Edge of Instinct: Rabids Book 1 (18 page)

Amiel

“You shouldn’t let her lay on your lap like that. It’s dangerous.”

“She’s been through a lot. She’s going to need comfort when she comes to.”

“And that’s worth taking the risk?”

“We don’t know…”

“You saw what I saw. The chances of her being fine…”

“We don’t know. And until then, I’m sticking with her.” Voices dimly filtered through the haze of Amiel’s consciousness. Some sounded angry, others suspicious or nervous, only one seemed calm. Amiel fought through the haze, awakening slowly with a moan as an intense pounding took up residence in her skull.

“Amiel?” A low, kind masculine voice reached her ears. Squinting open her lids, a blurry image floated in her vision, and for a moment her heart leaped into her throat.

“Jaron?” she sobbed out. She saw a flash of regret flit across the blurry face seconds before it sharpened into clarity. It wasn’t her brother at all.

“Sorry, Amiel. I’m afraid not.” Amiel stared up into his kind face, heart breaking in loss all over again. Her head was laying in the lap of none other than Alexander Greysen, Jaron’s brother-in-arms. She squeezed her eyes shut, angrily wiping the tears away from her cheeks as they spilled across her skin. Her hands didn’t seem to want to cooperate, her limbs moving sluggishly and awkwardly. With a grunt of effort she sat up, head swimming from the effort.

“Careful, you’ve had quite a night. Do you…remember me?” he asked cautiously, and she turned to grace him with a small smile.

“Alexander Greysen.” He nodded with a relieved smile. “But, I don’t understand. What’s happened? Why am I here?” She glanced around, realizing she was riding in the back of a large military truck. Her eyes fell to the bike at her feet.
Her
bike; now covered in mud and long scrapes. She gasped.

“Oh my gosh, Tandy! My friend, where is he?” Alexander put a calming hand on her arm, and pointed out the back of the truck. Sturdy as always, Tandy rode behind them, looking every bit the big bear that he was. Raising a hand he nodded, reassuring her that he was fine. She had a feeling he was smiling behind that scary face covering of his. She smiled back, trying to wave. It was then she noticed her hands were bound.

“I see I had to be tied up again.” She shook her head, trying to clear the last of the fog from her gaze and brain. Whatever these blackouts were, they sure did a number on her. Her brain wasn’t doing a very good job of playing catch up. She had the disconcerting feeling that something very important was staring her in the face, but her brain simply wasn’t connecting the dots.

“Do you remember anything?” Greysen asked. She leaned back against the truck as it jostled across the uneven ground. Her mind scrambled. Again, it came up blank. She sighed heavily in frustration.

“Nothing. I think…I think I may have blacked out again.” Greysen exchanged glances with a girl across from them in the truck, the one from the funeral. “What is it?” Amiel asked. Greysen’s eyes flitted over her, and she followed his gaze. Glancing down at herself the dots finally connected. She gasped, leaping back against the side of the truck, as though she could escape the clothing that enfolded her body. She was covered in dirt and a whole lot of blood.

“No, no, no! What did I do?” She glanced back out at Tandy in worry. The blood was definitely not Tandy’s. He was tough, but she was pretty certain if he had lost the amount of blood that was on her clothing, he wouldn’t be alive right now.

“Your friend is fine, Amiel. Not a scratch on him,” Alexander supplied, though his voice still held that deeper hesitation. A glimpse of memory came back to her, a memory of being chased by Rabids across the desert. A sinking feeling came over her, and she thought back to the conversation she had overheard before waking. They had suggested it was dangerous for Alexander to be so near her. Quickly searching for any cuts or abrasions that could have left her infected, she felt nothing. Though given her current state of dirty and blood encrusted glory, and with her hands bound, it was difficult to tell.

“What happened? Did Rabids…am I infected?” she asked, devastated. Alexander watched her carefully.

“Not that we know of. We are taking you to the rest area, so you can get cleaned up and have a full inspection. You are tied up, just in case you turn out to be infected.” The idea brought a shift of guilt across the soldier’s face. “We also gave you a sedative. It should have stayed in effect until we were sure of your…situation. Apparently the sedative ran through your system quicker than we anticipated.” The look of his nearby companion’s faces told her that this wasn’t entirely normal. Alexander smiled kindly, but even he couldn’t hide the guarded depths. They were all waiting for her to turn Rabid.

“From what we can see, you
appear
to be fine, but we will need to do tests to be sure,” the female soldier supplied. Amiel wished this latter statement could have brought her relief, but their tones and careful conversation made it clear that she shouldn’t hope for too much.

“And if I am infected…” She didn’t bother finishing the sentence. Greysen remained silent, and she knew what would happen. It was suddenly sweltering in her jacket, packed into this truck filled with men and women trained in ending bigger threats than her without blinking an eye.

“How did I get here, with all of you?” She swallowed, eager to change the subject, to think of anything other than what might be her final moments of life.

“We run wide circuits from Hood, to Dallas, and beyond. We try to keep the Rabid population surrounding the city to a minimum. We were just on our way back from our first round when our sensors happened to catch large amounts of movement. We came to investigate.” She nodded, absently rubbing the spot over her heart. The stupid thing always seemed to ache lately. She felt Alexander’s eyes shift to follow her movements, and she quickly dropped her hand.

“Were those Jaron’s?” Alexander’s casual question surprised her, his fingers reaching toward the tags around her neck. She tensed, but he stopped short of touching them. She wasn’t sure if he did it out of respect for her, or fear. Something in his eyes told her he knew more about the tags, and he looked more nervous to touch them, than to touch a girl who had likely been infected. Her eyes quickly shifted to survey the other soldier’s, evaluating their tags appearance. None of them matched Jaron’s. Amiel swallowed hard, forcing her eyes back to meet Alexander’s.

“He made me promise to wear them, before…” She couldn’t say the words ‘before he died.’ Alexander seemed to understand, hand falling back to his side. His eyes stayed glued to the tags a moment longer, before exchanging further looks with the girl across the way.

“You aren’t going to try and take them from me, are you?” She grasped them with her bound hands, fortifying herself for a fight she knew would come if they did.

“No, I don’t think you have to worry about that.” He held her gaze, trying to convey something important.

“These aren’t the standard issued tags, are they?” she mumbled, getting that sinking feeling again. He shook his head slowly, and she sighed. The truck fell under a heavy silence, and for now, Amiel wasn’t at all eager to continue any conversation. The truck pulled up to the final rest stop on their journey, and since the trucks were too big to fit inside the field, she, Tandy, Greysen and a few others went inside while the rest waited on guard.

“Y’all ain’t gettin’ inside Dallas lookin’ like that, honey,” Tandy grunted, taking in her appearance. Alexander nodded to the female soldier at his side.

“Calina will help you get cleaned up.” Amiel opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. “There’s no room for modesty on the subject I’m afraid, Amiel. We have to do a thorough physical examination and blood test to ensure that you haven’t been compromised.”

Swallowing hard against the rising panic, Amiel nodded and turned to follow the woman who led her away. Amiel stripped down behind the generator and gas pumps, tossing her clothes away in disgust. Calina motioned to a big barrel on the ground that smelled of water and strong cleaning astringents. Amiel’s duffle had also been brought along and tossed to the side. She assumed she would only be in need of that if she passed the tests. No use getting dressed just to die. Smiling apologetically, Calina moved into position to begin the process.

“Sorry, hun, I know it’s embarrassing, but it needs to be done.” Though Amiel had heard the woman speak at Jaron’s funeral, she was still taken by surprise at the husky voice, and sweet smile that followed it. She nodded tightly and turned so that Calina could dump the water over her, whilst Amiel scrubbed down her skin with an abrasive soap Calina handed her. When her skin and hair were thoroughly cleaned, Calina gave her a comprehensive yet detached exam. She even checked inside her mouth, ears, nose and eyes. Then she ran a blood test where a small drop of blood from a prick in her finger was run in a hand held machine. Calina smiled brightly as the machine beeped one long beep, and she stepped away.

“You’re clean. You should be fine. Come out when you are ready.” With that, she turned and left, taking Amiel’s soiled clothes with her. Amiel tried not to think about the fact that Jaron’s boots and her leather jacket were in that pile, or the fact that she smelled fire burning nearby. Quickly dressing in new clothes, she stepped out from behind the barriers she’d used to preserve some of her modesty. Tears of gratitude swelled in her eyes when she found Tandy sitting on the ground, doing a quick cleaning of her jacket with Alexander doing the same for her boots. A soldier she didn’t recognize sat next to Alexander cleaning a gun and knife. Calina stood off to the side, a small bonfire consisting of Amiel’s old clothes at her feet. Amiel smiled at them all in appreciation, feeling a bit embarrassed by the fact that they were doing so much to help her.

“You’ve all done so much to help me, thank you.” Her voice caught, and she fought the escape of tears. Alexander nodded with a charming smile and handed her the boots. She slid them back on, feeling more at ease already with Jaron’s gift in place. The other soldier stood, handed her the weapons, and left without so much as a word or glance her way.

“Don’t mind him. We all owed Jaron in one way or another, including Ace. He isn’t the nicest guy, but he doesn’t renege on a debt. Him helping clean your stuff was his way of repaying Jaron in a small way.” Amiel nodded in understanding as she slid the gun back into the holster on her leg. She held up the knife, staring at it in confusion.

“What’s this for?” Tandy smirked at her, shaking his head.

“Don’t remember a thing again, do ya.” It wasn’t a question. Her grimace was the only answer he needed. “Keep the knife, honey. Y’all use it better than I ever did.” Her left brow rose, waiting for the punch line. She turned to Alexander, trying to hand him the knife. He shook his head, declining it.

“It’s not mine.”

“Well it’s certainly not mine. I don’t know the first thing about knives.”

“From what we saw, your friend is quite right. You know your way around a knife just fine.”

She huffed in exasperation. “I’ve never used a knife in my life, except to eat my dinner. I don’t even own one. What is this about?” Everyone stared at her, silent as the cold feeling of dread resettling in her gut. “Anyone care to tell me what happened this time around?” Greysen glanced at Tandy.

“This time? Does this sort of thing happen often?”

“I don’t know about before our little adventure, but her exorcist moments have happened twice in as many days. Even had to tie her to a pole last night to keep her from throwin’ herself through the field. But she don’t remember a thing about it.” He slapped Amiel on the back, laughing. “Honey just likes herself a fight, apparently.” Amiel’s eyes had rounded to saucers.

“Are you telling me…” She swallowed hard. “Are you telling me that I
fought
Rabids?” She held the knife up awkwardly, between her thumb and pointer finger. “With
this
?”

Tandy smirked down at her. “Guns and a helmet may have been involved as well.”

“A helmet?” Her dubious question only earned a silent chuckle from her guide. Alexander finally took pity on her and approached. His short cut light brown hair glistened with sweat in the lights of the rest area. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, his blue eyes met and held hers with intensity.

“It’s your turn to answer some questions, Amiel. Your travel agent tells me you are going to Dallas. Why?”

“I’m taking the advice from you and Jaron. I’m getting away from my mother.”

Alexander’s eyes widened. “So you came to one of the most screwed up cities in the country, on the back of a motorcycle? That was a dangerous plea for freedom, don’t you think? Not exactly what Jaron or I had in mind.”

She frowned, before looking down at the knife still in her hands. “So, you didn’t mean it when you said that I could come to you for help if I ever needed it?”

“No, of course I meant it! I just didn’t think…”Alexander paused uncomfortably, rubbing at his shoulder. “Well, I didn’t think it would happen so soon- or that you would come
here
of all places.” He looked at her imploringly. “Dallas is the last place Jaron would want you, Amiel.”

“I know Jaron told you stories about our life growing up, so you know how determined my mother can be. She would find me if I had stayed anywhere nearby. She still may find me, even in Dallas. My life would never have been my own. I couldn’t stay there.”