Page 8 of Born Savage

Until every last one of the bastards was cut down to size. I stood even taller than before, turning in a full circle while daring mentally for another creature to challenge the huntress.

None did.

After taking gulping breaths, I raked my arm across my face. The vibrations had returned, heat so extreme sweat rolled down my back. For the first time, my vision was different, foggy and the barometric pressure had dropped significantly. It took a few seconds before I calmed down, the air less stagnant.

I wiped my forearm across my face again, gathering blood and brains before finding the girl and her dog crumpled in a ball on the ground. Crouching, I brushed hair from her face, stroking her soft cheek as I realized her skin was wet.

She’d been crying.

Another reminder life was so unfair.

The prickly sensations from before returned. Eyes were watching us. I’d need to take an alternate route to the Safe Zone.

“Come. We don’t have far to go and we’ll be safe.” But for how long? Leaning in, I whispered so only she could hear, “We’re being followed. Don’t look around. Just make sure and follow me.”

The same eyes as before were opened wide and even though I couldn’t see their beautiful color, just looking into them provided some sense of peace. How strange and amazing that a child could do that.

The girl clung to my leg with one hand as we walked, keeping her face mostly buried in the puppy’s fur. While taking the alternate route had risks in of itself, it had to be done.

Another pile of debris was the perfect camouflage. As soon as we were safely protected behind the mound, I switched directions, moving toward a building on the opposite side of the street. From there I moved around a group of buildings, paying careful attention to every sound.

Thankfully, we made it to the subway’s entrance without further incident. While most would consider being underground unsafe, the subway cars were all protected with unbreakable glass, a requirement by the former government in the months prior to the collapse.

While cracked and fogged from years of heavy abuse and neglect, they also offered a strange window of carnage to all those hoping for protection inside. Including a woman, a child, and a dog.

Along with the doors being incapable of being opened by Dwellers, the cars provided safety from the heinous beasts roaming the corridors. In the morning, we’d have a clear dash to the stairs. There was also an eerie light in the cavernous area and had been for years. Some believed the Borgata were responsible, wild tales of using dead bodies as fuel offering amusement.

The truth was more scientific in nature, a long-lasting battery that would eventually disappear. At least I didn’t need to tell the girl to hold tight, her patience proving helpful. Being abandoned either destroyed someone or brought out hidden strengths. As soon as I pried open the doors, a single look down into her sweet face and she stepped inside.

At least the cars were basically soundproof, unless screaming was involved. I pulled us away from the doors, easing onto the metal bottom between two seats. As soon as I placed my arm around her, the heavy sigh she allowed was as if she’d been holding her breath for several minutes.

I listened intently for any sounds, refusing to fall prey to the stalking vultures determined to capture a prized possession. Her thin fingers clung to my shirt the entire time with her face nuzzled against me. She didn’t care that her face would be stained with Dwellers’ blood; the comfort of another human being the only thing that mattered to her.

How could I dare consider sending her away? She would come with me to the village, the elders accepting her whether they thought my decision madness or not. The beacon of hope was too powerful a draw to resist.

“What is your name?” I asked after feeling certain we were alone in this part of the cavern.

She tensed but said nothing. The girl didn’t know. She’d never been given a proper name. The thought that she’d been forsaken infuriated me.

“Wren. I shall call you Wren.”

Her head moved and in the strange orange glow sweeping in through the windows, I noticed her increasing curiosity. In a way, she reminded me of the little girl who’d survived the nightmare all those years ago.

“A wren is a bird, a creature with wings but nothing like the terrifying thunderbirds. They were about this big.” I opened my fingers the width of two old coins. “Even though they were tiny, they were said to have bold personalities, starkly defending their territories. Their feathers were umber in color so they could hide in underbrush. Do you know what the wren symbolizes?”

She shook her head.

“Resilience. The triumph of the small and clever over the large and dangerous predators.” When I offered a smile as she thought about the name chosen, she offered me one as well.

In a strange way, it was a beautiful win in a competition that shouldn’t be forced to exist.

As she pressed her face into me once again, I stroked her hair while also running my fingers through the pup’s fur. I finally leaned my head against the cool metal, feeling the effects of the cold as my adrenaline began to fail me. I longed for the warmth of a fire, another luxury until our wood gatherers returned to the village.

They’d been required to go farther and farther to find a source to keep the people warm.

Her breathing remained shallow, the beat almost matching the rapid thud of my heart. I could feel something happening, as if the world was about to go crazy again.

My mentor had said I was special. That I was the future. I’d laughed but Peter had always been so insistent. Whatever was happening, I’d always known one day our safety would be challenged again. There were rumors, our limited ability to communicate with other communities providing information as well as hope. But without a solid plan of eliminating the king and his court, hope had begun to fade.