Shadows (Ashes Trilogy 2)

“Has it ever been so bad?” Lena persisted. “With the Changed coming after you? This is the fourth kid in two days.”

“I don’t know much about this area,” he said, unrolling Kerlix around Nathan’s wound. “Any time I’ve gone east of Rule, it’s always been with a big group where we had lots of guys and guns and dogs. Nathan?”

The old man only shook his head. “All those prints and bone mounds we’ve found are old. We haven’t run across a single homestead or group of survivors, young or old.”

“Maybe they ran away,” Lena said.

“Or they’re all dead,” Nathan said. “My point is this: there’s no fresh meat, anywhere. There shouldn’t be Changed around here at all, right? So what’s the story with that little stash of bodies we found in the school?”

Oh boy. He’d never considered that possibility. “You’re talking a storehouse, like a . . . a meat locker.”

“I’m talking exactly that.” Nathan pulled in a sudden hiss of pain, exposing yellowing teeth and gums that were the color of putty. “I don’t think that’s a very good sign, do you?”

“You mean, there’ll be more?” Lena’s voice was tremulous. “Like, they might be coming now?”

“There are no fresh prints,” Chris said. This private school was secluded and lay at the end of a quarter-mile driveway, and theirs were the only tracks. From the lie of the land, this whole area looked like it had once been pasture. Other than a football field and bleachers humped with snow, there were no other buildings, and the nearest woods were a good half mile distant.

“I don’t know enough to understand what that means,” Nathan said.

He didn’t either. “So what do you think? Stay or go?”

“We should stay,” Lena said. “You said yourself, the prints are old. Look at this.” She used the toe of her boot to scuff a white bloom of icy powder. “It snowed again just last night. This is all fresh. You can tell we’re the only ones who’ve been through.”

“I’m not wild about either choice,” Nathan said, “but we’ve been on the move almost continuously for the last twenty hours. The horses are done in, and humping it back into any kind of woods with good cover means another two, three hours. If the animals were rested and we had some decent moon to light the way, it might be a different story.” After eleven days on the road, Nathan’s skin was drawn and his cheeks hollowed from lack of rest and poor food. “Even if we make it to the woods, sun’s gonna go before we can make camp.”

“We should stay,” Lena repeated. “He was probably alone. This might just have been this kid’s private stash. The others would’ve come out already, right? With no fresh tracks, that means there’s been nobody else in at least two days. We can barricade ourselves in somewhere on the second floor. If we get rid of the body and bring the horses in, maybe no one will know we’re here.”

Those were all good points. Chris’s eyes flicked back to the dead boy. The Changed was young, no more than thirteen, and looked healthy—well, aside from being dead. He was dressed for the weather, too. He studied the kid’s face, which still had a trace of baby fat under the chin. Eating pretty well, too. So maybe he was only defending his stash. But he had to know we’re no threat to that. And the only person he went for was—

“Chris?” Lena said.

“Give me a second.” The kid chose Lena. He could have taken Nathan or me. He could have left us alone. But he had to get at her—and he risked his life to do it.

God, he didn’t like where this line of thought was going. It might be nothing. But he thought he knew a way to test that.

“Okay.” He let out a long breath. “I vote we stay. Nathan, there’s a corner room on the second floor just above us, with windows east and north, and another on a diagonal south and west. We’ll have a good shot at seeing anything coming.” Stooping, he bent and hooked his hands under the dead boy’s pits. “Lena, let’s get him out of sight and then cover over the blood.”

Lena looked about as thrilled as if he’d asked her to pick up dog crap, but she only nodded. “It’ll be okay,” she said, grabbing the kid’s ankles. “It can’t be any more dangerous than the woods.”

That was when he lied to her for the first time.

“Yeah,” he said. “Probably not.”

61

“Here.” Sliding to a sit beside him at his lookout, Lena handed him a steaming aluminum camp cup. “I made you some tea.”

“Thanks,” he said, mildly surprised. He’d left Lena and Nathan next door in what had once been a chemistry lab. The room was downwind, but they’d used duct tape along the seams and under the door, just in case. The horses were in the gym because there were no windows and the one exit was easier to block off. The horses would leave mounds of crap on the basketball court, but he couldn’t think of a soul who would care. He cradled the hot metal in both hands. The steam was sweet and smelled orange. “How come you’re awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep. I’m too wired, and my ears are cold. I can’t remember where I put my scarf either. Nathan’s out, though.” Her face was a dull silver glimmer in the darkness. “Anything going on?”

“Nope.” Full dark had come six hours ago. A thumbnail of moon sprayed the snow a dank, dim verdigris like corroded bronze.

“So maybe there are no others.”

“That would be nice.” He sipped. The tea was very hot but tasted good. “How are you feeling?”

“Not so great.” She paused, then added, “I need some decent sleep.”

And something in your stomach. “So go back to bed.”

“In a little while,” she said. “I don’t want to be alone in there.”

“Nathan’s there.”

“You know what I mean. I feel better when I’m with you.” He wasn’t sure how to reply, and didn’t. They sat in silence a moment longer, and then she said, “Do I talk in my sleep?”

“Uh.” He blew on his tea and said, carefully, “Sometimes.”

Her face swiveled his way, but he might as well have tried reading the expression of a shadow. “What do I say?”

He sipped tea as a delaying tactic and scalded the roof of his mouth. “Just stuff.”