Bound (2 page)

Silence fell over us for a brief second, the men around us holding their breath in a collective gasp. Vincent stared up at me from the ground, his eyes full of hatred, and then slowly stood, his movements stilted with barely controlled anger.

“Marks,” he motioned Mr. Army over. “Get everyone on the truck; we’ve got to head back with the supplies and the prisoners.”

Marks nodded, saluted and started to shout orders.

“You’ll pay for that bitch,” Vincent said, as he dusted his pants off.

“Bring it,” I hissed at him. There was no way Nero would survive out there, not with the pack and Bob on the loose. The desire to hit him a second time reared its head and I tightened my hand into a fist.

“Get her in the truck!” Marks snapped and the men jumped, hustling me to the back of the army vehicle. I pulled my arms free of the men escorting me, though I suppose they let me go. With a flurry of hands I was shoved up next to Sebastian behind the cab of the truck. The other men settled in a few feet away, leaving us to sit by ourselves, which was fine by me. I pulled his head into my lap and pressed my hand against the gunshot wound, applying pressure as best I could. He let out a low moan and I whispered soft nothings to him, the sound of my voice keeping him calm.

Marks jumped into the back of the truck, the flap of material giving me the last glance at our farm. He stared at me and Sebastian, a look of derision evident on his face.

“What’s it like having sex with a monster?” He asked, his lips curled with disdain.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your father?” I snapped back.

There was dead silence, then the laughter started as the other men guffawed at Marks’ expense, the noise quickly filling the back of the truck.

“She got you there Marks.”

“Damn that’s some sass for a woman this far out. You remember the last gal we brought in? Pulled most of her hair out . . .”

“Not to mention she was a raving lunatic.”

“What was it she said was stuck in her head?”

“Bees, she was screaming about bees in her head she couldn’t get out.” Laughter rippled around the truck again and I ignored it, focusing on the fact that Sebastian was still breathing, slow and steady, the blood clotting on his chest wound.

“Don’t worry about him,” a new voice said. I glanced over my shoulder; it was the young man who’d been chasing Nero.

“I’m Burns by the way. Sergeant Burns. I was looking after your dog for you,” he said, his words sincere, his face open and very honest looking.

“You didn’t do a very good job did you?” Burns had the decency to blush and duck his head.

“As soon as he heard your voice he took off on me. I didn’t expect it, I’m sorry,” he said.

I was surprised by his apology, “Thank you.”

“Don’t apologize to the prisoners Burns,” Marks snapped. Burns retreated and I went back to crooning to Sebastian. I didn’t bother to ask where we were going, it didn’t really matter. We were captives, trapped and soon to be under lock and key. The only good thing was that Sebastian and I were still together; I wondered how long it would last.

A half hour into our drive the truck began to slow and I thought we’d arrived at our destination. Maybe Comox and the air force bunkers there? That was a possibility. Then hands were reaching into the back of the moving truck, Nevermores running at top speed, howling at us as they tried to drag men from the back. I scrunched up tight against Sebastian; even though we were up against the cab, I still had visions of being pulled out. I didn’t think these men would stop to try and help me either.

“Shoot them,” Marks said and the men pulled back the flap and open fired on the Nevermores.

Something slammed into the side of the truck and I had no doubt what it was. A pack was trying to get into the truck and all the “food” it carried. A second slam rocked the vehicle and the driver picked up speed again.

“Keep shooting boys,” Marks commanded, and they eagerly did as he said.

A hand shot into the back of the truck, fast like lightning, and grasped the leg of the closest soldier, yanking him out with a scream.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming myself. The truck never slowed and the other men barely reacted. If they wouldn’t look out for their own, I had no doubt that I was going to be in some serious trouble.

Silence surrounded the truck as quickly as the Nevermores had, the pack chasing us obviously given up their quest with the prize they’d managed to snag.

I pressed my face against Sebastian’s and took slow even breaths. There was no way I could do this without him, even though so much of who he had been was lost. “Hang on love,” I whispered. “Just hang on.”

3

“We’re here,” Marks said as he stood up. We’d been driving for a little over an hour. He pushed the flap cover of the truck back, tying it to the side. The bright sunlight blinded me after the dim grey interior of the truck for so long. Hands grabbed me and pulled me out; Sebastian grunted and then snapped at someone, and the distinct thud of a rifle butt hitting a skull resounded in the truck.

“Stop hitting him!” I said, twisting hard and trying to free myself from the hands that gripped my arms.

“Those bastards heal faster than any human; he won’t even have the gunshot wound to worry about in a couple of hours,” Vincent said, as he watched us disembark, his gun in his hand.

“Where are we?” I finally asked. I could see trees, a huge tall fence with razor wire around the top and some sort of wooden buildings that could be barracks. On three sides of the fence were packs of Nevermores, keeping their distance but still making sure to be within sight. It was no different than at the farm; they were waiting for their next meal to step outside the fence. I shivered; there had been moments on the ride here I’d convinced myself it would be better, safer, wherever it was the soldiers were taking me.

I turned a full circle and found myself staring out across the water of the Georgia Straight and what was left of Nanaimo, one of the major cities on Vancouver Island. That is if you considered a population of eighty thousand people major.

“The Diefenbaker bunker,” Marks said, putting his hand on my arm, his fingers digging into my skin. I didn’t understand why until I saw the other men dragging Sebastian away from me, towards a door seemingly in the mound of a hill.

I cradled my belly with one hand and tried to pull myself free. “Don’t separate us. Please,” I said. “I’m pregnant; I don’t want to stress the baby.” I looked up into Marks’ face and saw the softening I’d hoped for. Maybe he didn’t like the fact that Sebastian was a Nevermore, but he didn’t seem to be a complete ass.

Vincent frowned, then a slow smile made its way across his face and I had a feeling I was about to pay for humiliating him in front of his men. He motioned to Marks.

“Take her to the upper barracks; we don’t have room in the bunker at the moment.” Vincent pointed to the wooden structures to the left. Marks let out a low sigh and started towards the buildings.

Marks put me in the first barracks and shut the door, but not before he gave me some advice.

“Don’t piss him off. Vincent is not the kind of man you want to take on Mara. He will destroy everything you love just to make a point.”

“Thanks for the warning,” I said. The door clicked shut and I was alone.

I frowned and rubbed my hands over my face. These men held not only my life in their hands, but Sebastian’s too. I would have to do my best to behave, to get close to Bastian again. I looked over the room. Sparse was an understatement. There was a small cot with a thin blanket. That was it. Cement floors, a barred window with no glass and solid wood panelling surrounded me. I walked to the window and stared out just in time to see Sebastian get dragged to the large grassy covered mound. A flurry of activity and then it opened up, the doorway leading into what I assumed was the bunker.

“Crap, this is not going to be easy to get out of.”

I said the words and then really considered what I was saying. Did I actually think I could get the two of us out of here?

I placed my hands on the bars, the cold and slightly rusted metal a grounding sensation. We were surrounded by armed men who were some sort of militia who had guns and weapons, not to mention an enormous fence, which was in turn monitored by at least three Nevermore packs. And not a single soul to help me.

Tears threatened at the hoplessness of the situation but I pushed them back, swallowing the thickness that tightened my throat. Poor Nero was dead, Sebastian was locked away from me, wounded and alone, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about any of it. I hiccupped a sob back. Crying wouldn’t do me any good. I blinked away the mist filming over my eyes and stared out the window, not sure if what I was seeing was a hallucination or reality.

From below the army truck we’d come in on, a familiar figure dropped to the ground. He scuttled along the grass, lifting his nose every once in a while to scent the air. Following his nose brought him straight to the window I stared out of. He stood, smiling at me from the other side, his scrawny body battered from the ride he’d endured in the undercarriage of the truck. Apparently Sebastian and I had inspired some serious loyalty in at least one member of the pack.

I smiled and gripped the bars a little tighter, my nerves good, but I still didn’t entirely trust him; he was, after all, a Nevermore.

“Scout, how the hell are we going to get out of this mess?”

4

Scout smiled back, then spun, a noise I couldn’t hear alerting him. He tapped on my hand gripping the bar then scurried off around the side of the building to hide. A moment later the mound opened up and people poured out of the bunker.

The men lined up, rifles loose and at the ready; a bound woman was dragged forward and tied to a post against the high fence.

“They wouldn’t,” I whispered. I couldn’t hear the commands given, but as the men raised their rifles I whispered, “Ready.” I waited a heartbeat and the tension rose, “Aim.” Another heartbeat and the woman began to thrash within her bonds, “Fire.”

Even knowing it was going to happen didn’t prepare me for the boom of ten rifles going off at one time. The woman’s body jerked and jumped, blooms of red spreading from her legs up to her forehead.

I swallowed hard, nausea making me weak at the knees, and I slid down the wall with my head against it. Was that how they made room for the new people? My gorge rose at the thought that my presence had somehow caused the woman’s death. I had to get out of here; this was worse than we’d ever had it at the farm. I had Scout now and surely I could use him, if he didn’t try and attack me, that is. I backed away from the window and lay down on the cot, my hand over the small bump on my belly. I had to find a way to protect myself, Sebastian, and our child.

“Think girl, you’re smarter than a bunch of noodle-headed army brats.” I thought about all the possibilities, scenarios that could be, might be, and would never be.

I stood and paced the small room, the air warm and musty despite the perpetually open window, the scents tickling my nose and making me sneeze. Rubbing my face I looked down at my clothes covered in Sebastian’s blood. There had to be a way for me to get into the bunker and close to Sebastian. From there we could find our way out. I had to believe the lies I was telling myself.

A knock startled me and I jumped, my heart racing, adrenaline suddenly surging through me.

“Mara, it’s Sergeant Burns. I have some water and some bread for you.”

My mouth ached at the thought of carby, starchy, white, fluffy bread. “Come in,” I said and again looked down at my blood stained clothes. Burns came in, ducking his head and blushing a little. I had an idea, a light bulb moment that might give me a way out of here. If I could manage it.

Seduction was not something that came easy to me, it never had. During our courtship, Sebastian pursued me, not the other way around. Who was I kidding? I was pregnant, at least ten years older than Burn’s and to be honest, deception wasn’t something I was any better at than seduction. I took a deep breath and decided the best thing I could do was be his friend and hope I could inspire some pity or compassion.