Wolfen (27 page)

But there was no food anywhere. At least none they could
safely eat.

“Maybe we should go into town somewhere,” Sinna suggested.
“We can restock supplies, rest a little.”

“Too dangerous.”

“It’s not completely dead here. There are flowers along the
road, and I saw birds flying around. How bad can it be?”

Bryce gave her a look. “You really like tempting fate, don’t
you?”

“Well, let’s see… I came from the city, survived a bunch of
Grays—”

“Only to be almost killed by humans.”

“—I went out into the middle of nowhere, survived humans,
only to be almost killed by Grays. There’s no good answer here, Bryce.”

He said nothing. She took it as a sign he was at least
considering the possibility.

“How about we compromise?”

His jaw muscle twitched. “I’m listening.”

“We only go along the outskirts. You get to choose where,
and if you think it’s too dangerous we’ll go back. But we have to try. We can’t
keep going this way without food and water. Even you need to eat every once in
a while. And unless you know the way to Gilroy by heart, we could probably use
a map, too.”

“Fine. But I doubt there’s anything…”

As if on cue, they drove past a giant billboard advertising
a department store five minutes away in the city of Stockton.

“You see? It’s a sign.”

Bryce rolled his eyes. “This is a bad idea.”

Sinna smiled triumphantly.

He cut it damned close at the turnoff. Sinna was convinced
he would just keep going until he turned the wheel and took the off ramp headed
toward the giant blue warehouse building. He parked in front of the entrance
and sat pensively for a full ten minutes, staring through the glass walls.

After so many years, the parking lot was taken over by
weeds. Dandelions grew in profusion across the field of concrete, bunches of
them lining the building’s perimeter. It was quiet, but for the occasional buzz
of insects, but the smattering of green trees and bushes told Sinna it was a
lot safer here than some other places she’d been recently.

Stores like this had been akin to treasure, once infrastructure
had broken down, but to loot them was dangerous. Sinna knew from experience,
the farther you had to go for supplies, the less you decided you needed them.
Most people hit up the small mom-and-pop corner stores near their houses first
before venturing farther out. With so much open space around the supermarket,
coming here would’ve been either a desperate suicide run, or a stop-over on the
way out of town in a fast-moving car. Judging by the number of them stalled and
crashed on the freeway, not many had managed to get very far.

“You go where I tell you,” Bryce said. “Don’t wander off.
Look for what we need, and nothing we don’t.”

“Got it.”

He gave her a look that spoke volumes about this scavenging
mission. If it were up to him, he’d spend three days hunting pigeons and rats
to feed them both and if all they needed was food, she might have let him. But
it wasn’t, so here they were, sneaking up to the broken-out front door of a CE
landmark in case there were boogeymen sleeping behind the cash registers. Which
wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.

Inside, the cavernous chamber was a mess. Racks and shelves
had been toppled over, with shards of glass and pottery everywhere. Sinna’s
hopes plummeted at the sight of the piles of rags and debris. She’d be surprised
if any of it were still usable. “You were right. This was a bad idea.”

Bryce shrugged. “We’re here. Might as well check it out.” He
righted a cart, took her hand, and led her to a part of the dump that once upon
a time used to be the women’s clothing section. “Fill this,” he said.

Sinna stared at the cart, dumbfounded. “With what?”

“Whatever you need.”

“Shouldn’t we fill it with, I don’t know,
food
?”

“I doubt there’s going to be that much food around here.
I’ll go look, you stay right here and scream if there’s trouble, got it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He held her gaze to make sure she understood, then loped off
in search of sustenance.

Sinna sighed and toed at the rags. Slim pickings, to say the
least. What few articles had managed to survive the decades of weather, dust,
and—she shuddered—vermin, were in pretty bad shape. She did, however, find some
socks, a pair of jeans that might fit, and a small sleeping shirt just short
enough on her to be usable, as well as an unopened pack of underwear one size too
big. But hey, better than nothing. A quick wardrobe change and she felt like a
new person with relatively clean fabric against her skin, even if the jeans
were a bit too wide and ended an inch above her ankles.

As she made her way over to the men’s section, a spot of
bright color caught her eye—a white summer dress covered in pink flowers,
neatly hung on the rack by the fitting rooms. There was nothing practical about
it; it was all frill and girliness, with the skirt flaring just enough to swish
around her knees.

It was useless. A waste of cargo space.

Still, Sinna couldn’t help having a little feel. The fabric
was so soft and clean, the colors as bright today as they’d been twenty years
ago when people still wore them.

Leave it,
she thought.
You need food and water,
not a party dress. Bryce would laugh you out of the store just for looking at
it.

He’d be right, too.

And yet there went her hand, snatching the dress off its
hanger, balling it up, and hiding it inside the sleeping shirt. Shaking her
head at her own weakness, Sinna removed herself from further temptation and
went over to the men’s section to get something practical for her companion.

When Bryce came back, he had a plastic storage bin in his
cart half filled with bottles of water and empty aluminum canteens. Next to it,
another bin held first aid supplies—bandages, antibiotic ointment, alcohol
swabs, and pain killers. A veritable pharmacy of goodies they could trade for
other things they needed—if they ever found people willing to trade. On the bottom
rack, a third bin, wider and flatter, sat filled with duct tape, twine, utility
knives, cookware, and two pillowy rolls Sinna assumed were sleeping bags.

For future reference, this is how one shops,
post-apocalypse.
She hid her embarrassment by thoroughly checking his loot.
“No food?”

Bryce shook his head. “Would have been the first thing to
go. We were lucky the manager had stashed water in his office. There’s nothing
on the shelves.”

Sinna nodded. “Maybe we’ll find something farther south.”

“We could stay the night. I can catch something four-legged
around here if you want.”

She shook her head. The last thing she wanted was to stay
here. This place was Ali Baba’s treasure cave with its piles and piles of
stuff
—a
monument to the frivolous carelessness of human existence. A species that had
placed more importance on having the latest gadgets, than the tools and
knowledge necessary to survive without them. “No, we should go.”

They loaded up the mule and shared a water bottle between
them; strict rations, until they found another water source. As well stocked as
they could hope to get, Bryce drove them back onto the road the same way he’d
driven off of it. No scenic routes through town, no experimenting with
shortcuts. The map they’d found had been outdated even before the collapse, so
Bryce wouldn’t trust it for anything other than main highways. But if it was
correct, they didn’t have much farther to go.

Turned out, the fair city of Gilroy was just over a hundred
miles away.

The land is quiet once again. The converts retreated as
fast as they appeared, and no one has seen any sign of them for two days.
Doesn’t mean we let our guard down, but after all that, I am just about
finished. All I want to do is lay my head down and sleep.

I can’t.

Every time I close my eyes and drift off, the banging
wakes me. That awful, slow banging, like the tolls of a funeral bell.

Alpha Seven, striking his metal door as I walked away. It
wasn’t an attempt to break through; that would be too crude. It was a measured,
pounding rhythm, all the more foreboding for its steadiness.

It was a message.

It said he’s going to get out eventually.

And when he does, he will be coming for me.

~

Bang. Bang. BANG!

Desiree woke in a cold sweat, shouting into the early
morning light. Disoriented, she rubbed her eyes hard to get her bearings.

She was in her room. Alone. No monsters, and no Alpha.

The banging was Dare’s brand of morning wake up call. He and
Arik stood outside her door, ready for another day of guard dog duty.

She slumped against her pillow and breathed to slow her
heart’s manic pace. There was no threat. For all intents and purposes, today
was a brand new world in which nothing could harm her, because her guards were
there.

Once she’d convinced herself of this, Desiree got up and
dressed. She didn’t have time for more than a bite of bread and cheese on her
way out the door. Dare wouldn’t have woken her unless she was needed. In other words,
Klaus had told them to fetch her. Desiree supposed it could have been worse;
they could have dragged her out of bed and brought her before him, whether she
was ready or not.

Still, an early-morning summons never boded well.

“Morning!” she greeted her guards cheerfully, determined to
stay happy today, no matter what.

Arik chuckled. “Someone’s in a good mood. What’s up, Gimpy?
Had yourself a nice dream?”

She blushed at the innuendo and turned away, setting a
steady pace toward Klaus’ cottage. “Sure, yeah. Let’s go with that.”

Andreas tended the tomato plants in the garden when Desiree
came through the gate. Three gardeners worked for Klaus. He used to have four,
but Sarah, the good-natured midwife-slash-herbologist, had been discovered
stealing rosemary two weeks ago and got exiled, sans hands.

Desiree smiled at Andreas, nodded in greeting. When he
turned away, pretending he hadn’t seen her, she decided not to take it
personally. The sun was shining, the buffer zone around Haven was clear; it was
a good day to be alive. Clinging to that mindset, Desiree mounted the two
stairs to Klaus’ front door, and entered the cottage.

Inside, Klaus had the best of everything: polished floors,
hand-carved furniture, framed photographs, and diaphanous draperies. Haven’s
leader didn’t live in luxury; he lived in fantasy. Standing in his living room
with the pianoforte in one corner and a rocking chair in the other, you’d never
have guessed a wasteland lay just outside his walls.

Desiree knew better than to make herself comfortable. She
paced the room slowly to keep her weight off her prosthesis while she waited
for the man of the hour to show up.

“The guards tell me you went down to the tunnels last
night.”

Desiree turned to face Klaus, and her determined smile froze.
“Did something happen?”

Klaus wiped blood off of his hands and forearms with a
pristine white towel. “Answer me.”

She frowned. “I was asleep last night.”

He did not crack a smile when he handed the soiled towel off
to Arik. “You know what I mean.”

“If you’re talking about two nights ago, then yes. I heard
the converts outside. I got scared. My guards were gone and it sounded pretty
bad out there, so I went to the tunnels.”

“Did you talk wis Alfa?”

What the hell…? “I guess. He heard me there and addressed me
first, so I went along with it. I thought I could judge his willingness to
cooperate.”

Klaus moved so fast, Desiree had no chance to defend
herself; his palm struck her cheek with enough force to spin her around, and
she slammed into the wall. “You will not lie to me,” he said, voice soft and
measured.

“I’m not. I—”

He wrenched her around and shoved her back against the wall.
It wasn’t a particularly hard shove, but with her artificial foot caught on the
carpet, the twist and shift made it stick instead of move with her body.
Something in the knee joint creaked and popped, and the lower half of her
prosthesis came loose. “What did you say to him?” Klaus demanded, enunciating
each word as her arms bruised in his punishing grip.

“I s—I said nothing.”

“Did you tell him who you are?”

“He already knew!”

Klaus stared for a moment, then released her and stepped
back. “Of course,” he said, suddenly bright and happy. “I should have known.
Their sense of smell is very good, ya? He would know the instant we were in the
same room together.”

Shaken, Desiree wiped her runny nose and took a deep breath
to compose herself. Her right foot now faced the wrong way. The artificial knee
joint was ruined. She stayed against the wall, knowing the moment she tried to
walk away, the entire prosthesis would fall apart. But better a piece of wood
and plastic, than her neck.

“You thought I would betray you?”

Klaus shrugged. “It would do you no good if you tried.
Wolfen are not like us. They have no compassion for humanity. He would use you
against
me
, und then leave you to die. They can be very charming und
persuasive, but it is all cunning, my dear. You must not trust them.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

“But of course.” He smiled. “You are my apprentice. I will
always protect you. But should you ever betray me, I will not hesitate to make
an example of you.”

Desiree’s gaze snagged on a teardrop-shaped blood stain on
Klaus’ shirt—a stark hangman’s noose against a field of white. “It won’t ever
come to that.”

Following her gaze, Klaus scowled at the mess and unbuttoned
his shirt to remove it. He took a fresh one from the wicker basket of clean,
pressed clothes by the door and shucked out of the ruined one, flashing her the
black swastika tattoo on his left shoulder blade in the process.

“What do you want us to do with the body?” Arik asked, head
turned sideways to see something farther down the hall.

Klaus waved the issue away. “You can dispose of it after
dark.”

When no one would see.

Desiree swallowed hard and pressed a chilled hand to her
burning cheek. She’d be bruised again. “Is that it? Are we finished?”

Klaus raised an eyebrow. “You are not enjoying our little
chat?”

Desiree pulled up her pant leg to inspect the damage, and
winced. The torque had twisted her knee joint out of alignment, pried apart the
plastic sides, and broken the hinge screw. “Thanks to your artful handling,”
she said, “my leg will need extensive repair.”

“Arik, go get Dee’s crutch, und let Henry know to be ready
for her.”

“Yessir!” Arik left at once.

Henry the carpenter was a master at his craft—some might say
an artist—and he was probably the only one in Haven who didn’t treat Desiree
like shit. To him, she was a puzzle. He would have loved to have whittled her a
brand new leg, except Klaus had forbidden him to try. It suited Klaus’ purposes
to keep his “apprentice” handicapped. Kept her from getting ideas about having
any sort of standing, where he was concerned. Henry had taken a huge risk by
making adjustments to the prosthesis before, but after so long, even with
Klaus’ permission, Desiree seriously questioned if he could do anything about
this much damage.

She shook her head, and hopped to the rocking chair. Fuck
Klaus. If he didn’t want her to sit, he shouldn’t have broken her leg. “I hope
you’re happy. This is going to take a huge chunk out of my day.”

“I apologize.” There was no contrition in his tone,
whatsoever. “I lost my temper. It fos not my intention to stall you.”

But terrorizing and crippling me was?

“You have an important task to complete, ya?”

She nodded. Anything to get the hell out of here.

“Und Wolfen wait for no man.”

Shit.
That was
not
what she meant.

“Henry will set your leg to rights, post haste, und everything
will be back to normal. You will do what I asked—today.”

“Are we in a rush?”

Klaus sighed, as if shoring up his patience against a
willful child. “Have I ever told you about my Uncle Friedrich?”

“Yes,” she grated.

He ignored her. “A wanderful
Mensch
. He fos one of
Hitler’s most valued secret officers und trusted advisors. While others were
weeding out undesirables und eliminating the genetically inferior, Friedrich
fos secretly pioneering a brand new field of scientific study into
deh-enn-ah
engineering. He fos a visionary. Germany’s unsung hero.” His accent growing
more pronounced with his passionate delivery, Klaus spoke out the window, with
his back to Desiree. The speech was for his own ears, not hers. He probably
imagined a grand audience out there, cheering him on, while he sang lavish
praises about a man who would have been one of the most hated figures in the
history of Nazism, had anyone known of his existence.

Then Klaus turned to face her, adjusting his spectacles. “He
raised me, you know. He inspired me, und many others, to follow in his
footsteps the same way I am teaching you to this day. Friedrich believed, as I
do, that our salvation lies not in the destruction of weeds, but in the
planting of trees. Friedrich Koch is responsible for some of history’s most
astonishing breaksrus, because he never—let—
anysing
stand in the way of
his research. He rose sru the ranks of scientists, und sat by Hitler’s side in
his final moments, und he did it simply by living his motto. Do you know what it
fos?”

Because he seemed to be expecting some sort of answer,
Desiree shrugged.

“Never leave until tomorrow, what you can do today.”

A ten-minute introduction to one sentence.

“So, to answer your question, we are not in a rush. We are
simply not procrastinating.”

Arik returned and nodded to Klaus. Job done.

Klaus acknowledged him with a glance, and turned his
attention right back to Desiree. “This will not be a problem for you, will it?”

Desiree felt a powerful urge to fidget beneath his
unforgiving regard. “My leg comes first.”

“Of course.” He waved for Arik to hand her the crutch.

Desiree unrolled her right pant leg and ripped the cloth up
the sides. All of her clothes were too big on her, and at the moment, she was
thankful for it. The extra length allowed her to knot up the bottom around the
sole of her artificial foot so she didn’t have to carry it all the way to
Henry’s. “After that, I’ll need some sort of delivery system. I doubt our guest
will hold his arm out for an injection.”

“No problem,” Arik said readily. “We can use tranquilizer
darts. Just pry one open and change out the payload.”

She glared at him as she pushed to stand. Would it have
killed him to keep that to himself for a few more days? “Given Alpha’s high
metabolism, I’ll need to use a full dose of ZX-127. If the dart isn’t big
enough, I’ll need to distill it. We may only get one or two shots at this.”

“Then we best make them count, ya?”

Desiree opened her mouth wide so she wouldn’t grind her
teeth to dust. “Who will deliver the charge?”

Arik shrugged. “I’ll take the shot, easy.”

“And the rest of it?”

The guard held up his hands. “You’re on your own with that
one.”

Good thing she hadn’t eaten a big breakfast. The mere idea
of what she would have to do made her stomach turn watery.

“I’ll be right outside the door. Don’t you worry none,
Gimpy. Shit goes south, you just give a shout, and I’ll drill him so full of
holes, it’ll take him a week to plug ‘em all up.” He winked at her. “I got your
back.”

She didn’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, she turned
to Klaus. “Now are we finished?”

Klaus nodded. “For the moment. I trust you will remember our
conversation.”

Desiree forced a smile. “Of course, Daddy.”

His mouth twisted into an ugly sneer at the endearment, and he
puffed out his chest, shoring up his self-importance as a shield against her
insolence. The smile, when it finally came, was nothing short of terrifying.
“You may take her out the back way,” he told Arik.

Desiree’s eyes widened. “No, that won’t be necessary.”

“But I insist. It is the shortest path to Henry’s; I would
not want you to waste precious time going all the way around my yard.”

Right.
Anything for her convenience.

Desiree nodded, and went out into the hallway. It was only a
few feet to the back, but it felt much longer. Arik let her go first. He stayed
glued to her, weapon down by this side and hands free to catch her in case she
tripped, fainted, or met with an accident of some kind, which she just
appreciated so much, it was impossible to put into words.

The first door down this way was the utility closet, the
second, an ornate glass portal leading to the back porch. The third stood open,
the apparent source of Klaus’ ruined shirt and a strong odor of formaldehyde.
The closer she got, the worse it became.
Don’t look. That’s exactly what
they want. Don’t give them the satisfaction. Just keep walking.

But no matter how many times she’d read about curiosity
killing the cat, or how dangerous it was—great curiosity always led to great
tragedies, after all—Desiree couldn’t help herself. Though she hated Klaus with
the fiery passion of a thousand suns, she was still his daughter by blood and
shared his scientific zeal, if nothing else. It compelled her to investigate
the mystery he dangled before her, and as she passed the door, she couldn’t
resist a sideways glance inside.