The Renegades (The Superiors) (16 page)

 

 

Chapter 29

 

Draven
was running again. This time he ran in pursuit, pausing to scent before he sprang
into a tree. He swung forward and sailed through the air to catch a branch,
swinging from one tree to the next with the perfect rhythm of someone who had done
it all his life. His body seemed to know the movement, like a memory stored in
his muscles from some long ago time, though he’d never before known the perfect
freedom of his limbs, the distance he could travel in such a short time, nor
how far he could push his body. But even as he realized it, he watched it fade
more each day.

Only
a week ago he’d had greater strength, could have completed this task more
efficiently and in less time. He thought of when it started. Though he estimated
his increase in strength began when he’d left Sally’s, perhaps he’d only regained
his freedom and his prior strength. Perhaps he’d forgotten it in the eight
months he’d been held captive…but he doubted that. So, he had gained this extra
advantage after he’d left Sally’s. It had to be Angel’s doing. Angel had given
him some sort of power when he pulled that rod out of Draven’s brain, the one
that Byron had used to paralyze him. But Angel had done something else, changed
something.

Usually
Draven felt as he always had. He had no trouble thinking clearly or
remembering. But something else had altered, some slight change in the way he
treated sapiens. That was likely not Angel’s doing but Sally’s. In the
vigilante prison, she had been his only friend. But she had been that. A true
friend, and a sap. Though it seemed impossible for one being to play such
opposing roles, she had. He had loved her, in a way. Not like a pet exactly, as
he’d told Cali. And not like a lover, certainly. But more like…a person. She had
made him see saps as people, and now that he had left her strange backwards
world, he could not quite return saps to the proper place in his mind.

He
tried, and he cursed himself and grew frustrated when he forgot his role in
this small party of runaways. He was their master. Providing for them and
caring for them because they couldn’t do it themselves—those were his
responsibilities. But sometimes he found himself talking to Cali, forgetting
she wasn’t Sally, that she wasn’t a person like him, a Superior. Or he’d look
at her and think something about her that he should only think about Superiors.

He
had yet to readjust to Superior society because he had not gone back. Therein
lay the problem. He’d gone from Sally’s, to living on his own, to taking care
of these two sapiens, and he had not returned himself to the correct place in
society. It seemed only natural that after spending so much time in Sally’s
company, he would see sapiens as she’d made him see them. No one had reminded
him otherwise. He had tried to remind himself, but that endeavor proved
fruitless. He should have applied for papers when he returned to Princeton,
instead of living as a drifter. He should have sorted out his mind, reinstated
himself in the order of the world, before he committed such a blatantly
reckless crime. If he had gotten papered and worked for a few months, he’d have
saved what little he could to take Cali somewhere safe where he could hide her.

But
he hadn’t. He had focused on the revenge rather than what happened after.

This
was what happened after his revenge. He’d been relegated to hunting animals,
something he hadn’t done in a hundred years. But he imagined he’d remember it
well enough in a moment. Releasing the branch he’d swung onto, he came down upon
the deer, struggling to secure his arms about the doe’s neck. The animal shot
forward on a surge of adrenaline, but Draven moved with it, drawing his hunting
knife and sliding it across the animal’s throat in one swift motion. It lurched
forward another few steps before stumbling to a halt and collapsing beneath him.
Before more blood spurted from the wound, Draven lifted the animal’s head and
clamped his mouth on its throat. Fighting his body’s impulse rid himself of
this foreign sap, he continued drawing whatever sustenance he could from the
creature, which lay on its side, still quivering with the impulses firing
through its body even as its muscles ceased movement and its lungs expelled
their last breath.

Long
after the animal had gone limp, Draven drew what he could from its still-warm
body. It mattered little how repulsive the source—he needed energy. He needed strength,
and he needed Cali to be stronger. Once he fed her enough, he could draw from
her again.

His
stomach churned when he’d finished, full but in no way satisfied. He draped the
deer over his shoulders and started back to the camp. The return trip wasn’t so
rapid and freeing as swinging through the trees.

When
he reached camp, Cali and Leo lay sleeping, their chapped faces peeking out of
the tattered blanket. Embers glowed under the ash in the fire pit. A bit at a
time, Draven added small sticks and handfuls of pine needles to the ashes,
blowing on the coals until they glowed. He continued adding fuel to the
smoldering twigs, stoking the fire back to life. When it blazed again, he left
the overhang and went to the creek. He’d lost his tarps to Sally’s people, so
he used the tough plastic bag he’d taken from the store in Princeton to arrange
the meat. The young doe, though it had lived less than a year, had enough meat
on it to feed Cali for days. Draven removed the animal’s entrails, still warm
with life. Though he’d have liked to have a hide blanket, he did not know how
to treat it. Nonetheless, he thought he’d attempt it.

Draven
shook his head and pushed the unwelcome memory away. He began peeling back the
hide, stripping the meat beneath from the bones. An animal moved in the woods
nearby, no doubt drawn by the aroma of blood that rose from the slaughter. He
stopped and listened for a moment before resuming. Again, something stirred in
the trees beyond his sight, and then, very close, he heard the horrible
tortured scream of a woman.

He
leapt over the meat and ran, still clutching the hunting knife. Leo began to wail
just as Draven reached the overhanging rock where he had left his humans. Cali sat
clutching Leo to her chest, her eyes wide with alarm. For a moment, Draven stood
looking at her without comprehension, until the sound repeated itself nearby.
Cali sucked in a shaky breath and her arms tightened around Leo, who squealed
in protest.

“Put
all the wood on the fire,” Draven said, turning even as he spoke. He sprinted
back to the river to find one of the big cats already dragging the carcass
away. Though he had no way of knowing if more lurked nearby, he didn’t imagine
he wanted to find out. The cat had taken the carcass, something Draven had
wanted, too, but already he had more meat than Cali could eat before it
spoiled. He’d rather not fight the panther. The cat growled a long, low sound
deep in its throat and continued dragging the deer’s body. Draven approached
slowly and wrapped the cut meat in the bag, his eyes trained on the panther.

The
guttural growl continued as Draven began to back away, still holding tightly to
the knife. He wondered, if the cat ripped out his throat, if Cali would come looking
for him and take him back to the cave. Not likely. And if other cats lurked
nearby…perhaps they’d leave nothing for her to find.

The
panther shifted, its eyes never leaving Draven. He waited for it to spring from
its crouched position, but it only watched. Another pair of eyes watched from
behind the big cat, but the trees and shadows concealed the other animal’s form.
Draven took another step back, listening for the sounds of other animals. When
he reached the trees at the creek bank’s edge, he turned and fled over the
groundcover of frosted leaves, moving as swiftly as he’d ever moved. He reached
the overhanging area without being overtaken.

At
the camp, Cali stood much as he’d left her, wide-eyed, cradling Leo against her
chest. Her heart beat too fast, but he couldn’t tell if the cats or his sudden
reappearance frightened her. She had followed his bidding and piled the fire
high with broken tree limbs. The blaze sent a plume of smoke into the darkness,
white and pungent, the sharp scent almost as piercing as the chill in the air.

Draven
dragged a few of the burning branches to each end of the overhanging bluff,
making a sort of cave under the ledge of rock. Then he turned his attention the
meat.

“What
was that noise?” Cali asked. “Did you kill someone?”

Draven
chuckled and continued cutting the meat. “No.”

“Well,
what was it?”

“Only
an animal. The scream is eerie, but it won’t harm you. Do not worry.”

“Why
are you covered in blood? Did you kill it?”

He
considered explaining the situation, but it seemed complicated, so he simply
nodded. For a few moments, Cali stood as if waiting, or perhaps trying to
formulate yet another question. But she returned to her blanket without
speaking and crawled under with Leo. Still, she did not sleep, but lay quietly
watching Draven work. For a brief moment, he wondered if she tried to remember
everything he did so she would know how to survive if or when she ran away…or
he was killed. Perhaps he should teach her. But now he had only time to survive,
not teach a sap to hunt. She couldn’t kill a deer the way he did, anyhow.

When
he’d finished cutting the meat into strips, he hung them to dry close to the
fire. Outside the shelter, eyes shone in the darkness, but the animals did not
come closer. The few times Draven had to leave the meat to gather wood, the
animals backed away when he approached, then swept forward again when he returned
to the overhang and left the forest to the animals. He worked through the night,
watching them watch him.

At
dawn, after the predators had slunk away, Draven left his humans sleeping and
crept to the creek to launder his clothing and bathe. Aside from a bit of blood
on the rocks, no trace of the deer remained. He did what he could to wash away
the blood before returning to the cave. In the morning, Leo awakened and cried
for quite some time. Draven did not imagine the child would survive much
longer. But then, he’d been wrong about it surviving even this long. After Cali
fed it, it fell asleep once more, although it kicked and cried from time to
time in its sleep. Having tended to her child, Cali stood slowly and limped to
the fire to settle herself in the glow of its warmth.

When
he noticed her eyeing the charred foil packages in the fire, Draven knelt beside
her and unwrapped one. When possible, he avoided the sizzling juices that oozed
from the crinkled wrapping and scorched his fingers, and ignored the few burns
he sustained. Soon enough, if he fed Cali adequately, he could draw from her,
and thus his minor wounds would heal almost instantly. He cut into the meat to
make certain it had cooked all the way through. His tongue contracted at the
salty, heady aroma and the memory of the pleasure he had once taken from such
things. He pushed the steaming bundle towards Cali.

She
reached for it but jerked back just as Draven released it into her hands. The
foil fell to the ground, spilling moist, oily chunks onto the dirty stone floor.
Cali shrank back, her glance darting to Draven’s face and back to the floor. He
didn’t have to hear her heartbeat or savor her fear to know she was frightened.
He knelt to recover the meat and tossed it into the fire. When he’d cleared
away all but the oily stain at her feet, he stood, noting the flicker of fear
that crossed her face as she stood before him, awaiting her punishment without
flinching. For a moment, he stood motionless, only watching the wonderful
expressiveness of her face. Even frozen in an expression of brave resignation,
it seemed to hold more life, more mutable softness, more capability for change
than a Superior face.

Draven
smiled and slowly ran one greasy finger over the tip of her nose, over her lips
and down her chin.

“There’s
more,” he said, turning back to the fire. “If there weren’t, we’d have simply wiped
away the dirt. It would still taste good.” He set another piece of foil in
front of Cali and unwrapped it. “If you were covered in two inches of dirt, I’d
still want to eat you.” Draven glanced at Cali, who busied herself blowing the
heat from a shred of meat. He’d not meant to scare her with a slip of the
tongue. “Or rather…you know what I meant.”

Watching
Cali eat the food that smelled so appealing, but that he could no longer
consume, Draven’s hunger grew with each bite she took. Leo began to cry, but
Cali paid little attention. After a few minutes, Draven stooped to study the
boy. His cry had weakened in the last few days, much like Draven’s reserve of strength.
Draven waited until the boy had quieted before retrieving his hat and sunshades
from the backpack.

Although
he hated the headaches and the weakness and exhaustion daylight caused, traveling
during the day gave them a lead on the trackers.

“Can
we just stay here today?” Cali asked, watching him adjust the hat over his
face.

“Why?”

“I
don’t know.” She sighed and clambered to her feet. “I’m just so tired of
moving. I just want to sit here all day and rest. We haven’t heard any trackers
or anything, right? Maybe they don’t know where we went and they gave up.”

Draven
chuckled. “They don’t give up.”

“But
they aren’t close, are they?” When he didn’t answer, she pressed on. “Are
they?”

“I
don’t know. It’s safer for us to leave the mountains. Not only because of the
trackers. It won’t be so cold at a lower elevation. If we get snowed in here…I
can survive in the snow for a bit, but I don’t imagine you can.”

“Oh.”

“Is
something bothering you?” he asked. “I have noticed your limp.”

“I’m
just not used to walking so much. My feet are awfully torn up, and my legs are
so sore I wonder that they haven’t fallen off.”

Other books

Nocturne by Helen Humphreys
Follow Your Heart by Barbara Cartland
Concerto to the Memory of an Angel by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt
Kisscut by Karin Slaughter
Southern Storm by Trudeau, Noah Andre
The Spanish Hawk (1969) by Pattinson, James
I Came Out for This? by Lisa Gitlin


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024