Mastin gestured to what lay outside the room. “How long do you think we can remain under siege?”
“Comfortably, a couple of days, if we ration ourselves. But unless we can find a source of fresh water, things could get ugly real quick. And that’s not counting on whether or not the Bloods attack. If they evoke a series of strikes, we’ll be lucky to hold out any longer than that.” He looked up at his men. “I want the sentries changed every two hours. Have the soldiers get as much rest as possible. We can’t fight when we’re exhausted.” He stood. “Our supplies are gone. All we have are what’s in our saddlebags. Even if we manage to retrieve the wagons, we can’t assume everything will still be intact. Time to live off the land, men, so keep your eyes open for game.”
“If the Bloods don’t get to it, first,” Dulcy drawled.
Vastic snorted. “I doubt they’ll look twice at game right now. They already have enough food to last them for a long time.”
Lucien felt his stomach roil with nausea. No one asked for clarification. Everyone understood what the man meant.
The room momentarily fell silent. He took the opportunity to speak. “I’ve spoken to a couple of men. None of them have ever witnessed what the Bloods are doing now. What do you think their tactic is? Why are they just standing out there? Are they waiting for something? Or someone?”
Destino looked at him. “We were discussing that before you got here. We haven’t seen that kind of behavior with them, either. But that doesn’t mean they haven’t done it elsewhere.”
Bodacai gave his friend an astonished grin. “You don’t think them standing stiff as a board for hours on end like that is usual behavior for them?”
“What do you think they’re up to?” Yulen challenged.
“Oh, I got two ideas. One is that they all may be bat shit crazy out of their minds because of the virus. They could have gotten the disease, and because their genes are so far out of whack, more than a Mutah’s, the survivors have a different reaction than what we’d expect.”
“It’s plausible,” Paxton commented. “Of course, you have to admit that their behavior before the virus was always what you could call bat shit crazy.” The men chuckled in agreement.
“And your second one?” the battle lord urged.
Lucien noticed how his father didn’t outright dismiss the captain’s remarks. Instead, he showed he was willing to listen and give the man some credence, even if the suggestions may not pan out in the end. It was another lesson that Yulen had drilled into him. “You never know when something that sounds outlandish might be the exact thing you’ll need to survive.”
“I think this place is haunted. I think there’s something in this compound that scares them so bad, they don’t dare step foot in here. So they’re gonna wait out there for us. For when we finally discover it for ourselves and try to beat a hasty retreat.”
Destino scoffed. “Haunted? Like ghosts? Don’t tell me you believe in that crap, do you, Jostin?”
“It doesn’t matter what he believes,” Lucien countered. “It matters if they believe it.”
For the second time, a sense of uneasiness came over him. Ghost stories had always left him spooked when he was growing up. At the mention of this compound possibly being haunted, he felt that cold finger of apprehension running down his spine again, raising goosebumps on his arms.
Yulen tossed the stick away. “Well, whatever the cause or reason, we’re temporarily stuck here. Turenski, send several of your men out to scour all the apartment buildings. Jarish, you take the markets and examine the back wall. You’re looking for a spring or any incoming source of water. Check all the plumbing and pipes, whatever you think might be conduits. There has to be something, or else this place wouldn’t have been erected here.” The captains repeated the order and hurried off.
Yulen pointed to Tinsdale. “I know we checked this place out when we first entered it. Now I want you and your troops to look for food, clothing, wood, anything you can scavenge. Edible plant life. Hell, a snake or two. Anything.” Tinsdale acknowledged him and headed out.
“Warren, go ahead and reassign the men to take two-hour shifts.”
“Got it,” Paxton answered, and left via the side door.
“What’s left?” Grimsy asked.
“Just stay alert and keep your eyes on the Bloods,” Yulen replied. “They can’t remain like that forever. Sooner or later they’re going to have to make a move. They may be subhuman, but they still have to eat and sleep, and take a pee break like the rest of us. Check on your men. Listen to them. Above all, reassure them.”
The men knew they’d been dismissed, and exited the room, leaving the battle lord and prince on their own. Yulen turned to his son. “What’s your impression? Talk to me.”
“There’s something majorly wrong with this place. I don’t know why, but things aren’t right.”
A smile slowly grew on the battle lord’s face. “You sound like your mother. I learned early on in our marriage to trust her any time she told me she got those kinds of feelings. Let me guess. You can feel the hairs rise up on the back of your head?”
Lucien managed a weak smile. “Yeah.”
“Yulen?”
Lucien and his father turned to see Iain standing in the doorway leading back to the clinic. The doctor gestured to them. “I need both of you to come with me, please.”
This time Lucien heard a definite note of concern as he and Yulen followed the man into the rear rooms.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Immunity
The doctor wasn’t there when they arrived at what used to be the examination room. A small fire in the center of the floor was the only source of light, forget the heat. The place reeked of alcohol, reminding Lucien of how Renken had described Iain’s use of it.
The battle lord took everything in with a glance. “Aren’t you supposed to have one more patient, Doctor? Where’s Durrow?”
Iain gritted his teeth in momentary anger. “He didn’t make it.”
“I thought you said he’d recover,” Lucien reminded him.
The physician’s jaw clenched again. “Not when someone slit his throat.” Lucien and his father stared in stunned silence at the young man, who nodded. “It seems someone wanted to make sure Durrow didn’t recover.”
Yulen sat on the floor, next to Atty. She was lying on her side, next to a puddle of fluid the doctor had managed to excavate from her lungs. Johna was lying on the other end of the room, also on her side, and with a similar patch of wetness by her head. Iain had done his best to clear the room of dirt and dust, and lay saddle blankets down so his patients wouldn’t have to lie on the bare ground.
Lucien dropped to his knees next to Johna. She was completely out of it. Sweat rolled off her pale face, and he could hear how every breath she struggled to draw gurgled in her chest.