Annihilation (Shadowmark Book 2) Page 5

  “Come on,” he said, standing up. “It won’t be safe to move around anymore tonight.”

  Although she was relieved to be done climbing, Mina couldn’t help but question him. “Why not?”

  “It just isn’t.”

  Mina opened her mouth to challenge him further but groaned audibly as another spike of pain shot through her jaw. She tenderly touched her swollen face.

  “It’s not broken,” he said.

  She moved her mouth as little as possible. “You said it was!”

  “I lied. It looks worse than it is.”

  “Yeah, well, I bet it feels a lot worse than it looks.”

  “Fair enough.”

  Doyle led her around the hill to an overhanging rock that jutted from the hillside. Beneath it, years of erosion had hollowed out a depression that provided some shelter from the wind. They sat down apart from each other. The fields, cut out of the rolling hills, dotted the landscape to the east. To the west, dark mountains stood out against the starry sky. Everything looked calm and still in the moonlight.

  A false peace.

  Doyle pulled a plastic bag of food out of his backpack, taking some out for himself before tossing the bag to Mina. Mina did not know or care what the food was as she broke off tiny pieces and swallowed them whole. Then, she found the most comfortable bit of rock she could and laid down, careful not to put pressure on the swollen side of her jaw.

  Mina’s eyelids opened heavily. The stars still twinkled brightly above her. Something about them seemed wrong, like they had grown larger while she slept. While she tried to understand what about them bothered her, something else nagged at the back of her mind. She glanced around and saw the pale shadow of a man glimmering against a black background. Not a man though. Something else.

  Mina froze and held her breath. What was it? The shadow hovered at the corner of her vision, facing her. It saw her.

  The silvery shade glided over to her, hovering over her body. It had few distinguishing features except its inky black eyes. So, so black. Always black. Only black. As if color no longer existed and was only a figment of Mina’s imagination. The abyss tugged at her insistently, a void that would consume her into depths of knowledge and power.

  They frightened her, and when Mina tried to look away, the shade scorned her for being weak. “You’ll die,” it said, but it never actually spoke. How did she understand what it was saying?

  Mina moved to get up and run, but her legs were tired. She was too weary to stand. Instead, she reached for the face, intending to push away those awful eyes. The specter hovered within reach, but for some reason, Mina could not get her hand close enough to touch it. Giving up, she desperately tried to cover her own face. Her arms filled with sand, too heavy to move, leaving her with no choice but to stare into the deep, mocking pits.

  Then, everything changed, and Mina was back in the creek, water swirling around her neck. The specter hovered on the bank. She splashed and sputtered in the icy cold water, pleading for help, frightened beyond reason, but the shade only watched pitilessly.

  The wind rustled the trees. “She should die,” the trees said.

  The shade looked up. Mina did too. Stars twinkled like large diamonds. The diamonds grew brighter, then entered the atmosphere and flew into the creek. The streaks of light blinded her, and Mina cried out in shock. Water washed over her head, filling her lungs.

  As she clung to life under the surface of the water, the white shadow glowed yellow and burst into flames, reaching for the shooting stars. The blaze devoured each star as it fell, turning it to ash and scattering it to the wind. Millions of stars fell, all consumed by the inferno. When none remained, the sky burned as black as the eyes that now bored through the flames and into Mina. Knowing now that death was unavoidable, she ceased struggling. Without fear, Mina glared back at the fiery specter shining through the water. Before she closed her eyes a final time, she was shocked to see that it was weeping.

  Calla sat on a rock, cleaning her knife. A female hybrid lay face down at her feet, hot blood soaking into the ground. Calla looked up through the trees at the moon. A few more hours of darkness. She loved hunting at night. Relying on scents and sounds. The terror of her prey as she surprised it in the dark. Next time, though, she might do it in daylight, to make the hunt more challenging. She had almost tripped over the one at her feet. The traitor had made Calla’s task too easy.

  She finished polishing her weapon and sheathed it. Calla would give one final summons to those tasked with helping her, Dar Ceylin as well, to remind him of her new position, if not because she needed his help. She hopped off the rock, stepping on the rogue hybrid.

  Feeling every bit the victorious huntress, Calla pulled out a small charge stick from her pack and dropped it on the body. She walked away a few paces and turned to picture the explosive, her mind caressing its length. It detonated, the fireball engulfing the body below the rock, melting clothing, flesh, and bone. Within thirty seconds, the flames had licked away the remaining rubber from the female’s boots and then extinguished themselves. The last wisp of smoke curled up through the tree branches, dissipating into the night air.

  She smiled triumphantly at the charred patch of ground. Too easy.

  Chapter Six

  A loud boom shook the ground. Startled out of her dream, Mina lurched to a sitting position, the nightmare fading quickly. She looked up, anticipating another storm, but the night sky was clear. Once again, the smell of burning wood drifted through the air.

  Doyle sat on the rocks ahead of her, silhouetted against a yellow haze in the distance. She crawled out from her sleeping place for a better look. The light flickered and rose up. Fire burned brightly in the distance, and a plume of smoke blotted out the stars above it.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “The Glyphs found that group of men on the trail.” Doyle’s voice was calm and flat.

  “What? Why didn’t you wake me?”

  “I didn’t think you’d be sorry.”

  The fire burned in a short line, casting a yellow glow on the hull of a black mass that hovered above the smoke.

  “How did you know they were coming?” Mina asked, her jaw aching. The pain felt like she’d had her wisdom teeth removed all over again. She moved to sit a few feet from Doyle.

  “It was only a matter of time.”

  When he didn’t offer anything else, Mina said, “That ship is smaller than the one in Charlotte.”

  Doyle glanced at her. “It was a small group of men. Only a hundred or so. The larger ships must be for the cities.”

  Another tremor shook the air.

  Doyle looked over at her. “Maybe you should get some more sleep. You look like you need it.”

  Mina tried to let the remark slide but self-consciously moved a hand up to her tangled hair. Her gaze moved away from the fire. Lights from homes and roads should have dotted the night, but complete darkness covered everything instead.

  “Are we safe here?”

  Doyle sighed. “If I didn’t think we were safe here, we wouldn’t be here.”

  Neither spoke again as they watched the fire. It looked as if it would burn all night, and Mina wondered if anyone could survive down there. They were lucky to be alive.

  Slowly, she got to her feet and made her way back to her sleeping place. When Mina woke in the cold, gray morning, Doyle had disappeared. She limped to the spring by herself, following the sound of trickling water. Her swollen jaw had stiffened overnight, but the pain had abated enough for her to wash her face. She soaked her hair, gasping as the cold water chilled her. Fully awake now, Mina sat down, drawing her legs up to her chin. An anxious shiver ran up her spine, and she placed her forehead on her knees to let her breath warm her nose.

  Lincoln. She had to get to Atlanta. On foot.

  Mina shivered violently. For the first time in a week, she didn’t know what to do next. Inevitably, the Glyphs or someone else would catch her again, she would die in some horrible a
ccident, or she would starve. Doyle had left her behind. Mina didn’t blame him. He probably had his own family to find. Still, she wished he’d stayed long enough for her to thank him.

  She lay down on her side, bringing her arms in close to her body.

  They burned the trail, she thought. The invaders were attacking small groups of people, which meant they were out to kill everyone. They’d already burned the cities. Chances were Lincoln didn’t make it or her godparents, Karen and Tom.

  I hope they didn’t suffer.

  An oppressive weight bore down on Mina’s chest. She fought against it. Imagining how they might have died would send her over the edge.

  She brushed her fingers over her chafed wrists, which were tender and swollen, and Reed’s leering face and whiskey breath rose in her mind. She might have drowned if he hadn’t pulled her out. Now, Reed was dead, and Mina was alive.

  Another terrible shudder spread from Mina’s limbs to her chest. At first, she fought the tears that stung her eyes, but they persisted, and she gave in, her eyes flooding and spilling over in wave after wave of pain, hunger, and fear. She gasped for air as the sobs overwhelmed her body, threatening to suffocate her.

  Mina didn’t know how long she cried at the spring, but as her weeping subsided, the cool morning air soothed her swollen eyes and restored her common sense. She splashed cold water on her face to erase the evidence of her breakdown and then stood with a renewed sense of purpose. She needed to make a better plan for survival, a plan to protect herself.

  Mina walked back to the overhang and this time climbed to stand on top of it. The tree-covered mountains to the west looked undisturbed and promising in the morning light. To the southeast, the trees marking the trail had disappeared, replaced by a black line that smoked and smoldered for several miles. Nothing out there moved, no signs of survivors.

  As Mina scanned the area closer to her, she saw someone hiking across the field at the bottom of the hill. She crouched, moving into the trees behind her.

  Several minutes passed before Doyle appeared, hiking up the slope through the trees. Realizing she’d been holding her breath, Mina exhaled with relief. She stood to meet him, smiling at seeing a familiar face even though she had just met him. Considering what he had saved her from the day before, Mina couldn’t help but feel safe in his presence.

  A thirty-something, rugged-looking man, Doyle stood over six feet tall with a lean but sturdy frame. With his dark, short-cropped hair and pale skin, he would have been good-looking except for the hard expression on his face softened only by his day-old stubble and deep-set, almond-shaped eyes. Dressed simply in a gray long-sleeve shirt, a worn weatherproof jacket, khakis, and military-style boots, he looked prepared for anything.

  He carried a brown pack with a second over one shoulder. A black rifle was slung over the other shoulder, and a long knife and a large semiautomatic pistol resided at his hip. Doyle tossed the second pack at Mina’s feet and then pulled out a smaller handgun wrapped in a plain black holster.

  “You might need this. It’s loaded, and I have an extra magazine. Know how to use it?”

  “Where’d you get it?”

  “It’s mine. An extra.”

  What sort of man needed two sidearms and a rifle? A bitter taste rose in Mina’s mouth. Hands at her sides, she looked at the pistol with disgust.

  “Well?” he asked. “Do you know how to use it?”

  “Yes, but I’d rather not.”

  “You’d rather not.” A muscle twitched in Doyle’s neck. “How are you going to protect yourself?”

  “I don’t need a gun.”

  Doyle snorted. “You needed one yesterday.”

  “That was different.”

  “It always is when you’re trying to defend yourself. Take the gun.” Again, he held out the small firearm.

  Mina wrapped her arms around herself. She didn’t want it. Didn’t want the responsibility. Didn't want to accept what he was saying. What would she have done yesterday if she’d had a gun? Mina couldn’t answer the question.

  With Reed’s face still leering in her mind, she reached for the pistol. She didn’t want it at her side like Doyle’s, where anyone could see it. The holster had a small clip for a belt.

  “Clip it on your waistband at your back,” Doyle advised. “Are you sure you know how to use it?”

  “My dad taught me.” She attached it like he said where her jacket covered it completely.

  “How long ago?”

  Mina thought about it a moment. “Eighteen years.”

  Doyle sighed. “Don’t waste bullets. Only use it if you have to. For most people, waving a gun at them will be enough to scare them off.” He nodded to the backpack at her feet. “Use that one.”

  The pack was full of gear. It must have weighed twenty pounds. Inside was a knife, a gray woolen blanket, granola bars, and… boots. Men’s leather boots with thick soles and sturdy uppers. Mina stopped digging through the bag when she saw them, pulling them out immediately.

  “Where did you get these?” she asked.

  “From someone who doesn’t need them anymore. Please tell me you don’t have anything against better shoes.”

  Ignoring Doyle’s sarcasm, Mina didn’t waste any time trying them on. They fit too snugly around her bruised feet, but the lined boots already warmed her numb toes.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  Doyle nodded. “So,” he said as he adjusted his own pack. “How did you end up in the creek?”

  Mina hated to admit it. “I fell asleep.”

  “And then it rained.”

  “Yes.”

  “Obviously, you’ve been taking a risk with drinking water. What have you been eating?”

  “Anything I can choke down. When you’re hungry, everything looks good.”

  Doyle pulled a granola bar from his bag and tossed it to her. She eagerly tore it open, breaking off a tiny piece to swallow.

  “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

  “I’m looking for my brother. He was supposed to be in Atlanta.”

  “Atlanta’s gone.”

  Mina broke off another piece, ignoring the sick feeling that rose in her stomach. “Do you know for sure?”

  “Towers landed there, too.”

  “But you don’t know?”

  “No. I don’t know.”

  Mina swallowed another piece of granola. The action sent more pain through the side of her face. She tried to avoid thinking about Atlanta for the moment, concentrating on finishing her breakfast. Doyle watched her eat, his eyes unnerving her as he seemingly stared at something she couldn’t see.

  She shook off the discomfort. “Where are you going?”

  “The mountains.”

  Mina nodded. “If you’re right—”

  “I’m right.”

  “—and the invaders destroyed only the cities with towers, then the small towns in the mountains might be havens.”

  “I don’t think so. The ships are heading west. If the Glyphs are concerned about small groups of men on trails, they’ll find the towns.”

  “Then why are you going there?” Mina asked, annoyed.

  “It’s still a good place to hide, especially for only one or two people.”

  Mina took a deep breath. “Are you saying I could go with you?”

  “Only if you keep up. I travel fast.”

  “I can keep up. I’ve run at least one marathon every year for the last eight years.”

  Doyle snorted. “Doesn’t necessarily mean you can keep up, but it’s a start.”

  “One more question.”

  He nodded.

  “Why are you helping me?”

  Doyle sighed. “Be on your guard. Don’t trust anyone, not even me.” Doyle met her eyes as he said this.

  He has very dark irises, she thought, and the skin of her arms prickled. Mina held his gaze, but she could not tell what kind of man he was simply by looking into his eyes. She would have to make that decision on instinct
alone.

  “Are you coming with me or not?” he asked.

  “I’ll come,” Mina said finally. She pushed away the thought of a smoldering Atlanta. “But I’m still looking for my brother.”

  “Okay.” Doyle turned away and picked up his backpack. Without a glance back, he set off down the hill.

  Reaching the mountains took all day and part of another because Doyle insisted they stay out of the open. He set a grueling pace through the trees, zigzagging around fields and overbrush. Mina struggled to keep up, especially with the pain in her feet and the heavy backpack weighing her down, but Doyle would not slow down for her. At the end of the first long day, Mina collapsed at their campsite and fell asleep immediately. Doyle woke her to eat. As soon as she had eliminated some of the gnawing hunger pangs, she went back to sleep, enjoying the first decent rest she’d had in two weeks.

  At noon on the second day, they rested at the foot of the first real mountains. They had traipsed up and down foothills all day, and Mina was exhausted.

  “Well, we’re here. Now what?” she asked as she took a sip of water. Although still stiff and swollen, Mina’s jaw had healed enough that she could talk without excruciating pain.

  “We keep moving. We need to get over the ridge and set up camp by nightfall.”

  “Can we light a fire tonight?” she asked. Doyle had not allowed one the night before.

  Doyle stuffed his own water back into his bag. “No, and tonight’s your turn to keep watch.”

  “You haven’t been sleeping? Were you up all last night?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about the night before that?”

  “Yes.”

  Mina’s cheeks burned with shame. Doyle had watched over her each night while she slept soundly. He had fed her and found her water, and she had let him take care of her while he went without sleep.