Nathan Miller watched them throw the woman from the bridge. She hung in the air before gravity chased her screams to a watery grave.
He started when her body smacked against the river. Water splashed his feet, and Nathan scrambled backward to cover. He raised his bow and notched an arrow aiming up at the bridge. In the silence after the scream, he heard Rebecca Archer’s faint voice floating on the breeze.
“Bring me someone who knows.”
Nathan sighted down the shaft of his arrow. The distance was too great for an accurate shot. He couldn’t see who was up there with her, though suspected Brutalis would be close. She stepped away from the edge of the broken road and vanished from his line of sight.
His breathing remained steady as Nathan lowered his bow and perked up his ears. The warbles of Goldfinches set the surrounding trees to song. The river babbled over rocks in front of him. All else seemed quiet.
Nathan returned the arrow to the quiver strapped on his back. With the touch of a button, he collapsed the bow and hooked it to his belt. He knew Rebecca—or Hije as she named herself—had not seen him, yet the knowledge afforded him no comfort. His skin crawled from the encounter.
Moving downstream, he caught sight of the woman tossed from the bridge. Her body floated facedown near the center of the river, wedged between jutting rocks. He thought about retrieving her, but saw no point.
She’s dead. Not the first Remnant Hije has killed, and she won’t be the last.
Water sloshed around her body as a breeze tickled the nape of his neck.
How did we get to this point? This country survived earthquakes before, why was the one that levelled this place different? How could we allow our leaders to declare it a No Man’s Land, turning those who remained here into Remnants?
The current dislodged her body from the rocks, and carried it away downstream.
These people have been through so much, they don’t need this.
Nathan groaned and turned away. Were it up to him, he’d have put a stop to Hije two years earlier when she first terrorized the Remnant population in what remained of California. But Kahale Archer had made it clear it wasn’t up to him.
And I listened because I had other pursuits to occupy my time.
To enact the terrible vengeance due those who had betrayed and stranded him, Nathan needed to return to Union City. So he had spent every opportunity surveilling the border of the No Man’s Land for a potential chink in its armor. Nothing, and no one would stand in his way.
He adjusted the weight of his quiver and ducked into the bracken. Twigs cracked beneath his boots. Away from the river, the scent of damp earth coated everything. Nathan pushed branches aside and halted. Sobs reached his ears. A large tree rose fifteen feet ahead of him.
Letting the branches go, he unsheathed a knife from his hip. The closer he crept to the tree, the louder the choked sobs grew. Nathan placed a palm against the knobby tree bark and ducked around the massive trunk. On the far side, he found a teenage boy curled up between the protruding roots of the tree. The boy looked up and leaped to his feet.
Nathan recognized the fear in his eyes and held the knife aside. “Relax,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.”
The boy stood rooted to the spot, like a deer caught in headlights. His expression told Nathan he didn’t know what to do.
Nathan slipped his knife back into its holder and asked, “What’s your name?”
The boy shook his head and remained tight-lipped.
Nathan understood—names could be dangerous.
“What are you doing out here?” Nathan asked. The boy mumbled something unintelligible as fresh tears ran down his scarred face. Nathan jerked his head toward the river. “She your mother?”
The boy stared back at him. His blue eyes glistened as he shook his head.
Nathan climbed over a tree root and landed in the hollow close to him. “Who was she to you, then?”
“I . . .” He swallowed and blinked away more tears.
Nathan reached out and rested a reassuring hand on his scrawny shoulder. He knew that look—he’d seen it before. “Hije did something to you, didn’t she?” The boy gave him a slight nod. Nathan narrowed his gaze. “What happened?”
“They . . . raided my camp.”
“Why?”
He looked away. “She was looking for something—she took me to question.”
Nathan asked, “What is she looking for?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She called it a . . . something dei.” His gaze locked on Nathan. “I have no idea what that is.”
Nathan rested against the tree root. “That isn’t what you told her, though. She wouldn’t let you go if you gave her nothing.”
The boy’s chest heaved. He bowed his head and buried his chin against his breastbone. “They . . . they were going to kill me. I had to give them something. I had to give them a name of someone who knew what they wanted to know.”
Nathan nodded. “So you gave them one. How did you know her?”
“She came to live in our camp three months ago.”
Nathan ground his teeth. “She was expendable.”
The boy shook his head. “I didn’t know they’d kill her.”
“Yes, you did.” Nathan glanced behind the boy and noticed a length of rope in the grass. One end was fitted with a noose. He leaned in next to the boy’s ear and whispered, “That won’t change anything.” Nathan leaned back and looked him in the eye. He turned and walked away. “Go home, kid. Before Hije finds you out here. Or someone gives up your name.”
The derelict cabin leaned to one side. A gap near the roofline let the late day sun inside where Nathan knew dust motes would float in the stale air. He unshouldered his pack and dropped it next to the front door. The top hinge still held, but the bottom one had long ago rusted away to nothing. Beneath his boots, the wooden boards groaned, announcing his return home.
Nathan ducked his head as he pushed the door open. The interior smelled of wood smoke and pine oil. Nathan unclipped his bow from his belt and returned his quiver to the rack on the wall.
A voice rose from the back of the room. “Where have you been?”
Nathan’s shoulders tensed. He gripped the rack tighter. Without turning around, he said, “Out.”
“You’ve been gone over a day.”
Nathan turned and stared at Kahale Archer. He glanced around and asked, “Where’s Bryce?”
Archer leaned forward. His face appeared from within the gloom. “He’s out hunting. I don’t suppose that’s something you did?”
Nathan shrugged. “Slim pickings right now.” He walked over to the sink and reached for a tumbler only slightly smudged. The tap shook, and the pipes wailed as water spat out into the basin. It started brown before clearing to a murky yellow. Nathan poured a glass and leaned against the counter.
Archer said, “You were at the border again, weren’t you?”
Nathan took a slow swallow of the pungent water. He grimaced as it slid down his throat. Setting the tumbler aside, he said, “Let’s not go through this again. There’s activity.”
“There’s always activity.” Archer stood and thrust a finger in his direction. “And the more you go there, the more you endanger us all. I’ve told you this how many times now?”
“This is different.” Nathan said, “Something is going on, and we can use it to our advantage. We can escape this place.”
Archer shook his head. “I’ve been telling you for two years, Nate. There is no way out of here. You keep approaching the border, and they will follow you back here—to us. I can’t allow that. No more, Nate. You go to the border again, don’t bother coming back.”
Nathan cocked his head. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I can get us out of here.”
“You can’t. Believing otherwise is dangerous. Your delusion is risking all of our safety.”
Nathan laughed to himself.
Archer took a step forward and asked, “Something funny?”
His laughter ceased, and Nathan hardened his tone. “You calling me delusional because I refuse to rot in this hell hole, when we both know the reason you refuse to leave is your delusional belief you can save Rebecca.” He chuckled. “You know, speaking of things we can’t do.”
Archer grabbed a clutch of arrows and returned to his stool. Like a curtain falling, he disappeared into the shadows. The zing of an arrow across a whetstone filled the room. “You don’t know what it’s like to be a father, Nate. I know I can get through to her.”
Nathan gritted his teeth. “And I know I can find a way out of here.”
Silence descended before Archer resumed sharpening arrows. Nathan knew from experience the futility of this argument.
He refuses to see Rebecca for what she is—no matter what she does.
He grabbed his tumbler and turned it upside down on the drying rack.
“If I were you, though,” Nathan said, “I’d be more concerned about Bryce hunting out there alone than with me scouting the border.”
A final zing echoed in the space. The clink of arrows being set aside followed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nathan turned around and stared into the darkness shrouding his friend. “I came across Rebecca yesterday.” Archer scrambled out of the shadows. His face held the strained hope of a parent who had lost a child. Nathan held his tongue a moment longer. “She was showing a woman how to fly. Didn’t work out too well for the woman.”
Archer’s nostrils flared. “What are you talking about?”
“She threw someone off a bridge.”
Nathan waited to see his reaction, and Archer did not disappoint. Cloaked in denial, he asked, “Why would she do that?”
“She’s looking for something. The woman didn’t have it.”
Archer squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and middle finger. With his head bowed, he said, “This is Crowley’s influence. He’s controlling her somehow.”
“Snap out of it, Key.” Nathan said, “Crowley has been out of the picture since I’ve been stranded here. Everything she’s done has been her choice. It’s on her. And it’s on us because we’ve let her. She has to be stopped.”
Archer glared at him. “You stay away from her.”
“I have. I’ve respected your misguided wishes on this until now. But just because you refuse to see it doesn’t mean I do. Rebecca is no more. You knew that once. Ever since you saw her at the castle, though, you seem to think you can convince her to mend her ways. A daddy-daughter talk will not fix anything. She’s killing innocent people indiscriminately—”
“Something, I’m sure, you know all about.”
They stared each other down until the door opened and Bryce walked in carrying a trap line, four rabbits in tow. He cleared his throat and asked, “I miss something?”
Nathan leaned in and whispered to Archer, “She’s not your little girl anymore.” He pulled back to look Archer in the eyes. “She hasn’t been for a very long time.”
