Hide (Book Two, the Hunted) Page 6

  As he looks out over them, Reid wonders if that’s going to be possible much longer. They are a pathetic bunch, bones under filthy skin, the only clean part of them their shining eyes watching him everywhere he goes. He’s gotten so used to the attention it doesn’t really bother him anymore.

  Reid crouches next to Leila who is checking Megan’s hand. He winces at the sight of the swollen flesh and the ridges of bone that press against the skin at odd angles.

  “Up again?” He meets Leila’s pale eyes and she smiles, her lower lip cracking when she does. Her fingers go to it, find a drop of blood. She catches it between her teeth, sucks on the gap.

  “Up,” she says.

  Before heading out again, Reid shares the bottle of water. The kids don’t need to be told to only swallow one mouthful and no one takes more than their fair share. Reid purposely leaves Marcus until the end, taking the nearly empty bottle from Leila’s shaking hands.

  Reid looks at the last mouthful, knows he needs to drink it but can’t bring himself to be so selfish. He looks up, meets Marcus’s eyes and holds out the warm plastic.

  Marcus doesn’t hesitate and drains it dry. He tosses the empty at Reid and storms past, as though that act of charity was the deepest insult.

  “You should have kept it for yourself,” Milo says. Reid shrugs and puts the cap back on, sliding the bottle back into his pocket.

  “Not like a mouthful is going to make much of a difference.” Reid squeezes the boy’s shoulder before moving on.

  There are times when Reid is proud of what his father taught him and times when he wishes those lessons were more flexible. His mind can’t let go of that last mouthful of water, the precious liquid he gave up to that ungrateful bastard Marcus and for the first time since his parents died, Reid curses his father.

  Another crossroads, another break. Reid has to rest for a moment at least, his thirst making him weak and wobbly. His knees feel like rocks grinding together, his heart palpitating almost out of control from time to time leaving him dizzy. But he can’t stop, none of them can.

  Stopping means dying. And he’s not there, yet.

  Something skitters nearby. Reid is on his feet, examining the tunnel but they are alone. As he turns to move them on, however, he sees it. A small black hole, more of a gap in the wall than a tunnel. But from it gleams two pairs of eyes, shining in the reflected light.

  The kids don’t need encouragement to hurry. Reid had almost forgotten the disgusting animals he is certain are part of the hunter experiment. The sight of them watching from the black gives him a burst of energy and motivation.

  Cole is by his side but Reid doesn’t notice until the boy speaks up.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I really am.”

  Reid figured the kid’s guilt would drive him to this at some point. If Reid could apologize to Drew again he would. But he can’t have Cole all torn up over something that is over and done with. Reid understands the distraction that can cause.

  “I know,” Reid says. “Really. It’s not your fault, Cole.”

  The boy shakes his head, a soft cloud of dust drifting from his once blonde hair, eyes starkly blue against the filth. “You said no and I wouldn’t let it go.” He snuffles, sighs. “I thought I knew better, wanted to prove it to you. I never should have said anything.” His face collapses into a regretful scowl. “Especially to him.”

  Cole was one of Joel’s kids, and so knows Marcus better than Reid. “You had no idea what he’d do.”

  Cole rolls his eyes and snorts a little, wiping at his nose with his filthy shirt hem. “Didn’t I? I know what he’s like. Jerk.” One sneaker kicks a stone, sends it rattling away ahead of them.

  “Just let me know the next time you find something, okay?” Reid wishes he had more to offer but Cole bobs his head like Reid just gave him back his favorite toy and tries a smile.

  “Promise.” Cole is quiet for a moment then speaks up again, but this time in a whisper. “I’ve been thinking about the mine.”

  Warning bells go off in Reid’s head. “What about it?”

  “Is it just me or is this place, I don’t know, kind of contrived?” Cole runs his fingers over the tunnel wall as he walks. “A real mine would have quarry areas, right? Where miners dug out stuff? All we have are these tunnels.”

  Reid sighs, only then realizing he’s been holding himself rigid and wishing not for the first time that Drew was still alive.

  “Keep it to yourself, would you?” Reid’s voice is as low as Cole’s. “But yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re right.”

  “Why do you think I’m whispering?” Cole’s teeth flash in the semi-dark as they pass a bulb. “Only thing that worries me, though, is if we’re right and the hunters have control of this place…”

  Reid’s shoulders slump, his momentary strength fed by fear of the creatures they left behind draining out of him. “Two scenarios,” he says. “This is all a trap and we’re going exactly where they want us to.”

  “Or two,” Cole says, “we’ve gone farther than they expected and we’ve really lost them.”

  “Or three,” Leila’s voice whispers as she joins them, “they get us where they want us and cut the power so the creatures can get us.”

  Reid looks at her, startled by her lack of emotion when she says it. She shrugs at him. “I’m not going to fall apart,” she says. “If that’s the case, we need a plan.”

  “Hard to plan around that,” Cole says. “We’ve got too many variables.”

  “And a whole lot of kids to protect.” Reid’s feet slide over the ground, one foot hooking on a rough patch. He stumbles but Leila catches him. She exchanges a worried look with Cole.

  “I’m fine,” Reid whispers. “Just thirsty. Like everyone else.”

  Their conversation is cut off by the appearance of another branch. This time both are level. Reid is about to ask the others for a vote when Alex steps forward, his thin face tight, nose practically twitching.

  “I smell something,” he whispers.

  Reid turns, sniffs the air. Nothing down the first tunnel. But the second… he catches the fresh, moist scent and doesn’t even think. He half staggers down the tunnel, landing on his hands and knees at the edge of a pool of water and plunges his face into it.

  When he surfaces, no one judges him. The edge of it is wide enough they all fit around it with some squeezing and shuffling. And while it isn’t as fresh tasting as the waterfall, it quenches his thirst and saves Reid’s life.

  He sits back against the opposite side of the tunnel, watching the others drink their fill. The whole right side of the path is under water as far as the next light bulb, the bottom of the wall sagging into it. Reid can only guess some kind of spring rises here and sends out a silent thank you to whoever provided them with it. Even if it was the hunters.

  It seems like as good a place as any to rest for the night, if it’s even nighttime. Cole’s watch tells them it’s five o-clock but as far as he knows it’s the early morning. Reid dozes in and out of sleep, rising often to drink more, to fill his belly with as much water as he can hold and hears the others doing the same. It’s a long time before anyone has to use the bathroom, though, proof they were in the end stages of dehydration.

  They rise after hours of rest and gather around the pool. Reid fills the bottle, puts it in his pocket and bends for one last drink. They all copy him.

  “All right,” he says. “We have a choice to make. This tunnel or the other?”

  “This one has water,” Megan speaks up in her mouse-squeak. “Maybe that means more later, too?”

  Murmurs of agreement.

  “Do we want to check the other one?” Reid looks around but no one seems to care. “Better be sure. If the exit is that way, it could be a long walk back.”

  “I’ll check it out.” Reid’s heart thuds once in shock as Marcus steps up. “If someone will come with me.”

  No one offers. In fact, they refuse to even look at him. His expression darkens, b
lackens and Reid sees him start to fall back.

  “I’ll come with you,” Reid says even while he doubts his own sanity and kicks his own ass over and over.

  Marcus doesn’t say anything, only nods once and marches off.

  Leila grabs Reid’s arm. “We’re all going,” she says.

  “I’ll be right back. Keep the kids here.” Reid leaves her there and goes after Marcus. It isn’t until he is at the branch in the tunnel that he realizes he isn’t alone. Cole stomps along on his right side while Milo clings to his left.

  “No way we’re leaving you alone with him,” Milo grunts.

  Reid can’t help but grin.

  Marcus waits for them at the mouth of the second tunnel. If it bothers him Milo and Cole are there he doesn’t say anything. He does step aside and lets Reid go first. Cole glances at his watch and nods once.

  Five minutes.

  Nothing is changed. The tunnel is a replica of all the others. Reid is about to say forget it and turn around when he hears a call, faint and odd, but definitely the cry of a hunter. They all stop and wait and listen, bodies tense, a group of rabbits sensing a fox. When the cry comes again, Cole whimpers but holds still while Reid feels Milo sway beside him.

  “Guess that decides it.” Marcus’s footfalls retreat but Reid holds his place. Something isn’t right and he needs to know why.

  He feels Cole tug his arm when he moves ahead but Reid just gently pulls free and keeps going. He goes slowly, careful to watch around each bend, as each bulb appears, for signs of the hunters. But nothing, no one. Only the softly echoing cry. It’s getting closer but sounds weaker for some reason. As though the one making it were injured.

  Injured or dying.

  Reid almost stumbles over the crack in the floor, it’s so well disguised, half way between two light bulbs, just wide enough he could fall in but so thin he doesn’t see it until he’s on top of it. Startled, he looks down.

  And into the shining silver eyes of a hunter.

  Reid dodges back out of view, panic wanting him to run away, to get to safety if there ever is such a thing in this place. The hunters are agile and strong and it will be after him before he can get away. Reid stumbles in his fear, falls backward, one arm hitting something next to him, a soft exhale of air loud in his right ear.

  Reid is scrambling to his feet when he realizes nothing is happening. The hunter hasn’t risen from the hole, no flashing claws or sharp teeth. Only a soft, mournful howl, low and barely audible now. He glances at Cole who stares at him with his blue eyes.

  “Oh my God,” Cole whispers. “Oh my God.”

  Reid eases forward, peeking down into the hole again. The hunter is still there, and this time Reid can see more clearly, his fear taking a back seat to curiosity and sick fascination.

  There is just enough light to see it is wedged deep in the crevasse, arms pinned. There is blood on its face, and more oozes out to pool in a black mass around its chest where it is wedged tightly in the rock. Its eyes lift to Reid’s again, mouth opening and closing as it lets out a soft hiss. When it cries, the sound is the same he remembers but it us unable to draw much breath so it comes out in a terrible and lonely hum.

  “It’s dying.” Milo hovers next to Reid. “The stupid thing fell and now it’s dying.”

  Reid doesn’t say anything. Neither does Cole. And it isn’t until they hear running footsteps behind them that they rise from their study of the hunter to find Leila and all the other kids standing around, panting from the race.

  “I told you to say put.” Reid isn’t sure he wants her here, to see the hunter in the hole.

  “We heard a howl.” No apology from her. “We were worried.”

  Reid sighs and nods. Looks away.

  “What?” Her eyes are enormous, her fear obvious. Reid points and she peeks over the edge. Her gasp is so loud Reid jumps.

  They all crowd around, looking down at the helpless hunter. Reid isn’t sure who is the first brave one to hop over the thin gap but soon the thing wedged in the crack is surrounded by a sea of filthy faces.

  It snarls at them, thrashes around only to collapse, gasping as more blood gushes free from its chest wound. When its eyes open again, they meet Reid’s.

  Something inside him stirs, a feeling of kinship almost. As though he can feel what it is feeling and has no idea why. A thin thread holds them. Reid backs off, cutting contact, terrified of that line of connection and where it came from. He must be imagining it, surely that’s it.

  Someone shouts. Reid jerks his attention back as Megan holds up a rock, her face twisted in fury. “Son of a bitch! Die!” She throws the stone as hard as she can, which isn’t hard. Reid runs to the edge, sees the hunter flinch before hissing again.

  It’s enough to get them started. The group of faces turns from shock and curiosity to inhuman rage. More rocks are lifted, thrown, over and over again, their passion shoving aside any fear they might feel, any concern other hunters will come. Instead, the entire pack of kids is screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs as they vent their frustration and hurt the only way they can.

  Reid steps away, unable to participate and wondering where his own anger has gone.

  It’s over quickly. No one has the strength to keep going. Reid watches the hunter for signs of life while the kids drift away, tears on their faces but a fierce determination driving them on. Without discussion, they file back the way they came, leaving the dead hunter there.

  He is the last to go. And the only one to see the hunter isn’t dead, not just yet. An eye cracks open, barely able, the slit of pupil glistening in the low light. Reid stares down at it, wishing he could feel something, anything, but his emotions have betrayed him.

  Instead, he leaves it there, to live or die, and follows the kids back to the other tunnel.

  ***

  Chapter Nine

  They have been walking for a while when Cole speaks up.

  “Maybe we should have gone the other way.”

  Reid is used to the boy by now and lets Cole talk.

  “The hunter must have come from that way,” Cole says. “Which means it could have been the way he came in.”

  “Or he got lost like us and sidetracked like us and fell in the damned hole.” Milo stomps along like Cole’s words offend him.

  “True.” Cole shrugs. “No way to know, really.”

  “Exactly,” Milo says. “So shut the hell up already.”

  Cole does, sullen and hurt. Tempers have been short since the kids attacked the hunter. Reid doesn’t want to think about it anymore and does his best to ignore their sniping.

  Now that his thirst is taken care of for the time being, Reid is even more aware of his hunger. It’s been a long time since he had a solid meal and he’s feeling it in his muscles. They are forced to take more and more frequent breaks as the kids run out of energy. He knows they are at the end of their endurance and wonders how much longer they can keep moving before he has to start making tough decisions.

  Like leaving kids behind.

  Reid has become so used to the regular placement of bulbs he notices immediately that something is different ahead. He stops, the kids shuffling to a halt behind him. Leila is right there with him, her pale eyes fixed on the stretch of tunnel ahead.

  Or would be if there was any light to see.

  While Reid’s tired mind stumbles over the stretch of black ahead, the kids behind him look up and pay attention. Their mutters of concern turn to anxious chatter almost immediately. Reid can feel them pressing against the backs of his legs, as though he can save them from the black.

  “This is bad.” Milo slides up on his left, flickering his gaze first to Reid then Leila.

  Reid nods. “Maybe. We don’t know how many bulbs are broken. It could be just this stretch.”

  Leila’s fingers squeeze his. “You’re right,” she says, face turned to him, voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “It’s probably just a burnt-out bulb. One stretch. We’ll be through it i
n no time.”

  Reid adds her ability to feed courage to his list of reasons for loving her.

  “What about the creatures?” Reid’s mind goes there the instant they are mentioned. His hand throbs in sympathy, memory fluttering to the shocked look on the boys’ face, the small, furry black ball with its shining eyes and massive mouth full of teeth.

  “What about them?” Milo locks eyes with Reid. “They don’t like the light, remember? So how would they get in there?”

  Reid can think of a dozen different ways, through a tunnel, a break in the wall. A hole in the ceiling or because this is, in fact, the end of the road, where the hunters are driving them to so the creatures can devour them.

  But, instead of saying so, he just shrugs. “Only one way to find out.”

  “You going first again?” Marcus’s mutter is harsh and full of judgment.

  “No,” Reid says. “We’re staying together this time. Everyone, grab a rock.” He bends, finds one himself, happy with the weight of it in his hand.

  “I thought this was just a broken bulb,” Marcus says.

  “If you feel like taking a chance on that and being an idiot, be my guest.” Reid hefts his stone in his right hand, the pain from the broken bones somehow not as bad as it was. “Me, I’m taking a rock.”

  They scramble about, searching for weapons. Reid ignores them, focusing on the darkness, as though he could peer through it to the bulb on the other side. He listens at the same time, sure he should be able to pick up the skittering stride of the creatures. But there is only quiet in front of him while the kids settle behind.

  When he glances back to see if everyone is ready, he sees Marcus has a chunk of stone in his hand and refuses to meet Reid’s eyes.

  “Stay close. Your free hand should be touching someone else. No one strays. If you hear something, hit first and ask questions later but don’t hit each other, okay?” They twitter a nervous giggle at him. “Smallest to the middle, older and taller on the outside. Everyone ready?” They shuffle their positions one last time. Reid makes himself smile at them. “We’re moving fast, so be prepared. Let’s go.”