Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel (32 page)

BOOK: Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel
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The 'Vider tore the crossbow from the shoulder strap and handed it to the female on the seat.

She fingered the arrows' black feathers. "Bring them to the jury building."

Harlan was hauled over the side of the wagon and dropped. He landed on all fours, then sprang to his feet. No way was he giving them an opportunity to kick him.

A massive 'Vider, whose face was lined with age, grabbed Sera by the hair and steered her in front of him.

A crone with gray hair scuttled forward. In one arm, she cradled the pouches of gold that had been stripped from Wayne and his men. Her fingers snapped like pinschers around his pack. "Give me their possessions."

 The female 'Vider backhanded the crone. "Tribute does not give orders."

The old woman cowered, but hatred blazed in her eyes. "I am the dame of the Head Provider, Brolyn."

Brolyn, the 'Vider, yanked the pouches from the crone's hold and tossed it into the pens. "Soon you will be a Lesson."

The bags burst open upon hitting, and gold jewelry sprayed the ground.

"Get back. Back!" The old woman scuttled forward, slipped between the barbs and clawed at the spilled gold. "Touch any of it and my 'Vider will eat you."

The groups fell back, watching but not touching, or making a move to help.

Harlan was shoved forward. Why did the woman value gold? It didn't make any sense. His escort led him past Wayne and his men.

One 'Vider pounded stakes into the ground. Another pulled dripping leather thongs from a bucket of water. Wayne was splayed on the ground, bounded to the stakes by the wet leather. The sun beat down on his pasty flesh. It would soon dry the thongs, shrinking them and pulling Wayne's limbs from his sockets.

Harlan licked his lips. Oh, that was a nasty way to die.

Shoving and prodding, the 'Viders drove him up the steps of the clock building. Sera was dragged through the doorway ahead of him. The foolish woman was fighting the 'Viders. What was she thinking?

He closed his eyes before stumbling over the threshold. When he opened his eyes, he could see just fine. A curving stairway led to the upper story. Brown pimples stained what was left of the ceiling. Green moss grew in the flaked and cracked plaster. The air smelled of mold and blood. Pink tinged the puddles on the floor.

The old 'Vider secured Sera's wrists to a metal bannister, so high she had to stand on her toes.

Harlan's guards swept his legs out from under him. He landed on his ass. The sting raced up his spine. Son of a bitch.

Blades were pointed at his head.

Brolyn tossed Sera's pack onto his in the center of the room. "If you attempt to free your wife, I will declare her community property and every man will have her for his pleasure."

Harlan stayed so still his ass might as well have been glued to the floor. Well, hell, guess he couldn't disown Sera.

Sera's eyes narrowed and she yanked on her bonds.

The tip of Brolyn's sword scratched the floor. She stopped next to Harlan. "If you attempt to leave, I will kill your kin, Mirabelle. And you will have come all this way to watch her die." 

Harlan's shoulders sagged. Ah fuck. He wasn't just beat; he was mashed into a pulp.

 

Chapter 37

 

Belle pushed open the door of her house and stepped outside. A 'Vider cheer rattled the remaining windows. God, she hoped Titan wasn't teaching someone a public lesson again. Behind her, the young woman, Ester, whom Belle had claimed as tribute, hummed while scrubbing the living-room floor.

Baby John snoozed in a padded dresser drawer nearby. Laughter drifted out the bedroom window as her daughters and the sweet child found in the basement played dolls.

If Belle hadn't become tribute, if North hadn't claimed her, if the 'Viders hadn't come to her town, she might be doing this same thing. A dagger pressed against her stomach——a cold reminder of the 'Vider world.

Stepping off the porch, she shaded her eyes and scanned the yard for her friend. If Nattie really was as good as 'Vider Brolyn had claimed, Belle would ask her for tips on how to gain the edge.

How to kill Titan.

Her fingers curled around the dagger's hilt. He deserved to die for threatening her daughters. And now that two more innocents depended on her, it was even more important that she get rid of the threat once and for all.

Surely that couldn't be wrong.

The rhythmic thump of an axe brought her around the back of the house.

In the side yard, Nattie chopped wood. Black tattoos scrolled down her bare arms, reaching nearly to her wrists, each flame representing a kill.

Belle shuddered. How had she not noticed them before?

Nattie tucked her matted hair under the kerchief and split the log with a single stroke. Although she was lean, muscle roped her bones.

"Nattie?"

Belle's friend looked up then glanced at her shirt.

Obviously, she was ashamed of what she'd done. Belle kept her attention on Nattie's face. Both had done what they needed to do to survive. Belle wasn't fit to judge her friend. "'Vider Brolyn said you might be able to give me some tips on how to fight Titan when he comes around."

Nattie's eyes narrowed and red bloomed in her gaunt cheeks. "'Vider Brolyn said I knew how to fight?"

Belle sucked on her bottom lip. Maybe the techniques had left Nattie's head along with her sanity. "North taught me a few things, but he sparred so often with his cousin Titan that everything I try will be blocked. I can't lose, Nattie. I just can't."

Nattie nodded and her lips softened into a smile. "I do not know what I remember, but I might be able to teach you a few things."

Belle rushed forward and set her hands on the other woman's. "Thank you. Thank you."

"'Vider Mirabelle! Vider Mirabelle!" A young 'Vider of ten rounded the corner of her house. He skidded to a halt on the loose rock before finding his footing.

She straightened. The boy had been a friend of her sons before they moved in with Uncle Titan for Warrior training.

"We caught the raiders! We caught 'em and are laying 'em out for jerky."

She placed her hand over her stomach. She wanted the men who killed her sons caught, but jerky... No one had been staked out to die a slow, agonizing death in the sun for many winters.

"'Vider Brolyn saved one for you in the Jury room." The child's eyes grew wide. "His mate's there, too."

Oh God. Beneath her skirts, Belle's knees shook. Did the jurors expect her to kill the raider and his wife?

The boy skipped back to the street. "Hurry."

She took a deep breath and glanced at Nattie.

The older woman shrugged into her shirt. "I'll watch the children while you attend to this."

Lifting her skirts, Belle chased after the boy. Could she kill the raider and his wife? What if they were only defending themselves against the 'Viders? But her sons were children. Surely, the raider didn't have to kill her babies. She swallowed despite her dry mouth.

'Viders and tributes parted before her. She followed the path they created around the Main Street, along the pen holding the tributes and up the steps of the clock building. She focused on the open door. This was it. Her moment of truth. Was she a 'Vider at heart, or did she have any drop of humanity left?

'Vider Brolyn blocked her entrance. "You'll have five minutes alone with him before the Jury must convene."

Five minutes. A world between life and death. Time slid through her consciousness. She shook out her skirts and walked inside. The heft of her dagger clunked against her hand. She could pull it, end his life the way he had Stiletto’s and Hammer’s. A woman was lashed to the stair-railing.

Shoulder-length brown hair curled over her shoulders. Her clothes were coarsely woven wool, but there was something about her... Something that didn't quite fit.

The man cleared his throat, drawing Belle's attention.

She faced him. He wasn't bound, but sat meekly on the floor. Her fingers bit into the dagger. His mate was not even twenty feet away from him, bound, yet he did nothing to help her, free her. What kind of coward was this?

The kind that murdered little boys.

He was no different than the 'Viders. No different at all. She pulled her knife. North said the best strike was downward, right through the collar bone. Today, she'd find out if that was true. "Look at me."

The man turned his face to her.

Those eyes. So brown. Only one person had those eyes... The dagger slipped from her fingers. "Harry?"

"Hey Smelly Belly." He grinned at her, the same mischievous grin she remembered when he'd done something naughty and had gotten away with it. "I've come to rescue you."

Belle sank to her knees and threw her arms around her brother. He'd grown so big. Of course he had, she hadn't seen him in ten years. She blinked back her tears. "Ma would have hated your hair."

Harlan ran his fingers through his shaggy locks. "I've been a little busy."

"Ma." Belle squeezed her brother's hands. She had to tell him what had happened to their parents. "Pa, he——"

He pulled her close. "I found them, buried what I could collect. Our brother too."

She breathed in the scent of sunshine and sweat. "I should have died with them."

"No, Belle." He pushed her hair behind her ears and locked eyes with her. "Never that. We're alive and together. That's what matters. Ma and Pa are probably smiling down from heaven. Caine's probably throwing rocks."

Laughing, Belle rubbed her runny nose on her sleeve. "He always hated being left out."

"Yeah, he was annoying that way." Harlan stroked her fingers as if assuring himself that she was real and whole. Here.

"Oh God, Harry, the 'Viders are going to kill you. They think you're a raider." She tugged on his arm, tried to pull him off the floor. "You have to get out of here."

Harlan remained stubbornly on the ground. "I can't, Belle."

"Don't be stupid. You have to get out of here."

His lips thinned. "No."

She dropped next to him. One way or another, she had to get him to understand. His life was in danger. "Harry, if you don't leave, they're going to make me kill you."

"Make it quick, okay." He grabbed her hand and shoved it against his soft stomach. "A quick hit should do it."

She yanked her hands away from him. "I can't kill my own brother. What do you think I've become?"

He stroked her hair. "You're a survivor. I need you to do what you need to do to survive. And, as a last request, I ask that you teach Sera what she needs to know, so she doesn't die too."

"Harry, don't ask that of me." She clutched his shirt. "Please don't."

"Why would they expect you to kill your brother?"

Belle turned to his brother's wife. Sera. The woman she was supposed to save at the expense of her own flesh and blood. "Raiders killed my boys. 'Vider Code says I must kill their killer."

Sera tilted her head. "Were your sons Stiletto and Ham?"

Belle scrambled away from her brother. "You did kill my boys? You did!"

She kicked the dagger then reached for it. Her babies...

Harlan raised his hand. "No, Belle. I——"

"Someone named Uncle Titan did the deed. Harlan and I arrived too late to stop it." Sera yanked on her right hand. It popped free of her bonds. She scratched her nose. "I'm sorry we weren't in time."

"Titan?" Belle raked up the dagger and cradled it close.

Sera nodded, tugged on the ties of her other hand then slipped her right hand back in the strap. "Thin, ugly man with red and black tattoos. My theory is that he lured them out with the girl for some sort of practice, then stabbed them."

Harry scooted across the floor. "I'm sorry I didn't act. The 'Viders had always seemed one big crazy lot. I'd never seen them kill each other before. Never even expected it, until I saw it with my own eyes."

'Vider Brolyn strolled inside. "That's because 'Viders are forbidden from killing each other unless in approved combat."

The other five jurors followed. Each was fully armed.

Belle hurried to her brother's side. She wouldn't lose him, now that she'd found him. What would happen to her if she refused the jury's orders?

Brolyn tossed a crossbow at Harry's feet. "Is this yours?"

He jerked his head once. "Looks like mine."

Belle dug her fingers into his skin. Did he want to die?

Brolyn pulled a broken arrow from her belt and dropped it next to the crossbow. "Is this your arrow?"

Shrugging off her hold, he picked up the arrow, spun it in his fingers. "No, the red thread would change the accuracy of each shot."

The other female 'Vider, Kathleen clucked. "It isn't enough. One's word is just as valid as the others. You need more."

"I can prove it." Sera's voice echoed around the room.

The 'Vider Jurors stiffened.

Belle winced as the oldest male slapped her sister-in-law for talking without permission. She hoped Sera learned fast and didn't suffer any more beatings.

Brolyn and the other jurors faced Sera.

Harry rose on his knees. A knife flashed in his hands. 

Belle yanked him back down and covered the knife with her hands. Had her brother always been so stupid?

Sera licked at the blood at the corner of her mouth, but didn't say anything.

Brolyn crossed her weapons behind her back. "How can you prove such a thing?"

Sera's attention slipped to Belle.

Belle nodded.

Taking a deep breath, Sera began. "Uncle Titan no doubt told a story of an ambush or attack. If he mentioned distance, then I can shoot the arrow from that far away from a target."

Brolyn's grip tightened.

Belle didn't blame her. She hardly saw what that would prove.

"A bolt shot from a crossbow at anything less than fifty feet would have gone through the neck and out the other side." Sera licked her lips. "On the other, the arrow was thrust up under the ribcage and into the boy's heart, impossible to do at a distance unless the shooter was under the victim. Since the boys were down in the valley when Uncle Titan murdered them; there was no underneath. The projectile could only come from straight on, or in an arch from above."

BOOK: Conceived in Blood, A Post-Apocalyptic/Dystopian Novel
5.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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