The Killing Season (17 page)

“Is there anything we can do?” Ollie asked.

“Sometimes he reverts back to those punishments.” Luke lifted a shoulder, looking as helpless as me. “There’s nothing to do but let him wear out.”

“Will he be okay like this?” Ollie asked.

Without answering her, he turned his attention to me, his eyes grave, and, seeing the sadness there, I pictured him and Hatter as little boys, two lost souls sent to fight much too young. “He’s only going to get worse, Sunny,” he said quietly, speaking to me like no one else was in the room. It was the first time he’d ever really said anything just to me, and I wanted to scream at him to shut up. “He can’t be cured, and eventually the saliva is going to drive him insane.”

I flinched, startled by his words. “Insane? What do you mean? How do you know?”

“He gets a little worse each time.”

“Surely it’ll plateau at some point,” I argued, growing angry in the face of Luke’s acceptance.

“At some point,” Luke said, “he’ll stay like this permanently. His last years will be torture unless a ’swang kills him.”

“Luke,” Ollie said sharply. “Don’t.”

He glanced at her, that horrible acceptance still in his eyes. “She deserves to know.”

“I want to know.” I stood up straighter and pushed away from Ollie. I walked around them, careful of the pages, and stood as close to Hatter as possible without upsetting him. He ignored us like we weren’t even there.

“Sunny . . .” Ollie begged me with her eyes to drop it, but I’d hidden from so much during my life. I wasn’t turning my back on this. Hatter was mine, I knew it in my heart the first time I saw him at the university. I sat alone in the cafeteria on my first day, months before Ollie came. He’d walked in with a group of hunters, Luke included. There had been a power about him, a lethality, that terrified me, like all the hunters normally did. Then he’d laughed and smiled, wearing his neon headphones around his neck and his typical snapback hat. Even with his scars, he’d exuded a warmth, a brightness. That day, he’d made me think we had a chance, that my brother hadn’t died in vain, if hunters still walked around laughing and smiling.

“Tell me,” I said through gritted teeth, remembering the man he’d been in the cafeteria.

“That’s how he wants to go,” Luke said. Ollie looked away, shaking her head. “Quick and fast. He made me promise if it doesn’t happen before he gets like this . . .” He swallowed and tried again. “If he can’t pull himself out of it, he made me promise to kill him. And, Sunny, I’ll do it. He’s my best friend and he doesn’t deserve to go out that way. When the day comes, I’ll do it. You need to know.”

“You’d kill him?” My voice trembled. I looked down at Hatter, where he sat scribbling at my feet.

This close, I heard him as he mumbled the words over and over. “I do not scream. I do not cry. I do not hide from the dark. I’m brave and strong and fearless.”

“I will do whatever he asks,” Luke said. “He’s saved my life more times than I can count. And not just when we were hunting. I owe him everything.” As he spoke, his eyes ventured over to Ollie, and I wondered just how much Hatter had helped him. There was something new and bright in Luke’s eyes when he looked at Ollie, something I hadn’t seen before, and I knew. They loved each other. Hatter had clearly helped build the man Luke was today. Had helped lift him up enough that Luke could find his way out of his childhood.

But who had helped Hatter?

Like he read my thoughts, Luke said, “He’s a broken man, Sunny. You can’t save him. This is his future. There’s too much saliva in his veins now to stop it even if he never hunted again. Trust me,” his voice turned thick and Ollie took a step toward him, “trust me, I’ve tried to make him stop long before he got to this point. But those people, his parents, they twisted him up like this, made him believe this is all he could ever be.”

“No,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. Not in defeat, but resolve. I may be the Cowardly Lyon but Hatter did not scare me. His mania didn’t scare me.

“Sunny—”

“Just leave!” I shouted, making Hatter flinch. He ripped a page in half and started on a new one.

I turned away from them, but not before I saw Ollie nod at Luke. A moment later, the door closed quietly behind them. I stared at Hatter, willing the tears to stop, until my cheeks were dry and he’d flung more inked-up pages around us like snowflakes.

I’d believed in Fear University my entire life. My brothers had graduated with honor and pride, willing to serve in the war and die. I kept the tears at bay thinking of Seth. He’d been so young, so optimistic. When he’d died, our family hadn’t mourned in the traditional sense because his life and service had been more than that. He’d given his body to save us. Like every hunter did. Their deaths were a celebration.

But looking at Hatter now, I wondered about a system that fostered such twisted, warped beliefs. Killian had once been the pride of Fear University. The Aultstrivers were known for their harsh form of raising children, long before Luke was born. Killian’s father raised him the same way Killian raised Luke; it had been going on for generations. Hatter’s family might have been new to the hunters, but they were just as bad. The cycle never ended unless the children broke it.

But how could they find their way out of the darkness when their parents had taken all the lights?

It was wrong and suddenly I hated this world we were forced to live in.

I crouched beside Hatter, moving slowly so I didn’t startle him, and gently took his free hand. He didn’t seem to mind as I twined my fingers through his. My thumb stroked long, slow sweeps over the back of his hand.

I wanted nothing more than to save him, to bring him back from this, but if Luke was right, I couldn’t. And maybe this was Hatter’s fate. But if so, I would follow him down his path, whatever it might be. I would stay with him step for step, because I was right that first day in the cafeteria. He was mine.

I would ride to the end of the line with him if I had to.

As quietly as I could, I started telling him the stories Gran had told me as a child, the ones that were more like nightmares than fairy tales. But unlike the fairy tales most children normally heard at bedtime, my grandmother’s stories always had a young princess conquering the demons, the monsters, of the story. In my halting, uncertain Filipino, I started with the first story I remembered, changing the princess to a prince in my version.

We sat together for a while, but between the stories and the words, Hatter scooted closer to me until our hips and legs touched. Eventually, his head came to rest on my shoulder, his exhaustion taking over though he still kept writing, and I bore his weight. Still holding his free hand, I rubbed my other one up and down his back, along his neck, and through the strands of his wild hair. My touch didn’t slow him down, but he didn’t push me away again.

So I did what little I could. It wasn’t much, and it didn’t help. But if I could hold up some of his weight while he fought his demons then I would gladly do it.

When morning broke and people stirred outside his room, he was asleep against my chest, his body sprawled across my lap. I cradled his head in my arms, rocking him gently, my voice silent though my lips still formed the words to the stories.

We didn’t move until Luke came to get Hatter for the day’s hunt. Like he was a broken child, Luke helped him up, helped him get dressed and strap on his gear. Ollie came back too, and together we sat on the bed, watching our men prepare, wondering if today would be the day they died.

Before they left, Luke met my gaze and softly said, “I won’t let anything happen to him, I promise.”

But he didn’t look much stronger than Hatter.

Ollie walked out with them and softly closed the door behind her. Only when I was alone did I allow myself to cry.

* * *

I arrived late to Nyny’s lab, dressed in my warm outside gear. Wearing solid black, Ollie stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, waiting for me with two coffee thermoses in her hands. If she noticed my puffy eyes and red nose, she didn’t comment. Instead she just handed over a coffee and took a long sip from hers.

My best friend simply cast a calm gaze on me and straightened off the wall. In all the time I’d known Ollie, she’d never really touched me willingly, but she pulled me into a hug and squeezed tight. “We’ll make it,” she whispered. “I promise you.”

I didn’t like Ollie making promises. Most people who promised things didn’t really mean them. They were pretty words without much intention. But with Ollie, I knew her promises were real live, vicious things. Her promises were threats to anyone who stood in her way of keeping them. What she would have to do to keep that promise chilled me. I couldn’t lose anyone else.

Just then the lab door swung open and Nyny skidded out, balancing a to-go tray full of coffees, a large messenger bag slung over her shoulder, and a box under one arm. She’d swept her long lavender hair up into a tangled bun on top of her head with a few forgotten strands tumbling loose over her shoulders. An impression of a pen blazed bright red on her pale cheek like she’d fallen asleep at her desk, and an unlit cigarette dangled out of the corner of her mouth. She kicked the lab door closed and said, “You two are late. We’ve got to get a move on. Here, hold this, will you?”

She shoved the box at Ollie, who took it with a clenched jaw. “We brought our own coffee,” she said, jerking her chin toward Nyny’s tray.

“Good. These are all for me. Why in the world would I bring you coffee?” She didn’t wait for a response before striding down the hall, her bag slipping down her shoulder, bun bouncing on top of her head.

“She’s something,” Ollie muttered under her breath. When I didn’t answer, she shot a worried glance at me. “You ready?” she asked.

I shrugged. “Sure.”

“You can stay here. I’ll help Nyny.”

“I can do it, Ollie.” As soon as I said the words, guilt twisted through my empty stomach and I wanted to cry. Just as fast, I added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I mean, I
can
do it. But I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“I get it.” She smiled at me, like my anger didn’t even bother her. I’d noticed how she expected abuse more than friendliness the first day I met her. I bit my lip and nodded at her.

We caught back up to Nyny in the entrance. She was busy trying to get the first interior door to open while Thad stood behind her with his arms crossed. He looked back over his shoulder when we came down the stairs, our footsteps echoing through the empty entry. As Ollie watched her feet on the steps, Thad stared at her with an intensity I hadn’t seen before. His lightly colored eyes blazed with certainty, and his jaw was set in a tight, hard line, his mouth a grim slash across his face. I slowed a little, falling behind Ollie as I studied his face. His expression looked like he was preparing himself for something, and I didn’t like it one bit.

Nyny finally got the door open, mumbling about next-gen tech, and swept outside, not bothering to check for ’swangs. Thad peeled his gaze off Ollie and hurried after Nyny, gun raised. I put my hand on Ollie’s shoulder to make her stop before we went outside.

“We need to be careful.”

Ollie glanced around, surprised at my subvert tone. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m getting a bad feeling.”

Her brows rose. She knew about my beliefs—my superstitions, she called them—but she never questioned them. “A ‘perausog’ bad feeling?”

“Maybe.”

Without hesitating, Ollie nodded. “Let me know if the feeling gets stronger. Here, I brought these just in case.” She handed over my belt of throwing knives. “You can hide them under your jacket.” To illustrate her point, she lifted her own puffy jacket. She’d tucked her sting whip’s handle into her snow pants with the length of the whip wrapped tightly around her waist.

“Where did you get these?”

“Luke took them from the armory after Sin’s murder. We aren’t supposed to be armed so don’t let anyone see them unless it’s an emergency.”

“Okay.” I clipped the leather belt around my waist, hitching it up to hide beneath my jacket. The weight was slight, but it reassured me. The throwing knives had always been my best weapon. Though slim and small, they packed a good punch if they hit the right spot. While I wasn’t the best throw in my advanced weapons class, I could hit all the vital areas without much issue.

When we went outside for the first time in almost two weeks, I stumbled to a stop. Beside me, Ollie blinked in confusion. It was late morning, but the sky was inky black and full of teeming, low-hanging clouds that churned and roiled in warning of the coming storm. Around us, the frozen tundra was cloaked in dense shadows. No sun. No light but the floodlights beaming down on us from the roof. Instead of a lighthearted breeze blowing across the frozen lakes, guns clicked above my head, scanning the shadows.

“Fuck,” Ollie said under her breath.

Nyny and Thad stood by a pair of snowmobiles with small sleds attached behind them. The sleds carried more of Nyny’s supplies, which all had to be strapped down with heavy ropes. All around them, the snow was pressed down and dirtied by heavy boots where the hunters had left earlier that morning.

Unwillingly, my eyes scanned the vast openness around us. Anything could be out there. Everything probably was. We were, after all, in the ’swangs’ territory now. The press of the unnatural darkness and the clicking of guns above my head made me feel like prey. Out here, this far north, we were low on the food chain and so very, very not alone.