam said, his eyes going back and forth between the two of us.
“After you two,” I said. Sam stepped forward, Ara glaring at me until the two of them passed. Issac, the king of silent discourse, glanced down at the water bottle and smiled before he, too, continued down the trail.
“Shut up,” I said, and picked up the bottle and followed after them. I thought about what I would have said to him if we had been alone. What else could I have done, Issac? Think about what would have happened if anyone else had found her first. She had an empty gun and one backpack of supplies against a city overrun with warring clans. She was lucky to have been found by us. And then Issac would shrug, or not say anything, which would only make me imagine a million possible answers. Like maybe I was the bad guy here. Maybe I should have helped her instead of taken her captive. Maybe this wasn’t the way to treat the last woman left on the planet.
Damn Issac.
It was nearly dark by the time we came to the mall, a huge domed structure that towered over the surrounding buildings. The deepening colors of dusk masked the building’s decay, making it almost impressive. An empty parking lot stretched out around it, the only visitors a few shiny airships, rusted cars, overgrown weeds, and an abandoned army tank.
“We can’t get them to run anymore,” I said to Ara as we passed by the tank. She stiffened, but I saw her eyes go to the open top, where the hatch lay open. “It’s a good place to spend the night, though, if you’re trapped out in the open. You can lock yourself in.”
She didn’t respond, but there was something assessing in her eyes. Something that told me that, given the smallest chance, she would be gone.
I led our small group through one of the side entrances where Jeb waited for us. He didn’t always scout ahead, but today I’d thought it wise. The mall was close enough to the clan that it was relatively safe from other clans, but nothing was completely safe in this world.
The side entrance led us down a small hallway, and into a back area that was once a storeroom. It had a solitary window in the back, concrete floors, high ceilings, three steel beams that ran through the center, and most importantly, thick walls and doors. The first time we used it we dragged in a fire pit from REI and knocked a hole in the ceiling for the smoke. Now we’d added a few shopping carts and a collection of the beanbag chairs Sam loved.
“Scout out the area?” I said to Issac, who nodded and disappeared through the doors into the greater mall area. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Jeb . . . but I trusted Issac more. After all, he wasn’t the one who’d suggested we check that she was female “all the way.” I’d had to resist the urge to smack Jeb, but that impulse often overtook me. I took the rope to Ara’s hands from Sam as he set to lighting a small fire to cook the rabbit he’d shot earlier in the day. Jeb sulked in the background, watching Ara, who stared at the door where Issac had disappeared. Gabriel had assigned Jeb to our group six months ago, and even if Gabriel was the clan leader, I wished now I would have refused. Jeb was a good horseman, and had a knack for sniffing out supplies, but he would also report everything about this mission, and Ara, to Gabriel. Which brought me back to my current problem: the young woman standing straight-backed beside me. I cleared my throat and nodded to one of the steel beams. “You can sit there.”
To my relief she sagged against the pole—I wasn’t sure what I would have done if she had refused. I used the trailing end of the rope to tie her to the pole. Just for while we make dinner and set up camp, I reasoned, trying not to feel guilty. By then Sam had a small fire going, and I unpacked our few supplies to set up camp. We worked in silence, a feat that rarely occurred. Issac came back a short time later and took over spinning the rabbit roasting over the fire. With everyone here, I couldn’t put off the moment I’d been dreading any longer.
I cleared my throat. “I think we should call a vote.” The men’s eyes turned to me, and, catching the light of the fire, so did Ara’s. “The rules state we bring all captured persons to the clan. But,” I paused, “this is different.”
“She’s a prisoner,” Jeb said at once. “She was in our territory. This shouldn’t even be up for a vote, especially because she’s female. We will be heroes when we bring her to the clan. I vote we follow protocol and take her back. That’s what Gabriel would want.”
All the more reason to not bring her back then.
I stared into the fire. “Sam?”
Sam wrung his hands. I worried most about his reaction to all this. I’d only joined the clan for him; to give him a sense of safety and community. But Sam’s concern wasn’t for himself. “She’ll be safest with the clan. Gabriel won’t treat her like a prisoner. That’s my vote.”
“Issac?” I said, voice heavy.
Issac let the silence stretch out so long I didn’t think he would answer. Then his voice cut through the darkness. “I vote we let her go.”
There was a stunned silence, broken only by the crackle of flames. He gave no further explanation, and I knew it would be futile to ask. My eyes flicked to Ara. She stared at the flames, betraying nothing. “It’s decided. We take her to the clan.”
I’d hoped reaching a decision and saying the words aloud would calm the tension that made my shoulders tense and neck ache, but if anything, it made it worse.
A silence grew again. At night we usually harassed and insulted each other till the embers burned low, but with Ara watching, even I wasn’t sure what to say or do. Sam pulled the bow from his back, running his fingers over the string, probably thinking he’d need to wax it soon. Today he’d stood straight-backed and sure when the infected elk charged. He wasn’t the little boy I’d found hiding in a tree fort in the woods. Yet he’d held the rope to Ara’s hands with a gentle care. While she glared at the rest of us, something in her eyes softened when she looked at him. The thought gave me an idea.
I reached into my bag, pulling out the last of the bread from the clan, then knelt beside Sam. “Let me take over cooking.”
I passed him the bread, nodding to Ara, and winked. He smiled, understanding, and then stood up and walked over to Ara. She glanced up, eyes hard, but then, again, her face softened at the sight of him. Something about his lanky arms and lopsided smile—he could win over anyone.
“Are you hungry?” he said, just loud enough for me to hear. Her voice was soft, I missed the response. As Sam fed her the bread, piece by piece, I wished that Red was here, or any of the other horses, so I could go for a ride and rethink this whole thing. I shouldn’t have tied her up. Maybe I really should have listened to Issac and let her go.
But Jeb would tell Gabriel if we came back without her, and Gabriel would tear apart the entire city to find her. She’d been following us . . . maybe if I could spend some time alone with her, she might tell me why. I stood up, stretched, then moved back into the shadows and circled around the two, just in time to hear Ara say, “Sam, will you untie my hands for a minute? Just so I can get feeling back in my fingers?”
“No.” Ara and Sam started as I stepped into view. “I’ll take it from here, Sam,” I said. Sam ducked his head, picking up the remains of the bread, and headed back to the fire. I crouched before her. Her eyes instantly hardened; even so, it was hard not to stare. The light of the fire lit the planes of her face, the high cheekbones, the delicate lips; all the tiny differences I thought I would never see again.
“Care for a bath, princess?”
Her lips pressed together, not answering, and my chest tightened with guilt. Was she afraid of me?
