Page 44

“Doubtful,” Ferris says. “Our runners come here once every few months, remember.” We all push closer together.

We keep our eyes open for pharmacies and stores that sell goods, but they are far and few between. In the Before, most people bought goods and medicines from places that didn’t have physical storefronts, instead having everything delivered to their homes. In smaller cities, like this one, it’s still possible to find physical stores, but in bigger cities, every square inch of space was ultimately converted into living space for the out-of-control population, and any stores remaining were for the upper class alone.

Ahead, a sign peeks through the gloom, advertising a general store. I quietly point it out to Ferris, and he nods, passing the info to Tore. We quickly decide to assess the store, and begin crossing what used to be a major intersection when a loud groaning sound freezes us in place. Tore immediately raises his rifle while we all fan out, backs to each other. A strange burbling, musical sound echoes through the empty roads, and something flashes to the right of us. Tore lifts his rifle, firing a single bullet into the fog.

We all hold our breath, then nearly jump out of our skin as an image is somehow projected into the sky above the intersection. A creepy, distorted voice begins to narrate the bizarre moving images in the air.

“What the fuck?” Vale mouths over the obnoxiously loud voice trying to sell us everything from plastic fruit to curb our “cravings,” to glasses that record everything you see and upload the files to some kind of computer chip installed in your brain.

A distinctly nonhuman woman appears in the projection to remind viewers that keeping their personal communication devices up to date is essential to keeping connected to the Grid, and failure to do so will result in losing access to your digital assets or worse.

“Tore, kill it,” Dair growls. “Every Biter in the godsforsaken city has probably heard this fucking thing.”

Tore follows the beams of light to a small box on the bottom of a solar pole and shoots it quiet. We’re too stunned to speak, but a distant shriek gets us moving through the cursed intersection as quickly as we can manage.

I can’t shake the disturbed feeling I’m left with after seeing that advertisement projection. I can’t imagine a world where every decision has to be weighed against thousands of options, each with its own tagline that tells you nothing about the quality of the product, while each company tries to make maximum money without making products that actually help people or are built to last.

Or, how it would feel to have everything you do monitored, fed into algorithms, dissected, and analyzed to control everything about your life, from the products advertised to you, when your vehicle’s computer is allowed to power on, how much money you’re allowed to spend, or if you have access to your money at all. I know the cameras are long dead, but their black, reflective eyes haunt my every step.

Ferris and Dair stay close to me, likely in response to the churning emotions signaled in my scent. The horrifying part is that those advertisements are benign compared to what I’ve learned about human history from Soline’s books. What we saw back there was the end of society, not all the ways humans ended up there.

We come upon the general store, which turns out to be far larger than I expected, and Tore breaks off from the group to scout the exterior. When he returns, we’re all surprised to learn that it doesn’t look like it’s been broken into. I can feel the worry emanating from Dair and Ferris, but ultimately, we decide to chance it. Dair doesn’t want to get too far into the city to make a clean escape if things go badly.

Dair looks around, eyes squinting into the misty distance, and says, “If this is a bust, we’re leaving, and we’ll try to find another town as we travel. I don’t like it here with the poor visibility.” We all murmur our agreement.

Tore borrows my axe to expertly hack into one of the boarded-up doors, and then he pokes his head in, inhaling deeply. “Smells like death.”

Dair has to leave his pack at the door to fit through the narrow gap, and we slink into the dark building one at a time, fanning out to find the supplies we need. Ferris immediately volunteers to go with me to bolster our first aid kits, so we follow the signs to the medical section.

“Dair told me about your sickness,” Ferris whispers when we’re a decent distance away from the others. “I promise I didn’t know, Raine. Are you feeling well?”

A small omega growl rumbles in my throat as I hiss, “That’s none of your concern.”

“Okay,” he agrees, and I look at him out of the corner of my eye as we walk. The frown on his face matches the distraught tinge to his scent.

“You left me,” I continue, anger burning the sugar of my scent. “You told me that you were serious about us. You bonded me, and then you left, Ferris. Right now, you don’t get to know anything about me.”

I rush forward, leaving him behind to escape into one of the tall aisles of products. I find a small, grimy plastic basket on the floor and begin filling it with gauze and other medical supplies that have no expiration dates. I continue the tedious tasks of scanning the shelves, checking the list Tore gave me, and avoiding my mate. I hear him scuffling in one of the next aisles over, but I force myself to ignore him.

As I continue to riffle through the shelves, I marvel that this store has been sitting full all this time. How is it possible that no one looted this place within the first year of collapse? Based on the size alone, there’s probably everything you could ever need, aside from food. Lost in thought, I round the aisle’s endcap to turn up the next one but freeze at the grizzly scene before me.

Items are strewn across the floor, creating a mess of crumpled boxes and long-dried mystery fluids. There’s a large metal basket with wheels tipped on its side, all of the items spewing onto the gross cement, and in the center of the destruction is a mostly decayed body missing both of its legs. I can’t see the gruesome details in the dimness, but the clothes that still cling to the skeletal body appear torn and bitten.

I back up slowly, a sudden sense of dark doom pushing down on my shoulders. I look around, frantic, searching in the darkness for moving shadows or glowing eyes. Where is Ferris?

The shuffling from a few aisles down grows louder, and I inch forward, basket handles clutched tightly in my hands. A putrid, sour scent permeates my nose the closer I get, causing waves of terror to chill my skin. It’s not quite the Biter scent I’m used to, but it invokes the same fear. I peek around the end of the aisle and clamp my lips between my teeth to prevent the scream that wants to erupt from my throat.

There, in the darkness of the aisle, is something hunched and rotting. The smell alone is enough to make my eyes water, but the disturbing sight of bones dripping with gray skin working to move across the floor using thread-thin tendons is petrifying.

How long has this Biter been trapped in here, and how the fuck is it still alive? I get my answer when a small rodent scurries across the aisle, only to be snatched up by the Biter with more speed and dexterity than should be possible. I swallow hard, turning my ear into my shoulder to muffle the screech as it’s violently devoured.

When the grotesque squelching sounds quiet, I hear the smallest, softest whistle, and whip my head over to see Ferris crouching next to a long counter labeled “Pharmacy.” I can barely make out what he’s doing, but as soon as I register he’s pointing up, eyes full of worry, my stomach turns to stone. Slowly, I tilt my head up and bite my tongue to trap my whimper. Across the metal ceiling are beams stretching in intricate patterns of support. Perched on those beams are dozens of shadowy figures with horrible glowing eyes.

My eyes swing back to Ferris, who is now wide-eyed and gesturing urgently with his hands for me to go to him. Slowly, I creep past the mouth of the aisle where the Biter is crouched, barely breathing. One step leads to another until I’m past the aisle and silently sprinting toward Ferris. I crash into him, his arms coming around my sides to hold me close to his chest. My heart pounds so hard the sound floods my ears, and I curl myself into Ferris’s broad frame and nestle into his scent to keep from falling apart. Anger be damned, here in his arms is the safest place I can be.

His hand pushes my head deeper into his chest as he whispers, “Good girl, Raine. I’m here now. You did so well.” I tuck my nose into the hinge of his jaw, rubbing back and forth through the soft bristles of his beard. “We need to find a way to warn the others,” he breathes, and I nod.

Reaching around, he slowly unzips my backpack and begins stuffing the supplies we found inside as he says, “We need to silently move around the perimeter, away from the middle where they’re roosting.”