“They live on an island down south. It’s supposed to be Risen free,” I tell Trent.
“That’s a sweet fairytale,” Trent chuckles.
“I don’t think it is. I think it’s for real. At least it was the last he knew of it. Either way, it’s worth a try. It’s a better option than owing anything to The Hive.”
“But what if it’s not real?” I ask, looking up into his face. “What if we get there and it’s nothing? Then we need The Hive anyway and we lost our shot at talking to them.”
Ryan shakes his head, his eyes locked on mine. “I’d rather take the risk that they don’t exist than risk taking you—“
“We’d need a boat.”
Ryan and I both turn to look at Trent.
“Why?”
“It’s an island, right? We’d need a boat to get to it. Do you have a boat?”
I shake my head even though I imagine I’m not meant to answer that question.
“No,” Ryan admits darkly.
“Well then, problem solved,” Trent says happily, standing. “We need The Hive after all.”
Chapter Nine
Ryan, Trent and I walk through the dark streets together, heading for The Hive. This area is relatively cleared of Risen, not much of a surprise. But the empty, silent streets make me more nervous than a horde would. It’s ominous and horrifying. I’m shaking a little, though I’d never let them know it. My arm is aching being out of the splint, the thin material of my worn, black fleece the only protection it has left. It’s not ready. Maybe I’m not ready. But the dull yellow glow of the lights inside the aquarium are burning at the end of the street and it’s too late to turn back now.
“Crenshaw isn’t going to be happy about this,” Ryan grumbles.
“Cren ain’t gots to know ‘bout it.”
He looks over at me, his face worried and confused. “Are you alright?”
“No,” I mutter, wiping my sweating palms on my pants. “I’m freaking out a little.”
“It shows. What was that?”
“I’ve heard the gangs talk like that before,” I say defensively.
“Well, most don’t so, you know… don’t.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
He glances over at me, the confusion gone but the worry etched deep in his eyes. “I won’t let them keep you here.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about.”
I won’t let them keep me here.
“Then what are you afraid of?” Trent asks.
“Did I say I was afraid? No one said afraid. Let’s keep it on the real, boys.”
“Stop that,” Ryan reminds me.
“Right, yeah. I’m not afraid. I’m just freaked. It’s different.”
“What are you freaked about?”
“There are Risen in there. In a crowded room. That’s a big red flag right there; the mass of people. I’m not a fan.”
“Joss, you know it takes a long time to turn. Way longer than it used to.”
“But there are tons of people in there that come in contact with Risen for fun. I’m not done worrying you’ll still turn from being around them with your open cuts. What kind of wounds do all of them have? How old are they?”
“We cleaned mine early, I’m fine. Calm down. It’s not like it used to be.”
“If a person is bitten, though—“
“They’re done for, I know. But we’ll be out of there way before they turn.”
“It’s stupid.”
“Keep that to yourself when you get in there.”
“I’m not great at censoring myself.”
“Maybe don’t talk at all,” Trent suggests.
Ryan and I both glare at him. He shrugs, unconcerned.
“You can talk, just be careful what you say,” Ryan tells me. “Less is more.”
“I tried to say that about her clothes and you told me to f—“
“Don’t start that again,” Ryan warns Trent.
“What about my clothes?” I ask, glancing down at my tattered jeans and too large coat.
Trent smirks at me. “You look like a tomboy.”
“Because I am, Trent.”
“I told him we should bring you in looking like a stable girl. It would make more sense.”
“And I said drop it,” Ryan warns him, his voice becoming hot.
“Like a pro?” I ask, shocked.
But then I wonder why I’m shocked. How else are they meant to explain me? Where have I been hiding if not inside a stable? I’ll cause more of a stir walking in looking like this, like I don’t owe anyone anything, than I would waltzing in naked. I’m definitely not doing that, that’s insane and I’m pretty sure it’s so far outside my comfort zone that I’d vomit from the stress, but it’s something to consider.
I quickly strip off my jacket, carefully peeling it over my aching arm.
“Hold this,” I snap at Trent, throwing the jacket in his face.
It falls away to reveal his feline smile, his eyes watching me in the dark.
“Joss, you don’t have to change how you look,” Ryan says, sounding tired.
“Yes, I do,” I tell him, pulling my t-shirt up over my head.
I don’t have anything on underneath but a thin tank top and a sports bra, but it’ll have to do. My education on sexy comes from 80’s movies but I somehow doubt fluffing my hair and wearing neon spandex is what I need to blend in these days.
“You need to eat more,” Trent says, pointing at my side. “I can see your ribs.”
I snatch my coat back from him, wincing as pain shoots up my arm.
“If I had more to eat, I’d eat it. Back off me.”
“You’re not taking good care of your girl, Ry.”
“I would if she’d let me,” Ryan mutters.
He’s staring down at me as well. Mostly at my chest.
“Alright,” I growl at both of them, “eyes forward and hands off. Let’s go get this over with.”
We move under an overpass, crumbling and decrepit. I hurry as I always do going under them, worried that they’ll choose that moment to dissolve down on top of me. To trap me as easy pickings for… well, just about anyone, living or undead. I shiver at the thought of all the enemies I have out there, a fair portion of which are in this building looming in front of me. It’s stupid to be here.
The building is two stories of good condition that screams someone lives there. The exterior paint is badly chipped and faded, but broken windows are carefully boarded up and the surrounding areas are barricaded and secured. It’s a long building stretching out onto a pier over the water of the Pudget Sound. I’ve fished there before. Not by this building, obviously, but hidden farther north away from The Hive and the Colonies nearby. I can see them now. The stadiums are just south of us, also glowing faintly in the night sky. All of them so shamelessly broadcasting where they are and what they have. Hardly a care in the world.
I hate all of them.
The inside of the building is dark as far as I can see, but Ryan doesn’t hesitate to walk right up to the door and knock sharply. It doesn’t take long for a small square in the door to pop open.
“What?” a voice asks gruffly.
Ryan puts his face to the hole. “I’m here to see the Boss. He asked for me.”
“You’re not here to fight?”
“No. Just business.”
“That’s a shame. Slow night.”
“Not my problem,” Ryan says, his tone dead.
I hear a muffled chuckle as the square slams shut. Bolts are unlatched and eventually the door swings open. There are lights on inside but not much. The entire entryway is cast in black shadows, including the bouncer at the door, and I hesitate as all of my survival instincts scream at me to run the other way. Nature and numbers. They don’t lie.