“What’s happening? Please tell me…my baby. You’re scaring my baby.”
Please don’t search the streets. Please don’t come here…Rusted tin cans blurred under my tears, faded plastic wrappers slapped the rusted red brick wall with the wind, drawing my gaze higher. Sawing breaths stole the moisture in my mouth. A faded white banner hung forlornly against the brick wall, but the words were still clear…
They’re coming for us all!
I blinked and tried to swallow. My heart pounded like someone was at the door, someone desperate to get in. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. A reckoning—just like Dad said. That’s what this was…an answer to all the things we’d done.
They were coming. If it wasn’t The Mighty, then it was someone else. Some other band of murderers would take their place. It didn’t matter who it was, different face, same greed.
Dad used to tell me there was safety in numbers. But not anymore.
There was no safety here, and hadn’t been for a long time.
The woman beside me clutched the still bundle to her chest. “You’re scaring him,” she murmured and slid to the ground beside me. “You’re scaring my baby. Shhh…” she murmured and curled her spine, and rocked. “It’s okay, you’re safe now. Safe from the bad men. Safe from her.”
The woman’s movement blurred through my tears. She sounded unhinged, unstable. The truth was a cold reality. She was never going to find peace. There was no life here, no salvation…there was nothing more than…almost.
That word filled me with dark thoughts.
Almost…if only…try to…they were the saddest words I knew. I clutched the gun and leaned my head back against the brick.
If only I could’ve stopped Dad from going out that day.
If only I could’ve somehow saved him.
A low snarl stole the thought. I opened my eyes as a pale beast slunk out of a cracked doorway at the end of the alley. He limped more than lunged, hard muscles of his shoulders rolling as he moved.
Blood seeped from a gash on his shoulder. Tinged with red, the dried mess stained the cocoa hair almost black. All I could see were perfect white teeth as his lips curled in warning—and fear. It echoed in perfect brown eyes.
The woman whimpered beside me, which drew his gaze. I gripped the gun and dragged it closer. “Easy now,” I murmured.
The hound limped closer, dark eyes no longer trained on the woman at my side. Steel shone from the collar around its neck. It was someone’s pet, someone’s friend. I glanced at the hard lines of its ribs. But now it looked like it had to fend for itself.
Like the rest of us. I lifted my hand. The steel from the gun shone. The beast lunged forward. White teeth were stained red from swollen gums. “It’s okay, I whispered,” and eased the gun against my leg. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
My nails skimmed the denim, and then the faded black leather. Fingers delved, spearing deep. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Words spilled. I didn’t know if they were for me, or for him. “I bet you’re starving.”
I dragged a small tin free and stared at the faded label. I can’t believe it’s not chicken! The date didn’t matter…they never mattered. I grasped the ring pull and eased it open. “It’s not chicken. But right now, I bet you don’t even care.”
I scooped the stuff from the middle. Pale strands of meat hung from my fingers as I reached out. “It’s good, it’s still fine. Eat, come on now, eat.”
The growl softened, glassy eyes drifted to the ends of my fingers. Blood seeped fresh as he limped. The closer he came, the more I saw how badly he suffered. His ear was in tatters, ripped almost in two. Scars marred the back of his body. I searched my memory for the name…thick jaw, short legs, and a wide barrel chest. “Pit.” He stretched his neck, sniffed the tips of my fingers. “Pit Hound…not a hound, Pit something…”
Pink peeked out with a timid lick, catching the tips of my fingers before it was gone again. “Pitt,” I murmured. “Come on, there’s more.”
I dug into the tin and scooped out more. He shuffled closer, careful eyes watching me, and the food. Trust. He was trusting me. Hungry tongue lashed my skin, taking the stringy clumps in one bite.
I scooped out more, finding the bits in the corners until the tin was empty. He was close now, close enough…I stretched out my fingers. He gave a sniff and a growl. Just a warning. But trust raged in his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.” I brushed my fingers along his snout. “Friend, see…”
He moved closer as my hand rose, lifting his head to graze my palm. How long had he been out here alone? I stared at the tattered collar. Too long. Pain flared in my chest. I knew what loneliness felt like. “You can stay with me?”
I probed the hard ridge of his skull, and then between his ears. But it was his shoulder I focused on. The incision was too neat to be a bite, or a bullet wound. It was more like the remnant of a knife. “Someone cut you, buddy?”
“It’s a girl.”
I wrenched my head left. “What did you say?”
“Your boy is a female. Look, no willy,” she raised her finger and stabbed the air.
I leaned over, a smooth belly all the way between his…her legs. “You’re a girl. A girl…a sister?”
You coming, Harlow?
That purpose raged, flowing like a river untapped. I opened my hand, palm up and inhaled. The light filled me, pushing away the darkness, leaving me swimming in the warmth. I could almost float…almost…A cold nose pressed against my fingers, the growl softened to a whine. There was a twitch in the corner of my mouth. Lips curled as Pitt moved closer. I ran my hand along her body, feeling the jutting bones and the sunken skin. “You stay with me, okay? We’ll take care of each other.”
The woman beside me turned away and pushed against the wall. We couldn’t stay here, not while The Mighty were out hunting. They’d be riled now, high on the hunt and looking for others.
Trust.
It was a cruel thing to have. I stared at Pitt as the thought grew. I had to trust the woman who ran from The Mighty didn’t tell them about us—I had to trust she somehow valued our life above her own.
Trust that when the truth finally spilled from her lips in a moment of terror or pain we’d be long gone from here.
I gripped the gun, and shoved against the rubbish. We had to be careful, and fast. Three blocks. I glanced at the woman behind me as I rose. How far could she run with a dead baby in her arms? I glanced at Pitt and the gash in her side.
“Okay, we move as fast as we can, don’t stop at the corners, try to make the open doors and the alleys.”
I took a step and watched for movement. Pitt stood still, watching, waiting. One small click of my fingers and she was hobbling to walk beside me. I listened for the echo of trucks and made for the entrance.