Wolfen (11 page)

The female did not.

With a snarl, she turned away and lifted her face to scent
the breeze. Her head swiveled toward the noseless one, and she
cawed
at
him. To Sinna’s shock, the male made a sound in return and headed directly
toward her. He passed not three feet in front of Sinna and Bryce, so intent on
the female, he never heard, saw, or scented them.

When he reached her, the female nuzzled him, nudged him back
in the direction they’d come. She was already following him when she suddenly
stopped and scented the air again.

This time, she pivoted and looked right at Sinna and Bryce.
A freakish snarl contorted her face as she bared her considerable fangs, and
she screeched so loudly, her body shook and Sinna’s ears hurt. Glass windows
cracked, making Sinna flinch, but she held still. Bryce didn’t give her any
choice. When the screeching stopped, the feeding converts flanked the female,
flexing their claws and tilting their heads toward Sinna and Bryce.

But they didn’t attack; they waited. And the female stood
shielding the damaged male, staring Sinna and Bryce down.

That was when Bryce moved. He took a slow, cautious step
back, making Sinna stumble to keep up. Another step, and another… Almost to the
next yard… And all the while, the female watched them. When they crossed the
property line, Bryce quickly spun Sinna around and rushed her away. They cleared
the distance in seconds, and it would have been less if Bryce hadn’t kept
looking behind them. Sinna didn’t dare; she didn’t want to see if they were
being followed.

Aiden met them in the kitchen, and closed and locked the
glass door behind them, scanning the yard for movement. He had his gun in hand,
but wasn’t rushing out there to use it. “Someone want to explain what the fuck
that noise was?”

“Converts,” Sinna said, breathing hard.

“Yeah, thanks, I got that. B, what’s going on?”

He looked at Sinna, then shook his head at Aiden.

The blond brother looked ready to throttle him. “Get your
shit together, we’re leaving.”

Sinna had never seen anyone move so fast. She blinked, and Bryce
was gone, running up the stairs, while Aiden grabbed her arm and dragged her
across the living room and out the front door. He herded her into the
weird-looking vehicle and slammed the door in her face. From inside, she
watched as the brothers readied for battle.

Aiden popped open a compartment in the back. She couldn’t
see inside but got a fair idea of its contents when Aiden started pulling out
weapons—lots and lots of weapons. He donned a full-body harness that
crisscrossed his back and wrapped around his arms and legs, straps covered with
small sheaths for knives. It held a series of gun holsters together at his
sides, and had a large loop to hold a shotgun at his back. Aiden loaded
everything but the back loop with the cold efficiency of someone used to
fighting for his life. Rambo had nothing on this guy.

Then Bryce came out with a large duffel bag slung over his
shoulder. He was such a contrast to Aiden, Sinna found it hard to believe they
were related. Aiden was light, silver, and attitude; he shone in the night with
all of his polished chains, like some sort of avenging angel ready to bring the
wrath of God. Bryce was his antithesis; he was the thing that lurked in
shadows, unseen, until it jumped out and tore your face off.

Bryce exchanged the duffel for another full-body harness and
a glare from Aiden. He armed himself to the teeth. But to Sinna’s surprise,
instead of a shotgun holster, his back straps had scabbards attached. The real
kind for actual swords. Bryce pulled the blades out of another compartment and
sheathed one from the top and one from the bottom on the other side.

“You know how I feel about bringing knives to a gunfight,”
Aiden told him.

“Yeah,” Bryce replied in that scratchy voice of his. “And
what happens when you run out of bullets, genius?”

“I liked you better when you didn’t talk.”

Sinna scowled at that.

Aiden tossed the duffel onto the back seat, closed and
latched all of the compartments, then got behind the wheel. The truck dipped
when he sat, and jerked when Bryce jumped onto the back.

“Isn’t he coming in, too?” she said.

“No,” Aiden replied. “He’s the lookout, I’m the driver.”

“But he’s completely exposed out there!”

“Gotta be, little bit. Someone needs to be my eyes. But
don’t worry, he’ll see them long before they see him. Now for you…” He looked
her over, tilting his head left and right in deliberation. Then he detached a
handgun from his harness and gave it to her. “That should keep you.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “In case you forgot, the last
time didn’t work out so well for me.”

“We don’t have time for you to be difficult right now, okay?
It’s just a precaution, nothing more. You have me, and you have Bryce. But in
case something happens to us, or if we get separated, you need a way to defend
yourself.”

“You said yourself bullets don’t kill them!”

“They might not kill, but they sure are good at making a
bloody mess. Converts are carnivores, little bit. Giving them a source of meat
other than yourself could mean the difference between walking away, and being
an entrée. Now stop arguing and take it.” He tossed the weapon into her lap and
focused on getting the truck back onto the road.

The ride wasn’t smooth.

It wasn’t Aiden’s fault; he navigated expertly, swerving
around debris and potholes, but with the roads so damaged, it felt like riding
inside an animal with an uneven gait. The whole truck jerked and jumped,
tossing her like a sack of potatoes, and by the time they’d left the
neighborhood and found a wider street, the half can of beans was climbing back
up her throat. She stubbornly clenched her teeth and swallowed back the nausea,
refusing to waste a single morsel of what she’d ingested. It wasn’t easy. Each
hard turn Aiden took lurched Sinna in her seat, and she had to force herself to
breathe through her nose.

“Where are we going?” she asked, breaking into a cold sweat.
The window didn’t open. If she tried the door, she might fall out.

“Away from here.”

“And how much longer ‘til we get there?” Another jolt,
another spasm, and she slapped a hand over her mouth to keep everything down.

Aiden laughed. “I like your sense of humor, kid.”

So not the answer she’d been hoping for.

Aiden frowned. “What’s up, buttercup? Something wrong?”

“Can you”—
breath
—“slow down a bit?”

“That’s only gonna make the rocking worse.”

“Then speed up.”

“No can do. The mule can handle a lot of damage, but she’s
got a temper, if you know what I mean.”

The mule?
How fitting.

“Beat her up too bad, and she might just decide she’s had enough.”
He caressed the dashboard. “We wanna keep this baby running for a long time.
Don’t we, sweetheart? Yes, we do…”

He was sweet talking a truck. For a baffled minute, Sinna
almost forgot she was feeling sick. Then Aiden swerved onto a sidewalk to get
around a row of cars and hit the curb so hard, Sinna pitched forward and
slammed her head on the dash.

“Whoa! You okay?”

“Ow.”

“You gotta ride it out,” Aiden said, wriggling in some sort
of Zen-surfer hula dance. “Watch the road. Anticipate the road. Move with the
road.” He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. “Appreciate the
sweetness that is not having to walk your cute little ass all the way to
Montana.” He gave her a pointed look, adding, “You’re welcome.”

For all the jokes and silliness, Aiden never once dropped
his guard. He watched the streets like a hawk, even with Bryce acting as
lookout, and no matter how convoluted their path sometimes felt, Sinna knew he
was keeping them on course in a general easterly direction.

As far as companions went, Sinna couldn’t have found better
ones. Though nausea kept Sinna’s mouth shut, Aiden had no such issues. He
talked. A lot. He told her stories of his trip here with Bryce, and that the
entire world wasn’t dead like San Francisco. There were still plenty of places
where life thrived. Nature always found a way. He schooled her on hunting
techniques and told her how to fish in a river. In fact, he kept her so well
distracted from her misery, when the sun came out, Sinna realized she wasn’t
sick anymore. Dead tired, sure, but no longer nauseated.

They drove for hours without stopping. At first, Sinna
watched the scenery change, smiling when dead, dry grass gave way to a lush
forest and mountains. But then the effort to keep her eyes open became too
great and she drifted off, rocked to sleep in the weirdest vehicle ever
created, Aiden’s voice fading into a pleasant drone.

She woke with a start some time later to find they’d
stopped. Still shaking off the haze, Sinna sat up. They’d parked in front of a
small convenience store; more of a shack, really. There was nothing else around
except that one building and a gas pump torn out of the ground. Aiden and Bryce
were piling sticks onto a small campfire by the entrance, heads bent together,
talking quietly.

The gun was heavy in her lap. She wanted nothing to do with
it, but walking out into the open without protection was just plain stupid.
Sinna clipped the holster to her waistband, feeling like she was packing away a
live grenade, and fumbled with the truck door to get out.

The brothers looked up at her at the same time. Aiden smiled
and came over to help open the convoluted mechanism of a door, while Bryce got
the duffel out of the back.

“Hey, look who’s up,” Aiden said. “How’re you feeling,
little bit?”

“Better,” she said. “Where are we?”

He shrugged. “Who cares? We’re heading in the right
direction, that’s all that matters to me. You hungry?”

Her stomach emitted a growl so loud, she half-thought it
would echo.

Aiden grinned.

Bryce emptied the contents of the duffel onto the back seat.
He must have looted that house like there was no tomorrow. There were clothes,
a couple of towels, even a teddy bear. He’d found a bunch of cans and utensils,
too, and he’d had the foresight to pack a cooking pot.

Aiden shook his head. “You’ve got a hoarding problem, bro.”
He shouldered his way closer so he could inspect the take, and grumbled
something about pack rats and winter.

Bryce ignored him. He took the pot back to the fire, and
used a huge bowie knife to open the cans, mixing chili, beans, and sweet corn
into the pot. She watched him manipulate both knife and pot with the same
practiced efficiency. No muss, no fuss. Get the job done and move on.

“Is it safe to be cooking out here?”

Bryce shrugged.

Aiden, with his head halfway into the duffel said, “I’m not
worried.” He pulled himself out and turned to Bryce. “I can’t believe you
packed a skiing hat, but didn’t take that bottle of Jack from the kitchen
table.” He was currently wearing said hat, earflap tassels dangling. “You break
my heart, B. You break my heart.”

“I am
not
replaying last week’s Old Man River with
you,” Bryce returned, glaring daggers.

“Seriously,” Sinna interjected, “I’m not sure it’s smart to
put all of those yummy scents in the air.” But the argument held no weight at
all, not with the way she stared at the pot and tripped over the words. Her
mouth was watering and dinner hadn’t even been warmed up yet. God, it smelled
so good. She couldn’t remember when she’d last had anything other than cold
canned mush to eat. This was a total feast for the senses, and she had to
school herself not to attack that pot like a rabid animal.

“Nah, we’re good,” Aiden said, offhand. “Nature’s your
weather vane. There’s insects and bird songs here; not likely too many converts.”

Now that he mentioned it, the wild things out here
were
making an awful lot of noise. If she focused on them, the sounds got so loud,
it staggered her. Sinna hadn’t heard anything like it in far too long.

“Now cougars and bears, on the other hand…”

Sinna wasn’t listening. Bryce swirled the pot’s contents
around as he added water, and the mixture hissed and sizzled, filling the air
with a heavenly aroma that made her sway on her feet. It all felt like a dream
again. No one in his right mind would cook so much food at one time in reality.
Not in her experience, anyway. Food had to be rationed; you never knew when or
if you would find more.

What was taking so long?

“Hey.” Aiden’s voice at her ear made her start so badly, she
squealed. “You wanna go check if there are any bowls in that shack?” He sounded
oh-so amused. “Don’t worry, we won’t start without you.”

The idea of letting the pot out of her sight went against
her every instinct. Still, she nodded and forced herself inside the store to
loot for anything useful—as she should have done the moment she’d gotten out of
the truck. The promise of a hot meal made her work quickly, scanning the
shelves and racks with an expert eye.

The small store didn’t look like it had sustained much
damage, but there weren’t many useful materials—maps, dust, a handful of
bloated and ruptured prepackaged food items. That was about it. There was some
camping gear in a small, tucked-away corner, and Sinna took a drawstring pack,
loaded it with a couple of utility knives, some rain ponchos, and collapsible
plastic drinking cups. She grabbed some stainless steel eating bowls with
utensils already packed in, too. Exactly three—how lucky for them.

Bryce smiled in approval when she tossed her loot in with
everything he’d taken from the house.

Aiden was less than thrilled. “Dude, come on!”

Sinna ignored him. Back inside the store, she took the
tripod stools and strutted back out to the brothers.

Aiden stared at her as she put down the bowls and unfolded the
stools. He leaned over to Bryce and asked, “What is she doing?”

Sinna nudged him with her knee and gave him a stool to sit
on. “You wanted bowls, I did one better. We are going to eat like civilized
human beings.”

He looked at the stool as if it would bite. “I don’t need a
pointy hat.”

“Aiden, I spent way too long shoveling food into my mouth
with my fingers,” she said, brokering no arguments. “I need this. Humor me.”

“You do realize I am two hundred and seventy pounds of
muscle, and one of my ass cheeks will snap that thing in half, right?”

Bryce rolled his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He took the
stool from Sinna and gingerly sat, settling his weight on it by degrees. When
the stool didn’t break, he grinned triumphantly.

“You look ridiculous.”

Sinna had to admit, the big guy sitting on a teeny-tiny
stool did look a little silly, but at least he was off the ground, which was
the whole point. “Now you.” She handed Aiden another stool.

He huffed, he puffed, but in the end, he sat like a human
being.

Proud of her accomplishment, Sinna loaded up the bowls and
handed each of the brothers a hearty portion before serving herself.

Bryce dug right in. Aiden had to convince himself—out
loud—of the merits of this fine dining experience. Sinna let him talk and focused
on her own meal instead, closing her eyes and breathing in the aroma,
committing every detail of this to memory. The open air, the animals, the
crackling fire, even Aiden with his exposition on how cavemen had it easy,
eating mammoth meat with their bare hands.

The first spoonful was so hot, it robbed her of any sense of
taste. Sinna didn’t care. As soon as she swallowed, she became ravenous for
more, and didn’t come up for air again until her bowl had been licked clean.

“Nice,” Aiden said. “I like a girl with a healthy appetite.”
His own plate was still half full.

Sinna ducked her head to hide an embarrassed blush. So much
for eating like civilized human beings. “I haven’t eaten this well in months,”
she said.