Into the Real Page 3

  “I’m sure you did.”

  Lia threw me a glance that told me to behave and give the new guy a chance—especially considering what he’d just been through. I pushed my hood back and sighed. “So you don’t know a lot about Brume.”

  “Not much, no.”

  “You don’t know about the Unseen Hands? The Screamers? The Rippers?”

  His eyes widened. “Are they . . . are they as bad as they sound? What are Rippers?”

  “Trust me. You’ll know a Ripper when you see it.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice just enough that he’d have to lean in to hear me. “They feed. It’s all they do.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. “On what?”

  “On us.”

  Always the peacekeeper, Lia interrupted. “Quinn—”

  “Y’know, a Ripper’s teeth grow over a foot and a half a year. So you gotta wonder.” I sat back, resting my palms on the cool cement floor, my eyes on Caleb the whole time. “Do they have to chew all the time because their teeth grow so fast . . . or do their teeth grow so fast because they’re always chewing?”

  Caleb’s chest rose and fell in quickened breaths. His eyes darted all around us in growing panic.

  Taking pity on the guy, I said, “Calm down. They’re nocturnal.”

  “Quinn, you’re scaring him.” Lia flashed me a look that said she meant business.

  “So what if I am? I’m also helping him.” I met Caleb’s gaze. “You’ve gotta get tough if you want to make it out of here alive.”

  A spark lit up in his eyes—one I recognized. “There’s a way out?”

  “No.” The word left Lia’s lips like the crack of a whip. Her eyes were locked on the fire, and as far as she was concerned, that part of the conversation was over.

  But it wasn’t over for me. Not just yet. “We don’t know that, Lia. There may be a way out. There . . . there has to be.”

  Her eyes shimmered. “Does there, though?”

  The three of us sat in silence for a time, until Caleb asked, “What happened to this place? I remember what it was like before we went into the bunker. The sun came out almost every day, and people were generally happy. I mean, until the power went out.”

  I cleared my throat, hating that we had to bother explaining it to him, but understanding that Caleb deserved to know what had happened—at least as much as we knew. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him in the dark. “Yeah, you’ve missed a few things being down there so long. Shortly after the fog closed in around town, people started disappearing. It took folks a while to realize there was something lurking in the darkness. It ripped people to bits, but we never saw it. Someone started calling it the Unseen Hands. The name stuck.”

  “The Rippers appeared shortly after that,” Lia said. “When people started disappearing by the dozen, that’s when everyone started to panic. I wish I could say that every death was caused by the Unseen Hands and Rippers, but people can be the worst monsters of all—especially when they’re afraid.” Lia’s voice quieted as she spoke. I wondered if she was thinking about her mother again, but I didn’t dare ask.

  She was stirring something in a pan she’d placed on the fire. The smell of whatever was cooking made my stomach rumble with hunger. I said, “What’s for breakfast?”

  I didn’t have anyone left to care about but Lia. If she needed me to drop a subject, it was dropped. If she was happy, I was happy. Well . . . the happiest a person could get in a place like this.

  She finished cooking, and as she scooped servings onto three small tin plates and passed two of them to Caleb and me, she said, “By the look of the light, it’s more like lunch. We’ve got a regular feast today. Sorry, I don’t have any utensils. They must’ve fallen out of my bag.”

  Caleb dug right in, picking up small handfuls of scrambled eggs and stuffing bites into his mouth. I wondered if he’d eaten much in the past four days. I wagered not. I looked at the food Lia had cooked and couldn’t help but ask, “Where’d you find eggs?”

  She took her time chewing a bite and swallowed. “Does it matter?”

  I could think of only one place in Brume to find nests of any kind, but there was no way she’d have gone there. Not after what had happened. Our eyes met. I did all I could to keep an accusatory tone out of my words but failed. “Lia. You didn’t go to the park, did you?”

  She winced and focused her attention on the food on her plate. “It was worth the risk. For once, we get a proper meal. Besides, nothing happened.”

  Through a mouthful of chewed eggs, Caleb said, “We went into the school afterward. There are tons of supplies in there. Rations, blankets, tools. Medical stuff too.”

  He was acting like I was new to Brume, like I had no idea how to survive without hand-holding and guidance. He was acting like I was him. I knew what could be found in the school. Pretty much everyone did. We just didn’t go there. Or the park. Nobody. Not unless we had very good cause. And a couple of eggs weren’t worth the risk.

  I couldn’t help but notice that Caleb wasn’t carrying any of the goods he’d mentioned. And if Lia was, they were well hidden within her bag. Maybe they had a secret stash somewhere. Something I wasn’t a part of. It wasn’t unusual for people to hide stashes of goods—especially gangs, who tended to booby-trap their stash locations with explosives and the like. But it would be strange for Lia to hide one from me.

  My jaw felt sore. It took me a moment to realize that I’d been clenching it.

  “You should be more careful. There are reasons people don’t go there. You know that, Lia.” The two of them exchanged a meaningful glance—a glance that made me feel like a third wheel. It was a strange sensation, to feel like I wasn’t in on some secret that Lia had. We’d always shared everything with each other. “Am I missing something?”

  The fire crackled as it gobbled up the wood that fueled it. Finally, Lia said, “We saw Coe.”

  My eyes flicked between the two of them as my heart skipped in fear. “You did not. No one sees Coe and gets away unscathed.”

  Lia nodded, her plate steady in her hands. “We did. His skin was scaly and black, like an oily snake. He had long, spindly arms . . . and claws.”

  We. The word rang through my mind like the tolling of a bell. I chewed a mouthful of food, mulling over what to say. Lia knew how dangerous it was to go to the school. Why would she risk it now for a couple of eggs and some bandages? We were hungry, but not starving. Brume had other resources for food, and any bit of fabric could be torn into a makeshift bandage. Lia knew all of that. So what had changed that made it worth the risk in her mind?

  I looked at Caleb, with his sharp cheekbones and firm biceps and bright blue eyes, and I was fairly certain I had my answer. “How close did you get to Coe?”

  “Twenty yards or so,” Caleb replied. Tall, blond, and careless, this one.

  “You’re lucky you weren’t seen. You’re lucky you weren’t killed . . . or worse.” I debated not laying into Lia for doing something so stupid, but after the fire earlier, after what had happened to her mother, how could I stay silent? “You, more than anyone, know what can happen to people once Coe gets to them. How could you take a risk like that, Lia? After what Coe did to Kai? After . . . what happened to your mother?”

  Despite the fire, the air around us seemed to chill as Lia snapped her eyes to mine. We never spoke about her mom.

  “Look, I know you worry about me, Quinn, but I’m fine, okay? I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. If memory serves—and it damn well does—I’ve saved your ass more times than either of us can count. So yeah. I’m fine, despite seeing Coe. And in case you were wondering, Caleb’s fine too.” Her face flushed, and her eyes grew bright with anger as she stood and kicked over the wood and stomped on the embers, extinguishing the fire. She stuffed all her supplies, minus the plate I was holding and the still-hot pan, into her bag and turned abruptly toward the warehouse door. I’d hurt her. I knew I’d hurt her. And I wasn’t certain why. I only knew
that I’d done it on purpose.

  Way to go, Quinn.

  “Lia—”

  “Enjoy your meal. We’re finding somewhere else to stay. Come on, Caleb.” Her tone was biting. I deserved it. She flashed me a glare before turning away. “Oh, and you might wanna change your clothes, Quinn. Green doesn’t look good on you.”

  I had no idea what she was implying. Glancing down, I noted that I was wearing what I normally did. Leather boots; gray cargo pants; a loose-fitting, faded black pullover hoodie; and a leather belt with a pouch that strapped to my right thigh. Not one thing I was wearing was green. So what in Brume was that supposed to mea—

  The realization hit me hard that Lia had accused me of being jealous. Jealous of what? Caleb? With his blond hair and broad shoulders and the way Lia’s eyes sparkled when he spoke?

  Not even a little bit.

  Lia walked away in a huff, and Caleb hurried to catch up with her. As they pulled the door open and slipped outside, he said something that made her laugh, despite her mood. Annoyance prickled its way up my spine, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Caleb—someone who clearly identified as male—was exactly what Lia was looking for.

  I’d filled up on guilt, so my appetite waned, but I ate the rest of the eggs that Lia had given me anyway. There was no sense in wasting food—especially food that she’d gone to such dangerous lengths to acquire.

  The warehouse may have been a good place to crash, but it was tainted now by our argument, so I stepped outside. With one last glance in the direction that Lia and Caleb had walked, I turned and headed west. There were some decent houses to be found in this direction, but nothing so upscale that I would attract any unwanted attention by crashing at one. If I was lucky, I might find some canned goods to pick through for dinner, or maybe even an actual bed to sleep on.

  The streets were quiet. I hurried on my way, my head full of images of black snakeskin and spindly arms.

  Coe.

  Goddamn it, Lia.

  Coe.

  What were you thinking?

  23

  Brume had been a town at one point, but it was something else now—more like the shadow of a town. Or the disintegrating skeleton of one.

  The west side was full of houses with large porches, grand entryways, and attractive details like stained-glass windows and wrought-iron fences. As with all the houses in Brume, though, the paint was peeling, the wood was rotting, and the fences were rusting.

  All seemed relatively calm today, which had my nerves on edge. It was almost more unsettling not to hear screams of terror. Nothing was ever calm in Brume. Except for maybe those moments with Lia, when we’d laugh over some ridiculous memory we shared.

  Time marched us all from midmorning to afternoon. As I wound my way through the streets in search of a place to crash that night, I mulled over how I’d left things with Lia. An apology was due, and damned if it wasn’t due from me.

  “Well, if it isn’t the famous rebel, Quinn.” Lloyd’s razor-sharp tone cut through the growing fog, slowing my steps until I finally came to a reluctant stop and turned to face him. Shit. I’d been so distracted by my thoughts that I hadn’t been paying as much attention to my surroundings as I normally did. I was lucky it was just Lloyd and his gang, and not something unearthly. Not that he was any prize.

  Several of his followers were spread out in a line behind him, looking menacing and filthy in the way that stray cats sometimes did when you came into their turf. Lloyd stood in front of them, his shirt blood-spattered, a crowbar resting over his right shoulder. The X-shaped scar on his cheek was paler than the rest of his skin. He looked confident, cocky even, and just the sight of him put me on the defensive.

  He’d been after me for months to join his gang. The first few times he broached the subject, he was kind about it. He made it sound like a family more than a group of thieves and thugs. I turned him down, but a guy like Lloyd can stand hearing the word no only so many times before his invitations become orders, and his orders become violent.

  We’d had our arguments before, but the last time, he’d taken a swing at me. So, I’d swung back . . . with my bat.

  I hadn’t meant to hit him. Just to get close enough that he’d reconsider his insistence about me joining his gang. But the bat had made contact, and with that single swing, I’d bloodied him up but good. By the looks of him now, it didn’t seem like Lloyd was in much of a forgiving mood. If it was just Lloyd standing in front of me, I wouldn’t worry so much. It was his loyal followers that had me on edge.

  “What do you want, Lloyd?”

  “Want? Who says I want anything?” He eyed me with his icy gaze, waiting for a response that I damn sure wasn’t going to give him. I was very aware of the bat in my right hand—the smooth wood, the worn section where I gripped it, the heft of it. When I’d hit him with it before, my chest had tightened in fear. I’d never hit a person with the bat before that—plenty of Rippers, but never a person. It had scared me. I had scared me.

  Without waiting for my answer, he said, “Oh, but wait. I owe you something, don’t I? A little payback for that love tap you gave me last time I saw you.”

  A small snort escaped me. Love tap. It was so like Lloyd to downplay the fact that I’d hit him in the face with a bat, spraying his blood over my hands. It was like him, too, to leave out the part about how he’d begged me not to hit him again before I’d walked away. The truth was, if I’d been a different sort of person, I could’ve killed him. Hell, a small, dark part of me had wanted to. But then I would’ve been no better than he was . . . and if I was anything, I was better than Lloyd.

  He brought the crowbar down off his shoulder, slapping the weight of it into his free hand. The soft sound of heavy metal hitting skin seemed louder than it should have. I swore I could hear the breath enter his nose and exit his mouth, even from several yards away. Funny how your senses could be fine-tuned with an abrupt rise in tension. Suddenly, as my heart began to beat faster, I was very aware that I was on my own.

  There would be no talking my way out of a fight if he wanted one, but I was damn sure going to try. I kept my voice strong and even-keeled. “So, what? You want an apology or something?”

  His eyes gleamed. “For starters. But I sought you out to make you an offer.”

  “I’m not joining your gang, Lloyd.”

  Two of his thugs chuckled. One I recognized as a girl named Susan. I thought the other was a boy called Collins, but I couldn’t be certain. The only thing I was certain of was their stance—poised, eager, like wild animals ready to attack. Lloyd was all that stood between them and me. At that moment, he was both my biggest threat and my temporary savior. I hated him for it.

  “I’m just asking for a favor. There’s a certain stash of booze that none of us are small enough to access. You go in, get the stuff, bring it out to us, and I’ll forget all about our last unfortunate encounter.” He cocked an eyebrow. A small smirk touched his lips. “By the way, how’s Lia doing? I’d hate for anything to happen to her.”

  Dick move, threatening my friend, but no surprise. This was Lloyd, after all. With a sigh, I rolled my eyes. “Where’s the stash?”

  His smirk spread into a satisfied smile. “I knew you’d come ’round. See that house at the end of the block? The big one with the porch? There’s a wine cellar beneath the kitchen. We can’t access it through the basement, and there’s a heavy chunk of broken marble blocking the entrance from the kitchen.”

  The house he was referring to was the biggest on the street. It was also the least battered by time and neglect. “I may be smaller than your goons, Lloyd, but I can’t exactly teleport through walls.”

  His voice dripped with condescension. “A big piece of marble is covering an opening in the floor of the kitchen that leads down to the wine cellar. We can lift the marble, but only about a foot or so, and none of us can wiggle through the opening. That’s where you come in. You crawl inside, hand us any full bottles you find, and we’re finished here.”
<
br />   My need to protect Lia lurked in the back of my mind. “How do I know you’ll help me get out again? How do I know you won’t just leave me there?”

  “The truth?” Lloyd combed his dark hair back from his forehead in a move that might have been somewhat charming if it hadn’t been him. He looked at me—his eyes just as dark—and shrugged. “You don’t know. But then, you never know if you can trust anyone until you give it a try. Do we have a deal or what?”

  I looked up at the sky and gauged how much time I had to spare before night began, and I didn’t look at Lloyd when I gave my answer. “Okay. But no matter what happens, you stay away from Lia.”

  “Not an easy thing to do. She’s just so . . . irresistible. Wouldn’t you say?” His words snapped my eyes to him. I wasn’t sure if he was implying that I had feelings for Lia, or if he was threatening to hurt her in some disgusting way, but I didn’t care for either. With a chuckle, he said, “I’m kidding. Naturally.”

  “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Lloyd led the way down the street to the house in question. Paint was peeling from the columns out front, drawing jagged lines down them that resembled claw marks in the fading light. The porch was large, sagging some on the left side. As we moved up the steps, the boards creaked in protest. We didn’t belong here, and it felt like the house knew it.

  As I stepped through the door into the living room, I took note of the thick layer of dust coating every surface in the room. A sofa and two chairs, all covered in blue floral fabric, surrounded an oval coffee table, on top of which sat some coasters and a deck of cards. The lamp on the end table wore cobwebs like a woman might wear a gown. A mirror hung over the fireplace, so dirty that any images it reflected were muted.

  “In here,” Lloyd called from the next room. Without further examination of the front room, I entered the kitchen, which—apart from the large piece of broken marble countertop lying on the floor—looked just as untouched as the first room had. Lloyd gave me a nod. “It’s under here. You ready?”