Marked In Flesh (The Others #4)

Run. Hope’s screamed command burned under her skin. But run from what? The cards hadn’t supplied the answer.

Meg opened her silver razor, laid the blade against the right side of her jaw, and made a long cut. Setting aside the razor, she braced her hands on the table and swallowed the agony as well as the words in order to see this prophecy.

Images piled up like a stack of photographs being seen so fast she could barely understand. Wolves. Blood. Death. That was common in all the images. But the land . . . Similar places but not the same places. A sea of grass. Cabins built near mountains. More places that became a backdrop for death. So many more.

For a heartbeat, she saw Simon at the Wolfgard Complex, one side of his face covered in blood. Then she saw . . . she saw . . .

Turning away from the table, Meg bent over and vomited on the floor.

Run. Hide the pack.

“Sam,” she whispered.

Turning away from the mess, she spotted the phone on the counter. She had seen . . . She knew that face.

The address book, recently purchased at the Three Ps, sat beside the phone. Meg flipped to the W section and called the number.

“Walker’s General Store. Jesse speaking.”

She forced the words out. “This is Meg Corbyn.”

“Meg?”

If she didn’t get out of there soon, something inside her would break. Still she struggled to lay out the images in a way that Jesse Walker would understand. “Bison. Rifle. Death. Wolves. Trap. Death. Bodies. Bodies. Joe’s face. Fire, fire, fire.”

“Meg?” Alarmed now.

The images swam in front of her eyes, too horrible to bear. “Run. Hide the puppies. Hide the children. Run. Run!”

Fear spurred her, and Meg followed her own warning. She snatched the BOW’s key out of her purse and ran out the back door, colliding with Vlad but unable to stop, unable to speak. She flung open the garage door, leaped into her BOW, and barely missed running over Simon as she backed out.

“Meg!” Simon yelled.

She looked at him, trying to find words, and could find only one. “Run!”

She stomped on the power pedal, careened around the corner, and headed for the Wolfgard Complex as fast as the little vehicle could go.





CHAPTER 32


Firesday, Juin 22


Jesse Walker ran into the middle of Prairie Gold’s main street and screamed, a sound that was part fear, part battle cry. People working in nearby stores ran out, but it wasn’t humans who could help her now.

Hearing caws, she looked up and spotted several Ravens circling above her. And when she looked toward the other end of town, she saw smoke rushing toward her.

“Meg Corbyn says the Wolves are heading into a trap! Sound the alarm! Stop them!”

The Ravens flew away. The smoke continued to rush toward her. Just before it reached her, it rose into a column and shifted into human form.

“Did Meg say anything else?” Tolya asked.

“She saw Joe’s face. She said . . .” Jesse swallowed hard. “She said ‘bodies’ twice and ‘fire’ three times. She said to hide the puppies and children.”

“Joe made a special arrangement with . . . Well, that doesn’t matter. What matters is there is a hiding place in the hills above the terra indigene village. Did he tell you?”

“Yes.”

“Then grab only what you need and take the females and all the young to that place.”

“But—”

“Do it, Jesse Walker. Neither of us has time for words now.” Tolya shifted to smoke and raced toward the open land beyond the town.

Neither of us has time. Gods above and below.

“Jesse?” Phil Mailer started walking toward her.

She shook her head. “Ring the alarm bell. We have to get out of here.” She ran back into her store and stared at the two wire crates on the counter that were already filled with jars of peanut butter, boxes of cereal, chocolate bars, cans of fruit. For the past hour, she’d been feeling uneasy without knowing why, had started packing emergency supplies for something to do.

“What’s going on?” Shelley Bookman asked, running into the store.

Jesse shoved an empty crate into Shelley’s hands. “Bottles of juice. Anything else that might quickly feed children. Get moving!” She dropped a box of flatware into one of her crates and two loaves of bread into the other. Rushing to the display of kitchen utensils, she grabbed a can opener and tossed that in the crate.

“Should I put in some cans of soup?” Shelley asked.

“Nothing we need to cook or heat in order to eat,” Jesse snapped in reply. She set her full crates by the door, then went into the back room and returned with a daypack, her rifle, and two boxes of ammunition.

Shelley’s eyes widened. “Jesse?”

“You got that crate filled? Then go grab your purse and be back here in five minutes. I mean it, Shelley. Five minutes. Then we head out.”

“Head out where?”

“Clock’s ticking.” Hide the puppies. Hide the children. The words were a whip that wouldn’t relent until she obeyed.

The alarm bell stopped ringing. Jesse walked to the middle of the street and looked at the people who were waiting for an explanation. “We have to evacuate. A cassandra sangue called me to give warning.” And I don’t know what it cost Meg Corbyn to give that warning.

“What’s the warning, Jesse?” Phil Mailer asked.

“Death. Traps. Fire. It’s coming for us.” Maybe already found some of us.

Couldn’t think about that.

Billy Rider had taken a wagon and team of horses from the livery stable and drove up to the general store. “Tried to get hold of Tobias,” he told Jesse. “Tom Garcia said some kind of miniature twister tore up a bit of fence and spooked the horses, so the men are out rounding them up. I told him about the alarm. He said he’s staying at the ranch, but he’ll be on the lookout for trouble and will ring the bell there if he sees anything. Ellen Garcia is driving in to meet up with you. She’ll bring her kids and any terra indigene youngsters she spots on the way.”

Wasn’t likely that Ellen would find many terra indigene youngsters that far from their settlement without any adults nearby, but every warning was better than none.

Prairie Gold’s small bus and the minivan that served as a taxi pulled up.

“Stop dawdling and get on the damn bus,” Jesse snapped at Shelley and Abigail Burch. “We have got to move.” She pointed at the taxi. “Swing around that end of town and pick up whoever you can. The bus will head toward the hills and pick up the folks at that end.”

Phil Mailer stepped in front of her. “Who else can I contact? I’ll send out messages until the wires go down. You’ve had the most experience with the terra indigene, so you need to go. But some of us are going to stay. This is our town, our home. These buildings are packed to the rafters with supplies that we need to see us through the next year. I’m not letting some yahoos burn us out.”

Murmurs of agreement from other men.

“Go on now, Jesse. Go and do what you can for all of us.”

Nothing to say to that, so she climbed onto the wagon seat beside Billy Rider and led the women and children into the hills—and wondered if there would be anything left when they returned.

? ? ?

Joe howled, then waited for a response. He howled again. <Answer me! I am leader of this pack!>

He heard the Song of Battle and ran in that direction.

<Joe! Stop!>

Joe slowed to a trot. <Tolya?>

<It’s a trap! Meg Corbyn saw and called Jesse Walker. It’s a trap for the pack.>

His ribs tightened and he struggled to breathe. <Why would Meg see prophecy about us?>

<Does it matter why? She sent the warning. Joe, come back. Jesse Walker is going to take all the young to the hiding place you arranged in the hills. The town is in danger too. You need to come back.>

<I have to stop the pack before the bad happens. You take care of the town. Send on the warning to whoever you can.>

Having made his choice, Joe ran hard and fast to find the pack before the humans sprang the trap.





CHAPTER 33


Firesday, Juin 22