Dead World 3, page 10
He should just go back to Nuria and leave her. That was the smart thing to do. It wasn’t as if he was prepared for a trip into no-man’s-land. Raphael stared out the window as Catherine stumbled toward the crossing checkpoint.
He hit the wheel in frustration, cracking it, then scrambled out of his vehicle. He grabbed the single blood bag he had left and shoved it into his pocket. Stubborn woman. She’d get herself killed if she wasn’t careful.
“Wait up,” he shouted.
Catherine ignored him and kept walking. Raphael secured his vehicle and jogged over to the crossing. She had thrown her pack on the table and presented her neck for scanning.
“State your purpose,” a guard wearing a navy quadrant inspector’s uniform said.
“Business,” Catherine said.
“Pleasure,” Raphael added.
The guard looked at him askance. “Anything to declare?”
“She’s insane.” Raphael glanced at Catherine.
The guard snickered. “Move ahead.” He ushered them on.
“You are the most bullheaded human being I’ve ever met.” Raphael grabbed her arm and yanked her around to face him.
Catherine looked down at his hand and waited for him to remove it. Raphael pried his fingers open and glared at her.
“I thought I told you not to follow me.” She showed her I.D. to the next set of guards at the checkpoint. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you,” he said. “I’m looking for my brother, Michael Travers.”
Her green eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What would he be doing at the boundary crossing?” she asked. “This isn’t exactly a travel destination.”
“Probably the same thing you are,” Raphael said, exasperated. “I thought you said you were looking for evidence.”
“Who said I’m not? You don’t know what I’m doing,” Catherine said, before quickly lowering her voice. “Unless you’ve read my mind.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to read your mind to know what you’re up to. It’s written clearly on your little cherub face.”
Raphael pulled out his I.D. He had expected to have time to return to Nuria to retrieve supplies before crossing into no-man’s-land, but Catherine had blown that plan into space. Now he’d have to buy what he needed from the trader store and they always marked things up.
She shook her head. “You’re seeing things that aren’t there,” she said.
“Am I?” he asked, ushering her forward.
“Yep.”
“Fine, have it your way.” Raphael exposed his neck to the scanner. Two beeps later he was walking down the long gray, sparsely lit corridor that would eventually open up into no-man’s-land. Catherine strode in front of him, her pack swaying from side to side like stacked plates ready to fall.
“It seems to me,” he said, breaking the silence, “that we’d probably get a lot further if we worked together.”
“I told you I’d keep our bargain and I meant it,” she said. “I don’t need your help.”
“I have no doubt that’s true, but I could use your help finding my brother. You must have met him when you went to Roark’s office.”
Catherine stopped dead and her shoulders tensed. “He showed Bannon and me into a waiting room. I never saw him after that. He certainly wasn’t there when we left. Do you think he had anything to do with drugging us?” she asked casually, but Raphael heard the apprehension in her voice.
“No,” he said. “I’m sure that was all Roark.”
There was no doubt in Raphael’s mind that had Michael participated in something like that he would’ve let Raphael know. That knowledge should’ve stopped doubt cold, but it kept crawling forward, whispering insidiously in the back of his mind.
“Why would he be in no-man’s-land?” she asked. Catherine’s expression told him she hadn’t quite believed his assurances.
“That’s what I’m here to find out,” he said.
Raphael dropped into the outfitting shop and picked up a pack, canteens, food, a tent, industrial-grade sunscreen, and protective clothing. His credit account took a major hit, thanks to Catherine’s impromptu trip, but it was necessary.
He could stay out in the sun fairly long for a vamp, but he didn’t think he’d make it all day. He did have his limits, although Raphael rarely copped to them.
Despite all her protests, Catherine had followed him into the store and was browsing the items. She picked up a hat and an extra canteen.
He noticed that she bypassed the tents, so either she had one in that enormous pack of hers or she didn’t anticipate being out here long.
It was too much to hope that she planned to share his tent with him. Raphael had never cared for camping, but he could get used to it if Catherine were his tent mate. He looked at her as he considered the possibility.
She scowled back.
Perhaps it would be better if they had their own space.
Catherine hadn’t told him what she was doing here. Sure she’d mentioned getting permission from the commander of IPTT, but permission for what? It was one thing to look for proof, quite another to pursue fugitives.
Raphael didn’t know what Catherine planned to do once she caught up with Morgan and Red. It was just one more reason he needed to go with her. He shoved his overpriced supplies into his pack and stared longingly at Catherine’s bare neck. Just looking at her stoked his hunger.
What he wouldn’t give for a canteen full of blood. Thanks to the need she evoked, he’d finished all but the last of his supply on the ride down here. His one blood bag wouldn’t last long in the heat. Hell at this rate, he wouldn’t make it out of here before he devoured it.
Catherine tipped her head and he glimpsed his teeth marks on the side of her nape. They looked more like love bites in this artificial lighting.
Raphael licked his lips as his incisors lengthened and the material on the front of his pants strained. He’d just have to improvise, when it came to feeding. The thought of what that would entail had his temperature rising.
She caught him looking at her and flushed bright pink. Obviously his expression had been patently transparent.
“All done,” Raphael said.
“About time,” she countered.
He laughed. “I didn’t realize you were waiting for me. Had I known, I would’ve hurried,” Raphael said to get a rise out of her, since her actions had been blatantly obvious. “I take it you’ve reconsidered my offer.”
She shrugged. “We can travel together and hope to find your brother along the way, but we go in the direction I want,” she said. “No arguments.”
“Of course,” Raphael agreed, since they’d be heading in the direction he needed to go. That didn’t stop him from hoping he was wrong about Michael. Maybe Roark had sent him somewhere else. The man had a lot of enemies. It would explain his brother’s absence.
Even as the thought flitted through Raphael’s head, it was unlikely.
He hoisted the pack onto his back and indicated for Catherine to lead the way. She did, but stopped when they reached the final gate. There she hesitated.
“Having second thoughts?” he asked, in hopes she’d call the whole thing off.
“No, just adjusting my pack.” Catherine made a show of shifting her pack, then she stepped forward and pressed a button on the wall. Nothing happened for a second so she pressed it again harder.
“Give it time. You are so impatient, my little storm,” Raphael said. “Don’t you know good things come to those who wait? Besides, the sun will be up soon. We’ll have to camp at the crossing until dark.”
Catherine rolled her eyes. “Shut up, cliché man. It’s your fault that we aren’t on our way already.”
The final door slid open with a hiss. A blast of warmth greeted them with a dry embrace. The gaping maw that was the endless desert stretched out before them, waiting to swallow them whole. There were so many directions to go in. They could be anywhere.
Raphael tried to ignore Catherine’s delicious scent as they proceeded into the fleeting darkness. It was difficult given the lack of distracting odors. The sand gave under his booted feet. This would not be an easy journey—his gaze fell upon his petite traveling companion—for either of them.
Good thing she had a day to reconsider her folly.
Chaos felt him watching her. Raphael did that a lot. She didn’t know if he was waiting for her to attack again or if he was sizing her up as a snack. She didn’t want to think that it might be sexual. It was hard enough walking this close to him without her body betraying her at every turn.
They waited at the gate for the rest of the night and all through the next day. There’d been nothing to do but sleep and talk. Raphael had regaled her with stories from his childhood. He’d charmed her, weakening her resolve to keep her distance.
It took forever for the sun to set. Even after the fiery ball sunk below the horizon, it was still unbearably hot. The heat didn’t seem to affect him like it did her. Chaos was already sweating and they’d only been walking a few minutes. She’d be a puddle by the time an hour had passed.
It didn’t help that her pack weighed a ton. She’d wanted to be prepared, so she’d requisitioned everything required for outdoor survival. Chaos had no idea what they might encounter on this side of the boundary fence, but she was determined to be ready for anything.
Her hand moved to the pistol strapped to her thigh. Its weight was reassuring. In the distance, a big cat yowled. The hair on her neck prickled.
She glanced back at Raphael to make sure he was still there. He was, but his expression remained deceptively placid. So either he hadn’t heard the cat or he wasn’t bothered by its presence.
Fine, two could play that game. Chaos straightened her pack and kept her hand on her weapon as she scanned the area around them. She wasn’t afraid of any animal, even one that might turn out to be four feet high and five hundred pounds.
The lights from the checkpoint were a dim memory glittering in the distance. If a predator lurked behind a dune there was no way they’d make it back to the gates before it attacked. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. No reason to be concerned. It was more afraid of them than they were of it.
Raphael touched Chaos and she jumped, letting out a startled yelp.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said.
“You didn’t,” she shot back. “What do you want?”
His lip canted, but he didn’t contradict her. “I wanted to tell you that the cat we heard earlier is stalking us from the west.”
Chaos spun around so fast the weight of her pack teetered, sending her crashing into the dune. She struggled out of the straps and came up with her pistol in her hand. “Where? Do you see it?” She tried to look everywhere at once.
Raphael laughed and couldn’t seem to stop. His shoulders shook and he clutched his stomach.
“What’s so funny?” Chaos glared at him, giving Raphael her best withering glance.
“You.” He pressed his lips together, trying to keep from laughing again. He didn’t succeed.
Chaos brushed her clothes off. “You said a cat was stalking us. I don’t think that’s a laughing matter.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “You should’ve seen yourself, jerking your gun this way and that way. I’m lucky you didn’t shoot me.”
“I wanted to be ready,” she ground out through clenched teeth.
“It would help if you were facing the right direction,” he said, casually pointing to a spot over her shoulder.
Chaos turned and searched the darkness for movement.
“You need not worry,” Raphael said. His lips brushed her ear, sending goose-bumps down her spine.
Chaos hadn’t even heard him move, his footfalls were so silent. Like the cat that was determined to have them as a meal.
“I will not let the feline touch you. You are mine—to eat,” he said.
Heat flooded Chaos’ face as his words singed the panic out of her mind. She shivered and swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his black gaze.
He was smiling at her, his white teeth glowing in the darkness. At that moment, she didn’t know which was the more dangerous predator, the cat or Raphael.
“Don’t make me shoot you,” she warned. “I only agreed to allow you to tag along because you said we were headed in the same direction. I can easily change my mind and send you on your way.”
Raphael snorted. “Whatever you say, little storm.”
“Let’s get moving before the cat gets any closer.” Chaos lifted her pack from the sand dune and brushed it off. “I’d hate to have to kill it.”
“You are absolutely right.” Raphael dropped his pack and raced to the ridge of a nearby dune so quickly she barely tracked his movements. When he reached the top, he slowly turned his head to the west.
He must’ve spotted his target, because he stopped moving. A rumble rose from inside of him, building in ferocity. When he released it, the sound came out as a primal roar.
Chaos heard a feline’s answering snarl closer than she would’ve cared for it to be. Raphael spread his arms wide and hissed, exposing long, sharp fangs. There was another yowl, but this one seemed less sure than the previous one.
The cat was having second thoughts about attacking. Hell, she was having second thoughts. Raphael roared again and strode off in the direction the snarl had come from.
Chaos frowned. What was he doing now? Surely he wasn’t crazy enough to confront the animal unarmed.
He disappeared into the darkness. Chaos listened carefully, but couldn’t hear much over the pounding of her heart. She charged her weapon with the press of her thumb.
“Raphael?” she called out.
He didn’t answer.
Chaos dropped her pack and climbed to the top of the dune. It was so dark that she could barely see her hand in front of her face. Damn him.
Where had he gone? The thought that the cat might have gotten to him and dragged him off stilled her movements. The disturbing image was followed by a wave of sadness that nearly upended her.
“Raphael, this isn’t funny. Where are you?” she said in a hushed tone in case it decided to hunt her next.
She squinted into the darkness as if that would somehow help. Chaos raised her pistol and pressed a tiny button on the side of the barrel. A night-vision scope popped into place. She put her eye up to it and slowly scanned the area.
There was no movement or heat signature lingering anywhere. For a second, she couldn’t breathe. Her hand went to her chest as she tried to calm down. What if something had happened to him? What if she never saw him again? Panic and something akin to fear overwhelmed her.
“Where are you damn it?” Her voice broke. She swallowed back the sudden grief.
“It’s nice to know you missed me,” the whisper was so soft it barely registered.
When Chaos did, anger flooded her. She spun around and slammed her tiny fist into his face. The punch must have caught him off guard because Raphael rocked back on his heels and fell onto the sand.
Chaos leaned over his prone body and jabbed a finger in his chest. “Don’t ever do that again. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, ma petite,” he said. Not even the blood on his lip could detract from the stupid grin he wore on his handsome face.
“What are you smiling about?” Chaos snarled, getting madder by the second. She’d been so scared that she’d lost him it hadn’t crossed her mind that he might be playing with her.
“You wouldn’t have hit me if you didn’t care.” He stood gracefully and brushed off his clothes.
“You’re making too much out of it,” she said, hoping to misdirect him. “I just didn’t want to have to fill out a report listing cause of death as cat food.”
“If you say so.” The smile refused to leave Raphael’s face. In a flash of anger, she’d as good as shouted her feelings for him.
“I swear.” Chaos growled, her fists clenching at her sides. “If the cat doesn’t get you next time, I will.”
Chapter 12
Somehow he’d lost a day, sleeping in the half-shadow of the rock. The sun had drained Michael more than he realized. Without the sunlight, he could move more quickly. Not that the sand sucking at his shoes helped. He’d emptied them twice already, but had finally given up on ever getting the tiny granules out of his socks.
A slight breeze picked up from the south. It wasn’t cool, but it did relieve the stifling heat that the still air created. Michael moved steadily, trying to sense Red and Morgan. He hadn’t picked up their scent, but was convinced they’d come this way.
Going to either coast was useless. Nothing survived near the poisoned seas. The boundary fence lay to the north, which left only one direction: south. Roark was convinced they’d gone to no-man’s-land. Their desperation was even greater than Michael’s if they had.
Deciding to give it a few more days, he trudged on. Michael scanned the dunes for any sign of life. Nothing moved but the sand, forever shifting and reshaping, erasing all trace of those who dared tread upon it. Seas of beige cascading waves, tumbling, tumbling down.
A mile farther Michael came upon a pack of wild dogs eating what appeared to be a small deer. It was only when he got closer that Michael realized it was a child, not a doe, wrapped in brown clothing, its tiny limbs ripped from its body and spread across the desert floor.
His senses went into overdrive. If a child was here, then that meant people couldn’t be far away. Michael picked up his pace, the thought of fresh blood driving him.
Licking his dry lips, he skirted by the ravenous pack. If the kill hadn’t been old, he would’ve joined in on the feast or taken it from them. Nothing like a feeding frenzy to remind him that he was alive.
It took another four and a half hours, but eventually Michael stumbled upon what looked to be a nomadic settlement—tents huddled in the middle of a rise surrounded by a flaming moat.
