Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel (31 page)

He stiffened. "Whose fucked up idea was that?" 

She jabbed his stun-gun into his gut. "Do you want your enemy using your weapon against you?"

He grunted. "At this rate, I won't be able to use it against my enemies."

"Hey, Harry, let the breeder ride you." Wayne leaned against the wagon. "Then we can look at her bouncing tits instead of your hairy ass."

Harlan scraped his stubbled jaw over her cheek and chin then sat up, dragging her up with him. "You want a breeder, buy your own."

Cool air washed down her chest.

Wayne's oily gaze fixed on her.

Sera glanced down. Her shirt was open to her waist. Dammit. Harlan had set her up. She'd shoot him twice for that. And not on the low setting either. Her fingers fumbled with buttons while the men looked on. She was going to need a month of baths to wipe away the feel of them staring at her.

Harlan knelt in front of her, fondling her knees. "Is there anything more beautiful than a bed-worn woman in the morning?"

"Yeah," Wayne leered "A naked woman. Don't matter what time o' day it is though."

His five men laughed.

It was a hideous sound. She sank back on her heels. She'd shoot Wayne first, then the man on the bench seat. She could drive a team. It hadn't been hard at all on the simulations.

"In fact." Wayne tugged at his belt buckle. "We want your breeder to get naked right now."

Harlan pulled his knife from his boot and crouched in the back of the wagon bed. "I don't think so."

Two men on the left drew swords. Wayne and the two men bracketing him pulled knives from their scabbards. The driver didn’t move.

Sera rose up so her skirts ballooned over the weapons. "Harlan? You ain't gonna let these men have me, are you?"

She leaned close to him and switched the weapons while pretending to find her balance. Thumbing off the safety, she felt the weapons charge. Good to go. Of course, now they were taking on six men plus all the ‘Viders.

That would put their odds at several hundred to one.

She loved a challenge but that was a bit ridiculous.

“Stay down, Peaches.” Harlan raked his hand through the straw until he encountered the stun-gun.

“Harry here don’t have a choice.” Wayne didn’t come closer but waved his knife toward Harlan. “Now you gotta make us happy.”

Sera eased her finger onto the trigger but kept the weapon hidden. As soon as Harlan gave the signal, she’d fire.

“I really don’t like being called Harry,” Harlan growled.

“Whoa. Whoa.” The driver sawed on the reins and the wagon lurched to a stop.

Sera’s shoulder rammed into the back of the bench seat but she kept her footing.

Before she could raise her gun, Harlan pushed her down. “‘Viders. Hide your weapons. Act innocent.”

Innocent? The ‘Viders didn’t care about innocent. They ate innocent for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Maybe even a midnight snack. She should be fighting.

They should be fighting.

Harlan rolled back, shielded her with his body.

Sera looked up.

Forty ‘Viders lined the low ridge. Knives, axes and scythes glinted in the sun. Black swirled over their shaved heads and their features were settled in hard lines.

Her heart dropped near her knees. She swallowed hard and shoved the guns deep in the straw. Ho-ly shit. They didn’t stand a chance. But surrender? A flame kindled deep inside her. None of her ancestors had ever retreated.

The horse jingled in his harness and stamped his hooves.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sera watched ‘Viders materialize from the shadows——Hell was vomiting demons.

Of course, her kin were never averse to advancing in the opposite direction.

One of the ‘Viders grabbed the horse’s head, yanked it down and looked it in the eyes.

The stallion peed a long arc of yellow.

Christ Almighty. Sera fisted the back of Harlan’s shirt. She was so out of her element. “No wonder you offered to let me shoot you.”

He didn’t think they were going to survive.

Harlan winked at her. “Everything is going according to plan.”

Her jaw dropped open. Getting captured was a plan? “Which one, double Z?”

Wayne’s knife wavered. “Are you the mighty ‘Viders?”

A thin ‘Vider stepped forward. Scars writhed over his forearms. “We are.”

Good Lord, it was a woman. A female ‘Vider. Was this the leader Harlan had spoken of? Sera swallowed the lump in her throat. Maybe she could take her. But, her self-defense training seemed so civilized compared to the ‘Viders.

Harlan wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close. “Act weak, meek. Don’t make eye contact. Don’t say a word. Stay alive for as long as you can.”

She nodded. He was the expert. He’d been stealing from the ‘Viders for years. He’d... Oh Lord. She clutched his side. No, that couldn’t be right.

Wayne flashed yellow teeth and pointed to the wagon. “I give you the raider leader, Harlan Westminster.”

Shit. They’d been set up. She jerked her gun out of its hiding space and pressed it into his hand. There was one chance to get him out of this alive. One he probably wouldn’t appreciate.

Harlan shook his head, pushed the gun away. “Raider? What are you talking about, Wayne?”

“He isn’t a raider.” Sera bit her lip. There wasn’t time to tell him her plan. She’d have to wing it. “You’re just jealous, Wayne, because I chose Harry over you.”

From her peripheral vision, she watched the ‘Viders climb down the ridge.

“The bitch is mine.” Wayne’s horse cantered forward.

A ‘Vider stumbled into his path and the horse shied away.

“Enough.” The woman ‘Vider jerked her head and the men rushed forward. “Take them all.”

Sera fired the stun-gun.

Harlan’s body arched. Blue light danced over his white teeth. Then he collapsed, face first in the straw.

She fell back into the wagon. Splinters bit into her palm as she pushed the weapon into its hiding spot.

“Hey, the mayor sent us!” Wayne shouted.

A war cry split the air, and the hair on her nape stood at attention, tried to march off her body. Good Lord, it was worse up close and personal than on the video. She flung herself across Harlan’s body and hung onto his shoulders.

The wagon dipped. The woman ‘Vider leapt onto the bench seat and pressed her axe against the driver’s throat. “Drive.”

The wagon rolled slowly forward.

‘Viders fell into step around her. Behind them, Wayne and his men were yanked from their horses. With a swat to their backsides, the 'Viders sent the animals running. Then the bald barbarians punched and pummeled Wayne and his men until they fell, then they were kicked. Bone crunched. Cries split the air.

Sera covered her ears. Meek and mild. She had to find a way to stay alive.

After a while, the ‘Viders herded Wayne and his men into a staggering clump and drove them forward at the point of spears, swords and knives.

And God willing, she’d keep Harlan alive, too.

All she needed was a miracle.

Chapter 36

Harlan inhaled dust and hay. Coughing, he pushed against the wagon bed, trying to rise. His entire body throbbed in protest. Shaking his head, he tried to clear it of the fog wrapping his thoughts. He'd felt like this once before, when he'd spent time with the Mayor of Abaddon.

A warm hand cupped his elbow, eased his body into that torturous position known as sitting. Something cold touched his lips.

"Drink this. It'll help you recover."

Sera.

"You shot me." Swallowing the water, he blinked his vision into focus, then wished he hadn't.

Severed heads stared, mounted on poles. Men and women, eight in total. Their mouths remained open in silent screams. Many had cuts and broken teeth. The rest had probably been invited for dinner——as the entree.

"Only for your own good." Sera eased the canteen away from his lips, swiped a water droplet off his chin.

He slanted her a glance. Bits of straw clung to her hair, but other than that she appeared unharmed. Then again, the 'Viders rarely harmed the tributes until they had them under control. "How is knocking me out of the fight a good thing?"

The last time he'd been shocked, he'd needed months to recover. With this lot he didn't have months. He had minutes. Now he wouldn't be at his best, and they'd probably kill him.

And her.

He should have left without her. She didn't belong in this world.

Thanks to him, she'd probably die in it.

"The alternative isn't pretty." Pressing a ration bar into his hand, Sera jerked her head behind them.

Six 'Viders walked around the wagon. They pounded on their arm guards with the flat of their weapons in time to their steps. A dozen guarded Wayne and his men. They shambled along in a beating-induced haze, worsened by the occasional smacking by their escorts.

The hair on Harlan's neck rose. No doubt about it, they were under the 'Viders' control, yet here he and Sera sat in the lap of hay luxury. What was going on?

He ate the bar by route——raise, bite, chew, swallow. Tasting wasn't necessary. Too bad, it might be his last meal. Buildings, with bowed beams, cracked foundations and peeled paint, crowded the road.

The sun bleached a pile of bones thrown into an empty field. Human skulls, still strapped with flesh, but stripped of hair, stared back at them. Flies buzzed around an open sewer draining into the field. The wagon trundled past a clock tower missing its hands.

Barbed wire roped off the center square. Several guards stood around, holding back the prisoners.

Their footprints mashed the green grass. Many people sat in clumps, unseeing eyes staring out at the town. A four-foot wide strip of space divided the prisoners——single men on one side and families on the other.

Harlan scanned the men's faces. Where they planning to make a break for it, fight the 'Viders? Nah, they faced their former friends and neighbors. The family men, women and children now had to fight the single men and the 'Viders to survive.

"I think they're saving you for something special." She swallowed hard, picked at the edges of her bar. "I thought by saying you fainted, they would think you're too chicken to be a raider."

"Thanks." Maybe. Being chicken didn't exactly sit well with him. Still, she'd tried to save him. That counted for something. Not many had stuck their necks out for him after his village had fallen.

Even his old friends, the Aces and Eights, had betrayed him. Of course, she was a naive do-gooder whose good intentions weren't practical in the Outlands.

He should have done a better job protecting her.

Wrapping her uneaten bar, she returned it to her pack. "Is it usual for the 'Viders to keep the bearers of tributes?"

Licking the crumbs off the bar's wrapper, Harlan cast his memories back. Tributes exchanged, each had ridden separate direction. "Never have before."

"So the status quo has changed."

"And I don't think we're going to benefit from it." Harlan crushed the wrapper in his fist. Since he'd never heard of anyone escaping the 'Viders, he had to find a way to keep her alive. His sister was the best option, she'd stayed alive ten years. She must know how to work the system. She'd have to teach Sera.

Of course, the woman was so stubborn, she'd probably refuse to learn. "Listen, Sera..."

She set her finger over his lips and jerked her head to the 'Vider on the seat. "I know what you were going to say and I don't want to hear it."

Grabbing Sera's wrist, he pulled her finger away from his lips and held it against his chest. The wagon was slowing. He didn't have much time. "I need you to listen to me."

Sera shook her head. "Save your breath."

The wagon stopped. The tributes pressed against the barbed wire, craning their necks to get a better look. Free prisoners and 'Viders crowded the wagon.

"Stubborn idiot." Harlan shoved Sera behind him, away from the pawing of the 'Viders. "Don't you know I'm trying to save your life?"

"Right back at you." She took hold of her hair and pulled it from grabbing hands. Then she hissed.

From the corner of his eye, he saw her head pulled back.

The 'Vider on the seat set her knife against Sera's jugular. "Make jerky out of the Mayor's raiders."

Harlan flinched at the roar. Bloodthirsty lot.

Sera grabbed his shirt, held on tight.

Still cheering, 'Viders around the camp pounded their armor with their weapons. The cannibals grabbed and yanked on Wayne and his men, stripping them of their possessions, until naked. When the Aces and Eights resisted, they were pummeled with the butts of weapons until unconscious and dragged.

Two 'Viders latched onto Harlan's arms.

"No!" Sera held tight to his shirt and was pulled forward with him. Blood trickled down her throat.

God, she was going to get herself killed. Harlan plucked at her fingers. "Let go, Sera."

She clamped her lips together.

"Not Harlan Westminster." The female 'Vider holding Sera shouted.

Harlan was immediately released. Damn, they did have something special planned for him. He had a feeling he'd wish they killed him outright before they finished with him.

Should he go for the gun, shoot her? It would be a mercy.

The female 'Vider released Sera and rose. "Keep the bonds long. I want their bones to snap."

Their 'Vider guard closed around the wagon.

No chance of escape here.

Sera reeled Harlan against her and threw her arms around his neck. "I have a plan out of here. Just stay alive. Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

Setting his hands on her shoulder, he held her a little away from him. He locked gazes with her. "New rule: if you see a chance, take it. Even if I'm not there. Promise me."

She opened her mouth.

To argue no doubt, she was good at that. "You owe me, Sera."

Her teeth clicked together. "You promise not to do anything stupid to get yourself killed, and I'll keep mine."

"Deal." Harlan shrugged. Stupid was a matter of opinion and his was the only one that counted.

He grabbed his pack and had it ripped from his hands. Harlan forced his fists to his sides.