Miscreants next generati.., p.9
Miscreants: Next Generation, page 9
Poet’s hazel eyes moved between the two of us. “You guys good?”
“She thought she heard someone.”
“That’s plural,” I corrected.
He and Travis both stared in the general direction of the house.
“Best we keep moving. There shouldn’t be anyone here at all, unless it’s someone from your faction.”
“He’s right. Let’s keep going. We definitely don’t want to have any run-ins.”
Settling back into our horizontal line, we continued in the same direction we’d been going, all of us on the lookout for any sign of life. Another ten minutes rolled by before I heard anything else. I held a finger to my lips to signal them to hush, then pointed to my ear and mouthed, “Did you hear that?”
Takara nodded just as the voices came again, much more distinguishable.
“I can pick out two,” Poet said lowly.
I tried to determine where the sound was coming from. Wherever it was—whoever it was—we were getting closer.
I felt extremely exposed out in the middle of the street like this, but it wasn’t like we had a ton of places to hide. We still needed to get the hell away from the lodge site, pronto.
“What’s the quickest way through this town?”
“Take the next left,” Travis replied.
I picked up my pace, moving over to that side of the road so I was on the sidewalk. Catching movement from the corner of my eye from an upper window, I didn’t stop, but I made the others aware of it with a small hand gesture.
“Someone’s crying,” Takara whispered. “A woman, I think.”
“Yeah, I hear that too.”
I took the left turn and my eyes instantly fell to an all-black pick-up.
The vehicle was way too clean to belong here, as out of place as we were. It sat off on the side of the road, partially parked on the curb. When a man bolted from one of the houses a few feet ahead, I slowed to a near stop. Another came out after him, whistling. His pace lacked any hint of urgency.
He glanced our way and waved but didn’t stop his pursuit, as if he had no cares in the world—more than likely due to the fact that he had a big-ass gun in his hands.
When he took aim at the guy fleeing, Takara grabbed hold of my wrist, nudging my body in the opposite direction. The gunshot reverberated in my ears, carrying through the air. We took off as the bullet found its mark, sending the fleeing man cartwheeling forward.
Racing back the way we’d just come from, we took another left so we were running down the road we’d turned off of.
A second gun shot went off, the echo making me run faster. I looked over at Travis, seeing him struggling.
“Where do we go? How do we get out of here?”
“Straight, right…shit…left?”
“Why did that sound like a question?” Takara breathed.
“It’s left!”
He’d better be right about this, or I would shove my blade so far down his throat it’d pop out of his ass.
Hearing an engine, I took a quick glance over my shoulder, but there wasn’t any sign of the pick-up. Without holding still, I couldn’t place which direction the sound was coming from.
I got my answer less than two seconds later when an old beetle-shaped vehicle appeared at the end of the street.
“Who the fuck’s this?” Poet rasped, skidding to halt, holding an arm out so that I would stop alongside him without falling.
Swallowing, I attempted to catch my breath. “Not Stags or Lazarus.”
“Whoever they are, they’re obviously insane. Who in their right mind would so boldly be in Mal’s territory?” Takara asked.
The black truck popped out on the street behind us, the roar of its engine matching the pounding of my heart.
Dammit. They had us boxed in.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Travis panted, clutching at the straps of his backpack.
“Hey!” I slapped his arm. “You need to chill. Calm down and get your shit together. I can smell the piss you’re about to release in your pants.”
“Sorry,” he murmured, making a point to look down at the ground. He began whispering beneath his breath, something that sounded an awful lot like a prayer.
I was the wrong person to be doing that around, all things considered. But hell, if it stopped his panicking, I’d pray with him.
“I got eyes on this one,” Poet said, turning so that he was facing the black truck.
Placing my back against his, shoulder to Takara’s, she and I faced the blue car. The door swung open, and a man got out. Black goggles obscured a large part of his upper face while a bright orange bandana wrapped around the entire lower portion.
Quickly reaching inside, he grabbed something, another gun from the looks of it, and then slammed his door shut.
Another two followed from the pick-up. I was less concerned about these people and more worried about the woman crying hysterically. I could hear her vividly, but she still wasn’t anywhere we could see.
“This isn’t good,” Poet murmured.
“Don’t say that.”
“Would you rather I lie?”
He didn’t have to say anything at all. Anyone with two eyes and a brain could see how shitty a situation we’d just gotten in. On the day of our grand escape, at that, and lacking guns like these men had.
It wasn’t that the Stags-Lazarus didn’t have any. On the contrary, Samael had a whole damn arsenal of weapons and ammunition. The issue was getting to them. It was one of the most guarded buildings at the lodging site.
The man that’d gotten out of the blue car reached us. What looked like a shotgun was slung over his shoulder.
“Aren’t you all a beautiful sight to behold.” I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt them slithering over us. I imagined he was grinning as well.
“I told ya we been blessed,” another man said from behind me.
Both their voices had a heavy twang.
“We don’t want any trouble,” Travis expressed, finally lifting his head.
“Neither do we,” a third man replied.
“If you do as we say, won’t be any trouble at all,” Goggles said, flashing a yellow-toothed smile.
He took a step back and looked us over with an exaggerated motion of his head. Great. A guy who carried his balls in the form of a gun. This was the last thing we needed. The longer we stood here, the higher the chance of us being caught by someone I was actually worried about.
“Can you skip the whole theatrical performance?”
Goggles threw his head back and laughed. I wasn’t sure what I’d said to warrant that kind of reaction, but okay. He lifted the shotgun off his shoulder and extended it outward, pressing the rusted barrel to my lips.
This was the reaction I had expected. Although, having no idea where the barrel of this thing had been, it was revolting.
“Honey, you are so lucky I’m in a good mood today and have a soft spot for a pretty face.”
So lucky. I refrained from rolling my eyes. If he didn’t have two minions with him, he’d have already been disposed of so we could be on our way. I kept my mouth firmed in a flat line. I wasn’t going to be a smart ass while there was a gun capable of blowing a hole in my face leveled right at me.
“Jacob, you got room in the truck?”
“More than enough.”
“Good.” Goggles looked over at Takara. “I don’t come across too many like you.”
Her lips slightly puckered, but she otherwise showed no visible reaction.
Goggles moved the gun to Travis’ chest and let his gaze linger for a minute or two.
“I want the two girls and the big fella. I got no use for this one.”
That was all the warning he gave before pulling the trigger. I’d heard gunshots plenty of times, but this time…I swear it was seriously one of the loudest things I’d ever heard in my life.
My ear canal restricted to protect my ear drum, but it still hurt like a sonofabitch. There was a ringing sensation that muffled everything happening around me. Travis’ body jerked backward; blood sprayed down my right side. There was a ringing sensation that muffled everything happening around me.
I more felt than saw Poet be pulled away just before a pair of roughened hands grabbed me. A thick sack came down over my head, obscuring my vision. Blinded and deaf, I couldn’t defend myself when one of the assholes kicked my legs from under me.
The last thing I recalled was my body hitting the bloodied tarmac.
CHAPTER TWELVE
I skipped searching the woods.
It was more logical to start my hunt in Phobos. This shithole was what Lilith and her friends would have happened upon once they finished their adventurous trek through a small jungle.
These were the friends I made sure she had, for the record. I should have found a dog instead.
What greeted me here wasn’t entirely unexpected.
I stood from my crouching position and nudged Travis’ body with my boot. The hole in the center of his chest already had blood congealing around it. I examined the burnt shell that’d gone straight through him, turning it over between my thumb and forefinger.
“There’s another body a few streets over. No one worth identifying,” Brody stated, running his fingers through his beard.
“Alone?” I asked.
“Some of the proselytes found sleeping bags in one of the houses and a duffel of supplies. We think there were two more with em, possibly three. All women, if their gear is anything to go by.”
“There shouldn’t have been anyone here at all,” Amo said, taking the shell when I offered it.
“Phobos may look like shit, but if you take the state of the Badlands into account, it’s a paradise. It’s untouched and free from the effects of a turf war.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Aurora agreed.
“Do you think whoever else was here, the person that did this, got to Lilith?” Dawn asked, frowning down at Travis.
“I know they did. Along with Takara. Poet too. His body isn’t something we’d miss. And whatever women were stupid enough to take refuge here were more than likely taken too.”
Her bright green eyes flashed to my face. “That’s rather harsh. You said yourself it’s a paradise. They aren’t stupid for wanting—”
I lifted a hand to silence her before she could step up to an imaginary podium.
“I don’t want to hear any of that sympathetic make-the-world-a-better-place bullshit. It was a figure of speech. Look around you. Does this look like a nice place, Dawn? Is it somewhere you’d go to live the glory days?”
Cheeks turning red, she blinked and looked down, mumbling something unintelligible before putting some space between us.
“Samael,” Rory sighed.
“You just hurt her feelings,” Amo mused, staring after her.
I knew that. Couldn’t bring myself to care, either. “If you plan on using your dick to make her feel better, you’ll have to do it later.”
“You become a bigger asshole every day. It’s fucking great.” He laughed.
“I’m glad I have the approval I wasn’t seeking.”
“You’ve always had my approval,” he stated, suddenly serious.
I knew that too.
Amo was the brother I never had. The two of us had been introduced through a third party years ago, before the Lazarus or Stags existed. We immediately fell into an easy companionship, communicating through a hidden grapevine.
He, Brody, and Aurora had stood by me for every step of this crazy-ass expedition. As for Dawn…she was nothing and no one. A failure of a distraction. That coupled with the fact that she tended to never shut the fuck up had me regretting letting her come along with us.
She reminded me of an old cartoon Lilith used to watch when we were younger. It was about these colorful teddy bears that ran around shooting feelings out of their stomachs. Honestly, one of the most disturbing things I’d ever seen.
As such, Dawn’s heart of gold wasn’t something I found remotely attractive.
It clashed with my dark one on a consistent basis. If not for her having become a friend to Rory, I’d have gotten rid of her a long time ago.
Despite what I allowed Lilith to believe, Dawn and I weren’t a thing. She made my dick softer than pudding.
Amo, on the other hand, put his dick in every one of her holes whenever he felt like it. Who he chose to be with, why, and where, wasn’t anything I cared to keep track of. I merely encouraged him to wrap his dick, so it didn’t rot off. He was a prime example of why I made sure our faction had contraceptives.
The proselytes were human, and humans liked to fuck.
I wasn’t excluding myself from that equation. I could get pussy whenever, from whomever, but I hadn’t taken advantage of that perk since I’d left the Savages. Back then, my body was a tool to further my agenda. I’d obviously come a long way since.
I wasn’t going to give a single woman the power to hurt Lilith just because I couldn’t keep my dick in my pants. There wasn’t enough ass in the world to make me risk the one girl I’d been strengthening an empire for. That would be like eating shit when you could have the finest fucking chocolate that ever existed, crafted from everything you desired.
Celibacy wasn’t too difficult of a task to undertake. The hardest part about it was restraining the animalistic urge to pin Lilith down and fuck her into submission. I’d been inside her more than a dozen times since being her first, and it still wasn’t close to enough.
I had a lot of ideas for when I got my hands on her again.
All I needed to do was figure out who had her. Then I’d make them sorry for daring to touch what was mine.
I leaned against one of our Brabuses and
looked from the lag huddled in a ball on the ground to Brody. He and the two proselytes standing partially behind him had discovered the guy during another sweep.
“Where did you get this thing from?” Amo asked, staring at the man without bothering to hide his disgust.
“He’s been squatting in another one of the houses. Tried to run out the back door when we came through the front,” Leo, the proselyte on the left, answered.
Tapping my fingers against my chin, I stared down at the man, debating if he was a reliable source or not. His face was skeletal. The cheekbones stuck out so far they could be used as handles. Wearing nothing but layers of rags, his skin was so covered in grime it was hard to decipher what he truly looked like. His hair hung in a tangled mop of blackish grey.
“How did you make it to Phobos alone?”
“I ran,” came his muffled response. Dull, hollow eyes continuing to stare straight ahead.
“Do you think we can get anything useful out of him?” Aurora asked.
“I might be able to get him to talk if you can give me a few minutes,” Dawn said, now having rejoined us.
“By doing what?” Amo challenged.
“Being—”
“We don’t have time to waste on potentially senile old men. Get him up.”
The proselytes flew into action, each grabbing one of the man’s arms and forcing him to his feet.
“I didn’t do anything,” he yelled, spittle flying and landing in his ragged beard. Pupils dilated and nostrils flaring, it was apparent this man wasn’t worth the air the trees gave him to breathe.
His obvious instability answered the question of how he’d made it all the way to Phobos in one piece. He was of no use to anyone dead or alive. His existence wasn’t even a blip on the Badlands’ radar.
“He smells like a whole barrel of shit,” Amo remarked.
“There were a few piles of that in the house, along with raw animal carcasses. He’s been eating whatever he can get his hands on. Rodents…bugs…trash,” Brody explained.
That gave me an idea.
I turned around and went to the back of the Brabus. Reaching into the bed of the boxy SUV, I dug through one of our duffels until I found what I’d come to get. Returning to my prior position, I held the foil packet up so that the man could watch as I opened it.
“You want this?”
His eyes sparked to life, homing in on the cured beef I held between my fingers. When he inhaled like an animal catching a whiff of its prey, I knew I had him.
“Yes,” he monotoned.
“Tell me something useful, and it’s all yours.”
“They came in the middle of the night,” he replied quickly, trying to rush forward.
He was easily held back.
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” Amo said.
I nodded to show I agreed. “We need to find someone.”
“I haven’t saw nobody,” he whined.
“You just said they came in the middle of the night,” Aurora reminded him.
He began to stutter and look around as if he were afraid of being caught with us. It was the most coherent thing he’d done since Brody dragged his ass to my truck.
“Yo.” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Whoever scared you…if you don’t tell me exactly everything that you can remember, I’ll let you find out how much worse we are.”
He looked into my eyes and must not have liked what was reflected at him. He leaned as far away from me as he could and slightly turned his head.
“The man with braids did that to them.”
“Keep going,” I coaxed, waving the jerky in front of him.
His chapped lips parted, and I found myself wanting to take a step back my damn self. His mouth was a fucking cesspool of rotting meat—unidentifiable strips stuck between filthy teeth that weren’t all facing the correct way.
Living in the Badlands was hard for people—more so for lags. Why that seemed to affect their ability to wash their ass and take care of their dental health was anyone’s guess. They already had nothing going for them; what the fuck would a crusty asshole accomplish?
The man snapped his mouth shut and began speaking in a rush. “Big black pick-up. It’s what he came in.”
“And?”
“That’s all I know, I swear it. He took em two girls and killed the man.”
I looked over at Amo. “Someone with braids that drives a black pick-up. You got anything?”
A thoughtful look came across his face.
