“Let’s get on with it, Ezekiel,” he murmured.
I flicked my gaze to Zeke, who stood motionless for a heartbeat, his hands clenched at his sides. Then, slowly, methodically, he turned and removed his shirt, tossing it to the ground. I bit the inside of my cheek. His skin was a map of old, pale scars, crisscrossing his back and shoulders. Turning stiffly, he placed his palms against one of the gravestones poking out of the grass and bowed his head. I saw his shoulders tremble, once, but his face remained impassive.
“You know why I do this,” Jeb said softly, moving up behind him.
“Yes,” Zeke muttered. His knuckles were white from gripping the headstone.
Don’t move, I told myself, closing my fists in the dirt. Do not move. Do not go out there to help him. Stay where you are.
“You are a leader,” Jebbadiah continued and, without warning, struck Zeke’s exposed back with the strip of metal. I cringed, fighting the impulse to snarl, as Zeke tightened his jaw. Blood, bright and vivid, seeped crimson down his scarred back.
“I expect more of you,” Jebbadiah continued in that same calm, unruffled voice, striking him again, this time across the shoulders. Zeke bowed his head, panting. “If I fall, you must lead them in my place.” Two more vicious blows in rapid succession. “You must not be weak. You must not succumb to emotion or the desires of the flesh. If you are to become a true leader, you must kill everything that tempts you, everything that makes you question your morals or your faith. If we are to survive this world, if we are to save the human race, we must be ruthlessly diligent. If we fall, the sacrifices of those before us will be for nothing. Do you understand, Ezekiel?”
The last question was delivered with such a vicious blow that Zeke finally gasped and buckled against the headstone. I crouched in the grass, shaking with fury, my fangs fully extended, fighting the urge to leap out and rip Jebbadiah open from sternum to groin.
Jeb stepped back, his face smooth and blank once more. “Do you understand?” he asked again in a quiet voice.
“Yes,” Zeke answered in a surprisingly steady voice as he pulled himself up. His back was a mess of blood, angry slashes over his already numerous scars. “I understand. I’m sorry, sir.”
The older man tossed the antenna into the weeds. “Have you apologized to Darren yet?” he asked, and when Zeke nodded, he stepped up and grasped his shoulder. Zeke flinched. “Come, then. Let’s get you cleaned up before the blood attracts anything dangerous.”
I sank my fingers into the dirt, watching Zeke stoop slowly, painfully, to retrieve his shirt and follow Jebbadiah out of the cemetery. My muscles ached from holding myself back. The scent of blood, the violence, the furious rage toward Jebbadiah, was almost too much to handle. I watched Zeke stumble, wincing as he braced himself against a headstone, and a low growl slipped out before I could stop it.
Zeke straightened, glancing back toward the cemetery, a wary frown crossing his face. I bit my tongue, cursing myself, and thought motionless thoughts. I was a tree, a stone, a part of the landscape and the night. Zeke’s gaze swept through the cemetery, peering into the shadows. At one point, he looked right at me, our eyes meeting through the darkness, but then his slid away and continued on without recognition.
“Ezekiel.” Jebbadiah turned to frown at his pupil, impatient. “What are you looking at?”
Zeke took a step back. “Nothing, sir. I thought I heard…” He shook his head. “Never mind. It was probably a raccoon.”
“Then why are we still standing here?”
Zeke murmured an apology and turned away. They disappeared around the corner, back into the church, and I slumped to the ground, fury and the Hunger buzzing through my veins.
The smell of Zeke’s blood still hung in the air, though not as strong as when he was present. I had to get away; the longer I stayed, the more I wanted it. And if Zeke, or worse, Jebbadiah, came through the cemetery again, I might not be able to resist attacking either of them.
The sky overhead showed a faint pink light on the belly of the clouds, and the sun wouldn’t be far behind. I burrowed into the cold cemetery ground, trying not to imagine what else was buried here, beneath the grass and tombstones. The earth closed around me, dark and comforting, and I slipped into the waiting blackness of sleep.
And, for the first time since I left New Covington, I dreamed.
*
A DARK, EMPTY CITY.
Skyscrapers leaning against each other like fallen trees.
Memories tinted with anger. Shouldn’t have let my guard down. Should’ve seen that trap. I was careless.
Lightning flickered, turning the world white for a split second. And in the stillness between the flash and the next boom of thunder, I saw him.
Smiling at me.
Chapter 19