Alive Like Us Page 29

  Bitten. I’ve been...bitten. Time slowed as she sprawled onto the snow, her body leaden, her mangled arm cradled to her chest. Blood seeped from the grisly mess of muscle and tissue. The infection was working up her arm darkening her veins along the way.

  Hot tears dripped from her eyes, leaving a burning path down her frozen cheeks. She felt the life seep out of her, like heat escaping out of an opened window, leaving only barren coldness within.

  She would not die. Not here. She would not become the very thing she hated.

  Her vision dimmed.

  Kai shouted, his voice a distant echo. Sanna tilted her head up and saw him jump on the Alpha’s back, stabbing her with a dagger. The Alpha screeched, throwing him off. Kai landed a few feet away and Sanna waited for him to get up. To move.

  He didn’t.

  The Alpha’s bloodied gaze locked with her own, her blood-soaked mouth curled into a toothy semblance of a smile.

  Twig’s horrible, sickly laugh reverberated through her thoughts.

  Kai. She had to save him. Even if it was the last thing she did as a human.

  She opened her eyes and gasped. Icy air filled her lungs. The night sky stretched above her and stars—thousands of them—glittered like broken glass. She rolled over to her side and coughed, spitting black blood. The world around her dimmed, then glowed with saturated colors.

  She braced her good hand on the snow and rose to her knees. Her wounded arm hung uselessly from her shoulder socket, paralyzed by the infection.

  The Alpha crept towards Kai’s crumpled form.

  Sanna gritted her teeth, forcing herself to stand. The space between her and Kai seemed to stretch into infinity as she followed the Alpha.

  A crackling noise filled her ears. Black clouds threatened her vision. She struggled to move faster, even as her body was being turned into stone.

  Images of Kai flooded Sanna’s mind like photographs scattered across the floor. His serious expression, the way he carried his shoulders as if the world was on them. The soft warmth of his lips.

  She would not let the Alpha hurt him.

  A flame flickered inside her and roared to life. Heat poured down her limbs like molten metal, transforming her into a creature not of this world, but a dark, primordial place. Power surged through her, hot and bright as lightning.

  The forest melted away along with every part of her that was human as she tackled the Alpha, driving the creature into the nearest trailer with such incredible force that it rocked on its foundation and came crashing down upon them, knocking Sanna into another time and place.

  Into memories that were not her own.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Rain pummeled the roof in a never-ending onslaught. Some managed to seep through the holes Cate hadn’t had time to fix, thanks to the baby’s early birth. Water dripped into the motley assortment of buckets, pots and cups scattered across the dirt floor of the cabin. Cate feared that much like the rain coming through the roof, their enemies would find the tiniest weakness in Adam’s defenses. If that happened, if they got through him, death was almost certain.

  Adam had gone out in search of them, hoping to draw them away from this hidden place. Since then, every hour had passed slower than the one before, and Cate’s stomach turned itself into knot after knot.

  “We should leave. The Omega already knows we’re here, so what’s the point in staying?” Cate whispered to the strange woman sitting at the table. Iris was Adam’s devoted servant, whose every waking moment centered around him with the same constancy as the earth revolved around the sun.

  “He asked us to,” Iris said, her expression vacant. She could go days without moving or making a single sound.

  And that was enough. If he told Iris to drink poison, or set herself on fire, or carve out her own heart, that would be enough, too. Though none of those things would actually kill her.

  Cate was not a servant, so she did not have the same clarity of mind. “The fight must be over by now, right? I still can’t believe they found us so quickly.”

  Iris didn’t answer, leaving Cate to her worries.

  Something’s wrong. Terribly wrong. The metallic scent of ozone, mingled with the smoky remnants of the fire Iris had extinguished hours earlier, became suffocating. Cate stepped around the many bowls and buckets, and crept to the window, hoping for a glimpse of something. Anything.

  “Stop,” Iris hissed. “They could be watching.”

  Cate pressed her spine into the wall and lifted the curtain’s edge. Rain pelted the glass, obscuring her vision, but she could make out the emerald angles of the pine trees and the carpet of tall grass between them and the forest. A bolt of lightning crackled across the sky, flooding the meadow with stark light. There was no sign of Adam anywhere.

  The baby in her arms sneezed, her tiny fists jabbing the air. She looked down at the little moon of a face and saw so much of Adam she couldn’t help but smile. “Shhh, it’s okay.” She held the infant to her shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent. “Everything will be okay.”

  Iris shot out from behind. “Get away from there!”

  The window shattered. Cate instinctively tucked herself around the baby as shards of glass rained down. A ghost-gray hand reached through the jagged opening. Dark blood dripped from its fingers.

  Iris grabbed Cate's arm, pulling her away with surprising force. A creature unlike any Cate had ever seen slid through the opening. It had four long ropy arms and a face caught between man and insect. Its eyes, however, were devastatingly human.

  “Run!” Iris dragged her to the back door.

  They sprinted through the woods, the rain soaking through their clothes as the thick mud sucked at their shoes. The baby’s cries grew louder and more insistent. Iris dragged her deeper into the forest, not looking back, not slowing down. Branches snapped behind them as the monster followed in pursuit.

  “Adam’s dead, isn’t he? I thought Omegas couldn’t die,” Cate cried as she ran. Her strength was waning. Iris might be able to go on forever, but she was only human. "What was that thing?"

  "A hybrid."

  "What?"

  "Two creatures stitched together using the virus," Iris said, her voice as flat and emotionless as always. “Now run. It’ll kill us all if it catches us.”

  Cate dug her heels into the soft earth and thrust the baby into her arms. “Take her.”

  Iris recoiled, her lips curling in disgust. “I don’t want it.”

  “Please,” she begged. “You can outrun them. It’s what Adam would’ve wanted. Take her to my mother—she lives in New Hope. Her name is Viola Blackwood. She’s a doctor.”

  “If he really is dead,” Iris said as she awkwardly accepted the bundle. “It’s because of the human things you’ve given him.”

  Iris disappeared into the forest. Cate headed west instead, her arms empty and her heart breaking. She would distract the monster as long as she could. Long enough for Iris to put distance between the baby and this awful place.

  Adam stumbled into view, his white-blond hair plastered to his pale face and his tall, lean body hunched over. Blood, dark as ink, spread across his shirt front. Still, her heart sung as she called out. “Adam!”

  He stared at her, pain etching deep lines into his angelic face. “Where is it?”

  “She, Adam. She’s with Iris.” Cate took his arm, supporting him. “Let me help you.”

  “I’m not healing as fast,” he said bitterly. “I think I’m becoming too human.” He showed her his palm, where red laced his otherwise black blood. “You should go—”

  “No. We’ll get out of this together.”

  “Then we’ll die together.” He attempted to extricate himself from her embrace, but Cate held strong. “It needs one of us to live, right? Iris will eat it if you leave her alone for too long.”

  “I don’t think she will. She loves you, even if she doesn’t realize it. She’d never do anything to hurt you. We’ll hide in the falls, like we planned.”


  They hurried onward, as fast as Adam’s wound would allow. The rain pelted them, fat drops smacking against their skin and faces. Trees thinned, giving way to the rocky bank of the river, swollen and raging from the spring downpour. The roar of the falls was deafening, the water surging over the edge and crashing onto the rocks below.

  “This way.” Cate headed for the falls. Once they slipped behind the veil of water, it would drown out their scent. Then she could tend to the grisly wound in Adam’s side. Had he been human, he would have already succumbed to it.

  A gray blur shot out from the tree line and suddenly a wolf-hybrid was blocking their path. Human skin stretched over its elongated snout, dotted with tuffs of gray fur. Its twisted, malformed jaws were caught in a perpetual snarl. A mane of gray hair covered his head and back, but dark human skin remained on his neck and wide, muscular chest. His elongated hands, a mix of human and canine, reached past his knees, which were bent at an agonizing angle.

  “Stay back.” Adam stepped in front of Cate.

  A silvery laugh tittered behind them, reminding Cate of poisoned candy. She whirled around and found a tall, narrow woman standing near a large boulder. Her face was plain, with hard, small eyes the color of granite and a needle-sharp nose. Her lips were chalky white and spread into a menacing grin, revealing sharp, pointed teeth.

  “What is this?" her dead gaze shifted from Adam to Cate. A shadowy network of capillaries and veins was barely hidden beneath her smooth, sallow skin. “Are you protecting a human?”

  “What do you want?” Adam shifted his stance to keep an eye on them both.

  The woman’s dark brows furrowed. “You left...in search of answers, yes? Tell me, did this human give them to you?”

  “She is not important,” Adam ground out, gripping the wound at his side. “Why are you here?”

  “We need you. The humans are proving more difficult than we thought. I told the others I would bring you back myself since the hybrids I sent never returned.”

  “I can’t,” Adam said. “I won’t live that long.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic." The woman waved off his concern. “Eat that human and you’ll be fine. Though, come to think of it, your smell has changed. I almost thought there were two of you. Wait...” her gaze shifted to Cate’s belly. “Are there two of you?”

  Adam tensed beside her. “Run.”

  He tackled the wolf hybrid as Cate sprinted downstream, leaping from rock to rock. A figure charged out from the forest, a blend between elk and human. His antlers buried into her stomach and drove her up into the air. He shook her off with a mighty thrash of its head.

  Cate crumpled. Her body went cold as wet warmth spread across her belly and thighs. She wasn’t going to make it, no matter how much she willed the bleeding to stop. The wound was far too serious.

  Her mother had been right—she never looked before she leaped.

  Adam appeared above her, half his face glistening with blood too dark to be human. He studied the wound on her abdomen. His jaw tensed. “Your medicine cannot fix this.”

  “You’re right.” Cate coughed, tasting blood. “It can’t. Go. Now. One of us has to live, remember? One of us has to keep our child safe.”

  “They will keep coming. They will send their hybrids after me, and when they don’t return, the Omegas and their servants will follow. I cannot stay here.”

  “Then take her with you.”

  “They’ll kill her. Her existence is a threat.” Adam frowned, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “If I change you, you will become an Alpha much faster than most. You’ll be drawn to her scent since it is similar to mine. It is risky, though. If she remains human, you might kill her.”

  “She’ll take after you. I’m sure of it. Have you heard her cry? She has the lungs of an Omega already.”

  His lips quirked a brittle half-smile. He seemed so calm. Detached. As if the man she’d loved had slipped away and the strange, emotionless creature she’d met two years ago had returned. His gaze locked with hers.

  “Listen to me, Cate Blackwood. One day soon you’ll wake up from your Alpha state and become an Omega. I’ll wait for you, understand? For as long as it takes. I’ll help you remember about us. About our daughter. This is not the end. I swear.”

  His lips brushed her neck, so soft and tender she barely felt his fangs pierce her skin, or the fiery burn of the potent virus as it pumped through her body and sealed her torn flesh.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Sanna woke with a gasp, shaking off the vision that had swamped her. She was back in the present. A massive iron wall crushed her into the snow, its rusty rivets nearly brushing her nose. Had Cerise’s trailer fallen on her? A boulder near her leg had kept it from smashing her like a bug.

  “Sanna?” Kai’s voice was strained. Weak.

  Footsteps smacked through the mud nearby. She shifted, looking towards the sliver of light where his boots appeared. Sanna tried to wiggle towards them but weight bore down, pinning her.

  “I’m here. I’m stuck.” Her throat felt like it was stuffed with nails.

  Kai peered under the trailer. His eyes widened when he saw something over Sanna’s shoulder. “I’ll get you out. Hold on.”

  He disappeared, his footsteps fading.

  A low growl came from Sanna’s other side. She couldn’t turn her head to see what it was. She didn’t need to. The Alpha was pinned under the trailer too, and it had awoken.

  Sanna’s pulse raced. If Kai got her out, he’d let the Alpha out as well.

  A wooden plank jammed underneath the trailer. The pressure eased off Sanna as the tiny crack of moonlight widened. She crawled towards it. The Alpha snarled.

  Kai reached in and grabbed her arm as she neared, dragging her out into the night. The air felt cool on her fiery skin. He helped her up and she leaned against him, her strength drained. All around her were the bodies of the dead, some in the throes of infection while others remained corpses.

  I might be joining them soon. She tasted metal in her mouth. A thousand invisible needles pricked her body, radiating from the Alpha's bite on her arm.

  The trailer groaned, tipping upward, slowly at first, then it rocked to its other side with a thunderous boom. The Alpha rose, her lean, muscular body silvery in the moonlight. One arm was broken, and one wing was crushed. She hobbled, slowly at first, but then the shadowy veins pulsed beneath her skin and the wet sound of mending tissue and bone filled the air. As she drew closer, Sanna noticed the small ring of scars on her neck. Teeth marks.

  “Mom?” she gasped. It had to be, right? In her vision, she’d just seen the Alpha’s last human memories. Iris had been there. Her father had been too. Sanna could still see the man’s smooth, chiseled face and brilliant blue eyes...and the moment he'd bitten her mother's neck.

  Kai pulled Sanna behind him, snatching a sword from the ground. He swung. “Stay away!”

  The Alpha averted. He tried again and she leapt onto the overturned trailer, her head cocking to one side.

  Kai fell to his knees, the sword clanging to the ground beside him. The familiar tang of his blood snapped Sanna back to the present. She sank down, studying the wound Cerise had given him. The puncture was short and deep, and filled her with a sense of icy dread.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” Kai said.

  “No,” Sanna lied. “But between this and your shoulder, I’d say you’ve had a pretty bad day.”

  There was a lot of blood. Too much. She yanked a scarf off of a nearby corpse and pressed it to his side. Kai gritted his teeth. “Here,” she took his hand and replaced her own. “Hold this as tight as you can.”

  Kai did as she asked, grimacing. “You should leave me. If you follow the creek—”

  “Shh. Save your strength.”

  She surveyed the area, searching for anything that might help him. The Infected had returned, creeping along the edge of the camp like giant rats. A few brave ones pounced on the half-eaten kills and resumed their greedy feasting. A body in gray
fatigues writhed, the virus taking over. It was only a matter of time before they smelled Kai’s fresh blood, and the Alpha was rousted from her eerie stupor.

  Sanna’s gaze caught on an inverted sled nearby, next to a heap of firewood. She rushed over to it, grabbing the sled’s lead. She froze.

  The Infected were staring right at her.

  Every last one of them. Blood stained their gaunt faces and their bellies were distended from recent gorging.

  Twig was in the center of camp, skin hanging from his jawbone like old rags. He shuffled closer; his limp more pronounced and his eyes like white marbles stuffed into grisly sockets. “Kill her. Bring me the human. Now.”

  The Infected surged forward. Sanna took up Kai’s sword as a stage two took a running leap, its scabby arms outstretched. She swung and missed. This was it. She’d failed—

  The Alpha grabbed the stage two in midair, slamming it to the ground.

  “Impossible,” Twig gasped, blood oozing from the exposed musculature of his face.

  The stage two rose onto all fours and reared his head, shooting venom. The Alpha ducked, but a few drops sizzled on her ashen cheek, burrowing deep. She howled, stomping the stage two’s neck.

  A stage one attacked next, but the Alpha threw him into the crowd, knocking over several others. More pounced in unison. The Alpha held her own, snapping and snarling as she flung them off with ease.

  She’s defending me, like the Infected from the basement. But why? Sanna hadn’t defeated her in a fight for dominance.

  A stage one leapt over the others, its claws reaching for the Alpha’s neck. Sanna lurched into action, cutting it down with a single blow to the head. It sagged to the ground, lifeless.

  More Infected poured out from the forest, joining the horde. Corpses scattered throughout the campground twitched to life. Sanna and the Alpha were locked in separate battles, fighting the endless stream of Infected with brutal efficiency.

  “Kill them!” Twig shrieked, falling to his knees. “Kill them both!”